Pendle fell race report 2/4/2022

 Pendle fell race 2/4/2022

If I'm honest, I'd really rather not

This weekend saw me take on another fell race for the first time, the Pendle "short race" For some reason I decided this wasn't hard enough and as the race didn't start until 2pm I set off at 08:25 to walk up to my local parkrun at the Chevin as a warm up. The walk up to the start involves a climb of a few hundred feet as does the parkrun itself. I intended to and managed to, bimble around it without tiring myself out but true to form I did manage some stupidity. I kicked a very small tree root and landed solidly on all fours. Luckily my gloves protected my hands so I didn't need to pick gravel out of them for the rest of the day, unlike my knees. I bounced back up and carried on running with the only real damage being a bit of stinging, which was obviously a lot of fun later in the shower.

A brunch of cheesy bacon sandwiches later and a tight squeeze in to my "shrinking" club vest and I headed off to the Barley hall. This is another race on my club's championship and the second on Pendle hill. There are bonus points up for grabs for running all 3 Pendle races and as I was the only one to do the first one, there's only me who can still get the bonus points. Turns out I was the only Fellandaler to do this race too. The last of the 3 races is the notorious Tour of Pendle. It's just shy of 17 miles and 5000ft of climb. I have done it twice and both times were a disaster. The first time my knee went very badly and I had to walk/limp the last 3 miles or so as every time I ran I had stabby pains. Both times the final of the 6 climbs that takes in Big End has been horrific. So you can imagine my joy at seeing that this race is based around Big End. Sheesh.

My genius plan of arriving in Barley an hour before the race and finding a parking spot recently vacated by a parent driving a chid in for the earlier junior race was a very bad one. The juniors hadn't left. I ended up parking right at the top of the hill nearly a mile away. Still, you generally have to park farther away if you're doing a big city road race, it's just us fell runners are a bit spoiled and expect to park quite close.

I had a browse around the Pete Bland van but when I heard my wallet screaming and crying I thought it best to go register instead of buying yet another pair of shoes. In the Barley hall I picked up the world's largest race number and pinned it on my chest/abdomen/thighs/face. The organisers had decided the required kit on the day was at "runner's discretion" Dangerous. I briefly considered a moped as my kit, but instead settled on most of the FRA kit in my bumbag minus map and emergency food. I knew there was no chance of my losing my way and if worst came to the worst I could mug another run for a gel if I really needed it.

In a return to the traditional, this particular race is a £5-only-entry-on-the-day jobby. My fear that this would be a bad idea proved unfounded as in the end there were only 198 finishers on the day. The Stan Bradshaw had been entry in advance and had sold out all 300 places in record time which had given me pause for though, but anyway, I was wrong.

This picture is me on a different day on a different race because I'm still waiting on the the photos that were taken yesterday, what you going to do, sue me?

Unlike my preparation before the Heptonstall race where I had spent 2 weeks being very careful about "the things wot I put in my mouth" this time my preparation had been sketchy and that's not even including the lack of skin on my knees. So I had no idea how I would fare. Still, as long as I finished it was full club champs points for me. Nom, nom, nom. 

The race organiser gave a speech before the race that none of us at the back could hear and I gained a slight snigger from those around me when I commented "Can anyone lip-read?" Then we set off up the hated tarmac section next to the Barley hall and I had edged very far towards the back. As we started climbing the first hill I realised that I had edged so far back that I wasn't far off being last. At least this did mean that I spent the whole race over-taking people again which is something I very much prefer whilst I am fatter and slower compared to previous years. 

You know where you can stick your big end

15 minutes later I was very pleased to see the trig point at the top of the climb appear. But NO! The chaotic evil that devised this route then plummeted us back down a very long and treacherous descent to take us back to the bottom of Big End and away from the trig to attack it from a different and far harder angle.
I call the descent treacherous because it's a heady mix of seemingly all possible terrains and unreasonably steep.  I over-took A LOT of pussy-footers down this section but my smugness was short lived as close to the bottom I managed to trip again. This time I somehow stayed up-right with a swiftly planted hand. Again I was lucky that my hand landed on soft ground and so I once again kept the skin on my palm. I endured the very quick, sharp stabby pain in my lower back that is my reward each time I trip and carried on to the bottom. 

And then up I looked at Big End. Urgh

It should be illegal for contour lines to be that close together

I imagined that Big End would somehow look easier at 2ish miles in to a race rather than the 15ish miles of the full Pendle tour route, but it didn't. This bugger is steep. According to the strava segment it is a 42.2% gradient. During the tour of Pendle this hill has broken me badly both times. A lot of the time it is so steep I have resorted to climbing it on all fours. During the tour I have had to adopt a tactic of  "5 steps rest, 5 steps rest" whilst gasping for breath and dripping sweat like a P&O executive.
I can't say I strode up Big End yesterday feeling great, but I was able to give it some power hiking for a lot of it and continued to over-take a few people. The thought that it was all down hill from the top of Big End kept me going and made it easier. Thank goodness for that "total accumulated climb" on my watch telling me that the climb was nearly over. According to strava it took me 8 minutes 44 seconds to climb Big End. I assure you, it felt like 8 hours 44 minutes.
 A quick "sling-shot" around the trig and it's all down hill back to the Barley hall. By this time I could feel my ham strings tightening and I spent some small amount of time pondering if I should slow down or walk to prevent them going twang. I didn't of course.

