A Navigation leg, run as a pair – Geoff Davies and Nigel Heppell were sent away ahead of the mass start by the combined efforts of Graeme W(leg 1) and James G/Paul E(leg2).The map is only handed to us after we are a few hundred metres into the race and tells us that the course is 11.2km long with 520m ascent through 7 checkpoints.
By the time we return we have recorded 14.7km and 727m … but manage to hold on to 170th place out of 242 teams(Overall, Elvet Men are 18th of 38 teams in the V40 category).
The route we chose comprised trods with loose rocks, interminable gritty uphill tracks, precipitous descents through deep heather; thigh-height stream crossings; ascents so steep you could nibble the bilberries direct from the bush just by leaning forward slightly, headlong downhill charges through tussocky grasses hiding foot-sized holes in the ground;- and then it got harder when we reached the boggy bits! I face-planted a couple of times and felt my life-force draining away more than once.
Pleased to get to the last 1/2mile of steep grass followed by mud into the finish – for the first time I find myself in front of Geoff, and it happens to coincide with the only photo of us –not a true reflection of events at all
And from Nina:
A stunning setting and good weather greeted us at the fell relays. I ran the navigation (third) leg with Tricia, and had so much fun (more than is usual in a race, for sure!).
After pacing round the ‘handover’ pen waiting to spot Fiona and Elaine running in from leg 2, we were suddenly off, with a sharp climb up out of the woods, collect the map, and set off uphill to the first checkpoint.
Tricia and I made a good team, sharing the lead running (or clambering!) and discussing and agreeing on the nav. I had my compass out a couple of times just to be sure the hills were in the right place, but as visibility was superb it wasn’t really needed on the day. The terrain was mixed, and together we found plenty of mud, streams, vegetation – and some runnable bits too.
We made pretty decent progress round the course, with the exception of one route choice between checkpoints where we thought direct was the best bet. In hindsight it wasn’t. We could see a trod on the far hillside, but had to find (fight) our way through a couple of hundred yards of dense, tall bracken to reach it. As we didn’t have our machetes this slowed us down a little, though made the day particularly memorable! Crawling under the bracken as the easiest way up a steep hill is a new one for me.
A brilliant experience, sharing a race with the best fell runners in the country, and with strong, supportive Striders’ teams. Great fun running with Tricia. A special mention to Adrian for ‘hanging around’ in a muddy field and supporting all day – rewarded (as was I) with a pub meal and a couple of pints. Very well done to the hosts – Dark Peak – for ending the legs with a hugely entertaining downhill (whether running or spectating!) and for organising an unforgettable day.
Heading for the last bit now, late in the day; head down, knees hurting, breathing heavy, heart pounding; arms sore from swinging back and forth; someone coming up behind me, give it one last push into the final straight, and yes, – that’s the granddaughter off the swing and into the arms of her dad after another day of child-minding is over! Now, where was I?
Oh yes; Tom’s Bransdale Fell Race: – cursory glance at the FRA calendar a few days earlier and I saw this race coming up soon; not been there before; opportunity to explore another part of the NYM; no previous reports on the Strider’s website; let’s have a go at it; sensible to car-share, any takers? Mike B and Simon D respond so I take a glance at the map and see that Bransdale is only a little east of, but at the same latitude as, Chop Gate with which I am familiar and have run a number of Dave Parry’s NYM races from: so, that’s 1hr 20 mins travel from mine; factor in extra minutes for Mike to get to me after work and then collect Simon down the road; add 15 min to get across into the Bransdale valley, and if we leave at 5.30pm we’ll get there for 7pm with 15mins in hand for traffic/parking/registering contingencies. That’s the plan then, all agreed by email, albeit at relatively short notice for those intending to take part.
