Denis Rankin Round Report
Prelude
How do you build towards a goal that you don’t know is possible from a place that isn’t ready with a mind and body that are recovering with uncertain pathways forwards and no template?
After a year and a half of Hashimoto’s investigation, diagnosis, treatment through medication and then management through blood tests and lifestyle changes I return to work full time in January looking to make the most of every opportunity and find challenges that still excite me.
Having completed three UK mountain rounds previously (Bob Graham - England, Paddy Buckley - Wales, Charlie Ramsay - Scotland) in under 24 hours (just) the Denis Rankin Round (Northern Ireland) has whispered to me before but now the pull is stronger, the allure greater and the reward a full set of UK rounds.
I only mention it to a few people to start with – I’m not even sure if my body will respond to training and my mountain days may be behind me for good. So I enter a few races, increasing the distance and challenge. I support a few mountain rounds to see if I can still cut it.
I can.
And not only that but I meet some people who know the Rankin Round well and say I should get in touch if I ever want to have a go.
That’s nice.
I’ve also been trained as a Lydiard running coach, another thing I’ve always wanted to move towards, and I’ve started the Level 3. So I adopt the training principles and work back from a theoretical date if everything moves in the right direction.
In truth I won’t know if It is possible for me until a couple of months before I go because I’m building pretty much from scratch. But I reason 15 years of ultra training experience has to count for something, Lydiard training principles have you building through each session and each phase, not training to exhaustion and I’m nothing if not disciplined towards my dreams.
Game on.
My ‘marker’ races go well. Far better than I could have hoped for in fact.
Far, far better.
So I start to make some tentative enquiries about the logistics of attempting the Rankin round.
Either solo if needed or with whoever may come out to play. I’ve supported on over 80 rounds and adventures, although none in Ireland, so feel I have some credit in the bank – if people are available then great, if not then I’ll happily have a crack at it myself.
The Denis Rankin Round differs in an important way from the other rounds. Rather than being a challenge set by a runner it was born out of love for a man who died in the Mourne mountains during a race.
‘The Denis Rankin Round is a circuit of all the peaks in the Mourne mountains over 400m in height, covering 90km and 6500m in ascent. The challenge is to complete this within a 24 hour period.
The Round is named after Denis Rankin, a pioneer and leading light in fell running and mountain marathons in Northern Ireland since the 1970’s, who tragically died on 16th May 2013 competing in a fell race on Slievemoughanmore.’
Denis Rankin Round - Leg 1
Newcastle to Silent Valley Dam
With Stephen Bickerstaff
There’s a storm coming.
That’s not a metaphorical motivational missive.
There’s an actual named storm that’s cancelled my flights. Thanks Floris.
I re-book my flights and push everything along a day, almost everyone can still make it 24 hours later so from thinking I’d likely be on my own I have a team bursting at the seams. People are being added to my WhatsApp support group and jumping on to bits of the route to run. This is amazing.
When I spoke to Denise earlier in the year she said not to worry about arranging things too far in advance because people will come out. And here I am changing my plans at the last minute and still seeing a full team in place for my adventure. Amazing. I love the running community.
Stephen picks me up from the airport, this is already above and beyond. I’ve never met Stephen before, only chatted via WhatsApp, and he’s over in September for a Bob Graham attempt that I have put my name to.
We then go shopping for my provisions for the run. A mix of sweet, savoury and 2 for 1 offers on high calorific food. And crisps.
Stephen then takes me via his house, and a lovely tea of fish pie made by his wife Lorna. I bundle up my provisions into 5 bags, one for each leg and keep one for myself. Denise will pick up the rest on her way past tomorrow morning.
Newcastle is a lovely place and the Hutt Hostel is a perfect base. They’ve flexed my booking, left me a key and given me a room where I can spread out a bit and prepare. I go for a walk to check out the start - I’ve never been to Northern Ireland before, let alone Donard Park, and as I stroll along the beach I can see the first and last mountains up ahead of me. Stunning.