After going past a few more people I found myself running alone with a bit left in my legs to push a little faster along the horrible tarmac with the soles of my feet heating up to burning point by the time I went through the finish line. My time was 48.21 which was somewhat faster than the estimate I had given myself before the race. 

I spent some time patting and making a fuss off all the doggies milling around the Barley hall before trudging off back up the hill to my car.

No, I did not win either of these trophies for 123rd place and I didn't steal them either, although I am not sure why not.

Mental health note-

I felt shocking all day. It took a lot to drag myself out of bed and get up to the parkrun and I left quickly afterwards. Same with the fell race. I usually stay and watch the presentations with a cup of tea and a slice of cake from the Barley hall kitchen but I couldn't face it. I spent most of the day just looking forward to when I could settle down on my sofa with the excellent bottle of malbec that was waiting for me. The only positive I can take here is the fact that I am still manging to function and do the things I would normally do while I am feeling awful. That's something I suppose

The Tour o' Pendle. 18/11/17

Tweet me up @scott_leach

I knew this one was going to hurt and it didn't disappoint...

 Which Witch?

The classic Tour of Pendle fell race is generally acknowledged to be one of the hardest on the calendar at about 17 miles and nearly 5000ft of ascent with many boggy sections, very steep climbs and descents and the infamous drop that is "Geronimo" I knew this was going to be a very, very tough race.

Recently I've been running well, the last two weeks I've done 2 fell races and my climbing is the best it's ever been; finally I can run up hill for a good distance without wanting to vomit or finding religion, but unfortunately, 2 weeks ago I started with an achy left knee. After a decade of knee pain, I hadn't had any in about 5 years since I got some excellent physio treatment that corrected my mis-tracking knees, so to start suffering again came as a surprise.
   I had done the Shepherd's Skyline race with no real issues on the Saturday and on the Sunday I popped out for 10 miles on the road. Sure, my quads were a little sore, but nothing else. But later that evening my knee started to get achy. Nothing too dramatic, but enough to be a pain. I didn't do much running during the week then I headed out for the Burley Moor fell race last Saturday and I did pretty well. However, afterwards the ache turned painful, like a toothache, so I stopped running, trying to save myself for Pendle. By Saturday it felt ok, providing I didn't want to completely bend my knee or do any deep squats. I spend a lot of time at work on my knees (Bandaging patient's legs, get your mind out of the gutter) which didn't help. I considered pulling out of Pendle, but I'm nothing if not stupid and stubborn and I really wanted to do the race to make sure I had a qualifier in for the 3 peaks. Also, I desperately need to improve my climbing over 3000ft. As soon as I hit that magical 3k foot mark in a race, I tend to deflate like a football kicked in to a garden owned by the neighbourhood grumpy old man with a hunting knife.

My moob. I know you were dying to see it

Anyways, Sophia and I arrived in Barley about 45 minutes before the race, thinking we would be very early, but in fact the cars were already parking along the road probably a mile out of the village. Pendle attracts 500 runners in a sell-out making it one of the most popular fell races of the year.

A Bit of Shopping

I made my way to the Pete Bland stall and was relieved to find that they had a healthy supply of the waterproof race map. I really didn't fancy carrying around my laminated copy of the low-resolution map printed from the website and an OS map with the check points pencilled in. If the clag came down and I got separated from other runners it could be very, very easy to go entirely the wrong way and end up in a shopping park in Burnley (a fate worse than death) I also grabbed some shot blocs as my emergency food to make sure I adhered to FRA rules along with the full body cover, hat, gloves, whistle, compass, sherpa, donkey and a helicopter.

In the village hall there was no wait to pick up my number and I went about the laborious task of getting all my kit in my bag and on my person, stuffing flap jack in to various crevices. I spotted Paul and Simon from Fellandale as well as Amanda in her valley striders vest and Mike in his Kirkstall one. Unusually, we picked up our race tshirts at this point. Again, I briefly considered going home. "No, I've no idea why I'm not on the results, I definitely did it though- look at my tshirt"

My knee was feeling decidedly average, but my aim for today was just to get around, there would be no racing involved and I figured there would be a fair amount of walking and I wasn't wrong on that front.

 Like all fell races the start was low-key. We trotted along a mile or so of tarmac, then on to a hard packed trail before hitting the hills. Paul went off a little quicker than me and as my race tactic was all about preserving energy and getting round, I let him go and didn't see him again. Patrick was up front somewhere and I never did see him.

Off we went up the first hill, I settled in somewhere in between "power-hike" and "fast plod"
And then to the first descent. I deliberately took it easy, the last thing I needed was to burn out my brakes early in the race as I would definitely regret it come the last couple of descents if I did. (By "brakes" I mean my quads) Throughout the race I kept repeating to myself, "Don't burn out your brakes! Long way to go!"

Occasionally I caught up with Simon and each time he gave me helpful tips on what was coming up. The one that stuck was "The race doesn't start until Geronimo" So I needed to get there in good shape.