Scroll on to Thursday, the day of the event: now I would normally do a bit of extra research into entry requirements, race routes, navigation issues, travel problems, etc, but I’m definitely time-poor in the run-up to this race; anyone with a work or care commitment will recognise the situation, and, as I breathe a sigh of relief when grand-daughter disappears 10 mins before Mike B is due to arrive, I realise I have not properly checked the route to Bransdale where parking may be a problem so I have a quick Google and am suddenly faced with the stark realisation that yes, the head of Bransdale valley where the race begins is ‘near’ Chop Gate, but the only way to get to it by car is by a long journey south to the limit of the NYMs, straight through Chop Gate and on to Helmsley, east to Kirbymoorside, and north on very minor roads along the full length of Bransdale itself. 75miles or so, and a minimum of 2 hrs if we are lucky!
Rapid re-appraisal; unless I drive like a maniac/idiot, this event is not going to happen for us tonight; no way could we get there with enough time sensibly to park up, register, race prep’, etc (even if I don’t do warm ups!) and stop vomiting from the drive up narrow country lanes. Oh yes, the A19 south is also closed due to a collision between a lorry and a car! Nothing about a running event is worth driving like a maniac/idiot to get to and so- that’s it – cancellation!
Quick email to Simon who has only just realised the enormity of the journey for himself and is happy to let it go, but too late for Mike who arrives and, not entirely disheartened, we have a cup of tea and a chat.
Moral of the story? – Do your homework – not just about the race route, but how are you going to get there (and back: – for example, personal experience suggests that motorbikes do not combine well with leg cramp after a stiff fell race – can still be fun though!) – Health and Safety lecture over And so, Tom’s Bransdale Fell Race remains untouched by Elvet Striders – anyone available in the early afternoon for a trip out next July?
First running of this FRA category AL race; a 23km/1300m (14.3 miles/4265ft) route taking in the climbs of the northern edge of the North Yorkshire Moors: hosted by Esk Valley Fell Club.
Apparently, this is the only AL (long, and lots of climbs) fell race to be held on the North Yorks Moors (NYM).
Now the NYM are generally regarded as not being particularly high, so how did Esk Valley FC fit in the necessary climb? Simple answer is climb to a peak, drop off the escarpment to the bottom; and repeat; 7 times in all – bit like a fiddler’s elbow, up and down, up and down, up and down…
120 runners turned up for this event on a bright but breezy spring day. Strict kit requirements to usual FRA standards rightly enforced by the organisers, but everything ranging from vest and shorts to full body cover seen out on the hills, especially once at altitude on the moors and exposed to the full force of the wind.
A handful of Striders, Nina, Danny, Robin and Nigel (Jan and Fiona marshalling) attended along with a few faces from familiar running clubs, 3 NFR and a bucket-load of DFR (it’s on their championship race list); a lot of very young and fit types from Durham University AC; and representatives from Scarborough, York, Swaledale, Thirsk, Pudsey, NYM, Middlesborough, Wharfdale, Pickering, Loftus, Leeds, Vegan, Billingham, Darlington, Beverley, Keswick, Totley, Derwent, Driffield, Harrogate, Marske, Wootton, and a certain Mr Fishwick from Chorley.
The start is a sober affair, everyone conscious of the distance lying ahead and wanting to take it easy, on a steady uphill climb, the longest of the day, to summit Round Hill (highest point of NYM), but tempered by the knowledge that there is a 90min cut-off at the top of Cold Moor (3rd climb and living up to its name today) some 6miles away.
As this is a proper fell race there is no defined route and we are free to decide our own way between checkpoints. Some of the CP locations are obvious; summits of Round Hill/Cold Moor/Falconers Seat/ Cock Howe cairn; others are easily visible from above, Toft Hill Scout Hut/Busby stream crossing/Carlton Bank; but CP 8 tucked away out of sight down in Raisdale offers scope for individual route choice off the established tracks.
I elected to go cross-country at this point, taking DFR Denise through the heather with me, and leaving an NFR man to follow the main track. We hopped and jumped through the heather, scrambled down a gully, picked up a nice runnable surface alongside a boundary wall, plodged through a few boggy bits, and arrived at CP 8 from behind; about 10 paces after NFR guy coming in from opposite direction!