In the morning Stephen meets me at 4:45 with Alex and Stuart who are to meet us at Silent Valley Dam at the end of leg 1. So not only do I have support to run with but people to cheer me off. Just brilliant.
Half way up the first climb and I wonder just what I was thinking. I can feel my heart pumping in my ears, there’s no way I can keep this up for another 38 mountains. At the top we’re at 68 minutes - Stephen reckons this is under a 24 hour pace with even a bit of give. I lean into his calmness and local knowledge and crack on. I’m not convinced but I’ve nothing to base that on, no point having local knowledge if you ignore it.
Over the course of this leg Stephen is a perfect tour guide and picture of purposeful calm. I relax. A little. The tops come and go and the views are spectacular. We cover a range of topics, ‘find’ supplies on the route and I generally marvel at the beauty of the surrounding mountains. It feels like we can see everything for miles.
Which does also mean I can’t help the odd sideways glance at the tops I will encounter on my return journey later in the day. I put them out of mind. You can only climb the hill you’re on, and even then it’s only one foot in front of another.
Climbing doesn’t feel easy. Descending is good fun though and the clock says I’m doing ok. If Stephen has to reassure me once it’s a thousand times but I’m starting to shift the balance from edgy to enjoyment. I’m so used to knowing my splits from reccies in both directions that not knowing is mildly terrifying. But I’m ok. I’m on track or better and I’m moving, eating, drinking and chatting well.
The sun is out, all around are stunning mountains, I’ve a top guide who knows what he’s doing and at the bottom of the last hill on this leg a pot noodle awaits.
Does life get any better than this?
Leg 2
Silent Valley Dam to Deers Meadow
With Stephen Bickerstaff
Stuart and Alex greet us at the dam, Stephen has phoned ahead so the pot noodles are nicely ready. Also at the dam is Johnny who will be running leg 3 later. And he’s brought a can of Coke.
So I sit amongst the mountains, in the sun, eating pot noodle and drinking coke. Life is good.
Even better is that because I will see Johnny again at Deers Meadow I can give him my spare clothes and waterproofs I’ve been carrying just in case I need to carry on at any point solo. There’s not a cloud in the sky and this is a shortish leg at under 4 hours so all should be good.
I don’t like to stop long, 10 minutes maximum, but I’ve enjoyed this meeting and fine dining experience a lot so when ten minutes is up I somewhat reluctantly rally the troops. And by troops I mean Stephen, who is continuing on with me through this leg on his own.
Did I mention that Stephen was 65 years old? I feel I should draw your attention to this in case you’re thinking to yourself ‘I’m too old for this sort of thing.’ Legend has it he’s completed up to 50 Rankin Rounds (different people put varying numbers on the exact amount during the day but there’s at least ten confirmed full rounds so I’m happy to leave it at that) There’s probably nobody who knows these hills, particular rocks and split time estimates any better. I feel privileged to be running with him and we chat about the hills as we move through them.
New lines, wet ground, dry ground, summit rests, contour paths and straight line paths. We move up and through at pace and with ease. The conditions underfoot are great, visibility is perfect and the weather holds, we tick off top after top in cruise mode and I’m feeling great.
As we descend to Deers Meadow, Stephen says he’ll continue on into leg 3 and see how it goes. Amazing.
Below, waiting at the van, is Denise and I can just about pick out Johnny from earlier on but there are others waiting too and as I arrive they are all smiles and cheers. There’s a chair for me and a bacon sandwich and a coffee.
It’s worth reiterating at this point that before starting the round today I had met a total of two of the people involved in supporting me. And yet here gathered round, helping me pursue my dreams are Stephen, Denise, Johnny, Kathleen and Mark.
Introductions are made. Fist bumps and handshakes exchanged.
Bacon sandwich and coffee consumed.
Supplies topped up and kit left with Denise to take to the next checkpoint, which is a bit of a walk up.
‘Don’t be expecting this at the next one,’ says Denise with a warm smile, ‘I won’t have the van with me.’
