Why, oh why, oh why?

“Hell” was how I described my first experience of the Spine in 2024. As a softie southerner, the terrain I faced out along the course seemed otherworldly to me. That we were expected to run through it in ‘feels like’ -18C was beyond my comprehension. I emerged more broken than I ever thought possible.

The event took me a long while to process. I couldn't pull together all the pieces.

Where was this memory from? Did that vague recollection actually happen? What would those sections look like outside the halo of a headtorch?

What would have happened if I’d have diverted to Keld, or stopped at Tan Hill? Should I have used my spikes on the ice? What if I'd have been more disciplined with fuelling and hydration?

Should I have slept less, or more? Or napped on the trail? Could I have avoided the hallucinations? The sleep-deprived staggering?

What if I'd have taken warmer layers? Larger shoes? A bigger pack? Or could I have travelled even lighter?

What if I'd have fixed the issues with my pack and gloves? Taken more dehydrated meals? Had a better checkpoint plan? Slept well in the days before the race?

What if the weather had been wetter? Less icy? What if I'd have started slower? Could I get to Alston quicker if I had an extra spoon of John’s Chilliewack?

What if I was consumed by a bog? What if I miscalculated my layers and became hypothermic? What if rain continued for days?

Did everyone else suffer like I did? How did the frontrunners maintain their race discipline? How did the tailrunners keep going with the extra pressure of chasing cutoffs?

Could I become any better at the race? Could I ever enjoy it? Did I even want to find out?

When 2025 entries opened a few weeks later, my head was still spinning with a million questions.

I didn't want to run the Spine again, ever. But equally I had to unearth some of the answers. I couldn't leave it like this.

I entered again for 2025, and immediately felt a sensation of dread in the pit in my stomach like no other.

Over the following months, I recounted the events of my Spine in as much detail as I could into my Trail Explorer blog. It was all I could do to tell the story blow-by-blow, as it happened. As soon as I reached the finish in Kirk Yetholm, I drew the line there. I made no effort to analyse the whole. My brain was kaput, and I was done.

I shoved everything else to the back of my mind. I forgot about my questions. I forgot why I'd entered 2025.

As the year rolled to a close, I restarted my familiar training and kit preparations. But why I was doing this again, I no longer knew.

In the weeks before the race, I used a vlog on YouTube specifically to explore some of the possible reasons; but even that missed the mark, and I could sense it at the time. I'd genuinely repressed the reason I was going back, and I couldn't seem to unearth it.

When I started pounding a trail back along the Pennine Way, memories started coming back. Questions resolved down to concrete answers. And, gradually, I remembered why I had sent myself back here, to subject myself yet again to the indescribable ordeal that is the Winter Spine.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll craft a blog post that explores some of these questions about the Spine race. I hope it'll give a deeper insight than last year’s War and Peace epic.

For now, I’d just like to thank everyone who was involved in getting me from Edale to KY again, enabling me to indulge my curiosity and relive the memory of 2024.

When I really think about it, this couldn't have happened without the help of so very many people behind the scenes - not tens, or hundreds, but literally thousands of people. I was just the one with the running shoes on.

It’s as clear a reminder as any of our social nature as humans, and our interdependence on one another to both survive and thrive. Of the need for political and economic systems that support our ability to work together; and the dark risks emerging from subversive political groups like Reform UK, and so-called media like Talk TV, that are working to unpick this very social fabric upon which we depend.

It's in the deepest and darkest of places that the light becomes clearest. Perhaps the Spine will help show us the way 🙏