I had more success with route choice earlier on, dropping down towards Clay Bank road crossing where I deviated off the Cleveland Way onto a smooth remnant of quarry track, happily overtaking at least 15 others slowly picking their way down the uneven steps and slabs. And again, taking the direct route down a steep overgrown gully onto Busby Moor put me in front of probably the same set of people who had steadily re-overtaken me since Clay Bank but who ran a zig-zag along the obvious track.
My route choice into Scugdale was no good at all; from memory I thought a right fork in the trail would line me up nicely with the Hall (out of sight over the ridgeline) which it did – but I hadn’t factored in the fenced-off quarry/crags that it led to, so a bit of back-tracking had to be done and this is where Denise (who had chosen left fork) got away from me!
The climb out of Scugdale is the last one on the route but it goes on forever. Steep and only walkable at first, you think you are out on to the ridgeline at last but there is still a steady climb of over 100m or so to the last checkpoint at Cock Howe Cairn 2km further on. Run-walk, run-walk; trying to catch those ahead but we are all doing the same; DFR Denise is in sight but I can’t close the gap. Pretty much exhausted and with leaden legs, we are greeted at CP10 by Fiona cheerily hopping about and running up and down the cairn to keep warm; I’m envious of her energy!
At last the downhill run to the finish begins; normally a time to let go, take advantage of gravity and stride out. Not today, the legs just won’t have it; it’s too steep and so it’s a fight all the way. Some small consolation as I manage to pass a couple of equally weary runners on the way down and elect to take the twisty gully track because it feels easier. Slightly surprised as I emerge onto the lane to see I’ve been caught up by another runner taking the direct route down the field so final effort goes into 100m dash through the mud to hold them off, spurred on by Jan’s audible encouragement! 3hrs 40min and near enough 16 miles. Official results coming later.
Huge thanks to Esk Valley FC led by Mike Quinn for organising this and making it look so easy even though we know how much work goes on behind the scenes and how many contribute marshalling/tea making/cake baking without the chance to run. And with a nod in the direction of Dave Parry, once the main prizes have been distributed it’s a case of ‘well we’ve got some bottles left, so if you can think of a reason come forward and claim one’ – of course we’re all too polite to do that, so Danny wins one for entering the race before it is officially open (Nina too, but she already has her age category winnings) and evidently someone has travelled all the way from Texas to claim their bottle of beer!
I love running and I love mountains but for some reason, I rarely combine the two, so when Paul Evans put a call out for an Elvet Striders team for the ‘British Fell and Hill Relay Championships‘ in the Lakes, it seemed like an opportunity to combine the two. I had put myself forward for the first leg, as I had to be back in Durham for work later in the day. More experienced members of our team helped check I had the right kit to carry around with me, gave me a map and some last minute fell running tips and before I knew it, we were being herded into the starting pen.
Without having considered a race plan, the gun went off and on a spur of the moment decision; I thought it might be fun to ‘blast’ the first field. Zoom, I was off! Head of the pack – Elvet Striders leading the race! But crikey, before I knew it, I had lactic burning like I’d just raced an 800m on the track. Then we started going up – I’ve never run on anything like it; about 3 miles up – getting steeper all the way. The everlasting incline was no place to be trying to clear the lactic acid, my heart and lungs were on fire. This was not running, as I know it; folks were pulling themselves up the mountain on tufts of grass, or rocks – whatever you could grasp. As the race got higher we entered the clouds and visibility was very poor – I was just trying to keep someone close by as I hadn’t really entertained trying to navigate too, but at some point, I reached the summit and then we were heading down.
Through reading, and some of Geoff’s off-road sessions, I know the theory of running downhill (switch off brain, lean forward, don’t brake) but can I put it into practice? – err, no! The whole way down the mountain, despite trying to relax, I was clearly thinking too much and leaning back and braking – my quads were taking such a hammering (5 days after the race, writing this, I still can’t walk properly) but it certainly was exhilarating. After 3 miles of heart and lung burning going up, this was 2 miles of slipping and sliding my way down.
