Kinder Downfall Race Report

Pre-race Kit

Woke up this morning. Rain. Not just ordinary rain. Proper thick and unamusing rain. Nice. Well, at least it'll be cool for the race, I suppose.
Downfall was a race I did not get to do last year as by the time I knew about it, the whole thing was full up. Not wanting that to happen again this year I think my entry was in sometime during February. Despite doing this, and getting to race day, I still wasn't entirely sure about the route. I know it goes up, along and down, but where it starts, and more importantly, where it ends, not entirely sure. I thought I'd work it out as time went on.

We picked up a few of the Glossopdale faithful on the way over to Hayfield, getting there really quite early- not that I mind that at all, I'd rather have time for a natter with people before the race starts. Was surprised to see Pete Blands van there, in the rain, doing a roaring trade of all manner of new shoes and bags and energy gels and stuff. I managed to catch up with a few people before the race that I haven't see in in a while, Fellmonkey was there, IDP, and a load of regulars from Pennine as well whom I don't normally get to say hi to.

The rain began to slacken off as we gathered for the start (having had a quick look at the map before hand, to get a slightly better idea of the route). I had a last minute change of heart, opting to wear a helly under my club vest. If I was cold at the bottom of the hill, I was quite likely to be freezing at the top. We stood around listening to Dave Soles give us the briefing, then worked our way into place on the bridge for the start. I was really quite far back from the front, not the greatest place to be in order to get a good time, but no time to worry about that, as we were off. Round the corner and then I saw the field of runners stretch out ahead of me. Damn. That's going to take a while to get through. The leaders were already quite far ahead, and stretching out the lead, and there must have been a hundred runners or so between me and the front of the pack.
Time to make up some time.

Running up onto the pavement I skirt around a fair few runners, weave in and out a bit, gaining some time, but not going too hard, just getting up the field a bit. Turn left up onto Snake Path and its the same story, weaving in and out, trying to get past the slower runners who were intelligent enough to get further ahead of me at the start. I lose my footing once, saved myself, and carried on.
Cresting the hill I tracked down someone that looked like they were weaving drunkenly through muddy puddles. Giving him a wide berth, I realised it was idp- pleasantries exchanged I carried on.
All of a sudden I saw something in the corner of my eye.

Pete Blands Marvellous travelling shop

Aura. Damn.

The unmistakable beginnings of a migraine. Pretty soon peripheral vision will deteriorate to nothing, vision directly in front of me will go, and I'll just be able to see a small arc of whats going on, with everything around it being a bright flashing aura. This will be followed by a reduction in the aura, then, after a while, a splitting headache.
Damn.

I contemplated stopping there and then by the White Cabin, but I had no aspirin with me- and faced a walk down the hill to get to the car, and then a long painful wait until everyone got back to the car. Depressing and boring. I might as well carry on, if I fall over excessively because I can't see anything, I'll stop then, but until then, I'll run.

Down from the White Cabin along a lovely springy track I followed closely in the footsteps of another runner. I was aching to go faster, but there was no way to overtake. Acutely aware that the guys at the front were getting further away, but also that my vision was deteriorating, I decided not to chance it by thrashing around this runner in the heather, and just marked him all the way down. To the junction toward the top end of the reservoir and the bridge a lot of runners were taking the path down, a marshal there said take any line we liked, so I ran further up the path before scything down through the heather, leaving the guy I had been following for dust. I had literally no peripheral vision at this point and have no idea how many people I overtook, but it must have been somewhere around 10 or so.
Linking in with the runners on the path neatly at the bottom we pass people and I recognise Carls voice saying well done, I wave, but that's all I'm capable of, and now up William clough, the not so easy bit.

Steady pace, and get stuck behind 2 people, not so bad as I am literally following them step for step, not trusting myself to see where I'm going. Half way up and they are walking, its about 20metres to the next guy so I take a gamble, overtake and head on up to him.
Crikey, I MUST be blind. I only notice its John Hewitt as I nearly trip over his new shoes. Up the hill to the top, following on his coat tails, past Steve C who is taking photos, up past the finger post and onto the final horrible climb up to Kinder Corner. I am overtaken on the run down to the start of the climb, but I manage to take it back, and then some on the climb up. John is pulling away a bit, but in front of him is another GDH vest- its Ali, and only 20 yards ahead. My vision might be coming back a bit. This is good, but don't go too hard.

The Map- you can just about see the route

Up onto Kinder, and the clag is down big time. Running through cloud, with no real distinguishing features, not really able to read a map, or even the ground because of continuing aura, I HAVE to keep a hold on John. Despite his reputation for not being the most reliable navigator in the world, I know he knows his way around this route.
There is a gaggle of 3 or 4 of us, hammering around the edge, no-one giving a quarter, no-one saying a word. We catch up to Ali at the Sandy Heys Kissing gate, but beyond there, they all begin to edge away from me. I'm not tired, my legs are ok, I'm not breathing particularly hard, but I still can't really see. I have to keep up so as not to get lost, and also to work out where the best places to put my feet. A burst of speed gets me back on to them, but in the mist and clag, all of a sudden Ali is gone. No-where to be seen. That boy has a real turn of speed when he needs it!

I remember getting to Kinder Downfall, with Julien standing on the sidelines with Brae, giving us support and cheering us on, past there I manage to tuck in behind John, breaking up him and the other runner. There is no-one to see in front of us as we make the long, long run down toward Red Brook (it just SEEMS like it goes on forever), Kinder MRT were gathered there, but I had no thoughts for them, despite the ongoing sight problems. Then, as we passed Red Brook, my vision began to clear a bit. I could see a bit more, and was able to judge foot placements. Brilliant.
However, this means I don't have too long before the splitting headache and nausea arrives.
Only one remedy. Go faster.

