Sunday 17 March 2024

Flower Scar- English Champs AM 2024

 Well, it's been a while since I lined up on an English champs start line. Yes, there is a reason, no, it is not necessarily of my own volition. There is some small chance of a team placing in the MV40 throughout the year, and so I am very much doing my part in that. This is not to say that race shape is anywhere near, though that will probably become a little more clear in a moment. 

Chris and I recced the route, up by Todmoden, a couple of months ago. It looked to be a pretty fierce little race with some spicey uphills and some very slippy slidy downhills. As is ever the case with A Medium events, the pace was going to be high, and thus some speed training was going to be in order. 

Let's just say that didn't exactly happen for one reason or another. Essentially, whenever I tried to pick up the tempo in training, something didn't quite work. Tendonitis happened, various other things occured, with the upshot being that any semblence of running form and consistency that had been built up over the winter just kind of faded away into the past. Not good. Especially when 3 weeks ago the tendinitis flared, and 7 days ago a calf just decided that it wasn't going to play ball and I limped home after not even 3k of what was going to be a bit of a decent bash around the old stomping ground of the IOW. 

Halfway through the week, I still hadn't run and was a little unsure if the race was even going to happen for me. Rest- complete rest, seemed to be the only correct option. A short (5 mins) on a treadmill on Thursday showed that there was still some level of ability beyond just walking (even if only for 800m) and so it was that Stefan picked me up absurdly early on Saturday.

It was beautifully clear, and we got a parking space very close to race registration due to being 3 hours early, and then sloped off into Tod for a coffee. A very pleasant way to start the morning. Time passed and eventually we got ready for the mudfest to come. 

The initial climb is almost single track- it's kind of slightly wider than that with a small amount of opportunity for overtaking, but the ground is very very churned up and slippy, so you need a lot of energy to get past people. In order to spread us out before that, there was a thunderous lap around the field in what was basically XC conditions. It was very evident that a lot of people have been doing XC over the winter and have come into the season in very good form. Me? Not so much. I appear to have regressed to a single speed where anything above that results in a serious rev limiter that just brings me down again. 

To be honest, today I wasn't too worried about that. What with the recent calf troubles, the main aim of the day was to get around without anything falling off or breaking, so I trundled around the field- spattered with mud before even getting onto anything resembling a hill, and then- the first up of the day. 

If you've read ANY of my race stuff previously in the last decade or so, you'll notice a theme. "I must get better at up hills". It would seem that speed on an incline is not really a strength of mine... and so it proves everytime I line up for a race. Up through the mud of the first hill I was there or thereabouts, but as soon as it became runnable, a number of runners went past. I gained a few on the next section around the double track and then lost a few on the subsequent up. 

Across the stubby grassland I was able to settle into a bit more of a running rhythm, and then down over and across to the climb to Flower Scar, I was astonished to find myself just behing Nic Barber. Ah well, I guess we're both getting old(?!) or slow... or, whatever... A slow climb and a dib at the top, and then down to check 2- a decently runnable section where in previous years I'd have been going hell for leather. Not today thanks, I need my legs for later. 

Through the mud at CP2, and a long semi-runnable climb back up towards the turbines and the access road. This one the one time in the race that I felt pretty decent. Rough, chossy ground on a runnable incline that everyone else seemed to hate. My heartrate stayed at a copable level and I gained time on a few people. Then, hitting the top, onto the access road, hard ground... boom. Off they all went again. It seems that flat, hard roads are not my thing either. Damn it. Across and over to the turbine and then a fantastic semi-downhill section through horrendous chossy bog and mud. Glorious- I took back the time just lost on the road, and came out of that section ahead of the group that I had entered it behind. Dibbed at check 3, and then... downhill on hard ground. Off they all went again. 

It was a long enough section to be annoying before it dropped to the right into a veritable obstacle course of general detritus- I jumped over a ladder at one point (on it's side... c'mon, I'm not that tall), someone else got spiked by something. It was old workings of some kind- then a run around a pretty slippy quarry type section and then CP4 and into the trees. 

Slop. Just lots of slop- as you can imagine. Managed to hold my own as it was generally pretty grim hard work through it, and then out onto solid road again. Although it was downhill, my legs were starting to remind me that I really haven't run this hard for this amount of time in *quite* some time and are not really all that happy with me. On the up side, neither of my calves were giving me any gyp. 

