Mount Famine 2013

The Three Days in May Fell Race series kicked off yesterday with The May Queen. Last year I got my best result of all time- 5th. This year I missed it.
There was no way I was going to miss Mount Famine though. 8 and a bit km, nigh on 600 metres of ascent (brutal ascents they are too), and weather that never really promised to be much more than a bit damp and windy means that it is far too much fun to contemplate sitting at home revising.

Having done it for the past 2 years I know the course, which, in a nutshell does this:
Brutal up. Up. flatish up. Down. Hard up. Up. Up. along - but trending up. Really Up. Down. Up. Hard up. Up. Horrible Up. Down. Down. Down. Along. Up (forever, and ever and ever until you want your legs to give way) Along, but feels like its trending up. Down. Hard down. Hard along. Finish.

So basically its pretty much all up. Though it ends at the same level as you start. Actually, just a bit lower.

Surely the best and craziest start of them all. 

But it feels like it should end on top of a hill.
Lynne and I arrived early, so that she could help with the registration, and I helped drink tea and chat. As it was a Glossopdale race a fair few of the club were out and about, so it was a nice social occasion.

But not for too long.
We wandered across to the start, and stood around looking at the first climb up Elle Bank for a while. I took the opportunity to make my way up the ridiculous incline to work out where the path was at the top, so that I didn't start out too far along the path from it, working out a plan to get there as fast as possible.
We eventually started, with the starters orders being as low key as normal.
"right guys, uh. 3,2,1,go"
And we started thrashing our way up the hill. A Buxton guy threw himself past me just at the bottom, but I

Off goes Simon Bailey- top right

kept my line and started hacking up the hill as fast as I could. The next thing I knew I was at the top of the hill with only Simon Bailey and one other in front of me. Oh. Oh dear. I think I may have slightly over cooked this....
Then Mark Ollerenshaw came piling past and much the same thought flashed through my mind again.

Oh well, Ive always wondered what it would be like to go out hard and then see if I can hang on. I suppose this is as good a race as any to do it on.
A couple more people passed me on the next part, but I held on during the short descent.
Going up to Mount Famine Alastair was the first of several to go past, with me thinking "oh dear - I'm just going to to backward now".
It's that point in the race where the lungs are hurting, your legs feel slow, people are passing you and you think. "you know. I don't *actually* enjoy this".
Dan Chan, on his charge back to fitness overtook me, and all I could think was that I couldn't let another Pennine vest past me, as I was 3rd Glossop, and that would mean giving away the team prize.

We Ran across the Dragons back, and I gained a couple of places back, overtaking a Buxton runner and

Great picture taken by Nev

Alastair again just at the top of the hill.
Somewhere along the way was Nev, shouting wildly at us and encouraging us with great enthusiasm. No idea where it was, I was far too knackered to work that out.
Off the hill and a Cheshire Hill runner cruised past. Effortlessly taking another 20 metres in front of me, and catching up with Dan and a couple of others. Nothing else to do but head down, last climb, for the moment, before the massive down into Dimpus Clough, where I was planning on really motoring and trying to claw back some time.

On the way down, I found myself a little sidetracked, looking over to the left to see if Simon Bailey was already climbing up out of the clough, but after nearly falling a couple of times, and realising my pursuit wasn't going quite as well as I hoped, it was eyes down and concentrate on the hill all the way down.

Until the bottom. I'd just about caught up with the next 4 in front of me, who had all overtaken me just after the first climb. I don't have a great record on the ascent out of Dimpus Clough, having haemorraged places in both previous editions of the race, so I started the ascent with a little trepidation, stomping my way up the hill, and as soon as it got a little "flatter", or maybe I should say "less wall like" I ran a good few steps to try and gain some time, and, if possible, places.
Up and up, I managed to take 3 places, but a Buxton runner was right in front of me at the top, and the Cheshire runner was a good few lengths in front of him. A fight was on, and a few kilometres still stood between us and the end.

The end

How LONG does the dragons back go on for?! I managed to descent off the lump faster than the Buxton runner, and now with him breathing down your neck, the continuation to the end seemed to go on forever. Nev was there, braving the rather unattractive weather, shouting encouragement and taking photos at the point just before the final up before the final down, and I was being pressed hard.

Across the top, I thought it would be interesting to see what a couple of short accelerations might do, especially down the slight dips in the undulations. The only thing I could gauge it from was how much I could hear his breathing. My mind was completely focussed on not being overtaken.
Then I changed my mind. I looked at the Cheshire runner, an unfeasibley long way ahead, and instead of running FROM the guy just behind me, I started to chase the other one down.
Step by step, down and down, we continued. He was right behind me even to the steep path off the hill and onto the final track, and all of a sudden, he wasn't there and I was gaining on the Cheshire runner.