I raise my cup and swallow the last of the bacon sandwich. This is already far more than I could ever have hoped for and after ten minutes I stand and we set off for leg 3. Classically on 5 leg rounds leg 3 is the crux, the crucial leg where making it through determines the final outcome. Having settled into a comfortable rhythm and gaining confidence that I do actually know what I’m doing when it comes to training for these events we set off up the first climb of leg 3 together.
Leg 3 - Deers Meadow to Slievemartin
With Stephen Bickerstaff, Johnny Irvine, Kathleen Monteverde and Marc Campbell. Road support Denise Mathers
Having just filled up with coffee and a bacon sandwich I set off at something of a pace. Stephen tries to reign us all in but the combined boost of new faces, food intake and a spring in my step mean we climb faster than expected at the start of the leg and have a chance to pause at the summit of Slievemoughanmore.
Having already offered me some satsuma on the way up I’m now offered strawberries and raspberries by Kathleen, who speaks of this being the hill on which Denis Rankin died, of the talks that followed and her part of the group process of creating the round itself in his memory.
Life is preciously short, we will have further conversations on this leg on health, fitness, injury, recovery and lost opportunities. All these things resonate. We are where we are, all of us, and the choices we make are often limited by factors outside our control. So we have to maximise what we can control and go for it when we can.
The support on this leg are a brilliant mix of everything that epitomises mountain running. From Stephen and Kathleen - wise heads with adventurous gleams in their eyes, to a strong experienced runner in Johnny who takes the lead and runs on ahead to film and point the way to Marc who has been running for about a year and is having a great time finding his way to what he loves to do best. Kathleen offers me some bilberries fresh from the hill on the way up the next climb. Lovely.
At one point both my legs start to cramp and I’m moving with legs locked out and making some pained noises. Johnny rummages around in his bag and brings out a packet of what looks like Himalayan rock salt for the bath. He pours out a pile onto my hand and I pause for a second to process my next actions. It’s a small pile of pink rock salt, there’s too much there for me to take so I lick it and take on board a few crystals. Then I have a drink and a bit more satsuma to wash it down.
And just like that I start to move freely again and moving through the dried up moonscape of peat hags is a joy. I’d be lost without my guides as the ‘path’ moves seemingly at random through the peat, often indistinguishable and pulling you away from the direction you should be heading. We hit the open ground and head for the edge of the forest. This is where Johnny turned his ankle and he lets me know he only has one eye so running through this is tricky. I close one eye and almost instantly wipe out so quickly open it again and marvel at how strong he has been throughout this leg.
There’s some talk of the optimum route through the forest and we search, and find, a beer bottle that marks the way. We choose a path that’s not covered in fallen trees. But then find it is actually covered in fallen trees further on but it’s all good. As we pass through the forest fruit whisperer Kathleen offers me a banana, I chuckle as we discuss the value of fresh fruit on longer runs and the fact Kathleen seems to have been carrying a fruit stall in her pack for this leg. We scramble through or round the blockages without too much fuss and make it out onto the open ground and over a stile.
Then the group splits and I find myself in the middle. Kathleen, Stephen and Marc have gone right - to the mast - while Johnny has gone left. My trace goes left so I follow Johnny and catch him as we round the corner of a hill. There are two accepted choices and it will be interesting to see who gets to the summit first.
We do, and we’re not putting our foot down, ticking along nicely we get spectacular views across to southern Ireland and get a sense of how high up we are. The others come to the summit a minute or so later and we drop down to the support point together. Stephen and Kathleen will part company here, Johnny and Mark will carry on for a while longer and then peel off. Craig and Darren will join for the whole of this leg and we may pick up a different Steven later on.
Denise is there to support and I have a warm sausage roll on offer and more coffee. So much for not getting the same treatment because of no van - just amazing! I restock my own food and decide I don’t need any additional clothing for this leg so leave it with Denise to take to the last checkpoint.
