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The Fellsman isn’t just another long run—it’s a proper test of endurance, navigation, and stubbornness. Held every spring in the Yorkshire Dales, the route stretches roughly 62 miles (100 km) from Ingleton to Threshfield. On paper, that’s already serious. In reality, it’s tougher: around 11,000 feet of climbing, rough fell terrain, bogs that swallow shoes, and weather that can flip from sunshine to full-on survival mode in a few hours. This year at the Fellsman:
 The Fellsman 2026 – Race Report - Luke Jones Ingleton to Threshfield – 62 miles through the Yorkshire Dales A game of two halves I had a relaxed start to the day. Woke up naturally at 5:15, got ready, and made the short five-minute walk from the B&B to the coach at Threshfield. The drive over to Ingleton was scenic, but you could feel the tension on board—plenty of experienced runners swapping stories. For many, this wasn’t their first Fellsman. I tucked into an egg and bacon sandwich and a flapjack kindly prepared by the B&B hosts—solid start. At Ingleton, I queued for my tracker, race number, and tally card, then found a bit of sun and had a cup of tea while chatting to other runners. Calm before the chaos. The start was exactly that—chaotic. People heading off in all directions. I stuck to what I knew from my recce, jogging steadily up the road before hitting the climb to Ingleborough. Early on, Barney Plummer cruised past—he’d go on to win by over two hours. Poles out, head down, and into the climb. I was sweating early and already thinking about the heat, making a conscious effort to keep sipping fluids. Over the summit, first of 25 tally punches done, then a controlled descent towards Hill Inn. Felt comfortable.  After refilling water, I pushed on towards Whernside. Another steady climb with the poles, passing a few runners, even spotting Ben Rothery mid hill reps with his top off—different game altogether. Summit, punch, and back down. Still moving well, holding back slightly. The descent into Kingsdale was boggy, but the shoes held up well—good call in the end.  Then the climb to Gragareth. The heat really started to bite here. I passed a few struggling runners and was glad to reach the top where it felt slightly cooler. From there, a long runnable section towards Great Coum—I moved well here, passing quite a few people. In hindsight, maybe a bit too well. After Great Coum, the descent into Flinter Gill delivered the usual—straight into a bog. Then a steep, rocky section where I settled into a rhythm with a small group. Fatigue was creeping in, and I was ready for Dent checkpoint. Dent checkpoint: kit check, food, fluids. Took a few minutes to reset—Tailwind, a bit of soup, and a breather. Left with another runner and we stuck together for a while, chatting as we climbed towards Blea Moor. Eventually pulled away and enjoyed the more runnable sections into Stone House. Stone House was a big lift—Anna and Chester were there waiting. Ate some pasta, topped up bottles, and headed out. Then came the climb to Great Knoutberry. This is where things turned. The heat peaked, and the nausea hit, dipping my hat in every stream I could find. Whether it was the temperature, the sugar, or electrolytes—I couldn’t get much down from this point on. Reached the summit, punched, and started descending, but the legs had gone flat.  At Redshaw, seeing Anna and Chester again gave me a boost, but I was struggling. The climb to Dodd Fell was a low point. Another runner came past strong after earlier struggles. I reminded myself of my coach’s advice about the bogs, tried to stay patient, and waited for a second wind that didn’t quite arrive. Passed a runner heading out with a groin injury—puts things into perspective. I was still moving.  At Fleet Moss, I made the call to stop properly and try to eat. Anna and Chester were there again—Chester even helping fill bottles. That lifted me. Temperature was dropping, so I layered up and headed out. The next section was strangely quiet. Woodland, river noise, no one around. After a longer stop, I expected to be swallowed up, but no one came. It felt odd—I thought I was moving slowly, but apparently not that slow. At Marsett, even the volunteers were surprised by the gaps. From there to Stake Moss, it was run-walk. Another runner caught me, I let him go—long game now. The 16-hour target was slipping. Then, out of nowhere—two camping chairs in the distance. Anna and Chester again, eating pizza, watching the sunset. Honestly thought I was hallucinating. Unreal boost.  Pushed on to Cray—technical descent, getting dark, getting cold. At the checkpoint, I saw some strong runners retiring. That was never on the table for me. Layered up, got the headtorch on, forced down some food. Just as I was leaving—Anna and Chester again. One last boost before heading into the night. Buckden Pike in the dark was a different world. I’d recced it, but it didn’t matter—visibility was minimal with mist reflecting the headtorch. Still, the nausea eased and I found a rhythm climbing. Completely alone now, but it felt peaceful. Eventually spotted the red beacon at Park Rash and made my way down. Rice pudding. The highlight. Finally something I could eat properly. A few salted potatoes too. “10 miles to go,” the volunteer said. Mentally tough at that point. Climbed Great Whernside, got disoriented in the mist, and ended up in another bog—this time freezing cold. Slight panic, but pushed on. Kicked a rock hard—toe in bits. Not ideal. Navigation was tricky with multiple beacons not matching up to my GPS — I made a few wrong turns before another runner came through. Reached Yanbury eventually, expecting relief… but it still felt like a slog. From there, it was about getting it done. Long road descent, run-walking, passing runners from the shorter Dart race. One final climb out of Grassington, then over the bridge towards the finish. Just before the end, Anna and Chester pulled up alongside me in the car and followed me in. 16 hours 24 minutes finishing in 27th I couldn’t believe how close I got to the 16-hour target, especially after how rough the second half felt. Absolutely buzzing. |
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