Down the hard pack, trying not to get tripped up by any of the general debris and potholes down it, over a stile and hard right to slide down a bank, over a stream, and then a hard steep slope to get to CP5 and a short road section- where my legs, again, were very much saying... really? Is this what we're doing now? Because we're pretty tired, to be honest....

Up into another quarryworks, and a steep climb to the top, along through more mud and then a slidy, muddy, fast downhill- dodgy underfoot in places, another area where I seemed to gain time on a number of people, before dibbing at the bottom and IMMEDIATELY losing all places gained as we trudged up through what can only be described as a "field", but is more accurately described as "ankle to knee deep horse churned agricultural area". Ahead, you could see a line of people going up the steep sided valley. Only 2 miles or so to go, and this was the last uphill. But knowing that if I tried to increase pace or overclock it, I'd end up at the top of the hill, totally spent with nothing left to give even on the descent- I kept within tolerances, run/walking up the hill. Didn't lose too many places, and kept those who did pass me in sight. 

Once at the top, it was a case of a short section of across the hill, and then downhill all the way. We'd done all this on the way up, so everyone knew the terrain. Muddy, squelchy, unstable underfoot, loamy through the trees and generally great with the right shoes. I let go a bit on the way down- but no where near as much as I would have done in the past and gained back a few places. There were, of course, some who came past me- but on the final really slippy bit at the bottom of the hill, I gained them back, and held onto the final sprint at the end. 

100th overall, 10th v40. I'm pretty happy with that- but even more happy that my right calf seems to be absolutely fine after last weeks worry, and the left achilles... well, it aches a bit this morning, but nothing totally out of the ordinary. 

Lovely little race. Very muddy. Basically a cross between a fell race and Cross country. 

Personally- I felt like I was stuck in third gear for the entirety of the race. Not looking forward to the AS's as they tend to need an extra EXTRA gear coz they're so short. MAYBE I might have some extra something for the AL's? I don't know, we'll see. 

Yeah- no pictures again. I must be getting camera shy in my old age. 

you can have a look at my Strava though....


Thursday 28 December 2023

Jim's Yo Ho O. 2023

 At the end of December there is a bit of a get together and a semi-unofficial orienteering event put on by the Pennine FR legend that is Jim. I did it a few years ago, but for the last couple of years have been otherwise indisposed on the day of the fun- normally driving back from the Isle of Wight or some such. This year, I was in Glossop and the weather looked... tasty. The tail end of Storm Gerrit was still mooching across the moors with wind gusting from Force 4 to about 7 or 8, and the promise of significant amounts of precipitation. Not so cold as to be *fun* precipitation, but just the right temperature to be *grim*.


Absolutely shorts weather then. 

The course is set out like a standard Orienteering map, with checkpoints and corresponding points, though this year, in tribute to a sadly departed stalwart of Pennine (and MDOC)- John Williams, 5 of the checkpoints weren't on the map. Oh no. You had to get to one of the checkpoints (numbers 1-5), where a small map was attached to the flag for the OTHER checkpoint, that was within 750 metres of your current location.... double trouble checkpoint action! Sounds fun? Absolutely. And with a 4 hour cut off, there really is time to run yourself ragged over some pretty gnarly terrain. 

Starting from Little Hayfield I took the option to go anti-clockwise, heading to Check1 at the bottom of Sandy Heys, wondering if I would have to double back on myself for the "bonus" checkpoint. Easy running along footpaths and bridleways giving me time to think about onward planning, got me to checkpoint 1 relatively easily. 

The paired check was further to the east, so that meant that a potential climb up Sandy Heys to Check3 was disregarded in favour of the direct climb to check 4 (which had more points) at the trig point. 


This was a slow leg and I think I've found some very good ground for practicing hill climbs on pretty tough gound! Despite the forecast, it was very clear at this point, and the wind was from the south west, which definitely freshened as you got to the top. The trig was easy to find, and the paired check was down on the fence line halfway up Upper Redbrook. However- there was another checkpoint further to the east up the grough line from Nether Redbrook. 