Back to the starting field after handing over to Jack and Fiona, I managed a brief catch up with the rest of the team and used my token for some hot food and drink before heading home. I had a great day – I love the variety of running, but I always seem to enjoy the day more when it’s a team event or relay, it really brings you together.
Leg 2, Jack Lee and Fiona Brannan, paired, 6,7 miles, 2800 ft
Jack: “So that’s what you call dibbing!”
I have never understood fair weather running. Heat makes me overheat while I find a drizzly, windy and generally just a bit crap day brings out my best. I was probably at close to my best at the relays and still I had no chance of keeping up with Fiona on the downs. (Fiona: I’m not a great fan of the ‘up’ part, but I really, really like the ‘down’…)
Our leg of the relays started with some shouts that Mark had been spotted and a fast run away from the line, only to be quickly assaulted by the fells. Usually, the ascent tires me out but today I just plodded on surprised by how easy it was going. (Fiona: it’s true, I’m not much good at ‘up’) Leg 2 started with the ascent of Great Rigg and then Fairfield from Grasmere, and after that it becomes a bit of a blur.
Fiona and I spent 50 minutes trudging up Fairfield with the occasional jog on the flatter section; it was a bit damp but the effort kept us warm, however, when we got to the top the cold wind cut through my clothing. You could get cold very fast if you stayed still but fortunately after a slower start Fiona had found her legs (Fiona: have I mentioned I don’t like the ‘up’ parts?!) and it was all I could do to keep up with her. The next half an hour was one of the most frenetic (Fiona: I think he means fun and exciting!) of my life. I leapt over rocky escarpments, slid down bog on my backside and waded streams all at a frenzied pace just to keep up. I have never descended so fast and was pushing my limits; quite a few times I placed my foot on muddy paths of steep slopes for my footing to go. I was, after all, in a pair of borrowed shoes, as I had forgotten mine. I owe Nigel my eternal thanks and a beer sometime for the loan of shoes. (Fiona; our split times on this section are somewhat more impressive than the ascent, and we managed to gain around 30 places here so must have been doing something right!)
Eventually, as must happen, the slope became shallower but this just encouraged Fiona to up the pace, so I dug deep and used all the pace I had left just to keep up and after a treacherous descent over the final muddy field (onlookers hoping for exciting slips and falls!) we sprinted in just ahead of fell running legend Angela Mudge and her partner from Carnethy. We tagged Paul and Geoff and our job was done.
Leg 3; Geoff Davis and Paul Evans; paired ca. 6-7 miles, 3000 ft, navigation leg
Having done the fell relays a couple of times before, both times leg 2, 2018 saw me decide to push out of my comfort zone a little and take on leg 3 with the guiding hand of the veteran Geoff D to keep me right and deflect my natural inclination to take route alpha at all opportunities; essentially, I was there to push the pace and to learn, he there to ensure sanity and to guide me in the subtle art of efficient hill running. This played out as follows on a leg of 7 miles and c3000 feet:
Start – CP1: fast start along a lane away from the event field, having been tagged by Fiona and Jack. Easy running on tarmac, then sharp bend upwards to a pair of marshals who hand us our maps of the control locations. A quick glance at the map and it becomes apparent that Geoff’s talents will be of use, as my urges are to go up and over, whilst he takes us nicely up the side of a fast-flowing beck, twisting up the valley over slippery rocks and through bracken to arrive at a stream junction and CP1, other teams arriving and departing rapidly.
