Unfortunately due to restrictions placed on the organisers, the navigational element of the Trigger was sadly curtailed this year. No options onto Kinder, no option across it, and the enforced keeping to a trail pretty much from Snake summit, round the Kinder Plateau to the finish at Edale. Still, there were good reasons for this, so I'm not griping, merely pointing out the facts of the route.
|Me and StevieK|
It was good to see a decent amount of Glossopdale out, and great to see a good force of Pennine out and
about as well.
Fishwick, on his first Trigger, not having recced it - but with the cold, clear day, he shouldn't really have any problem with keeping tabs on the 300 or so runners traipsing across the moorland.
I settled into my pace, and ended up pretty much running on my own, passing Nicky Spinks, and another couple of Dark Peak runners, one of which seemed to take exception to that, and leapt on ahead of me. No bother... keep thinking, run at your own pace, respond to nothing, just keep monitoring the pace.
Slowly I began to catch up with another gaggle of runners, and it wasn't until about 20 mins in that I finally caught up with Grouse and Caity, who was going great guns, up ahead, another Pennine vest hove into view, and as a load of runners carried on up the path to the Isle of Skye road, I caught up with Dave Soles, where we had a chat about how many people were going the path way instead of the boggy way.
At which point, I pretty much fell in up to my thigh and covered both legs with delightfully coloured brown swamp gunk. What a look!
I carried on up the hill to the road - still keeping the "never walk" line.
|On the path to Black Hill|
up with another group of 4, being led up the hill by Dave Ward. The pace felt slightly slow for my "run" (it really wasn't much of a run by this point, more of a cross between a jog and a shuffle - but still more than a walk), so I overtook, and shuffled my way off upward.
Snow was very apparent on the ascent, as was a fair amount of ice, though the air was clear - the wind was really buffeting from the right. As in really quite strong. Taking on board some food I headed toward the Black hill trig point where I had to display my number for the Mountain Rescue at the Checkpoint.
Now - a minor aside, if you will. I wear a smock. with a bumbag. And massive gloves. With my race number attached to my chest, under my waterproof, in order to show it to the guys on the checkpoint - normally the windiest, most exposed part of the course, I have to take my gloves off, pull up my nicely tucked jacket, let the elements howl around my exposed torso, while they note down my number.
Complete idiocy. If there is any reason for getting hypothermia today, it won't be down to my clothing system, but rather to having to expose myself on the top of a hill because Im not allowed to wear a number on my leg.
Anyhow. Rant aside. Continued off from the Trig point, pretty much alone, and down into the valley that takes us into Crowden. Twas a bit muddy and a bit slippy - I took a couple of tumbles there, but nothing serious, into the river and onto the track that becomes a Landy track to Crowden.
I became aware of a person catching me up- Lee Langdon - Pennine. We had a bit of a chat, and then I followed him down the hill (down the nice cut... not the horrible path) to Crowden where a number of supporters were stood. I slowed down a bit to grab a swig of water from Lynne, and had to wait a bit for
I chugged a gel in anticipation of the climb up Lawrence edge and ran to the dam, over and across, Lee was just ahead... and walking. Just keep that pace going.
Chris Jackson was doing some excellent water duties as well, just by the wall heading up past the shooting ground - shame he wasn't running today. On the way up towards Lawrence edge - I ran, I walked, and anything I thought "if I was training, would I run here?" and the answer was yes, the legs got going again.
Up through the heather, and you could see a line of people going up the steep line on the edge. I could do that, and follow them... but there is another line. If I take the line everyone is doing, I'll not gain any ground. If I take the other line, I might gain some, I might lose some. Not really racing, so it'd be interesting to see. Steve Watts was just in front of me and took the direct line, I took the other line, and we hit the top bang together. So nothing in it really.
We watched as the Dark Peaker mentioned previously battled into the headwind around the Edge toward Wildboar clough. Steve said.... so you've got a line up here have you? My response was something along the lines of - Not exactly - I recced it a couple of years ago, so it might not be the best.
We went up what I thought was probably the right clough, hung a right and barrelled along another clough, out of the wind, having a bit of a chinwag about racers and racing, until we popped out in Wildboar clough pretty much bang next to StevieK, who appeared to be having a bit of a walk... which rapidly turned into a run when he noticed up. Fantastic, I haven't seen him at all since before the start!
Re-think... which race are we doing? Trigger. Not the High Peak Marathon. Checkpoint at Wainstones? Nope.