I overtake John, and know he is hard, hard on my heels, we must be speeding up as other runners appear out of the mist, we are gaining on them. 2, 3, maybe 4 of them. I carry on the speed, and coming up to Kinder Low, my vision must be getting a little better as I recognise Fellmonkey, who has been miles ahead of me all race, just cruising along. Time to hit the downhill section. I pass 2 or 3 people before we go down the flags. Horrible, slippy things that you really need to be careful on, not nice. I try and keep to the sides, and manage to stay on my feet. All the way down Swines Back there is Fellmonkey and 2 others in front of me, just before Edale cross I pass one, just after Edale cross I'm hammering behind the other 2, and toward the bottom, one follows a further ahead runner left on the grass, and I make the decision to hit the rocky path with Fellmonkey. Theoretically longer and slower, but we pass the other 2 easily.

Over the stile, and blast along the path, past some DofEers who kindly get out of the way. A fantastic descent and I can no longer hear anyone behind me- I can see Ali in front of me though. Over a step stile, and up, and there is someone behind me again. He pulls up with me- is it John?

A mile from the end with Fellmonkey, just before my legs give out

No, its Fellmonkey.

We blast down the final hill, (thats the pic on the left- thanks to Chris Jackson & family for the photo)! and through the gates and stiles together. Ali has seen us and has responded and we make no ground on him at all. Thrashing through the fields, I feel great, the descent it at just the right pitch for me to let go and run, then we hit the road.
I can feel the energy sap from my legs. I've gone too far too fast. Running to beat the migraine has blown me to pieces and now my legs are paying. Fellmonkey stretches out a bit and expects me to follow, but I have nothing.
Nothing.

At times like this its all I can do to keep myself from walking. I know I have to get to the end, try and find somewhere to lie down, in the quiet and the dark. If I walk, its just going to take longer. There are a whole bunch of people behind me just aching to take back the time I gained on them during that descent.
Must. Keep. Moving.

Fellmonkey heads off in front with what seem like fresh legs- he looks back as if to say, "cmon- we're nearly there"- but I wave him ahead.
The final mile is hell, I am overtaken by only one person, but it takes an ages. I'm not sure where the finish is, and am surprised when it is so soon- had I have known, I still wouldn't have had the energy to get those last 3 places, to get in front of Ali- although Fellmonkey eventually did.

Finish. Jump in river. Rest, Kendal mint cake, BANG. Splitting headache.
I crawl to the car, change and sit there shivering, holding my head. Thankfully I know someone in Hayfield who takes me in, feeds me water and keeps me warm until Lynne finishes.
Shame I couldn't join in any post race banter, or see the film, which I hear was excellent, hopefully I will see you all next time, and we can reminisce over a pint.
As it was it was all I could do to be driven home, have a shower and collapse into a dark room.

I later found out I was 18th, in 1:18:52. That ain't bad.
Again, sorry for lack of photos, if anyone has any of me that they wouldn't mind donating, that'd be great. Maybe I'll just take a camera next time!
Thanks to all the organisers and marshals- sorry I didn't say thanks to you all as I ran through the gates like I normally do, I had other things on my mind. 
And the Results are Here.

Herod Farm Fellrace 2012 race report

I have shamelessly nicked Ians photo. Thanks Ian.

It is a year since we moved to Glossop. Last year, my first fellrace as a local was Herod Farm. I was keen to see how my running has progressed since last year and have very much been looking forward to this years edition!

However, just as an aside from running, for a moment, last year I turned up to the race knowing no-one, not really knowing what was going on, but still had a good time. This year, I am part of the organising club, there were many friendly faces, to say hello to, and others from elsewhere that apparently knew me even though I had no idea who they were.
So socially, fellrunning is a definite tick.

This year, Herod farm was Lynne's first real fellrace- she has done a few navigational races this year, but not a straight through, non nav, hill-tastic leg blast. I'm sure there will be a lovely account on her blog sometime soon.

The weather this year was somewhat different to last, being claggy, wet and horrible for the days leading up to it, and throughout the race as well. The course was muddy and grungy and slippery, but eminently runnable and likely to get churned up if you were far down the field.
After signing in and getting numbers, we jogged up to the start, followed by a quick trip up the first part of the course.
Julien, still with arm in converted sling from crocking his arm at Lads Leap was with me as we came back down the hill to the start- faced with mass ranks of runners- ready to start.

Perfect timing. We slotted in near the front of the pack, and listened to andy's pre-race talk, short and sweet. A rousing cheer was given for Joe Barber, local merchant, race sponser, and this year, participant as well.
All too soon, it was ready, steady, go, and we were off, pounding the path.

I don't know if I am the only one to think about races before I run them- but when I do, I envision myself near the front, running along effortlessly with everyone else, ready to blast out and really put some leg speed in.
Reality is somewhat different.

The lead guys shoot off like gazelles, and I'm trudging up the path, among a crowd of others, struggling to contain my gasping breath, wondering why it feels so hard to run up a slight incline. Barely 200yards into the race I'm out of breath bewildered as to where all my supposed fitness has gone- all illusions of keeping up with the guys at the front, vanished.
I see a few glossopdale vests ahead of me- one of them Julien- who is "taking it easy" on account of his fractured shoulder.
Crikey.

The path steepens and I get into a bit of a stride, Grouse comes passed me and we nod a greeting. Up onto the first part of the mud and grass and the guys in front of me begin to walk. On my recce a week ago I was able to run this quite happily. What's going on that I am now reduced to walking as well?! Walk/run up to the gate where Charlie was standing, (looking very dapper with an umbrella), left up the hill, and again, more walking.
I put in a burst and overtook 3 guys, including Steve in a GDH vest, and then try to keep up with Grouse as we alternately walk and run up the remainder of the hill.

A glorious picture of me at my best. Thanks ShaunP

Hit the top of the section, and julien is in front of us, we give chase up and over the bomb-holed grassy field, over the stile- with someone else in close pursuit. Legs feeling a bit better now, round the high point, with Neil Shuttleworth encouraging us on from the sidelines, and plunge down the first descent. Grouse catches Julien up fast, but I take my time, taking a different line over the stream, to stay in touch with him. Over a stile and into the heather.