My shoes are starting to feel like they’re rubbing a bit but I’m reluctant to change too much so re-fasten them with the help of Craig to add a bit of stability. I only got these a couple of weeks ago, Altra Timp from Yorkshire Runner. I’ve had to cut the back off the right heel support because it was too high and rubbed my Achilles causing a bit of pain. But now it’s perfect.
So far so good. 3 legs down, up on schedule and still moving, eating, drinking and talking well. Sally messages me to say I need to make it look a bit harder if I want to raise some more money for my son’s football team start up fund. But my fitness is good, my food choices have been excellent, supplemented by fruit and lucozade from my support team, and the company superb.
I wish I could put into words what it’s like to be out in the mountains with people you’ve a shared interest with but who you don’t know that well. It’s a bubble of excitement, there’s a shared purpose towards a goal, decision making matters, route choice is important, people are all working together. We all contribute - route finders, bag carriers, conversation starters, motivational speakers, silent companions.
We all shift through multiple roles towards a shared goal. It’s my round but it’s our day out. It’s our slice of time together, our story, our part of the path along the way. It’s a beautiful feeling - supporting people is one of the things I’ve missed most from being unable to run.
Being supported back in this way is a humbling experience. I love it. I don’t really want it to end - I’m just fit enough to be enjoying being way ahead of my notional 24 hour schedule which means I’m relaxed rather than chasing every minute. This is a new experience for me and one I will be eternally grateful for.
In the company of like-minded strangers I’m having the mountain running day out of my life!
Leg 4 Slievemartin to Spelga Car Park
Marc, Johnny. Darren, Craig McCauley and Steven Morgan later in. Road support Denise
The newly formed leg 4 team take over and as we cross Slievemartin and onwards the terrain becomes more challenging. Shoulder high grasses obscure the path, although you wouldn’t know it with Craig leading the way. Pretty sure he’s got some sort of laser guided navigation system because a foot either side of the way we’re going and I’d be absolutely lost in the grasses, being stalked by velociraptors from Jurassic park.
Ok. Maybe not. But probably the same outcome - end of the round. There’s a certain level of opinion about how ‘lovely’ the next couple of tops are however one being marked by a skull atop a wooden post makes it something to remember. And also to try and forget about the slog up.
Craig generally leads the way and I tuck in behind, he also feeds me more conventional salt tablets which are keeping the sickness I’ve been feeling at bay. Marc and Darren are a constant reassuring presence, either just behind or next to me and just as happy to move in silence as to chat away. Perfect. When it is finally time for Marc and Johnny to peel away at Pierce’s Castle we’ve covered a lot of ground together and we wish each other well.
Darren and Craig now point to a waving figure at the base of the next climb. Steven (Morgan) is waving his arms and greeting us from afar. Apparently something called work meant he has been slightly delayed but is pleased to have made it out for the last few tops on this leg. He’s an immediate burst of energy and conversation, pointing to previous round exploits and runs and races both near and far.
We have some fun on one of the tops trying to create a picture that shows me struggling and in pain in order to raise some more money. Acting, it seems, is something I need to work on! Although I’m not entirely pain free and I’m not entirely comfortable it’s not to the level of needing to push through. I’m at a level of sustainable discomfort which is best served with a big smile and a healthy dose of ‘shut up legs.’
As we come to the last top I feel like I need some food before dropping to Spelga so rummage around my pack and find a lump in the back that I can’t quite reach. I ask Darren to see if he can get it out and it turns out to be an apple. Kathleen would be proud.
I wonder out loud how long I’ve been carrying it and without missing a beat Darren says I’ve been carrying that apple for as long as I’ve known him. This really makes me laugh, and is entirely indicative of the relaxed, dry humour that has kept me entertained throughout this leg and makes up for my disappointment at not being able to run across the dam James Bond style, but rather having to drop down and then up again to the road.
I glance at my watch several times to check I’m not seeing things. It’s 9pm - that means I’ve got here in 16 hours and there’s a 5 and a half hour final leg to come. Which means I’ve got 8 hours to do 5:30 worth of round to finish. This is new territory for me. I can feel tears start to well up at how far I’ve come - both today and over the course of the last year.