Being an idiot, I decided to kind of try to straight line it, despite the fact that I didn't have a compass out, didn't have anything to aim for, and was going off pure "I reckon it's that way". As I got further and further into it, I recognised that the other side of the coin that was previously disregarded- going to the Northern Edge Path, run along that to Nether Red and then go up the clough- was probably a better idea. So I kind of dropped a bit north until I got close to the path, spied the grough line, dropped into it and then followed it to the Control. 

Could have been a lot slicker with that one- might have lost 5mins or so with the faffage. 

Previously the idea as to whether to drop from there to the Footbridge at 15, or go to the Sabres at 11 was the question... with a paired checkpoint at Upper Redbrook, it was a no-brainer. To Upper RedBrook, the Sabres, then down the Ashop to 15. 

Easy pickings now, as the weather stayed clear. Along the Northern Edge and a significant drop down the brook to the stile. Pick out the Sabres in the distance and pick a trod to run along to get to the wreckage. By the flag there was a little box with a prize for those who got to this checkpoint, which was well received, and then about turn and down to the Ashop and a jog along the track to the hut ruin and Foot bridge- which is always futher than you think. 

The obvious next place was check 19, up Red Clough- on the map it seems pretty obvious where you should be going. The grough lines look huge. They are indeed deep- but they are not very obvious. It was here that I was starting to second guess myself and ended up wandering around for a while cursing the geography and my inability to find a stream junction. I probably lost a good 5-10 mins here with the faffage, but eventually got the flag after casting around for a fairly specific grough that should have been obvious, and following it. Got it- and then ... well- there's a 60 pointer to the North. It'd be rude not to go for that. 

So I've been going for an hour and a half, all good. I've eaten something, am jogging uphill and over Featherbed Moss, all is good. A couple of alterations of course to make sure I'm getting to the right place (and a change of gloves from Warm mitts to Waterproof mitts), and soon enough I'm dropping down towards Snake and the furthest checkpoint. I've been here before and know where it is. 

The next few are interesting. Do I go direct West from here to pick up 17, and from there, again West ish to get 18? The ground is, at best, awful- and will be very time sapping. Do I go south along the Pennine Way to pick up 20? 

Considering the ground, I decided to go with an easy run to the high point on the PW and drop North West to pick up 17, retrace my steps (ish)- to the PW and then drop south to get 20, retrace steps AGAIN back to the PW to pick up the trod back down toward turfpits for 18. It seems a little round about and uppy-downy, but the trods were a better option (with more points) than attempting to contour through heather and bog. 

There was only a mild hiccup as I tried to run towards the wrong clough at check 17, and it took a while for my brain to compute that I needed to be in Span clough, NOT Holden. Doh. Must be getting tired. 

So 17, 20. 18, and now a horrible contour through heather, bog and goodness knows what to 5- where there would be a bonus checkpoint. It's getting colder now as I've slowed down a bit, taken on food and am heading into a headwind, and my brain is starting to think about stopping. 


The contouring is kind of uppy-downy and over to a section of Bakestone Delph that is very wet indeed. There are a number of ways out of here, but none of them are particularly pleasant. The paired checkpoint is DOWN, which is kind of annoying, but at least it means that I don't have to grovel my way up a full flowing stream, and it suits me well. The next checkpoint I want to get to is over by the Trig. Technically, I *could* fight my way across the bog, but it will be easier underfoot, and probably faster overall to drop to the path to the shooting cabin, up the trod by the grouse butts and across to the trig, even though it's longer. 

As I head to the paired check it rains. Then as I go off toward the shooting cabin, it hails, the wind comes in, hood up, both sets of mitts on. Grim- and I'm not moving fast- and there isn't a huge amount of time left. My brain is already planning routes off once I hit this final checkpoint. This is the longest I've been out in months and I'm starting to feel cold and unhappy. 

Stop in the windshadow of the hut for a gel and a quick talking to myself, and off up the hill to try to find the trod thay links this grouse butt line across 2 cloughs to the trig point. As I ascend the precipitation reduces a bit, and it is easy to see where I'm going. After a couple of false starts, I find the right line, and get to the trig, and from there to the control, where there is a paired control marked. 

Looking at it, it really isn't far away, but it's across a bog. I don't recognise that on the other side of the bog there is a fairly decent path- all my brain is saying is "there is a way off to the West- it goes down and out of the weather. It's runnable and you'll get another checkpoint on the way in". 