CP1-2: the fun starts here, as we exit northeast, traversing up a hill into the low cloud. We follow a sheep trod, and other teams also, then it all becomes very puzzling as we arrive at a tarn that isn’t on the map, but with a saddle that definitely is. We know we’re somewhere around Heron Pike and then, Eureka! Unsurprisingly, the only such body of water on the map is, we realise, where we must be even if we’d been further up the hill, as we’d assumed, and therefore closer to our destination. We lose a good few minutes pondering this, though it turns out, race leaders Keswick lose even more (and, in the process, the overall race). Upwards, over the ridge, downwards, aiming for another stream junction with a sheepfold beyond; I suggest we simply follow the stream to our left and make up for my error with the tarn to an extent by this proving correct, albeit with an element of luck. Dibbed, and done.
CP2-3: easy – take a bearing and follow it, climb gently, descend gently onto a Land-Rover track and the next control, with marshals huddled in a tent.
CP3-4-5-end: easy navigation, but straight up and over, a long line of ant-like figures ascending into the heavens/cloud above us. This gets chilly, and I push the pace fairly hard as we use all limbs to get us up to the very runnable ridgeline, where we make up a few places before contouring around a valley head and then dropping sharply through endless greasy bracken, broken earth and unseen rocks. There are now teams to our left and right, some of them last seen on the climb, some not seen previously. We hit the stream, cross it and then have a choice – up and over or veer round to our left then back right again, adding 300m but taking out the climb. Geoff prefers the latter, so we do it and meet at the next control the teams who entered the water with us: no advantage either way until we then race them downhill on a firm track and realise we have more in our legs, taking out 4-5 further teams. By now the back of the leg is broken and we’re heading home, a little climb taken with aggression and then the final run-in down churned, slippery tracks, CP5 hit, then fields, control on the descent limited and Geoff slipping ahead as I’m just rubbish on this terrain. We re-enter the final field and Geoff’s driving hard and not looking back, knowing I’ll go all-in to catch him again, which I do before we hit the line and tag Nigel. Job done, baton not lost, lessons in the art of navigation on the move gained. Here goes Nigel…
Leg 4; Nigel Heppell, solo, 4.3 miles, 2000 ft
Leg 4 – known as the ‘glory’ leg; also suitable for 16yr olds – I’m well
Standing for several hours in a field on a wet Lakes day while legs 1,2
and 3 take place, I try to keep as much clothing on as possible before
getting down to race kit and entering the holding pen in what I think
should be a reasonably short time before Geoff and Paul appear for the
handover at the end of their navigation leg. Such is the calibre of the
superstars of the fell running world that the loudspeakers let us all
know the relay has actually been won before half the field even set off
on the last leg and there is a 5min call for the mass start. Peering
into the distant murk, I spot the unmistakable gait of an HH top leading
Paul down the final slope and into the funnel and then it’s my turn to go
off up the lane with a grateful lead on the pack behind.
The official route description says it all; narrow lane; cross beck;
path up to tarn; big zig- zags on climb; scenic dash
around tarn; cross wall; stiff ascent of Heron Pike; nothing to see now
as we enter the cloud base shrouding the tops; onto Fairfield Horseshoe
race line; contour below summit of Great Rigg; speedy contouring descent
onto summit of Stone Arthur; exit cloud cover; hair-raising descent down
leg 2 ascent path; and back into the event field.
On the climb up I very soon hear the sounds of the pack gaining
on me; one or two lanky types begin to lope past; then a whole bundle go
through – I guess the fitter club runners who were held back by the late
arrival of their leg3 runners – then I seem to hold my position; ascent
of Heron Pike is just plain hard work; a bit chastened to be steadily
overtaken by what appears to be a classrooms-worth of school children
but then things level off and we get running again. A few of us trade
places once or twice along the contour and then the fun starts as
gravity kicks in. It always amazes me how timid some become on a descent
over rough ground and now it’s my turn to overtake; beyond Stone Arthur
the slope increases dramatically and keeping a foothold is marginal at
best; no way of slowing down without a fall so go for it, trying not to
wipe out runners caught in front; through hole in wall and into final
descent of event field; others say this is really steep and slippery but
it feels quite relaxed after what went before and I again have to expend
energy running into the finish.
For the road runners amongst you, I ran this at a pace of 15min/mile –
For the fell runners, my rate of ascent was a lowly, but fairly steady
60’/min; and my rate of descent was largely 200-220’/min.