Halfway through there is a section where you can end up in a marshy bit if you're not careful, I skirt round it and Grouse goes through it, enabling me to get round and in front of him. Down, through a stile and down the steep slippy hill. The next stile is horrible, especially if approached directly perpendicular to it, I carve out left and circle in to take it at an angle instead of having to slow too much, up, ove... Foot catches in the wire on the top.
Bugger.
Topple forward, but manage to release my foot, scrabble for some kind of balance and realise I'm losing it. Tuck, roll, up and keep running, with grouse saying 'can ye do that again, I missed it'.
We pass Ian marshaling at the corner (credit goes to him for the photo), and Grouse passes me on the path. Over the fields, and he's making good his escape and I know someone else is breathing down my neck. Through bog, mud and a couple of gates, right, through the archway of trees to the bottom of the final hill, trying desperately not to blow my legs up before getting to it.
Up through a quagmire which breaks my stride and I end up walking where I was happily jogging last week. Again. A guy in green shorts overtakes, I try and keep up with him, turning the legs over, yet he gets further away. I figure I'm doing damage to whoever is behind me, but have to drop to a walk.
Julien comes past me. Its inspiring when someone theoretically old enough to be your dad, with a fractured bone in his arm, cruises along by as you're struggling up a hill.

Beryl, marshalling and enjoying the April weather. Thanks again ShaunP

If he can do it. So can I. Back to a jog, and then through the gate. He takes more of a lead and I concentrate on trying to keep the guy behind me, behind me. I can hear rasping breaths, and it sounds like Matt. Just need to keep in front up here and I'll have him on the down hills anyway. Legs. Legs. Legs. Pain and tiredness, but Beryl and Carl are at the top, shouting encouragement to everyone. I try to run the last few steps to the top, and a glance under my arm confirms someone breathing down my neck. But its not Matt. Someone else- an unknown quantity on descents- just go for it then.
Julien is in front, but not desperately far away, catchable as he is 'taking it easy' Grouse is a long way ahead, catchable only if he makes a mistake. Unlikely.

Plunge down the hill, brain off, brakes off, I must be stretching out on the guy behind me, but never bother checking. Over a stile, down a field, jump off the next one, down through heather and catch Julien as we hit the final stretch of road. (The mantra being muttered by both of us now being "Don't fall. Don't fall")

I hammer home, never looking back, but striding out as much as I can, coming in at 28:59, 20th place. 11 better than last year and a minute and a half cut off my time. Nice.
I'm happy with that!
Looking at splits, I was faster in every part of the race in comparison to last year, excellent. Not quite there yet, still a long way to go. But progress has been made.


Apologies for the lack of photos, Lynne and I were both running and didn't really have much of a chance to take any. There were a few guys out there on the course, so as and when I can blag a couple more, they will be posted.

Edale Skyline Race Report

Ian and I looking at the inversion

Well, that was a fairly long one. Yes, I took it easy, yes my knee hurt, yes the weather was fantastic, and yes I had a fabulous day.

That's the Hope valley that is

As you may or may not know, I've been having a little bit of an issue with my left knee after the High Peak Marathon which you can read all about here. The main thing about the Edale Skyline was to have a good day out on the hill, enjoy the time on my feet, not to push too hard, and not to injure my knee more. Not entirely a return to fitness type thing, but more of a "get out running but not do anything stupid" kind of thing.

The day promised to be fantastic, sun in the sky by the time we set off to get to the start. Coming over the top of Lords seat there was a most amazing cloud inversion, with the Hope valley being swathed in a thick billows while the top of the hills bathed in glorious sunshine.

Kit check

The start was as it always is, a kit check, general banter, nervousness and an alert readiness for what was to come ahead. Great to see Stuart and Debs from Accelerate with lots of kit for sale as well! Soon it was time to head up to the starting field, and a gaggle of Glossopdalers wandered up that way, chatting about odds and ends, race lines, and vague timings that we may or may not manage to get around in.Stevie K was also there, and from the looks of him, he was trying to simultaneously pin his race number on, AND pierce his nipples. Not sure how effective he was at this, but next time you see him, ask for a quick peek. Sbrt was there too, and a whole host of people that I'm sure I recognised, but didn't say hello to. (Sorry).

Mark and I walking to the start

I for one had no clue about timings, it was all about getting around. Also, there were a couple of other things not altogether in my favour.
The clocks had gone forward last night- meaning I got less sleep than normal... but then that was the same with everyone.
The second was that I was up and about for about 7 hours the night before on a night exercise with Mountain Rescue. Which basically involved hoiking heavy gear onto a hill, doing stuff, lifting heavy people around, hacking about up a hill, and then carrying heavy gear back off the hill. Got back about 2am, so maybe not the greatest preparation for a 21 mile race.
Ah well.

In deference to my knee, I had used a couple of lengths of Rock Tape to hopefully engage some muscles a bit more as I ran, in order to keep the knee in line, and prevent further injury, which is why I have tape on my knee in some pictures.

Ask Stevie about his nipples

The start was fairly interesting, we were there gathered in the field, a bloke was talking, I presume giving instructions which we couldn't here and all of a sudden, we were running. Oh, heck, switch the watch on, and... well, bumble along. As 350 odd runners forged up the hill, I allowed myself to be carried along, and soon there were a few people who weren't expecting to see me exclaiming things like... ooooh, I must be going too fast, I'm up with you! Well, whatever. I saw Julien go through the gate quite a way ahead of me, and there was a heaving mass of runners between us, so I just carried on.
Up the hill, there were a few conversations, but nothing really exciting, just lots of heavy breathing. Rich Seipp was in various places (I swear he teleports... these Pennine and their secret ways) taking video of the race.

Saying hi to SBRT

Top of the hill, knee not doing too badly, and along the flat. Taking it easy, and there wasn't much to really thing about except, "have I put on enough sunscreen"? not something that I tend to think in a race! Down into the first downhill sections, and we passed the first D of E group of the day. (there were LOTS). Wishing them a cheery good morning, it occurred to me that I might not be trying my absolute hardest, but then, there were a number of long miles to go. As we descended, my knee began to ache slightly.
Oh No.

The start. A glorious day

I continued, thinking it might go away, but it got a little more intense, and then, I got a massive stitch in my right side. Fantastic. Barely 2 miles in and I'm suffering quite exquisitely, this is ridiculous. Slow down a bit, check the Heart rate- it says just under 160bpm. Ok, we'll try and keep that for the majority of the rest of the time on my feet.

