Yorkshire Dales, UK • August 2020 • Length of Read: 10 Minutes
We’ve all had that feeling of being stuck in our comfort zone, procrastinating away those tasks and activities that we know deep down will help us grow and develop as people. Instead of waking up at 6 am to sweat out that gym session, we hit the snooze button. Instead of working on that personal project, we lay in front of the television. Instead of studying for that exam, we needlessly scroll through our social media accounts. Old habits do indeed die hard.
That’s why, in 2008, when entrepreneur Jesse Itzler fell into a routine that he couldn’t get out of, he decided to take extreme action: by inviting a fully-fledged Navy SEAL to stay with him for 30 days and handing over complete control of his schedule. This SEAL was David Goggins, an ultra-runner and all-round badass. “If you’re crazy enough to ask a guy like me to come and live with you,” he’d said to Itzler, “then motherfucker I’m crazy enough to come.”
As documented in Itzler’s book Living with a SEAL, over the course of a month the pair undertook a series of bizarre physical and mental challenges; from submerging themselves in a frozen lake, to spontaneous burpee tests during business meetings, to running through a blizzard. Due to its absurdness, however, one challenge stood out head and shoulders above all others, capturing the minds of hundreds of like-minded individuals looking to push themselves to new limits: The 4x4x48 challenge - run 4 miles every 4 hours for 48 hours.
RUN #1 - 4/48 MILES - 8AM
It didn’t take much persuasion to convince my friends Jay and Gadams to join me on this undertaking, and no sooner had I pitched the idea were we searching for a suitable location. We wanted somewhere relatively equidistant from our hometowns, somewhere in the countryside where we could add scenery to our runs, and somewhere we could switch up the terrain and 4-mile routes at ease. The beautiful Yorkshire Dales ticked all of these boxes.
And that’s how we found ourselves in the car park of Fawston Reservoir in South Yorkshire on a rainy Thursday at 7:50 am, dressed as the 118-118 characters from the popular early 00’s TV advert. As we limbered up I was noticeably nervous and, despite not being under any time pressure or having any competition, still had those distinct butterflies that accompany pre-race jitters. Raising money for Age UK in the process, we had agreed to don fancy dress costumes at each £250 milestone.
Two guys of similar age to ourselves appeared from the public path, soaked to the bone, and upon seeing us bounced over with smiles like we were old friends.
“Love the costumes, guys,” said the shorter of the two, his purple marathon finisher’s t-shirt indicating that he wasn’t your fair-weather athlete. “We’ve just finished a 21 km loop. What are you up to?”
“We’re running the David Goggins 4x4x48 challenge for charity,” explained Jay.
“Ah yeah, I’ve heard of that. Here, let me take your photo. How many runs have you completed so far?”
“This is the start line,” admitted Gadams as the three of us huddled in for a picture.
“No wonder you look so fresh and cheery,” he said, handing back the iPhone and turning towards his car. “We need to head off to work now, but best of luck to you.”
We gave them thanks and as they departed we started our watches and set-off. The first part of the route took us along an A-road and the tooting horns of commuting cars offered some early support as we hollered ‘Got your number’ at each passing smile. The path then dropped down through a forest, winding its way to the banks of the reservoir where for 6 peaceful kilometers we circumnavigated the beautiful body of water. The first of twelve runs was an absolute breeze and as we stretched out our legs on the homeward section I couldn’t help but think to myself: ‘how hard can this challenge be?’
RUN #2 - 8/48 MILES - 12PM
After a large bowl of porridge for breakfast, Jay set out on a reconnaissance mission in his car to scout some future routes, returning half-an-hour later and boasting of a monster hill that we should incorporate into our second run. Still naïve to the challenge ahead, Gadams and I agreed wholeheartedly, and as we exited our farmhouse base at midday to blue skies we were raring to go.
Our costume of choice this time around was bananas, and as we strode onto the country road a vista of fields and hedgerows stretched as far as the eye could see. Unfortunately, our costumes made taking in these picturesque surroundings rather difficult. As did the persistent headwind, which effectively turned our bananas into buffers. It was like trying to run with an open parachute on your back. About a mile in, an oncoming Range Rover slowed to a halt and a well-dressed elderly gentleman stuck his head out of the driver-side window. “Are you guys running for charity?” he beamed, clearly entertained. It can’t be that often you see a bunch of bananas running about your backroads, I suppose. “Those costumes are fantastic. Give me the link to your donation page and I’ll be sure to contribute.”
