The Bob Graham Round Part 1: Introduction
Wow. Where do I start?
To do this series of blog posts justice, I need to give some background as to what the Bob Graham Round means to me - so please stick with it while I go off on a massive tangent. I promise future posts will be filled with actionable insights that will make you a better athlete… Maybe…
I, like countless others, first learned of the Bob Graham Round (BGR) back in 2005 by reading the legendary ‘Feet in the Clouds’ by Richard Askwith. If you haven’t read it, stop what you’re doing and buy a copy now. It’s one of the greatest sports books ever written, delving into the history and culture of not just the Bob, but of fell running as a whole. If you don’t know much about the BGR and need some more context quickly, watch this Salomon video before reading on. Spine-tingling stuff.
After reading ‘Feet in the Clouds’ I was instantly both hooked and terrified about the idea of attempting a Round. It felt so impossibly beyond my capabilities in that moment, but I had to know if I could do it.
Like all good challenges, the BGR rapidly got under my skin in a way I can’t explain. I traced the route on a map which took pride of place on my bedroom wall; I started visiting the Lakes to recce the route; and I eventually began supporting attempts in 2008. It was through the Bob that my deep love for the mountains developed, so it’s not unreasonable to say that the BGR shaped my entire outlook on life. It really is that deep for me.
My best friend and training buddy, James Thompson, was killed in Afghanistan around the time that I first began to feel like an attempt was within reach. I felt robbed of a lifetime of memories that we were yet to make, one of which being to have him alongside me on my own Round – and possibly even supporting his attempt too. This became a core motivation for completing my own BGR: to take him with me in spirit around those 42 mythical peaks.
My army career rudely got in the way of making any attempts for the next decade, but in early 2020 I got the itch once more. Attempt number one came in 2021 after a solid training block, but I badly sprained my ankle at mile 40 and bum-shuffled off the fells. Attempt two was in 2023; this one ended in hypothermia at mile 38 due to a combination of bad weather and poor admin (as a soldier of 15 years this makes my skin crawl with embarrassment, but shit happens).
I was desperate for a third crack at the BGR, but I had a major health scare in 2024 which threatened to end my running career (which I talk about in this post). Thankfully, some quick treatment got me back to a good level of fitness in February of this year. I was so thrilled to be alive, let alone running well, I just thought “fuck it, why not try again in the summer?”. The date for attempt three was quickly set for June 20th, and I began a short but focused training block with an emphasis on quality and health over volume and vert.
Spoiler alert: it went well. I took 21 hours and 55 minutes to return to the Moot Hall via all 42 peaks, just inside my 22hr schedule and comfortably inside the magic 24. It was one of the best days of my running life, surrounded by like-minded people whose sole motivation was to see me achieve a 20-year dream. Even more meaningful was the surreal feeling of having Jimbo with me the whole way.
I could write a short novel on the incredible memories of my Round, and maybe I’ll eventually write a post reflecting on the day itself. But for now, I want to use my third attempt as a bit of a case study in psychological performance. What worked well? What could I have improved on? And what lessons can I pass onto my coaching clients?
The main areas I’ll focus on are:
Purpose and goals: why was I doing this? What did ‘good’ look like for me? What was going to keep me putting one foot in front of the other when this shit hit the fan? I believe many athletes make glaring errors in this regard, and a poorly thought-out ‘why’ can be the catalyst for much of the negative self-talk that then leads us to quit or self-sabotage.
Executing and amending the plan: to misquote Mike Tyson, everyone has a plan… until they’re tripping over boulders up on the Scafells with 13 hours in their legs. But what mental tools allowed me to stay focused on my plan, or respond positively and decisively when the plan needed to change?
Going deep and not quitting: This was probably the second deepest I’d ever gone in my life. I can promise you that there isn’t a single human on this planet (without a traumatic brain injury) who can voluntarily explore their physical limits without thinking about quitting once or twice. I thought about it a bunch of times. But I kept going, and I did so by using some simple-but-effective tools to remain present, non-judgmental and unhooked from my thoughts.
I might also finish up with a quick summary of my training, in the hope that it’ll be beneficial for anyone with their eye on the BGR. My personal approach to training has really evolved over the last decade, not least because of the guidance of other top coaches, and I feel like this block rectified many of the mistakes I see ultra athletes making lately.
Coming up next: “purpose and goals”…