The Mountain Within

Let’s not beat around the bush, there was a reason for completing probably one of the toughest challenges in the UK, which until the 26th August 2023 only six people in history had ever completed. To put that into context, more people have stepped foot on the moon. After being medically discharged from the British Army last year after completing 34 years of service, and suddenly losing Bessy our incredible Staffy in January of the same year, I came close to taking my own life.

I was ashamed, embarrassed, I felt like a coward and a hypocrite and I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. My wife Emma is the only person in whom I confided and it took me a long time to come to terms with my actions and tell her. It was then that I knew I had to do something to support other veterans out there who were struggling, many whom don’t often have the same level of support and love that I was so fortunate to have.

I had to find a way to make people sit up and listen, and so I decided to complete all 214 Wainwrights in a single self-supported non-stop round. After conducting months of research and planning, the date was set for the 1st August 2023, starting from Moot Hall in Keswick. This would allow me 25 days to complete the ultra-endurance challenge. I would be supporting Combat Stress in an attempt to raise their profile across the UK and conduct some important fundraising at the same time.

I intended to follow the Paul Tierney speed record route with some necessary changes. His route is approximately 540km long. Mine would be around 600km due to physically not being able to commit to the fell running lines carrying an exped bergan weighing in excess of 20kgs. This would also include 36,000m of ascent (four times the height of Mt Everest from sea level). This would, as always, be subject to the most important and unpredictable factor prevalent whilst in the mountains, the weather!

It’s important to understand that being self-supported meant a great deal of pre-planning and, not least, the setting up of 8 replenishment stashes strategically placed around the 600km route. This would allow me 3 days of supplies on my person before reaching each stash for a replenishment. This also meant it was imperative that I reached each stash on time so I didn’t run out of food and supplies. As a type 1 diabetic, and someone suffering with autoimmune syndrome, and an ileostomy necessitating a permanent stoma, it isn’t an understatement to say that getting this wrong could be life threatening. The crux of this ultra-endurance event would undoubtedly be in keeping my organs functioning and disabilities in check, and with precise accuracy.

At 0600hrs I set off from Keswick joined by Springy, my former Sergeant Major, Rob the Second in Command of Combat Stress and the world-famous mountaineer Alan Hinkes OBE. It was of course hammering it down, which to my dismay continued for the next 5 days. On Day 6 the weather finally broke and I completed the longest planned day in extremely warm conditions. Unfortunately, this would have an impact on the next two days as I was forced to filter less than desirable water from a high mountain tarn to mix with my much needed High5 powder to keep my blood sugars from becoming too low. After a couple of hours, I started to suffer with DV. Owing to the absence of any bowels or indeed a rectum, the DV continued to fill the stoma with liquid, requiring continuous emptying and increasing my dehydration and risk of hypoglycaemia. I gritted my teeth and made it to the end of Day 6 and continued to be ill all night, whilst carefully balancing the need to stabilise my condition against preparing for the following day.

0500hrs and the start of Day 7. I had struggled with my blood sugar control all night but needed to press on across the Scafell massive. I have completed numerous extreme courses, expeditions and competitions during my 34 years’ service including 17 Ironman events. I have been a diabetic for almost 30 years and deployed on many operational tours, something unheard of in most serving personnel. Needless to say, I have a pretty good understanding of my disability, and its impact on my body. I was not prepared for the next 8 hours trekking across some pretty technical terrain whilst in a near constant hypo!

Eventually breaking down in tears with the realisation that there was the potential for me to slip into a coma on the side of the mountain and with once again honking weather probably unlikely to be found for some time, I realised it was potentially over. I managed to get a signal and called my wife. Concerned for my safety she too came to the same conclusion. I thought of all the wounded soldiers who I’d worked with during my Battleback years and pictured these incredible individuals with horrific physical and mental injuries and recalled such impressive tenacity.

"It’s not about what you can’t do but all about what you can do", words I had told them all countless times. After taking a detour I decided to carry on, I knew I wouldn’t reach my objective that day, so I decided to make camp close to a clean running stream, drink as much fresh water as possible to hopefully flush out my system and once again sort out my admin and control my blood sugars.

Having survived the last couple of days, even though I was now a day behind schedule, I felt strong again and was back on track. Onwards and upwards! There were many periods along the 26-day journey where I felt like giving up, I struggled with negative thoughts and constantly questioned why I was doing this. I spent many hours talking to myself out loud, days and days passed without seeing another person and experienced several moments, including river crossings and downclimbing graded scrambles which resulted in very near misses. Out of those 26 days, only 7 of them could be classed as good weather. I walked for days soaked to the bone but maintained a rigorous wet and dry routine each night to ensure my tent remained a place of sanctuary and not of misery. The military had taught me well.

There were many highlights, thinking of them now as I type these notes I am welling up. Many of my friends and former colleagues joined me along the route, some of them as a surprise... Les! They were a massive lift to my morale and gave me the strength and determination to keep going. I also met some wonderful Cumbrian locals that showed me unbelievable acts of kindness that I will never forget. And to all the Wainwright baggers that stopped to chat and were stunned to hear I was completing all 214 in one sitting, some of them jealous as it had taken them over 40 years, I say thank you. I witnessed amazing sunsets and sunrises, herds of deer running across the fells below me, sheets of rain billowing in front of a rainbow close enough for me to touch, and a heron landing within metres of my tent, just to say hello! Countless experiences which brought me to tears, overwhelmed with joy and beauty of Lakeland life.

What have I learned? To appreciate the simple things in life, to take nothing for granted and to love Emma more! When you are faced with difficulties try not to worry about what inevitably is confronting you but instead look over your shoulder and see how far you have come. Anything is possible if you believe in the cause and you keep going, and never give in. In order for you to know your true limits you have to push them first. I know that I have cast aside some demons I have carried for far too long, the mountains have always been my sanctuary and I wish for everyone to experience a brief period of my journey. It was the reason why I set up Extreme Outdoors to allow anyone, not least our veteran community, to live that experience to support their own mental wellbeing.

Finally, for those who love stats, I travelled a total distance of 709.78km and climbed 43,528m of ascent, one more Mount Everest than planned, for good measure and a test of my determination, and finally I lost 12% of my overall body weight! Please donate today, and help the 2 million veterans in need of our support.