Despite a knee injury having impacted my training schedule, my legs were feeling good. We continued on a declining gradient until the 3-mile mark, at which the dreaded hill appeared ahead of us like Mount Everest: a vertical mile of tarmac stretching skywards to the farmhouse. There was nothing for it but to face my head down and keep the motor running. The banana costume soaked up sweat like a sponge and became heavier and heavier with every shuffling step, but again the excitement of passers-by and their hoking horns motivated me to the top and the completion of mile number eight.
RUN #3 - 12/48 MILES - 4PM
We returned to the reservoir-loop for our third run, having spent the afternoon recovering in the hot tub and piling on the calories. It was apparent that our caloric intake would be through the roof for the duration of the challenge as our bodies tried to replenish the energy exerted every four hours. Anticipating this, we had carefully prepared our meals in advance so that we could feast immediately after each run and maximize our digestive and recovery time. Fitting then that we were now adorned in chefs hats and aprons, having surpassed the £750 donation mark.
As the sun beat down on us I fell behind Gadams and Jay, my knee becoming more and more uncomfortable with each twist and turn in the trail. I tried to keep the grimace from my face, but my worst fear was being realized much earlier in the challenge than I had anticipated. The IT-band runs from your glute down the outside of your thigh muscle and is a common injury among runners that can sideline them for months. When inflamed, it causes an unmistakable pain on the outside of your knee that feels like the stabbing of a dagger. Barely 10-miles into the challenge and I already was beginning to limp.
The reservoir was packed with visitors; couples out for romantic afternoon strolls, families pushing their babies in prams, and elderly friends out for a relaxing chat in the sunshine. Had I been alone and dressed less ridiculously then I may well have fallen into a walk. When you’re chasing two other chefs who also look like they are fleeing a burning kitchen, however, pride and self-consciousness come to the fore. The mantra ‘don’t care what other people think’ is a good one to live by, but at that moment in time caring what every passer-by was thinking served as the ultimate motivator to keep my legs going. Blocking out the pain, I completed the 4 miles in my slowest time yet, spurred on by the shout of ‘hurry up, you’ll be late for dinner’ coming from a small child out playing with her family.
RUN #4 - 16/48 MILES - 8PM
A Storage Hunters omnibus kept us entertained as I iced my leg with a bag of frozen peas. Jay was chowing down a chicken salad and Gadams working his way through a bag of potato waffles, proving that there was more than one way to fuel the body throughout the challenge.
We had earmarked a flat route along the country roads near our farmhouse for the next run - two miles out and two miles back. I traded my t-shirt for a knee-support and as we jogged towards the setting sun I felt night-and-day better than four-hours before. My body was adapting to its shortened circadian rhythm and, now a third of the way into the challenge, run-rest-repeat was becoming ingrained in my brain.
RUN #5 - 20/48 MILES - 12AM
After forty winks, I awoke at midnight to the news that we’d raised £1,000 for Age UK. Despite it being pitch black outside, a promise was a promise, so we pulled on our skimpy cheerleader costumes as a mark of hitting the milestone, strapped on our head-torches, and headed down to the reservoir. To mix things up we agreed to run anti-clockwise this time, and also to stick together conga-style so as not to get lost or wander off course. There was no moon in the sky to provide natural light, so the power of two AA-batteries was all I had beaming out in front of me.
It proved tricky to navigate the trail with blinkered visibility of about two metres, and the uneven, undulating surface was playing havoc with my stride pattern. This, in turn, put additional pressure on my knee, and twice in the first 400m I had to pull up and stretch out my right leg. Gadams and Jay stood strong in their promise to remain by my side for the 4-miles, however, and their words of encouragement were a God-send. Although the Ibuprofen was kicking in and helping, laughter is the best medicine and I couldn’t feel too downtrodden for long. The ridiculous costumes not only added novelty to our fundraising effort but were also serving as a motivational tool more than I’d ever imagined. No matter how badly I was hurting, the absurdity of running around Yorkshire in a skin-tight cheerleader costume completely took the pressure off and was a welcome distraction for the pain. One foot before the other and my prayers for the car park finish line to materialize in front of us were eventually answered.
With seven runs to go, I was severely doubting whether I was up for completing the challenge. I’d read online beforehand that it was as much a mental test as it was a physical one, and as my head hit the pillow at 1 am for a brief two-hour kip I was beginning to realize why. My mind was in constant motion and that ever-looming threat of the next run was omnipresent. Tick tock. Tick tock. Only three hours to go until we had to face it all over again. Who was going to carry the boats? Who was going carry the logs? We were.
RUN #6 - 24/48 MILES (HALFWAY MARK) - 4AM
A gorgeous sunrise over the countryside fields greeted us upon completion of our sixth run, and with the dawn of a new day came the confidence that I could finish the challenge. It was a huge psychological barrier to hit the halfway mark and after a hearty bowl of porridge and cleanse in the hot tub I felt like a new man. The rollercoaster of pain and emotions was an uncomfortable ride, but one I was now adamant that I wouldn’t fall off.