Down Jaggers Clough, and up the side of the Roman Road onto Win Hill. I catch up with a Pennine runner, its Hanno. We chatted pretty much all the way up the hill, distracting me very well indeed from my various ailments. So well that I didn't even notice they were hurting until we neared the top, he slowed to a walk and waved me off. I carried on, and after a couple of minutes began noticing my knee again. Hmmm. I need more people to talk to to distract me.

Train of runners going up the first hill

Up onto the top of Win Hill, with Chris Jackson cheering us all on from the sidelines. As I went up onto the pike, John Hewitt and Matt Dawson had just come down off the Pike and were beginning their descent, Matt shouting encouragement, John shouting abuse. Whats new?
Up over the Pike and down. It was a lovely descent, and once we hit the fields above Twitchill farm I overtook about 10 people, looking ahead to see the guy from Tring who tends to come up to the Peak for the races. I'll catch up with him at some point, I think.

Me coming off Win Hill (thanks Chris)

Bottom of the hill, into Hope and there is a water stop, I take a gulp from a cup and pour another one over my head, saying a brief hello to Rod Holt who was out (making sure to not spill ANY water on his rather beautiful bike), and off.
Overtaking another 6 people (including Tring man) in a single bound.

Off along and past the Cheshire Cheese, not stopping for a pint (mores the pity) along the road, and the OTHER knee started to hurt.

Coming down off Back tor

Hmmm. Maybe its just normal pain in the knees, rather than something more sinister? I'll just have to carry on going and find out. My right contact lens also started to smart about now, which really didn't help at all.
Just on the way up onto Lose hill I passed Matt Heason and family, who appeared to be out enjoying the fine weather, and lo and behold, half way up the hill, Hanno caught me up and we continued our conversation, whilst taking a somewhat slower pace, walking to the top of the hill.
A Dark Peak chap came past us, making a comment about the heat, and me wearing a pair of gloves... he was wearing leggings... As we walked up the hill, and he overtook, he made a comment about also joining a rambling club recently, to which the reply (from another Pennine) was, Yeah, Dark Peak is a bit like that, isn't it? I don't think he liked that all that much.

Saying thanks to Lynne

Top of Lose Hill, and Carl and Beryl were there, cheering us on, and we started the descent to Back tor and Hollins cross in fine spirits, saying thank you to the kind walkers who let us over the stiles before them, down Back tor, overtaking a couple of other runners who were not so sure on their feet, and Lynne was at the bottom with a big smile, a camera, water and some jelly babies. A very brief water stop, drink, over head, Hanno overtakes, and off I go again.

The one and only Hanno

The long indeterminable slog up to the top of Mam tor continued. I ran. I walked. I walked. I ate some Lucozade jelly babies, chatted with various runners around me and generally didn't go too hard. Left knee hurting again, but at least Mam was half way around.

There were HUNDREDS of people up on the hill, apologies if you were up there and I didn't manage to say good morning/afternoon to you, but I just didn't have time. Looking at my watch, it said 1:22, which was pretty damn good, so I plodded on.
The atmosphere at the top of the hill was like being on a road race, which was all a bit bizarre, so over the top, and down to the road, where I saw Ian, who had unfortunately pulled out with horrendous blisters- taking the intelligent decision to stop so as not to endanger his marathon chances later in the month.

Into the distance

Up the hill, fill up the waterbottle from the waterstop, and on up onto Lords Seat. More people. I haven't been out on a day with this many people on this hill for a LONG time. Ended up chatting to a bloke who was doing the race as a warm up to his season, looking forward to doing a half ironman over snowdonia, (Good Luck with that!) A right turn onto the moor, and finally, after an age on footpaths and rock hard ground, we get to the glorious squidgy peat that I'm used to. Across the moor over to Brown knoll took an eternity. Ahead of me was John Hewitt and Matt, whom I last saw back at Win Hill. Slowly, slowly, slowly I gained on them. First I overtook Matt, who looked like he was struggling- told him to drink more water- he had a load in his bag, John took much longer to overhaul, and I finally managed it before the trig point and checkpoint came into view. We wandered along together for a while, and then I took the lead.

Nice, that will do. I don't imagine it will last for long though.
The guys at Brown knoll had water, so I gulped a small glassful and continued, Chris's Dad was up by the Stile, cheering us on, which was marvellous, and then Dave Hogg was down by the beginning of the climb up onto Kinder, again, great to get support there as well.

John overtook on the way up, and a fellow ex-Glossopdaler, Alex, who had overtaken me in the past few minutes and gained about 50 metres, took the lower line around under the path, with John shouting that it might not be the best idea.

I may look like I can't run in this picture....

I followed John up over and onto the path, and Alex, who had gained a goodly amount of time on us before taking the line popped out between us, seemingly spent. I cruised past. Walking at this point was considerable more difficult and painful than running, which was an odd experience. I looked at my watch again, wondering how long I had been out. 1:22.
Hang on.
Damn. I must have pressed stop somewhere along the way. Damn.
Ah well. Press start again and carry on. Never mind.

Up to the Pagoda, and John took a sharp left, the racing line. Despite his bad rep for not being amazing at navigating (especially during races), I decided to follow him. Well, I know the route through the Woolpacks, this looks like being an adventurous line, what the hey?
A little bit of scrambling later and we are on the moor, trudging across it. He gains ground on me, and thats pretty much the last I saw of him till the finish. I traded places with a Dark Peaker in a white cap, and a couple of runners from Penistone and Chorley. By this time I was pretty knackered and a couple of people sneaked past me.

My knees were having episodes of pain, and then nothing, my feet were hot and very achey and I was not feeling on top of the world in any way shape or form. On the way up to Grindslow knoll I saw Carl flying down the descent... I knew he was in front of me, just not by how far, he was having a storming race!
The hours of exercise with stretchers and people last night, along with 18 miles or so of running were exacting their toll. I'm not far from home now, out comes the single energy gel in my bag, some kind of caffeine infused goo that I end up chewing, gulping down water as I do so. Lets see how that works.

We hit the top, turn around, and the Dark Peaker heads off in another direction. He's doing the down and up. Brave, but in this heat, possibly stupid.