I cruise into Spelga and a whole welcome committee greet me as I locate the chair and sit down next to Denise’s van. I ask for my spare clothes pack and elect to layer up while I’m sat, there’s also some weather on the way so I’ll need all the layers with me anyway. Denise passes me some chips and another coffee - amazing. I take a moment to just think about what I need and where I’m at, sort my kit and food out before relaxing into this stop. Denise is impressed I can still actually think straight this deep into the round - I am too to be fair!
I elect to extend my stop time to almost 20 minutes which includes kit check, food intake, clothing assessment and general hugging and thanking people for their contributions to the day.
Stephen (Bickerstaff) will be there at the finish with his van but I’ll most likely not see anyone else who has helped me for a long time, if ever. And yet the atmosphere is joyous. There’s so many people here, from throughout the day, and some partners as well. Photos are taken. Goodbyes are said.
As I thank Denise I’m really feeling quite emotional as I say that I couldn’t have done this without her. She accepts it but also bats it back - ‘you know what it’s like, it’s been a great day.’ And that pretty much nails it. We’re here for each other - we might not support the people who have supported us but we support the people who need it when we cross paths.
That’s the deal. That’s the ethos. That’s the beauty of community and continuity, of stories to share and pass on about days out having adventures. Finish or not, quick or slow, out for a long time or a quick time we all share some common ground where all that’s mattered are the miles to be covered and the company we keep. It’s a beautiful thing.
No tears - that was the message from Rick, who I have met before as I guided him on his leg 2 during his Bob Graham attempt earlier in the year. He introduces me to Thomas who will also be joining us on this final leg. After my longer than anticipated stop I’m feeling refreshed and ready to head into the night on what I’ve worked out is probably the hardest leg, but with time to spare.
It’s a farewell to most of my support from today which is bittersweet, but there’s still work to be done to get this round completed and you can only run one hill at a time.
Onwards.
Leg 5 - Spelga back to Newcastle
Thomas McKinley, Rick McKee. Road support Denise.
When Rick offered his services to support I immediately asked him to be on this leg. He’s someone I’d met before, so a known quantity (to some extent!), and run with for over 4 hours on his Bob Graham attempt. He was exuberant, matter of fact and committed to adventure on his own round enough to suggest he’d be a great person to have around as the end drew near.
And with him Thomas, who stays with me at my request early on in the leg while Rick goes on ahead. Often the pattern on rounds is one person leads, a little ahead, so mistakes can be ironed out before the contender gets there. As I’m chatting to Thomas it occurs to me that really there’s no need for this now. I’ve so much time to play with that mistakes are not going to be a major factor. Plus we’ve got a great big wall to follow for most of the remaining tops and the three of us together would be good fun.
So the three of us stride out together, hitting lines and illuminating the way with our headtorches as night properly falls. Rick seems to have eaten enough in his pre-run meal to power through twice the distance we’re intending to cover and together with Thomas they are good company to have to lift my waning spirits. It’s hard work. I’m moving slowly now. Very slowly.
I recognise where I am but conditions deteriorate to the extent that we can’t really see much. At all.
I stop to have a sit down on one of the climbs and have something to eat. The question is raised as to whether I’m a cairn toucher or will close enough be good enough? Turns out I’m a cairn toucher and further scrambling is needed in order to make this happen. I suspected it might matter to me and it does.
This leg is either up or down, there’s no run off or transitional running to be found. Thomas sends me a video the next day of the section we’re on with blue sky so I can see what it’s actually like. Stunning - but also steep up, steep down!
The wind and rain pick up and somehow, despite the wind, the visibility is only about two feet ahead. The weather is sucking the sense of humour out of the occasion and the descents are sketchy at best and ankle breaking at worst.
All my layers are now on. Apart from my waterproof trousers, I don’t think the heat loss from stopping would be worth the marginal improvement by putting them on. It’s all I can do to put one foot in front of another and I reckon that with only a few tops left I can tough this out. Albeit slowly.