[Footnote – The photograph of Jack and Fiona was generously provided by Beau Dog Photography. There is no oblligation but if you would like to make a donation to the Phabkids then please follow the link and give from as little as £2. Thank you https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Lee-and-Sarah ]
Weather windy but warm for the time of year and traffic pleasantly light throughout the journey.
Illness removed one rider from the start line, wisely avoiding the perils of sneezing inside a full-face crash helmet, but numbers were maintained with the welcome addition of pillion Lynn.
Four bikes (800; 900; 1000; 1100cc, and 74years old in total), four riders, and one pillion(total age – don’t ask) set off from the Rose Tree Inn, Shincliffe at 10am and travelled down to Kirkleatham Hall, our chosen start and finish checkpoint on the Boundary 500 Classic Challenge circuit. Potential navigational issues for the day were flagged up when we struggled even to find the entrance to the café!
Having decided upon an anti-clockwise circuit our first checkpoint came after a long haul to the location halfway between Leyburn and Masham; unfortunately we added a 20 mile detour through Aysgarth before getting there. A short hop on to the second checkpoint at Masham with lunch at the brewery visitor’s centre.
Back across the Vale of Mowbray to Osmotherley and a delightful road up onto and across the moors towards Helmsley; enlivened by two Hercules transport planes flying up the valley on our right and overtaking us on the same level, if not lower!
Not much route choice from there onwards but we (ok, I) still managed to miss the turning for Rosedale Abbey out of Hutton-Le-Hole which meant we had to reverse our intended direction of travel through the last three checkpoints along the Esk valley. The consequence of this was yet more extra miles but with views of some stunningly illuminated moorland scenery as the sun lowered towards the horizon but eventually with the added hazard of driving straight into the sun as we turned onto the Whitby-Guisborough road to take us back to our start point.
Finish time – 1830 hours.
Kirkleatham Hall, TS10 5NW
34 miles from Durham
Brymor Ice Cream Parlour, HG4 4PG
Masham, HG4 4EF
Osmotherley, DL6 3BN
Beadlam Grange Farm Shop, YO62 7TD
Hutton-le-Hole, YO62 6UA
Castleton Market Place, YO21 2EG
Danby Visitors Centre Car Park, YO21 2NB
Lealholm, YO21 2AJ
Kirkleatham Hall, TS10 5NW
161miles for the Classic Challenge
230miles return from Durham
248miles Chester-le-St/Washington return
Many thanks to those taking a day out of the working week and all for a fine example of sustained careful and considerate riding.
This is a weekday evening social run organised by local club Derwentside AC in memory of John Donneky.
The weather was brilliantly clear and warm for the run; views for absolute miles from the tops.
It was a bit of a pull to begin with, straight up the Boltslaw incline, 600ft climb in just over 1 mile, but this meant the pack naturally split into 3 pace groups with one leader each, 8-10 runners per group.
I thought I’d not been up Bolt’s Law before but part way round I recognised a tree, the only tree for miles, that I had seen one winter on a social run from Colin Blackburn’s house. It stuck in my mind because it was fully decorated with Christmas baubles, etc –
Rumour has it that Colin revisited the tree and left some anonymous mince pies for the undressing on 12th Night.
Evidently, we ran 7.8miles and came back to Rookhope Village Hall where there was a good spread of savouries and cakes, tea coffee, etc.
A brief mention of John Donneky and acknowledgement from his widow; evidently he used to enjoy taking road runners up onto the fells for ‘strengthening’ sessions; and an invitation to do it all again next year.
On holiday in the Scottish Borders? Looking for a Sunday run? Something simple to raise funds for the local play park? Never visited the Three Bretheren before? The 8th Philiphaugh Hill Run looked just right at 7 miles and 400m ascent.
A mixed bag of 62 runners competed over a nice traily route over two hilltops with stunning views; no kit required -‘its a summer run’.