Back north, to hit the south side of Kinder, I overtook 5 people just after the first stream, and ran with a guy from Chorley for a while, exchanging banter as to just how ridiculously hot it was.
Waiting for the caffeine shot to kick in... feet getting hotter, I found myself dreaming of the stream at the end of the race. Ringing Roger, the final descent is just around the corner, yet it seems so far away.
I eventually drop the Chorley runner on a slight uphill, and see another Dark Peaker, in Green shorts. (Green Flash... was that you?!) Slowly I close in, and overtake on another downhill section.

Jasmine cooling down

Then its the final run in to Ringing Roger, I overtake another guy, and then we're at the stones, I shout my number at the marshalls, wave at Rich Seipp for the Nth time today and start down the descent.

At long last! In the stream

2 people behind, 4 in front. The stones are hard and horrible, certainly not the greatest surface to be running down at the end of a long race. We overtake another runner, and down the zigzags. I suspect that everyone is holding back, waiting to pounce at the end of the race, so I bide my time as well. I'm feeling pretty good, certainly running well under capacity throughout the whole race, except maybe the last few miles. No short cutting, and then down and onto the grass, the final run in.
Lengthen the stride as we go down the slightly dodgy bobbly bits which are rutted, overtake 2, and then a glorious 200 metre downhill grassy section that begs to be taken at full speed.
I let my legs go and pound down the slope. No pain, no fear, no problem.
Last guy overtaken, and I get a little confused as to where the finish funnel is... to the left? to the right? I'll just run at the largest portion of people and see what happens.
Storming into the finish, yes I could have run the whole thing faster, no I don't really care.

I got around, my knees didn't cripple me, though they did give me a bit of gyp, and I had a glorious day on the hill. A short time spent saying hi and well done to all those who came in before me, and straight off to the stream to cool down my feet and knees.

Cool down company

THAT was a great relief. Lovely.

I came in at 3:44:58, in 89th place, pretty good for a bimble.

Well done to Jasmine from Carnethy for getting first Lady, Julien for 2nd V50 (and the amusing tea episode, though not so amusing for him), Mark and Gwyn for their excellent runs, (despite Gwyn not actually having run that distance ever before) and to Carl for a fantastic run.

Good day out. The results.

I knew I missed a photo somewhere. There you go. idp doing the "Deliverance" version of kit checks

Good day out, and I hope that everyone enjoyed it as much as I did, and that they didn't get too sun burned. Thanks to Lynne for all the photos, the transport and the beer that I'm currently drinking. Can't wait to see Dan Lane's photos of the event, even though I'm going to be walking in his photos(!)
Here is a link to the results, well done to Ian Fitz for organising the whole thing. Good effort.

Kinder Trial Race Report

The only picture of me

The long and short of it is, good race, snowy, did some really good navving, and then screwed it up by not following the cardinal rule of nav events. Don't follow someone else.

It was snowing quite a lot last night, big floaty flakes, and the hills were whiting over quite nicely. There was a minor concern that we wouldn't get to the race, but had it been that bad, we could have just run over to Hayfield anyway.

The girls are off

As it was, the day dawned beautifully clear, and the roads were fine, soon enough we were at Hayfield scout hut getting out dibber tags, and engaging in general pre-race banter. Although it was cold, I knew I was going to warm up soon enough as we left, so opted to wear a thermal, arm warmers, gloves and shorts, unfortunately it just wasn't bad enough weather to break out the new spektr smock. Ah well, its time will surely come!

This being Lynne's second race, and first one of the year, she wangled her way to getting a couple of partners from the club and went around as a gaggle of glossopdalers, which was nice, they went off early, and went the other way around from me, so I saw them once, about halfway around the course.
I decided that I'd take a camera round, as it was such a gorgeous day, it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Because of this decision I figured that I wasn't exactly going to be competitive in my time, but at least I could make up for it with a decent bit of navigation.

Ian on the way up to Mount Famine

Time for the off, and after looking at the map and pondering it for a while, I decided that I was going to to head around anti-clockwise. The route up Mount Famine, Dimpus Clough is bad enough when you've done a short race, at the end of a long race, in the snow, would be a killer. I caught up with a Pennine runner, and we tag teamed up to the first check point, and then up to the top of Mount Famine. A quick discussion about whether to contour round to hit the next before going into the clough was had, and I had pretty much already decided that a down and up approach was the best.

Down the hill, half running, half sliding, we faffed for a fair while looking for the right clough, but staying relatively high. There were a load of runners who were doing the same thing, but had been sucked down into the bottom of the clough. After a bit of investigation, we headed up the hill, he went to look at another clough, and I continued up the same one, and got the flag. Whistling at him, I carried on. The next part was a slog uphill, and then, a delightful bash across some fields, staying well ahead of the runners that I had unintentionally guided into that previous checkpoint. I took a stonkingly good line, hit the check point, and then following a single line of footprints, instead of the majority which had gone off in what I thought wasn't the best direction, I came up around the corner of Swines Back and dropped into the clough with the next Check point. Fantastic.

Just then, a load of runners came storming down the hill, so I stopped for a moment to take a few pictures,  and carried on. This was obviously the area where I was going to be passing people in the opposite direction, Chris went past, then Charlie, then John Hewitt (who shouted at me for taking photos when I should have been getting on with the more serious task of running), Dave Hogg, Sikobe, Lynne, Alison, Beccy, Carl and Beryl. I had also caught up with Sue who was going in the same direction as me.

Chris

SBRT with Sue descending behind him

SBRT was also there, and we took a moment for a bit of mutual photo taking.
Down into the next clough and clipped the checkpoint, stopped to take a picture of Ian of DarkPeak. It was at this point that Julien caught me up and overtook. Ah well, I'm not going all out today, and anyway, its a delightful day to be out in the hills.

Carl and Beryl

Carrying onto the next checkpoint, a racer was stopping to have some jelly babies and very generously offered one to me, which was very nice (thankyou Mr Springfield Strider!) and on through some pretty gnarly terrain around Cluther rocks down to hit the next checkpoint.

