Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race Day 3. The Everest Challenge Marathon

The problem with staying on the top of a mountain is that there is not a lot to do. Our Sherpa Huts are very nice Sherpa Huts – but they are still just Sherpa Huts. Wooden huts, with wooden floors and a load of twigs burning in a tin can on the floor. No lights, no heating and the only facility a hole in the ground. In fact our huts are so basic that even the Sherpas sleep outside.

But I took comfort by mentally rebranding the place as my Olympic Village – but without Sue Barker.



After our stuff that tasted a bit like food – and remember that it was dark by 5 o'clock – the only entertainment available to the field of international athletes was ... me! Well I tried my best. I tried to talk to people about my achievements, about my Olympic Gold Medal in 2012, about my training regimes, about how I could have won this Indialand event if I'd wanted to etc etc.

Unfortunately most of them were obviously a little too tired and so by about 5.30 I was left with the bloke from Italy who ran with a packet of Benson and Hedges down his shorts. So, I chatted to him for about an hour or so – he was obviously enthralled by some of my stories, yarns and anecdotes because he just sat there listening intently – never uttered a word. Not even when I stood up and said 'Goodnight'. He just sat there staring at the floor.

So, it was bed by 6.30 for your man here. Which is fine. No need to get undressed because I slept in what I'd been wearing for the last two days. By 7 o'clock I was in the land of Nod. The problem is, though, that I'd had enough kip after 6 hours – and so at 1 am I'm wide awake – and I then had another restless four hours until it got to 'Up Time'. The wind was howling all night too as a storm raged outside our hut and the temperature had, once again, headed south of Zero. Inside our Hut, the air was so damp that everything – including bedding – was soaked in a film of ice cold moisture.



Am I describing the scene in a best seller kind of way for you?

Up I sprung then out of my bed and to my first job of the day - medication. More Dimox. Decongestion, malaraia, neurofen and some anti poo pills.

Today's stage is a special one – its the Everest Challenge Marathon – a 27 mile stage which has some bits of uphill, retracing some of yesterday's route, and then features a steep decline from 12,000 ft to 6,000 ft, finishing in the village of Rimbik. We're joined today by three particpants who have arrived just to do the Everest Challenge Marathon – they had arrived after a seven hour journey in a jeep up the mountain. It is of much comfort to yours truly that all the Jeeps being used are, in fact, Land Rovers – and British to boot. The comfort is tempered only by the fact that the newest in their fleet was manaufactured in 1947!!



Even though there were now two Swedish girls and a Finish man with a beard in our midst, everybody kept their clothes on.

As we waited for the start of today's stage I was suddenly overwhelmed by an urge to poo. I go red with the effort of preventing an embarrasing situation and try to take my mind off it by thinking of some of my favourite Cannon and Ball sketches and humming 'I'm a Little Teapot'.

The marathon runners set off at 6.00 bang on Himalayan Time at 6.45 and as its a big day for the Half Share I ask some American bloke to tell her to have a good race. At 7.15 we board our Jeeps for the 2 mile downhill journey to the start of our 8 mile trek to Rimbik. The journey is nothing short of hairy as we attempt to negotiate the steep switchback tracks – with sheer drops of hundreds of feet inches away from the door. Our driver tells us that its a tradition that visitors to Nippall are drawn to the beauty of the mountains so much that they swear to return within seven years. I remind him that there is a British tradition that if the driver didnt keep his chuffing eyes on the road I'd lamp him one.

So, off we set on our 8 mile trek – pah!! The distance was actually a tad more than 8 miles. We did 15 miles!



It is, though, a very pleasant route as we walk through the cloud cover from 10,500 ft down to 9,000 ft – at which point we enter the jungle. Now this is no pretend jungle – its a real live jungle with lots of green things hanging around, loads of different types of poo and, in fact, the place had a real Tarzan feel to it – heck it even had proper noises like they used to have on Daktari. The jungle in this part of West Bengal is home to Red Panda, Wild Boar (oh no!), Snow Leopards and lots of other animals that would have made Billy Smart happy. But though we heard lots of scary noises we didn't see any animals. Turns out most of the noises were made by a nutty woman in our group anyway.