The weather has certainly slowed me down. Or so I imagine as the time checks suggest we’re still on for 5:30 for this 5:30 leg. I glance at my watch and think I’m aiming for 22:30 for the round which I’m made up about.
On the final summit we fan out because the massive cairn is somehow completely invisible in the wind, rain and mist. I cover my headtorch with my hand and catch a glimpse of a shadow to my right as Thomas and Rick go further left. I move towards where it was, blind but pretty sure of what I’d seen. I fine tune my headtorch beam and it settles on the cairn. Brilliant.
I call them over and the decision of whether to follow the ridge down or go back to the wall and the way I’d started this morning is a no-brainer. Many times in the last couple of hours I’ve been blown sideways and nearly off my feet. Wall and path it is.
The wind drops as we descend, the familiar path I ran up on this morning laid out before me: down, down, down to the track, the bridges, the park. As we get closer to the car park I’ve warmed up enough to look properly at my watch. I ask Thomas to read it to me because my glasses are wet and steamed up. I’ve made a mistake on the tops in the conditions and realise that I’m actually on for a 21 hour 30 minute ish finish.
It’s actually a late night rather than an early morning finish time. This means I’m beaming inside and out as we leave the trees behind and hit the car park towards Donard Park entrance. I arrive and Stephen jumps out of the van to cheer us in. Rick and Thomas disappear to get changed as I also put a dry layer on immediately. You can’t mess about when you’re cold and wet after a run - sort it out first, deal with other stuff second.
Then it’s kettle on and Stephen makes us all cups of tea and noodles with bits of spare food from the day offered as post-run delicacies. I sit a bit stunned by what’s just happened. 21:36. A time well beyond my expectations without feeling like I was under pressure at all.
It’s been such a beautiful day that even the last couple of hours of proper mountain weather - the sort where you’re wondering if you can recall being out in worse, where you’d question setting off in it no matter how good you were feeling - can’t put a dampener on proceedings.
After heartfelt thanks and goodbyes I’m dropped back at the Hutt Hostel no later than a good night out, with time to sleep and work my way back to the airport in the morning. The shower is cold and I can’t work out how to make it warm in my somewhat tired state so have a nice ‘refreshing’ shower before putting all my things in a bin bag for the morning.
And I sleep.
Often there’s a buzzing, adrenaline fuelled, caffeinated gel, coffee-induced restless-leg night-sweat tossing and turning after a long run.
Not tonight.
I sleep for a good 6 hours and wake up ready to sort the return journey logistics and pack for home.
Still a bit stunned. Still a bit shaky on my feet. But feeling ten feet tall and like I can do anything. Apart from bend down to put my socks on, obviously.
Then there’s the journey home, via a couple of buses and a plane, posting the tracker back to Primal Tracking (this has been invaluable for supporters and friends and family at home) and informing the Denis Rankin Round committee that I’ve been successful. My thoughts drift towards what else might be possible now I know I can still do this… what’s next..?
I told my diagnosis and health management story of Hashimoto’s to pretty much everyone at some point during the day. From this time last year, where I couldn’t manage a full day without a sleep after a year of being unable to get out of bed, to now - back working full time since January and training to complete the round. It’s a wonderful feeling to be ‘back’, to be able to look at anything and go - I can do that if I want to.
I started planning for this round as a long shot, it was a whisper of a rumour of a possibility.
It’s now my proudest achievement.
A proper adventure, with great company.
A vindication of training easy and finding what works for you.
A door opened into a world of possibilities.
Thank you to everyone who helped me on this journey, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
39 mountain tops in a 56 mile loop, starting from and finishing at Donard Park in Newcastle, Northern Ireland, with over 22,000 feet of climb to be completed in under 24 hours.
I highly recommend the round to all those who love a challenge in the mountains. It’s beautiful, rugged, challenging and a stunning tribute to someone who was a pioneer in mountain running and who died doing what he loved in a race on Slievemoughanmore,
Denis Rankin.