Julien

IDP

Clip and away, and down, and whats this? Julien coming back up towards me?! He had missed the checkpoint by a distance and was doubling back. Ah well, he had started 20 mins after me and was 20 mins up on me anyway. Not a problem. So then on up towards Sandy Heys with this horrible climb that seemed to go on for quite a while. I consoled myself that it wasn't going up Mount Famine. To the top, clip, and Julien comes past again, I'm not entirely sure how to get to the next one, so I tag along behind him.
At this point I was well aware that I was breaking the 1st absolute rule of not following someone else on a nav event, however, it was a nice day, he knows this hill like the back of his hand, and, yes, he went pretty much straight to the point.

Fantastic, now to the next one, he set off down the hill like a rocket, and I was in close pursuit, deciding to take pictures of him descending. So caught up in the brilliant fun of running downhill fast with a friend, taking photos, and just enjoying the day out I didn't look at the map.
We got to the bottom, and surged up the other side of the valley, following Jude, who we had just caught up with. At the top of the valley, Julien turned around. We've missed a checkpoint.
D'oh. That'll teach me to follow anyone blindly every again. I was running faster than I could map read, and I wasn't concentrating. Now we were 3km from home with a 2km round trip to get a Checkpoint that we missed.

The fateful photos!

All the time that I had built up with good choices and intelligent navigation blown away by following another person. Ah well. Entirely my fault, caught up in the moment.
So back to the Checkpoint watching others that I had passed, pass me, damn.

Then the run back down the hill, and up to White cabin, I was getting tired and the line just didn't appear under my feet for ages. It felt like it took a long long time to get up there, and as the cabin came into sight, Julien was shooting off into the distance, with 4 runners that I should have been in front of.
Clip the paper, and off down the hill. I was a little unsure of the path as I'd never been along it before, but it was a wide scar through snow covered fields. I no longer cared about the puddles with ice in them, splashing though them with complete disregard for the water in my shoes.
Down, down down into Hayfield, overtaking 2 or 3 people on the way back in.
I finished in 2:43 ish, no idea, but probably well down the pecking order.
I'd be disappointed, but, I had such a cracking day out, it really doesn't matter!

Glossopdale also won a fair amount of prizes as well, despite his various detours, Julien won V50, Susan, Jude and Beryl all won their respective age catagories as well.

Well done Lynne!

Lynne came in and had quite amazing leg cramps, which surprised her quite a lot. At least she now knows what they feel like!
Now at home, sipping a Rescue Ale, courtesy of IDP and Woodhead mountain rescue, writing my blog so that Beryl doesn't get disappointed when she see me down the pub later on today!
Taking the camera around was a vrilliant success, and I might end up taking around an SLR if I can work out how to carry it without breaking it.

As a bit of amusement, here is my track in garmin, have a butchers and see where you thing we may have gone slightly wrong

I have only one slight disappointment about the day. Nick Barber didn't wear his flat cap for the duration of the race. Next time maybe?

A terribly cheesy photo of baba

Trigger- First race of the Year

Awakening at 5:50am for a race isn't something I had done for a very long time, however, it was a reality. A beautifully clear sky, frost and ice on the car awaited us. Breakfast and coffee, and a while to wake up properly, and we were on our way to Marsden. We went via 3 pick up points for fellow racers that we were ferrying to the start.
Although there was ice on the road, there was a lot of grit too, so no issues in getting there.

Pre-start

We were pretty much the first people to the race centre, and Ian from Woodhead Mountain Rescue (and DarkPeak) was there in full kit check capacity, making sure that everyone had the required kit.
A quick shuffle through, picked up the race number and sat down to chill out (quite literally) and wait.
Soon enough, people were arriving in droves. There were 200 entries, and it was over subscribed, to make up for any droppoutage.

Prep, note the lack of long legs on shorts. oops.

Waiting for the start was cold, and the water in my Camelbak tube froze while I left it on the floor. Schoolboy error! Thankfully, Lynne had some hot water in a flask in the car, so I used a cup of that to defrost the offending bit. Thank goodness. That might have caused a few problems! There was good banter at the start, a large number of Glossopdalers had entered and were standing around getting cold. I was very very glad that I had my down jacket on, which was about to be thrown into the car. One minor issue was that I had decided I'd wear shorts. Seemed sensible. But the vast majority of the competitors were wearing long tights. I hadn't even brought a pair to change into had I wanted to, and it was freezing. (-5 by someones reckoning). I had a Helly hansen top on, and a pair of merino arm warmers under that. The combination, along with the sealskinz lobster gloves should keep me warm all along the race. Very soon we were called together for a short speech before a very non-ceremonial 3-2-1.... go.

Waving at the off

Off we went into the sunrise. Beautifully clear, blue sky above us, not a breath of wind, and a couple of miles of running ahead of us. I've never raced this kind of distance before- but I have run it, so I thought I'd just focus on surviving rather than going all out, settling into a relaxed pace I saw the leaders hammering off into the distance. I was quite high up in the field, but not hooning away in any shape or form. Up the road, onto a wide track, and Matt from Glossop was a few steps ahead, so I sped up to have a chat as we ran alongside Butterly reservoir. Still cold, and very, very still, the surface was mirror-like, and you could see a very thin crust of ice that had formed in a zigzag shape across the middle. The sun was coming up over the hill, and I was very glad for my peaked cap that I had decided to wear- pretty much at the last minute, with a lot of the people around me being dazzled by the sun so low in the sky.

As we started climbing slightly I decided to let Matt get on with it and drop back slightly- his pace was a little faster than mine uphill, and I didn't want to hold him back, or burn out this early in the race. Toddling along at my own pace holding my own with a few others, we passed a bevy of deer up in a farm to our left, and then a flock of sheep, just lined up across the dam at Wessenden reservoir.
We carried on up, a massive line of runners, perhaps spread out over a kilometre or so by now, the path carried on up the hill, and then, all of a sudden, runners were splitting from the path and hacking out across bog. Everyone was doing it, and as I hadn't reccied this bit I thought, no harm in following them, and tagged along at the back. Over a boggy stream, up a hill our first real taste of off road running- very hard and icy, over a couple of stiles, and down a hill. Hey presto. We're at Isle of Skye road.