No. Surely not.

Yes. I'm wearing arm warmers and gloves, I didn't fall in a bog. 

I slowly gained until about 500metres before the finish where I drew along side, lengthened my stride a little, which he matched. Oh. He's playing with me. Do I want to be the one congratulating him for pulling away and beating me? No.
Slacken off, and go again, and this time he fell behind.
I have to keep going now, and managed to hold on right to the end, gasping, choking, coughing and spluttering. I rocked in 5th.
49:28. Sub 50, which was the main aim for today, and only a place behind Mark O. (a couple of minutes behind, admittedly, but still, just one place). Now *thats* the good feeling I was looking for during the race.
Alastair came in as first V40, Caity came in 2nd Female, and Lindsay got 1st V40 female.
Despite our best efforts, Pennine got the team prizes! Well done guys.

Alison and the Glossopdale cake box. mmm. Thanks Alison 

Slightly recovered

And Alison brought out some amazingly tasty ginger and chocolate brownie cake. Definitely worth a mention!

So. Happy with that. Training seems to be going well, and the next race is Old County Tops. Long and slow, not really one to race, but rather, just to survive. Can't wait.

Well done, as ever to Simon Bailey. First by miles. Just out of interest, does anyone actually know what he does for training? My theory is that as a sheep farmer, he doesn't have a sheep dog and just rounds them up, one by one, on foot - thus training through work. This hasn't been substantiated, of course.... but I was just
wondering.....

Something I don't see often, but am really quite proud of. 

Another long one

I've been putting in the long miles on recent weekends, and this one was no exception.
It started out, in the greatest of traditions with a good strong coffee, which was swiftly followed by Lynne calling out - "have you seen the hills?"

I wandered back upstairs, and yes, there was a smattering of snow up there. Ah well, all the more fun then. There was meant to be an occluded front making its way across the country at some point, so thats probably what did it. Excellent.

The vague plan was to follow the 4 Dark Peak County tops route for a while, maybe do all four of them, or maybe just do 2, and then run back along the High Peak marathon route to Glossop. No idea how long it would be, just a nice day out. I was joined for a short time by a couple of other Glossopdalers, who for various reasons turned back for home at various points of the run.
I thought that I could cut the whole thing short, but really, that would be a bit rubbish. If I've said I'm going to do it, then I might as well get it done.

We ran from Glossop up to Kinder, and hit the top from a devious route up Redbrook, which I had never done before. It was snowing lightly at this point, and there was a smattering of snow on the ground from about 550m. Quite breezy too. Coming back across the plateau, we strode out down Fairbrook, and then up through some trees to the Snake.
I did some sneaky manoeuvring to get up into the beginning of Oyster clough, wondering if I should go right the the end, then across to Alport, or if I should just go down, straight up, and then down into Alport.
Looking at the ascent, the latter won out, and I went up a fabulous climb, and then quite an adventurous down through some very overgrown woodland into the Alport.

On my way down I saw a group of walkers on top of the Alport and wondered if I'd catch them up. I carried my speed (well, not really speed, but you know what I mean) up the hill, and lo and behold, they hadn't moved at all. Along the top, and then straight down Fagny clough, around the reservoir, and then the hail hit me.

Just a little at first, not really enough to warrant a waterproof, and then it became more incessant. Waterproof on.
I had vaguely committed the route to memory, but didn't have a map (yes, I know the area, yes, I had a GPS watch in case I needed to give a 10fig grid ref), I was really just out for the joy of a long day without any real worry about where I ended up as long as I could get home.
So I took the turning I thought was the right one, made my way up Howden clough, and after a fair amount of climbing, and another hail storm, I came out on top in pretty much the right place- High Stone, and the view was magnificent.

This was the view that you want to be able to see on the High Peak Marathon, but can't.

I then set out on the slog across the bog tops to Outer Edge, Swains Head and up to Bleaklow stones. Hail storm, followed by snow flakes followed by more hail, all with a driving rain. I kept my pace so that I wasn't entirely walking all the time, but I certainly wouldn't say I was being fast in any way shape or form.

From Bleaklow stones I took a Southern line back across the top and then finally turned down the hill back into Glossop- and the sun finally came out, forcing me to take off my waterproof for the first time since being
in the Derwent Valley.