 

And I give in to the voice, and go that way. 

Looking at it now, it would have been just as easy, and just as fast to go across the bog to the paired checkpoint, and ALSO get the other, final point as well, but, as I say... cold, tired, wet, want to get off th hill, don't want to be out any longer in case I injure myself through fatigue- all contributed to the decision to just head off the easiest and most obvious trail. 


Down the hill and off- then a final up and down to the finish, and in with a generous amount of time left. I could *easily* have got that extra 20 points, ah well. 

Off and finished- what an excellent time out. Thanks to Jim and PFR for their kind hospitality, and of course to the Lantern Pike Inn (fishfinger sarnies and chip butties!). I wouldn't have been doing much else today, and the chance to get out for 4 hours of hammering around the general area of Kinder was jolly fun. I realise that I haven't quite got the endurance for a 4 hour event at the moment, but that's fine. Plenty of time to do a whole lot of training yet. 


Monday 4 December 2023

Where are you headed?

 Every year I tend to post a link to a previous blog- Go outside, sit down. Wait. It's a decent read, even if you've read it before. 

The reason why I'm writing a kind of new/semi-update is because this kind of happened over the weekend and it was simple fortune that the casualty happened to be in a place with some kind of phone signal. 


Backstory: Snow over night. Icy on the ground. A barmy -5 air temp, clear blue skies. A bloke goes out running in the morning on a route he knows well. Tells his wife "where he is going"- and what time he should be back- in about 2 hours. 

40 mins later, the police get a call from the runner with a suspected fractured leg with a short description of what he has run past- though not his exact location, and pass the information on to Mountain Rescue. There is a further vague message, potentially from his wife that he might be on one of the lower level footpaths around here- but that doesn't match the description given by the casualty on the phone.... 

By the time the Mountain Rescue team get a team out of base, he has been sat in the snow (albeit with a foil blanket) for more than an hour. Although it is a bright, clear day, he is not in the sun and is slowly making less and less sense on the phone as he becomes gradually more hypothermic. 

He can answer the phone- but he can't use it to give us a direct location as he doesn't have his glasses with him. Why would he? He's going on a run.

Due to the information passed to us on the phone by the casualty himself, a team was on the hill and with him within 1.5 hours as he was going pretty hypothermic - with a very messed up leg. That's well within the time (2 hours) that his wife would have happily expected him to still be enjoying his run. 

What if he had just gone a bit further up onto the moor before this happened- and then snapped his leg in an area with no signal? 

When does the wife get worried enough to callout mountain rescue if he isn't home in the allotted 2 hours? Immediately? After 2.5? 3?- 

and when she DOES eventually call through- what information do we have? 

That he has gone for a run, potentially along a low level footpath that he wasn't on at all. (mixed messages? misunderstanding of potential route?- who knows)- but by that time, he'll have been in the snow with a snapped leg for 2-4 hours going severely hypothermic in an as yet unknown location.

And if you didn't know already, trauma and hypothermia as a double act are not a good combination. 

Now- I know that sometimes when you head out, you don't know exactly where you are going. Equally, it might be nice to know that people DON'T know exactly where you'll be. 

However, as one of the people that might have to put together a series of vague (sometimes incorrect) clues as to where you might be when you're ovedue/have fallen down a hole that is out of signal and snapped your leg etc. it would be really handy if someone knew at least where you were vaguely intending on going, and when you were planning on being back. 

Note- this is not just for runners- walkers are in the same bracket, and just because you *think* you're carrying more than an average runner in your rucksack, it doesn't make Mountain Rescue come any faster... in fact, you might have told someone you'll be 5-7 hours on the hill... that is a LONG time to wait before being certain that MR have been called.

Where exactly are you planning on going again?!

Whenever I go out I give Lynne a rough plan of where I'm going, what time I'm planning on being back, and a "pull the cord" time- when if she hasn't heard from me- call 999. Chances are, if I'm ok, then I'll have signal *somewhere* and should be able to tell her that I'm ok. If I'm not- then I know that there is a specific time when I *know* that MR have been called. 


If you don't know how to call Mountain Rescue in the UK- it's 999, and ask for Mountain Rescue through the Police. 

It's glorious out there. Enjoy the hills, be safe, have an escape plan, and know when you need to call it in.