Credit- Rich Asquith - Flaming Photography

That was fast. Excellent. Eat half a Geo-bar, (there is no sense in carrying food that I'm not eating), and after all, a long run is really just an extended food management exercise, I thought I'd just carry on at that pace.

Across the road, with a fantastic cloud inversion across to the East, we travelled down into a slight valley, and then up the hill, which always promised to be a bit of a slog. The paving slabs underfoot were generally ok, but in places where water had trickled across them over night, were a bit treacherous. Very very slippy ice and black ice was in evidence, and you had to be a bit careful with your foot placement. I nearly slipped once, but held it together quite happily. Up the hill, walking, then running, then walking, then running, a skein of about 50 geese winged its way overhead, honking quite merrily, which was a fantastic sight to see on such a clear day. Up and up, as we crested the rise, the wind was howling up from the South, with quite a chill in the air, clothing management, and the Buff came off my wrist and on my head, under the cap, covering my ears. Mmm. Thats warmer. At one point we had to cross a stream, careful managment of foot placement should see me across it happily enough. Down to the rock by the waters edge, a launch, on which my foot skidded quite spectacularly, and a rather ungainly step into the middle of the cold cold water. Nice. According to the photo that was taken by Rich Asquith a little later on, a cut on my leg... no idea that was there. (Go to his website Flaming Photography for some excellent images of the race)

I was still in no-mans land. The faster runners way off ahead, the slower-faster runners a about 200 yards ahead, and the faster-slower runners behind, but my cold, wet foot was warming up with every step.
Coming up to the first trig, Black Hill, we passed the Woodhead Mountain Rescue contingent who were marking off our numbers as we came through, and I was finally on ground that I vaguely knew, and the first downhill section of the race. Excellent, I'll make up a bit of time here.
At this point, I was behind a couple of people who were running together, but quickly dispatched them. But the ground was not nice to run on. It should have been a bit boggy, quite squishy, and easy to run on. Not a bit of it. It had iced over, the ground was rock solid, tufts of grass were sticking up which were also iced solid, unstable ground was frozen and unforgiving, and at speed, it would have been pretty vicious ankle spraining territory. Not quite the downhill flying section I was anticipating.
Ah well, keep it together, and just keep going downhill. I was gaining on a few people, and without really trying, took a few quite easily. Jumping across ditches was interesting, because you couldn't trust that the ground was going to be forgiving and easy to land on. It was like concrete.
Except the bits with a thin crust of ice which you went through to get another cold shoe of water, and cut your shins on the ice.

The ground steepened as we surged down toward Crowden Littlebrook, and I was finally catching up with Matt and his little group of runners. Ian Winterburn was taking some wild lines across the bog, and when I saw there was a curve in the path ahead, I decided I'd just bee-line it across. Great idea. Well executed, and then a fall, a roll and get up, in front of about 8 runners- getting up just in time to see the ground radically steepen below me down toward Littlebrook, and a gaggle of Mountain Rescue Guys who were waiting for people like me to come crashing down the hill.
But I stood up, carried on running, looked down the steepness and assessed where the best line for getting down the clough and up the other side, and, to be honest, it looked best and most straight forward to follow the fall line.
Bang, straight down, across the river, up again and onto the path, in the process passing all 8 people. Saying "Hi" to the MRT guys in as nonchalant style as possible, trying to make it seem as if the whole thing was planned, I gained the path, fixed my eyes on the runner ahead, and plodded. I fully expecting the horde of people I had just thundered past to gain on me and overtake at any moment.
Nope. Not a bit of it.

Carried on, caught up with the next runner- which was Dan, who I did the 15 trigs with mid last year. We carried on, and still, no-one was catching us up. Ah well, quite a good little line there then.

Along the path, and then a descent into Crowden, we were eventually getting caught, down and a dodgy road crossing, passed another gaggle of MRT members and then along the reservoir to the dam, and then up and onto Bleaklow- the 2nd climb of the day.
I knew there were helicopters buzzing around, working on the "Moors for Future" project, ferrying large sacks of moss and heather and other stuff up onto the moors. I had heard there was a Huey up there, and didn't really believe it, but as we approached there was that trademark deep "choka-choka-choka" that you hear on films like Platoon and Apocalypse Now. Flipping heck. There's a Huey up there!

I was with Dan, Andy and Matt, all Glossopdalers, and John Doyle from Pennine, as we headed up across the road and up the slopes, it was just like a club run. To the right were people clay-pigeon shooting, up above us were low flying helicopters, it was certainly like no other fellrace I have ever run.
Ian W was at it again with his various "short-cuts" which inevitably brought him out at the same place as us, at exactly the same time.
Up and then, really, up. A scramble up a semi-dry waterfall/stream bed, straight up, clinging onto heather and rocks, and all too soon, it was over, and on to the top, along Lawrence Edge up to Wildboar clough.
By the end of the scramble I had no one around me, with everyone taking different lines up, so I set off in pursuit of John- not very fast pursuit, I must hasten to add, but I was pursuing.

Coming up to Snake Summit

To be honest, I was shuffling a bit by now, but keeping moving. Heading up through Wildboar clough it was icy as a freezer. Underfoot was horrible, and I nearly twisted my ankles numerous times. I heard footsteps behind me, figuring it was Andy, Dan or Matt, I carried on and figured they'd pass me at some point in the very near future. The Huey continued to thunder overhead, at times seeming to be just a couple of hundred metres off the deck, may be closer. Those things are LOUD!

We trudged up the clough, which seemed to take an age, and then a massive leap over the stream at the end and up, over the stile.
At this point, I realised the guy behind me wasn't a familiar one, we had a quick conversation about lines up and onto Bleaklow, so I told him to follow me up and over, there was a pretty good line, so we carried on.
The line up to the Pennine Way was fine, nothing out of the ordinary occurred, no-one over took us, and really, we didn't see anyone until we got up to Bleaklow Head, a turn about and over to Wain stones.