53km, 1858m ascent, in 6 and a half hours. I wasn't as tired at the end of this one, as I was after the 50km 2 weeks ago, not sure if that is because of better management of food, or that I'm vaguely getting used to longer stuff.
So I chased with a 60km bike ride today.
I'm pretty smoked now.

Herod farm fell race 2013

This is a really close race to my heart. It is organised by my club Glossopdale harriers (ably coordinated by Sue Clapham this year) and was the first fell race that I entered when I arrived in the Peak District 2 years

ago. This was my third year of running it.

Sometimes described as a brutal "sharpener" for the midweek racing season, simply mentioning that it is only 5k long doesn't do it justice, even taking into account the 320 odd metres of ascent. And, indeed, descent.

There were some big names out in force for this little race. Stuart Bond, always ready to have a bash at Lloyds record, Jack Ross, Tom Brunt, a load of macc harriers, not to mention the Pennine lot, led out by steviek.

Don't you love a race profile that looks like this....

I've been doing a lot of long distance stuff recently, having realised that the Old County Tops is not all that far away and my partner is a bit more long distance trained at the moment. Having done no speed work and certainly no specific hillwork, I thought my short, sharp speed for a race such as this would be severely diminished. Maybe mid pack would be about a good place to get. Probably sub 30, but not near my last years time of 28:59, especially considering a 50k epic on Saturday,  chased with a 60k bike ride into a somewhat unbelievable headwind on sunday. 

However. The plan was to go hard for as long as possible, and then just try and hold on and see what happened.

Sue's pre-match talk was short but sweet, and she soon had us on our way. I started out near enough the front to see Stuart spring off up the road, opening out 10 metres of lead before 30 seconds had elapsed. So much for me going as hard as possible. That was just unbelievable.

On the way down, chasing StevieK

Within seconds I was engulfed by a number of other runners, eager to get a fast start. Carl came past me on my right, and then, there was John Hewitt next to me, with John Doyle ahead. I lost out to him on the second climb last year, and by the look of things I was already losing out today.

At that point I just shut down everything in terms of peripheral thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand.

Up past Herod farm,  there was a new section which we ascended, and I made up a fair few places there, goaded on by Andy O. Counting steps, I managed to keep up some semblance of a run to where Rod was offering similar encouragement. I nearly fell into the trap of falling in behind another runner, being dictated by their pace,  but was able to keep the presence of mind and body to keep grinding it out up the hill.

Me, with the pack behind me

I traded places with a few runners, alternately running then walking, and managed to come out at the bomb holes in front of most of those who had overtaken me at the beginning and chased down a couple more along the track and edged in front of a Darkpeaker at the stile before the haul to the first high point and the dash downhill.

Through the miasma of sweat and fatigue I realised that steviek was only 2 places in front of me. He must be having a slow day, and as it was I had my hands full keeping ahead of the baying pack behind me.

I gained time on them in the plunge down the hill. 

Well, I think I did. I never looked behind, so actually, I could be making stuff up.

Down to the turning and stevie and a macc harrier are about 30m ahead. Knowing the hill that is coming I briefly entertained the idea of slowing down to gain my breath.

And heard someone behind me.
Full gas then.

Making good my escape up the final climb

Through the tree bower that precedes the final climb and I wonder just how much is in the tank. Can I hold the place to the top?
Run till you can't run any more,  keep running until you legs scream. A brief respite and carry on.
The guy behind me sounds like his throat is being dragged out of his body on every breath.
The gate. I still haven't been caught, though I don't know how close they are.

Final ascent of the second climb and I decided that anyone who sounds like the are at deaths door is *not* going to beat me today.

Final Climb

Over the top. Legs filled with lead, lungs on fire, veins pumping  battery acid I plunge down the hill, with Neil Shuttleworths words ringing in my ear.
"Give it some, lad" 

I gave it some. 

Tore down the hill, thrashed through the heather and hammered down the track. No-one was taking this place from me. Approaching the end I could hear no footsteps behind me. Ease up now? What if I'm close to my time from last year? How annoying would it be to miss out on a better time?

No-one to race but myself, I threw it all down in the last 400 metres.
28:30. A minute and a half faster than last years time and just one place behind steviek.
Excellent. A lot better than I was expecting. Overall, 9th. Thats the first time I've been top ten in this race.
Happy with that.

Thats what effort might look like. 

Thanks to Paul Stitt, Gordon Cooper and Tom Skelton for the photos which I blatently ripped out of facebook and flikr. If you want them taken down, drop me a line.