King's Challenge Fell race 9/8/18

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A typical fell race 

There's many reasons why fell races are different to roads races, but just one of them is that fell races aren't really run over distances like 10k or 10 miles; generally they're something like "Go out of pub, up road, through park, up moor, round trig, then back here t' bandstand" and the distance is whatever that turns out to be, which in the case of the King's Challenge fell race in Silsden, happens to be quite close to 10k

Debi arrived at my house nice and early and we headed off to Silsden, cutting across country to avoid traffic which was so effective we found the King's arms nearly an hour before we were due to set off. The smell of the food wafting across from the restaurant next door was way too much to take before a fell race and I was feeling pretty hungry, but I decided against eating any scabby horses' heads so close to race time.

Where's the bloody start?

We milled around outside the pub and the main talking point seemed to be "So where's the start then?" No one seemed to know. But as is the way with these things, I knew we'd soon enough find out.

At the pub I ran in to my clubmates Daniel, Martin (Surprisingly. I say surprisingly, because despite being chairman of a fell running club he doesn't really do "fell" races) Christine and Paul.

Paul and I have developed a small rivalry this year. At the beginning of the year Paul had the beating of me and in fact had been beating me for a year before I finally managed to beat him in a couple of races, but then last time out at Ingleborough he had got me again. I've not been training great recently and neither has Paul so today was anyone's guess. As is now traditional, I pretended to kick Paul in the knees before the race. I also tried to persuade him that drinking a couple of pints in the pub would help his time. He didn't buy it, damn it. I really didn't think I had any chance to finish in front of Paul as I really had a bad case of the "I can't be bothereds" 

I had a bit of a look at the map. I've been up to the trig we were running to a couple of times, but never from this direction. I was pretty confident I'd be ok though, the race being an out and back and I was pretty unlikely to be leading it unless something pretty tragic happened to 50 other runners, so I would always have someone to follow and would see them coming back. A quick check with the race organises confirmed that there were no kit requirements so my bum bag and waterproofs remained in the car.

As I mentioned, I didn't feel especially good. A pretty average night's sleep and a hard day at work had sapped my enthusiasm, but I took heart from the fact that I have often had my best races when I've really not felt like it.

The start revealed itself when the race director pushed the button on the pedestrian crossing and everyone walked in to the middle of the main road. Nope, I'm not joking.

About 50 yards up the road another marshal was stopping the cars. I idly wondered if they had permission to block off the main road through the town, but not for too long, because within seconds we were off.

This is a picture of the start of The Stoop fell race which has nothing to do with this fell race, basically because I couldn't find any photos from the start of this race

And off we went

We set off "up road" with half a dozen car drivers no doubt wondering what the hell was going on before we turned right up a little side street and into the park. My legs were already talking to me saying "Oooooooo, no. We're not going to be doing this, this evening you silly bugger"

Luckily I am very well used to ignoring anything my legs have to say to me and I carried on regardless.

Through a small housing estate, through some farmer's fields and we started on up the track to the trig.

Paul was a little way in front of me and as always, he looked to be running easy and strong. Earlier I had caught him at a stile and he seemed to be blowing hard, but right now he looked good and I didn't think I would be catching him.

The route up isn't one long climb, there are a couple of small down hills and each time we went down them Paul pulled away from me. I didn't think this boded well for me should he get to the top in front. However, by half way up the climb, each time we went up anything steep, I was catching him. Quite the cat and mouse game, although Paul of course had no idea as I was behind him the whole time.

Many thanks to Carolyn Brett Muir for the awesome photos. This was early in the climb 

Going down (Fnar fnar)

I was pretty sure that if Paul beat me to the top, I would have no chance of finishing in front, so when he suddenly started walking not far from the top as we approached another stile, I took my chance and sprinted in front of him as I was feeling pretty good. Through the stile I could see the trig point maybe a hundred yards away and I gave it some welly. A quick trip around the trig and I set off hard. To my surprise I still felt good and started to push- I needed a lead on Paul before he got to the top and inevitably started catching me during the descent.

I suppose I ought to finish writing this

So, it's now 3 months after the fell race and I've come back to finish this account. The accuracy may  not be up to my usual standard of "bad" and may drop to "a bit rubbish"
Also, I managed to find a picture of the real start of the race now:

The "inevitable" catching of me by Paul never happened. Apparently he didn't feel very well on the way down and as I did and was going hard, my lead was never in jeopardy .
I nearly went wrong a few times on the descent and had to keep a good eye out for tape hanging off random pieces of fence and bushes.