On my last recce, in the midst of fairly average Bleaklow weather I ended up going far too far in the wrong direction, completely missed my point, gave up and got myself off the hill for dinner time. Nothing like that today. It was clear as a bell, and as we passed the MRT guys at Wain stones I looked out for the trod going across to Herne Stones, and then onward to the Trig point. I missed it completely. However, no problem at all, as the bogs we were crossing, normally leg sucking monstrosities, were iced over and solid underfoot. By this time Craig (yes, we had introduced ourselves by now, and exchanged life stories) and I could see a couple of people who were ahead, and appeared to have taken the correct line, however, by bashing across the bog in a straight line, we caught up to them as we passed Herne stones, and had over taken them by the time we had got to the Trig point. - It was Dark Peaker John Boyle (not to be confused with John Doyle who I mentioned earlier... I ALWAYS get them the wrong way around, sorry guys). At the trig point Craig and I turned South East and powered down the hill toward the waterfall in Crooked clough.
Again, the ground, rough and hard, ankle snapping stuff, but we got off ok. Up onto the trod, and then a bust across the moor onto the Pennine way. I completely stuffed the line up and broke up too early, but again, the frozen ground came to the rescue, and we hit the Path early with no problems at all. We were discussing lines across to Kinder now, and Craig was saying his friends told him the best line, without doubt, was straight down the flagstones and up onto Kinder. Fine, if he wanted to go that way, not a problem, I was going straight over Featherbed Moss. He asked if he could go with, and as he asked so nicely, I said yes.

Away over Featherbed Moss

An easy pace down toward the Snake Pass where Lynne was waiting with a camera and water if I needed it, which I didn't, MRT members were also there, and we got across the road without incident, through the gate, hang a left, and up the Landy track. Skirting Featherbed Moss we resorted to walking at points, as we saw John Doyle ahead of us- we reccied the same route a couple of weeks before. Over the "crest" and now we could see the line of the ascent up to Kinder. But not before a hellish descent over groughs and through heather to get to the bottom of Ashop Clough. I swear it took half a lifetime to get through that lot- it certainly didn't seem that far when I reccied it the other day, but to be fair, that was just a bob over the hill as opposed to having run 15 miles beforehand.

The climb up Kinder was horrible. Nothing like Bleaklow, which was more of a scramble, this was just a long, hard, horrible slog that seemed to go on forever. Getting tired now, and eating the last of my "normal" food, only "emergency" type food left- but I had a bit of it left. We eventually broke onto the top and stumbled up the ramp clough to the trig, I wasn't quite finished, but was at the beginnings of struggling.
Past the MRT guys at the trig, showing our numbers for the last time before the end, turn down, across what would normally be bog, but now frozen ground, and onto the edge path, from there nearly to the Downfall, and then up the river, which was frozen solid.
If there is one thing that you don't want to do without spikes on your shoes, its on a frozen river. We worked our way up and past Kinder Gates, and eventually, it had to happen, one of us went over HARD. It wasn't me. Craig was on the floor on the ice in a fair amount of pain. Stop. Make sure he is ok, help him up, check he can walk/run, help him along, and we were back going.
The line across Kinder wasn't ideal, it certainly wasn't as good as the one I hit on another recce the week before, but again the solid ground made it fine. By this time, Craig and I had been joined by another runner, who piggy backed us across the plateau.
It was testing and hard, but we got across, at which point, I was sugar-crashing quite interestingly. I stuffed down a Snickers and sucked up the last of my water. When I filled the bladder in the morning I was hoping that I would run out just before I hit the last descent. Seems like I got the balance pretty much right, but the guy who piggy backed across behind us was flying down the clough to Grindslow Knoll. Dammit. I was getting cold, hands, which were warm all the way through the run were beginning to chill, the biting wind cutting across the moor. However, not too far to go, I didn't need to put on a waterproof yet, and anyway, the end was nearly in sight. I'd get there ok.

As I was coming to the Knoll, who should pop out from the West... Ian Winterburn! He must have had an AMAZING line across Kinder, either that, or he was just better at rough ground at the end of a long race than me. I trailed behind all three of them (Craig was ahead by this point), and I dragged myself to the end of the Knoll, and threw myself down the hill. Too tired to work out any intelligent line, I pretty much kept to the path all the way down, overtaking Ian, but being left behing by the other two.
Argh. Tired, painful legs, not quite working properly, hammering down a hill at the end of a race... there was an amazing line which I completely missed, but nevermind, just focus on the end.

Through the gate, and John Hewitt was there shouting at me to get a move on and catch the 2 guys in front, one of whom had just fallen over in the field. Great, I thrash into the field, theoretically, great running terrain and within 10 paces, I'm over and sliding down on my side, up again, and a few more steps, exactly the same, over on my side. Nightmare. The grass is icy and slick as the river back at the top. Be more careful- a few more running steps, and a third time, I hit the ground, hard.

Right. Speed has to be the key. Up and run faster. All I can hear is John in the distance shouting at me to "GET UP" and something about being a lazy swine, lying around on the floor at the end of a race- but I might have imagined that. Running down the grass, I can see the other 2 in the distance, catchable? I don't know. They disappear down the path, and I plunge down there after them. But not fast enough.

The end

By the time I get to the end of the path and onto the final run in on the tarmac, they have gone. Ah well, keep up the speed, and down the road, dodging cars and jeeps, and 100 yards before the end, I finally catch up with Craig.
I don't know if he felt guilty that I lead him to the end all the way across from Bleaklow and let me finish before him, or if he was genuinely knackered and couldn't stop me from getting past. Probably the the former, to be honest.

So I came in 23rd. Pretty tired, but quite happy with the result. And about a minute later I remembered to stop my garmin. Official time, 3:59:12 for 35km, with (allegedly) 1,165m elevation (learnt not to trust Garmin so much on the height gain...) That's not bad.

Remembering to switch off

The food (chilli and a load of cake) at the end was most welcome, along with the happy smiley faces, the excellent organisation and the help from Woodhead Mountain Rescue.

Julien came in 6th in about 3:30, and first V50, and the Glossopdale ladies team came in 2nd team place. A pretty good result, it has to be said! The winner was Oli Johnsone from Dark Peak in 3:13
Excellent event, and a classic in the making.

Real food

Post race laughs

Julien getting V50, going in for a snog with Nicky

Ian, and the Woodhead Rescue Ale

CAKE!