This was my phone recording on strava after my Garmin died. I have been unable to resuscitate it. Sad face 

Early in the race I began to get some odd feelings of discomfort in my thighs which really didn't bode well. My knee seemed to be holding up ok though, with only a mild discomfort on the way down.
Then total disaster- my garmin watch alarmed low battery. Still- never mind, it's generally got a couple of hours before low battery becomes watch shutting down...but not this time, a few minutes later it turned off, dead to the world. Then I remembered that I had my phone on me. People looked concerned as I walked for a bit starting strava on my phone and even asked if I was ok. "If it's not on strava, it didn't happen!" I replied

Geronimo!

Maybe because I'd heard all the horror stories but Geronimo didn't look half as bad as I'd been expecting when I stood at the top looking down. I snapped off a couple of photos before heading down.

Looking back at Geronimo. If you squint you can see the runners making their way down

I trotted down Geronimo not really going hard, but still over taking a lot of other people. It's important to point your toes downwards rather than turning your foot sideways, which was the mistake a lot of people around me were making. You have to trust the grip on your fell shoes and my mudclaws were coping well, despite the lugs being quite warn down on them.

At some point between there and the next climb I landed heavily in bog mud. My left leg disappeared straight down to the knee. I went to pull myself out and - Uh oh!- the shoes didn't want to come out with my foot. I curled my toes upwards and pulled again. On the third attempt it came out, but it had had the effect of pulling my heel out of the shoe which inevitably filled full of thick, smelly mud. I stopped to scrape the mud out, then stopped again to retie the shoe lace as dragging myself out had loosened it.

I was moving well up the next climb and then we hit a long, grippy, grassy downhill. I was feeling strong so I decided to take it a little quicker. I over took probably around 20 people, who were, admittedly moving pretty slowly as I was towards the back of the field. But then my knee started to hurt. The dull ache turned in to a stabbing pain on the outside of my knee. I tried to change my gait, the way I was landing, but to no avail. By the time I hit the bottom, I knew I was in serious trouble.
I spotted Amanda with a marshall, and she was standing still. "You ok?"
"No, hurt my foot"  Later I found out she'd had to go to A&E after her first ever DNF. No stress fracture showed up on the scans, but it's suspected. Hope it turns out to be something lesser and she gets well soon!

Pain

The quick descent meant I had caught up with Simon and we had a quick chat. "3 or 4 more hills from here" He said, "I can never remember how many"  I was really hoping it was 3 (it was) To my relief I found that I could go upwards without pain and I was actually moving fairly quickly and overtaking quite a lot of people. Simon was slowly moving away from me in front.

Going down the next hill was agonising. More than once a very sharp pain stopped me in my tracks and I came to a halt. At the next check point I seriously considering, dropping out. But like an idiot I carried on up the next hill. I began to over take all the people who had passed me coming down the hill, but now my knee was beginning to hurt even going up. How the hell was I going to finish this race?!

Queuing to go over a stile early in the race

After the last climb I had the incredible frustration of not being able to run on the last long, long downhill to the finish. I tried again and again to run but each time I was met with stabbing pain.
I was passed again and again by dozens of runners.

Lots of people asked if I was ok, most thinking that I was having a spectacular blow-up, so I just answered "Nope, knee's gone" Most annoying is I still had plenty of energy, without the pain I would have been charging along to the finish.

I managed to find a way to move a little faster- I just needed to keep my knee fairly straight as I bimbled along. The path down the reservoirs seemed absolutely endless. I ran (walked) in to Ted Mason. "Alright Ted, don't tell me you've already finished and are now walking it backwards"
"Nah, just off to find the missus. You bonked then?"
"I wish, my knee's gone"
Gone where though? Off to Painsville to the House of Agony, that's where.

The Pendle Hobble

I discovered that I could do a sort of double hop on my right, good leg as long as I landed with a straight leg on my left, so I managed to go a little faster in places. Eventually, mercifully, the finish line approached. By now my thighs and hips were beginning to cramp. I'm not sure whether this was due to the long slow trudge in the cold (I was now freezing, especially my hands in the wet gloves) or if it was invetible due to a lack of suitable training.

I was in a world of my own, hopping along, so much that I nearly ran straight past Sophia until she said "I thought you must be injured"
"Yep, knee's gone"
Then I hopped through the finish line.

In the village hall, I chatted to JP and gave him the thrill of his life when I slowly stripped off the layers of wet clothing whilst scoffing the bag of midget gems, dolly mixtures, cola bottles and milk bottles that I hadn't touched during the race.
Mike came through the finish not long after me. His ankle had held up about as well as my knee but he was just pleased to have got round.

Mmmmm, Betty

Man at C&A

Later I undressed in the shower to prevent me from dropping mud all over the place. Taking off the socks that had stuck to the mud, that was stuck to my leg hairs was an interesting experience. Then I scrubbed like a man possessed to remove the rest of the mud that was not in my socks and settled in to a long bath with a bottle of Desperado (Don't judge me)

Addit: I managed to retrieve the first part of the race from my garmin before giving it a burial!!