Ok. Different path, so I diverged and took the trod to Herne stones, cutting off a wodge of what they were doing. The snow on the ground made it a bit of a mission to tell exactly where I was, and I wasn't entirely sure I was in precisely the right place, but with the clear air, it didn't matter too much. Having said that, I think I might have bodged up the climb from Herne to Higher Shelf, considering that StevieK caught me up by the B-29, but it was the sight of Julien in clown wig, with a camera that cheered me up as I left the checkpoint and I blasted off down the moor, to the down and up into crooked clough. I hadn't decided on this previously, but with the wind blowing firmly across the clough, I figured that the less time spent on the path the better - and this minimised my distance to about 700m. I saw someone else on the same line as me, who, right at the bottom, just as you are making time gains, cut hard left... no idea where he was going, but anything he had just gain was lost from that moment.
Down and up. Legs burning a little bit- and I certainly wasn't going to run the steep climb out of the clough, so I walked out, past a photog, and ran down and across to Devils Dike, and hit the Snake.
Again, supporters out in force, I had time to catch a drink from Lynne, another gel, and a mouthful of rice cake before going to the gnarliest bit of the day.
|Me, about to cross the flags|
much had the route dictated to us. (and for good conservational reasons).
However, as I began the run across the flags, I decided to take it a bit easy, and had gone a couple of K before I put my foot in the first of the holes I found. Ice and snow on the ground, wind howling across so hard that it numbed my mouth - I couldn't eat, I couldn't speak... Stevie K came past me, and I had no intention of chasing him, but I kept with him for a while, until I put my foot in another hole and I went down pretty hard. Stevie checked I was ok, and I motioned for him to carry on - my leg wasn't broken, or anything close, it just hurt a lot. Blood dripped down from the knee and the shin, and I carried on.
|Kinder. With snow on.|
It was so cold and windy that my eyesight started to get affected- I was seeing double, and feeling a bit sleepy - not sure if I had lost a contact lens to the wind, I just screwed up my face and carried on, at that same running pace. StevieK ahead of me, and Steve Watts catching up. At Mill Hill, if I turn right, I can be at home in about 20 minutes. Its all downhill.
I turn left, and with Steve Watts, ascent Kinder Corner, slowly catching up with StevieK as we round the top, and head to the checkpoint. Directly after the Check, StevieK asks if I'm ok again, and the three of us run down to the edge path, the final hours work or so before the finish, agreeing that the sooner this is over, the better.
|Up to Kinder Corner with the Steves.|
lead, and managed to get around to the next path without too much issue, swiftly followed by the other two, and we run down toward Red Brook - an area where the path seems to fade before my eyes and I end up taking a lower route... its not quite right, and I look back and up. StevieK is 20m higher up the hill, so we carry on to a likely looking spot, and thrash up through vegetation and snow until we rejoin the path, a little
way behind him.
All along the edge path we trade leads - me - I'm just keeping to that pace. No responses, no surges, just that steady metronome, and by the time we get to Kinder Low trig point, I head Directly East, thankfully with the wind now behind me, it pushes me along. There is no-one beside me, and as far as I know, no-one behind me. I don't bother to check.
That looks like a trod in the right direction - I'll follow that.
This looks like a path, and heads past those rocks, thats about right, I'll go along there. And so on and so forth until I reach the flagged path that takes me to Grindslow Knoll - which I follow.
No point in having food now, just keep that beat. Keep that steady flow, and run.
The final drop off the knoll, I get a little wrong, but recognise my mistake before it becomes a catastrophic navigational error. I cut back and forth before getting the right line, and sledge down the hill.
2k to go, and I hammer down the last grassy part of the slope. The steady tick-tock nature of the run has served its purpose well, and now it's time to get home... I reckon I can do this in sub 4 hours.
Down the path and hang a right, onto the road, and pound down the road.
How long is this bloody road?
Ah, there is the end.
I round the corner, finish, and have my number clipped off me.
10th. 3:55 or so. A gash and a lump like an egg on my shin.
A pretty epic day.
Well Done to those in the top 10 that beat me - Neil Northrop- Dark Peak, who won, Adam Perry - Helm Hill - 2nd, Simon Harding (are you still Macc?!- 3rd) and, in no particular order - Jasmine (1st Lady),
Conrad, Spike, Mark O and a couple of others that I didn't recognise.
StevieK and Steve Watts came in behind me, closely followed by Lee Langdon, Dave Ward and that Dark Peaker.
I didn't really hang around at the end as my leg started to swell up like a good'un and figured it needed a bit of a wash and some tender care at home. Glad I didn't wear a pair of running tights, I'd have ruined them.
Thanks Muchly to Lynne who ran around and supported me all day, giving food and water etc. It would have been a lot harder without her.
And Thanks for digging grit out of my leg. I think its all gone now.
Well done to all those that completed, or indeed, even attempted it. Twas a Gnarly day out there.
|Tis but a flesh wound.|