RUN #7 - 28/48 MILES - 8AM
After two runs guided by headtorch, it was a welcome sight to be setting off on the seventh run in daylight. We were quickly learning the country roads like the back of our hands, and each turn in the asphalt and gradient change served as a checkpoint: Farmhouse to the end of the driveway – 200m; farmhouse road to Give Way junction – 1 mile; A-road to the reservoir – 1.5 miles. If you’re looking to undertake this challenge, then I strongly recommend you do it in a rural area where the air is cleaner and the grass is greener. A fresh setting also gives you time to think, removes home-life distractions, and allows you to better escape routines.
RUN #8 - 32/48 MILES - 12PM
I was less than one kilometre into the eighth run and could already feel rivers of sweat coming off my forehead and flowing down my spine. The midday sun was so strong that it could have fried an egg on the baking hot tarmac and the ridiculous raver’s wig and floral patterned shirt I had on were not exactly keeping me cool. As each stride took us further into the furnace of Hell, however, we were spurred on by the hollers of encouragement from passing cars.
The Friday traffic was picking up as people traveled to the Dales for the weekend and the sight of three stupidly-dressed men running in unadorned surroundings was putting smiles on dozens of faces. We had personal motivations to complete the challenge, of course, but the fact that we could raise money for a good cause and entertain people at the same time was making it a far more rewarding adventure than I had ever anticipated it would be.
RUN #9 - 36/48 MILES - 4PM
With two-thirds of the challenge complete, we fell into a false sense of belief that the end was in sight. My whole body was beaten and broke, but I’d become accustomed to the perpetual pain which now persisted even in between runs. It was mind over matter from this point on. Some cloud cover had brought the temperature down and we eased through the ninth run with what felt like a good amount of reserves in the tank. A chicken and sweet potato curry was our reward and straight after dinner, I got some shut-eye before our final daylight run. The sleep deprivation was starting to take its toll.
RUN #10 - 40/48 MILES - 8PM
The cheerleader outfits made a triumphant return for our 8 pm outing, as did the Everest incline that we’d conquered in our banana costumes on run number 2. Setting off, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then and as the heavens opened the midday heat was now a long-gone memory. The rain came down as heavy as a South-East Asian monsoon and lightning cracked across the sky as my shoes began to fill with water. In a masochistic way, I welcomed this weather warning. It was an opportunity to harden my mind in tougher conditions, and I was relishing the opportunity. Jay and Gadams summited the monster hill a few minutes before I did and had their iPhones at the ready to catch me on tape as I reached the top. ‘Ten down, two to go,’ I smiled, raising my hands to the sky.
RUN #11 - 44/48 MILES - 12AM
What a difference 4 hours makes. From the excruciating pain of run 3 to cruising run 4 I felt like I’d been healed by Our Lady of Lourdes, but the complete opposite had now happened between runs 10 and 11. Making my way up the driveway I could have been mistaken for trying to imitate a John Wayne western, but a constantly moving bowel and sandpaper-like toilet paper does that to you. Considering my condition, we agreed to just run shuttles back and forth along the farmhouse road until the 6.4 km was complete, and I set off in earnest.
I’d made myself a promise to never walk. Once that happens, then you’ve succumbed to the mental battle. There were no rules against it, mind you, but had I not run every step of the way I would have felt like a bit of a charlatan. The penultimate run proved to be the slowest and most difficult of the lot as I fought against a sprained ankle for the majority of the distance, but the end was now tantalizingly close.
RUN #12 - 48/48 MILES - 4AM
My final alarm clock went off with the pitch of an air raid siren, but knowing that we were embarking on the final 4-mile victory lap I sprung out of bed ready to empty the tank. It’s somewhat fitting to complete such a mentally and physically exhaustive challenge in the manner that we did. No fanfare. No finish line set up. No crowds cheering us on. Only the sound of our heavy footsteps and breathing accompanied us as our GPS watches ticked over the 48-mile mark at 4:40 am. “You don’t know me, son” I yelled out into the early dawn, beating the rooster’s crow.
My whole body hurt, from my busted knee to my peeling feet to the jabbing pain in my back that felt like I’d been punched in the kidney. But we had completed what we set out to do with fairly minimal fuss and taking the highs and lows in our stride. We stumbled in the front door of the farmhouse, stripped off our sweaty clothes for one last time, and crashed out. With £2,200 raised for Age UK – challenge complete.
If you wish to donate to Age UK and support a fantastic cause, then please visit the link below: