I've been meaning to do Ennerdale, one of the Lake District Superlongs, for some time now. Maybe a decade. The only other time I got around to it was when it was an English Champs, and the shorter course was run due to Thunder and Lightning making the peaks unsafe for the marshals.
This year, Chris was doing it (as always), and Jamie had also signed up, so come the day- it would be quite churlish to say I didn't want to do it. It was also a nice way to bookend the time away for the last few weeks. Old County Tops, followed by time away, and then Ennerdale the day after we got back.
As it was, I haven't ever run the route before, don't really know the hills, and hadn't really even LOOKED at the route in any detail. Which turned out to be a bit of an error, to be fair. I had a map printed- 6 sides of 1:25000, so pretty detailed, but trying to map read while in clag while trying not to fall over due to shoes that really didn't grip on any kind of stone surface turned out to be a bti more of a challenge than expected.
An early start to get to pick up Jamie and get to Chris, before the long drive to Ennerdale saw us parked in the carpark a good km or so away from registration. It had rained on the way, and the tops towards the complicated end of the race were shrouded in mist. A decent wind was also blowing, but it was relatively warm. After registering and getting over to the start line, I decided to start a decent way back, not feeling amazingly well, and certainly not wanting to be pulled along at a pace that I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain for 22 miles and 2000+m of ascent.
The first 10-15 mins were spent at a lovely sedate pace, running around the end of Ennerdale water, gradually overtaking people and gaining ground, up the first hill, toward Herdus I overtook Sue from Pennine for the first of many times. In hindsight, I should have just run with her for the entire race and I'd have run less far, fallen over less, and still finished in the same time!
Up to the top of Great Borne, and I was with a Keswick runner, but no-one was in sight in front of me as the hill dropped away in front of us. Ah- minor issue. Not wanting to be reliant on others, I stopped for a moment to pull out my map, and then carried on. It was grassy(ish) underfoot at this stage, so the shoes were vaguely grippy, as expected. Contouring across and around Starling Dodd I could again see people in front of me, and a decent trod was able to be followed. Around Little Dodd and then the climb to Red Pike, where the clag had descended to. This was where things would start to get interesting, and I'm only on page 2 of my map list! Top of Red Pike, and the warning not to head north, or you end up in Buttermere valley- and a long long climb or round trip to get back. For the first time in many many fell races, the compass came out.
Following something of a bearing, and trying to work out the ground from the map we groped our way through the mist off Red Pike, and onward toward High Stile. There were a number of us vaguely together here. There was not a lot of grip, but those in VJ shoes were doing a lot better than others. I wasn't running hard, merely running along, trying to stay out of trouble, but it was not an easy prospect. Down off Gamelin End to Seat (all these names, I'm merely reading off the map as I sit here, I had NO idea what was called what as we ran around). On the "path" between Seat and Haystacks I kind of recognised where I was from a previous recce of Buttermere- which does this section in the opposite direction. However, it was at this stage, just under 2 hours into the race that I caught a foot and went down hard, catching my Right little finger and wrenching it outward away from the rest of the hand.
Yikes. Pain. Dislocation? It definitely felt like it. Holding my hand with the other one and pressing it into my body I continued walking for about 200 metres before I realised my vision had gone purple and I couldn't actually stand up- shock had definitely set in. So I sat down to assess my hand and my options.
The finger looked like it was in a normal position- good, but hurt like hell. It hurt so much I couldnt really think of much else at that point and figured that continuing onward into the mist, not really knowing the route, and knowing the terrain was going to get worse was probably not a good idea. Especially with the knowledge that I wasn't really able to concentrate much.
People were passing me and checking I was ok. There was a "non-marshal" just up the way at Scarth Gap, so I figured it would be good to walk back to them, let them know I was dropping out, before making my way down the path and into the Long Long walk back down Ennerdale. I wrapped the hand really tightly in a buff, holding all the knuckles together and started to walk back, reassuring the runners who were passing me that I was ok.
As I got to within 300m of the non-marshal marshal (unoffical marshal? enthusiastic supporter?) it became apparent that my hand had calmed down a bit and I could concentrate on other things... quitting now was going to be just as hard to get back as doing the rest of the race, and I'd be on my own. I might as well turn around and continue on. So I did.
I soon caught up with a bunch of people that had passed me as I had sat on the ground in a considerable amount of shock and I had to tell the story a few times to different people as I passed. Around Innominate tarn I caught up and passed Sue for the second time of the race. The rocks by now were wet and provided very little grip for my shoes, so the only way to be sure of footing was to wedge my feet into the gaps between them. Birkbeck tarn next and then up and around Brandreth in considerable clag. Steve Birkenshaw, who had overtaken me whilst I was walking backward down the course was just ahead of me, and figuring he knew were he was going, I tucked in with him. There was no visibility anywhere here, and we literally could have been on any hill in the Lake District and I wouldn't have known better.
After Brandreth is another cluster of pools, which confused the heck out of me, and on the way to Green Gable I think I caught up with Sue *again*. The summit appeared out of the mist, we dibbed at the checkpoint and then carried on. At this stage I knew I was running slower than I could have done, but to increase my speed would have meant I'd have just got seriously lost, and would end up waiting for others to catch up with me. I hate this kind of thing as you're meant to be an autonomous runner in these situations- but I didn't really trust myself- not knowing the terrain, and not even having really reccied the course, even online beforehand.
Around Great Gable and up, we caught up with the Keswick runners I had been with right back on the first ascent- which was a real surprise. A lot of people had gone wandering in the mist, it seemed, and a group of up to 20 of us climbed Kirk Fell en masse and took the BG gulley line down- some of whom were a lot faster than others on the descent. Next was the long and drawn out ascent of Pillar where I ended up in the front of the pack with 3 others, and became seperated from those behind us. We initially took a fine line off Pillar, but then took a significantly dodgy wrong turn (down what I have to say was a delightful scree line)- and then had to work our way back around to the path across to Little Scoat fell, where the line of all the people we had left behind on the ascent were gently trundling away. I skinned my knee pretty well on the way back across to the path, but apart from a bit of blood, nothing to worry about.
My shoes were full of scree at this point, but not wanting to be lost in the mist *again*, I ran on meeting up with the people that I had been running with for a decent amount of time now. off Scoat fell I tripped and fell again, skinning my left palm and as we ran toward Haycock there was some conversation about exactly where were were and if there was a sneaky line around the lump after Haycock. At this stage I realised I couldn't actually see the detail as my map was smeared in blood which was a bit of a problem, and then spied Sue ahead AGAIN, so continued on to catch up with her. Off Haycock and down, finally the clag was beginning to lift, but an oppressive heat built up. All of us were tired and tired of being lost. There was a group of 4 of us who were trundling down off the hill and round the corner, when 3 of those behind us appeared over a fence to our right having taken a lovely short cut above silver cove. All these lines that you can take if you know the area!
Up to Checkpoint 8 and the line strung out again, the running was good, but my feet were really sore from all the scree that was in my shoes. I took the decision that if I stopped and even if overtaken, I could probably regain the places I lost. Although in a group of 4, it wasn't really of any consequence if I came in at the front of of the back of that number of people, so I stopped and emptied my shoes.
Sue came past again. And another bunch of people. But with empty shoes and less painful feet, there wasn't really a new lease of life, but certainly an ability to run without looking like I was going to fall over. I caught Sue up again at the gate to the plantations and made my way up to the final checkpoint, not quite getting to within 100m of the group I was with previously. Then the final downhill off Crag fell, stopping to jump in the stream for a moment as a final cool off. I let a runner come past me who was very obviously faster on that final descent, and just carried on at my own pace, right the way down to the final run in- which I had NO idea how long it was.
Quite long as it turned out. So long, the runner who just passed me ended up having to slow down and stop with cramp as I passed him. The flagged run in seemed never ending, but finally it turned left into the scout camp and the finish funnel.
42nd. in 5:27. What a day out.
For the first time ever, I availed myself of the first aider at the end of the race (bleeding all over Chris's car seemed a bit churlish), and she cleaned my knee and hand, and strapped up my finger. Prize giving came and went (Chris was 2nd V45, I was 4th, but 20 mins behind 3rd), and collecting up our various bits and pieces, we made our weary way home.
Lessons? Recce the race, be it on the ground or even by google maps. Also. Buy a pair of VJs.
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