The nutter was some kind of Red Indian woman from America. I walked the first five miles with her and got very annoyed at having to keep picking her up. The stupid woman had insisted on meditating as she walked – with her chuffing eyes closed! She kept saying that God would get her to the bottom of the mountain and how she didn't need her eyes. Well, if God was going to get her down he was having a bad day – and to be honest, just a casual observer though I may have been, God seemed to be pretty rubbish at getting people down mountains.

I eventually tired of the pesky woman and so, after, five miles I did the British thing. I dumped her and told her to liaise directly with her maker – and I'd see her at the bottom. I then caught up with MOS and her Personal Shopper who were composing a shopping list for when we arrived in Rimbik. Also walked a little way with my new friend Joe from Canadia and my British friend George. The last couple of miles were quite tough as we entered the village of Rimbik at 8,000 ft via a steep downhill cobbled track. The poo business was becoming a real problem and I had one of those embarrassing moments when I tripped over a tree root and did one of those trip/stumble/little run type sequences to regain my balance - with each step I took being accompanied by a short burst of wind breaking each time my right foot hit the ground. Our Sherpas seemed to appreciate my 'performance' and broke into a round of applause. I did shout loudly at them that though I might be a celebrity I wasn't a ruddy cabaret act – and told them to stop staring at me. I did subsequently apologise – but I just so needed the toilet I was just a tad grumpy I suppose.



Eventually we arrived at the Sherpa Lodge in Rimbik and I threw down my rucksack and dashed to the toilet – only emerging red in face some twenty minutes later. Thank God I can now forget about lavatorial issues.

The Sherpa Lodge in Rimbik is a stunning place perched on the mountainside with spectacular views and my welcome was complete when we were given a plate of chips with tomato ketchup and a bottle of beer. Heaven!! I was also able to change out of the clothes I'd been living, walking and sleeping in – and even enjoyed a hot shower. Heaven again.



Captain Underpants had been back in for hours after having finished the marathon in a ridiculous time of 4 hours 32 minutes, with the first girl finishing in 5 hours 10 minutes. Pah! Was I supposed to be impressed?

I then settled down and somewhat irritatingly had to wait the arrival of the Half Share. Nightfall came and we were still sitting in pitch blackness waiting for the bally woman to turn up. Whilst outwardly showing some signs of concern – particularly after hearing some of the horror stories from the finishers – inwardly I was feeling quite smug. For the second day in a row I'd beaten her to the finish – so I was now winning. Of course she would later claim that she'd done more miles than me – but, hey, whose fault was that?????

To be honest I was getting a bit miffed with all the hanging around and it was beginning to look as though I'd have to do my unpacking myself when she eventually bowled over the line after 10 hours 36 minutes. I suppose I was mildly impressed at her achievement and so, in addition to a cursory hand shake and a nod I gave her a bit of my Chunky Kit Kat. I reminded her that her time was slower than any of her previous marathons but she started to say how tough it was. Yeah yeah yeah – its just another marathon for God's sake!! Apparently the descent was very steep. So? I did the Loch Ness Marathon without whinging. I did the Bexhill 10K without muttering how windy it was on the sea front didn't I? Just deal with it!



Anyway my irritation was complete after she'd described every inch of the so-called murderous descent, down dried up river beds and gullies, how they had to run through the jungle and then across the bridge over the canyon at Srikhola. But apparently it was OK because Darren helped her down the steep bits. And Darren helped her across the rope bridge. Oh - and Darren looked after her when it got dark and she couldnt see where she was going. It was Darren this and Darren that and Darren the chuffing other. And then to top the night this bloke Darren - some South African bozo with acne - then started sniffing around "just checking to see if she's all right Mate".

Mate? Mate?

So I decked him and went for another poo.

Bed and sleep came rather more easily tonight. The problems with altitude would now start to ease, I could poo, I'd had a couple of beers and I'd decked a South African. Life couldn't get any better I thought.

Tomorrow - a pleasant day spent on a diplomatic mission to mingle with lots of foreigners. I'll tell you all about it soon.

Keep on tapering.

Ron