On the way down

Eventually we came back to the park and I followed a Bingley runner back they way we'd come. Turns out you actually come back in a different way than you go out and we had added a little extra distance but in the end it made no difference.
I came 27th in 52:08 out of a field of 76 which I was perfectly happy with
Here's me looking confused (my default setting) after the race

That's another fine mess you've got me in to

The Chevin Fell race June 2018

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This was the first time I took part in the race in 2013

The Chevin scowls down on Otley from a height of 925ft. Why anyone would think it would be a good idea to run up it from station road in Otley then immediately plummet back down, is anyone's guess, although I heavily suspect excessive beer consumption was involved. 

Amazingly, given my injury record, I lined up to compete in this race for the 6th year in succession on an overcast, yet warm Wednesday evening. Last year I had been the first Fellandaler home in 22:42 finishing in 34th position out of 136, this year I was in much better shape and had been doing some specific short hill sprints to try to improve the speed of my climbing. that said, I decided I had no chance of beating Paul, the current leader in our club's championship as I haven't beaten him in quite a while and he has been much better than me at climbing for probably a year. Because of this I hadn't bothered to taper and had done a fairly hard week of training figuring that I wouldn't beat Paul but would probably finish second Fellandaler and pick up the points to keep me second in the club champs.

For this one I chose to wear my Altra trainers (Zero-drop, foot-shaped, reasonably flexible, heavily cushioned). Every year the steep descent and especially the tarmac section, is very hard on the feet as you slam down hard and fast towards the end of the race. Most years I have ended up with soft tissue injuries to my plantar fascia. I thought that the Altra's huge cushioning might prevent this. 

As ever, lots of people chose to wear fell shoes, which is huge over kill on the very dry paths that this race is run on.

I'm on the extreme left performing the classic nursery rhyme "I'm a little teapot" Also- fair play to Hyde park Harriers for some excellent photobombing

A slightly disappointing 8 Fellandalers turned out. I say disappointing as there were 14 last year and we've had at least 10 for the last few years.

In 2017 a few of my team mates had set off fast and some over took me going up the hill, but as the climb went on I over took them all, only Patrick, a second claimer finished in front of me (By over a minute!)

An air horn signalled the start of the race and off we went up the steepish cobbles. A sharp left at the top, then 2 sharp rights and we were at Johnny Lane, a steep and painful section of tarmac where the suffering starts. I settled in to a reasonable running pace and began to over take the people that had clearly gone off too fast. I've learned that if I go off too fast at the start of races that start with tarmac and/or flat sections, I blow up as soon as I hit the climb, so I am careful to take it a little easy.

At the top of the tarmac the path sweeps right on to a rough path, then left and up past the White house and all the while I was overtaking people.

I hit the steps in good form still and continued to power past other runners. I was actually running up the steps rather than doing a jaunty walk which would be my norm in the past.
Around 3/4 of the way up, to my surprise, I caught Paul, who was walking at that time. I was doing ok so I kept going, and moved a few metres in front before walking for a short break. The top of steps soon loomed over me though and I had enough to sprint up to the top.
A quick right at the top of the steps and the surprising undulation along the track until the final climb is always difficult to deal with. You've just expended a lot of energy to get up the steps but you feel that you should be able to get up some speed along what seems like a flat piece of path, but it's deceptive and most people trudge along. I couldn't seem to get a great rhythm going, but I was going along quickly enough.
I soon came to the left turn to go up through the short, sharp, climb up through the bushes where there is usually a bottle neck and it can be frustrating if people are walking as there is no way to pass. This time I arrived with no one else around so I bounded up the path. At the top Martin was taking a video.
"Where's Paul?" I asked him. he didn't respond, so you can audibly hear my slightly manic second shout  of "WHERE'S PAUL?" on the video. "Can't see him" Martin answered. he wouldn't have been able to see too far through the bushes but I was satisfied that Paul wasn't right up behind me.
A little trot along a rocky path to where Debi had positioned herself at the bottom of the short, rocky final climb up to surprise view with her camera:

Along the summit at surprise view, then plunge the 900ft back to station road.

Thanks to Anne Akers for this excellent picture

Now it was time to see if my plan of wearing the hugely cushioned Altras would help on the descent.
A quick sprint across the top of surprise view, a sharp left-hand bend and soon on to the rocky path.
The altras were were doing a fine job, I came down quick and hard. I still had enough left to push all the way down. Last year I had been holding off at least 3 other Fellandalers, but this year with no one else in sight I probably didn't push quite as hard.
The blessed relief of station road appeared and in the absence of rivals to race, I ran in hard without really sprinting as I've done in the past whilst trying to beat other runners.
And now the good news: My fastest time in the 6 years of doing this race and by far my best climb.