I manage a very mediocre 1hr 07mins putting me 5th in the V60 category.
The official results table shows my time as 140% of the winners’ time which sounds pretty poor to me;
The winner is no spring chicken either, he’s a V50; but I then notice he is Colin Donnelly of Cambuslang Harriers – one time youngest winner of the Ben Nevis Race (1979) and Scotland’s representative at the World Hill Running Championships for 14 years in a row, winning silver in 1989; winner of the British Fell Running Championship 1987-89; and numerous top performances in Scottish Cross Country racing; he retains the record for traversing the Welsh 3000’s and has course records for the Buckden Pike and Shelf Moor races …
Mike B and me got up v.early on Sunday 7th July and travelled cross-country to the South Lakes to take part in the second running of the Hoad Hill Half Marathon.
We chose this race partly because we had never heard of it before, it was held in a part of the Lakes seldom visited by tourist hordes; the alternative ‘Cross Bay Challenge’ looked too flat (with a chance of drowning); and a relative living nearby could be visited; also the course profile; 6miles lumpy up and down, 6miles totally flat, followed by a killer climb and descent in the last mile seemed like a challenge too good to refuse; and my last official half-marathon race was the GNR in 1995!
Starting and finishing in Ford Park, Ulverston, a full marathon set off 30mins before the Half was led through town by guides to negotiate the central streets, a few back lanes, and some civil engineering works before being let loose on the Cumbrian Way; a nice gentle start as the track was too narrow to do anything but follow the runner in front, and then there was the kissing gate! one runner at a time certainly stretched the field out (next year oil the hinges please). After that came a series of lanes and fields interspersed with tracks across and around fields, gradually reaching out onto bracken and rock covered hillsides with glimpses over the estuary before the headland revealed the full glory and extensive views of Morecambe Bay at low tide.
No sign of the ‘Cross-Bayers’ today as it was so windy the sands had shifted and their start was relocated to Silverdale just out of sight behind the Cartmel penninsula. The strength of the wind also defeated the organisers of the Hoad Hill races who had to abandon plans for entertainment and refreshment marquees in the park.
Nice views over Bardsea village before we dropped down a steep rock-strewn lane to the coast, through the garden of someone’s Stately Home and turning north along the coastal path; sometimes on hard track; sometimes on soft sand; other-times large rounded pebbles; several miles of playing cat and mouse with other runner’s strengths and weaknesses; some like uphill; some like downhill; I was comprehensively thrashed by a lady from Dunstable (just visiting, she said) who clearly liked the flat terrain along the coast and then disappeared into the distance once we got to the canal just after the sponsor (GlaxoSmithKline)’s factory. The Canal; completely flat, completely straight; how can a distance just over 1 mile seem like it takes forever?
A few twists and turns on country lanes, crossing the main A590 road under Police guidance, and enter the park to climb the switchback path towards the Sir John Barrow monument on Hoad Hill. Pass by one casualty of exhaustion/dehydration/overexertion laid out beside the path but efficiently attended by concerned runners and marshalls, all in radio contact with Race Organisers/Emergency Services and reading details off the back of her race number (did we all fill that in before starting the race?). Onwards and upwards becomes a test of resolve to see who would break into a walk last of all; I give in early to temptation, but can walk as fast as most around me can run so no big deal there apart from young ‘Ben’ who has a fan-club waiting at the top of the hill and is compelled to overtake. Pass by another handful of runners laid out around the base of the monument with cramp, some in tears, some having their legs pulled (literally) by sympathetic marshalls; I catch up and get past Ben on the downhill stretch but the sprint (ha!) finish into the long funnel back into the park brings on cramp for me and Ben has it in the bag.
Not the cheapest run I’ve ever entered, but well organised, well marked, loads of bananas, and a nice introduction to places I would never otherwise have seen (campervan owners can contact me about an interesting wildcamping location spotted on this run).
Oh! and the T-shirt?; you’ll see me and Mike coming from a long, long, way away!