More parkun days

A Halloween parkrun day

07:15 Thy alarm calleth and that right soon
07:20 Stumble to bathroom. Certainly have appropriate bedhead hair style for Halloween run
07:25 Set off truly MA-HOO-SIVE pot of coffee
07:35 Put on skeleton onesie over shorts and tshirt
07:45 Infusion of life-giving substance: Coffee!
08:14 Ask Sally sat nav to take me to Brighouse. Idly wonder why it's pronounced Brigg-house instead of Brig-us which would at least be consistent with bizarre West Yorkshire dialect
08:15 Sally sat nav (Who has clearly had a stroke) pronounces it Bry-gouse
08:15 Sally sat nav says destination Bry-gouse will be reached at 08:47. Hope the car park is near!
08:17 Select "Unwell" by Matchbox 20 on stereo
08:20 Skoda DJ plays "No Alarms" by Radiohead. Cheeky little monkey
08:48 Pull up outside Wellholme park, Brighouse. Can already see parkrunners milling around. None seem to be in fancy dress. Uh oh
08:49 Get out of car to find witch and another skeleton getting out of 2 cars in front. Phew! "Least I'm not the only pillock" I remark. "Oh definitely not" says the witch. "There'll be plenty of us"
I ask where nearest toilets are as feel ominous belly rumblings. Pointed at Tescos in distance. hmmmm, bit too far!
09:00 RD urges us to take free brandy snap at end as he doesn't want to take it home!
09:03 Various witches, ghoulies, skeletons, draculas etc set off on a parkrun!
09:05 Feel like am running in treacle. Legs won't move
09:07 Legs beginning to loosen off
09:09 Keep calm belly.....keep caaaaaaaaaaalm
09:12 Am actually over taking people
09:15 Running along, not pushing myself. Listening to my breathing. Got 10k tomorrow so no racing today!
09:17 Glance down at watch. Says am doing 4:01 per k. It must have had a stroke too, although have been over taking quite a few people...
09:20 Cruise through line. Unbelievably have run 20:36 at only 70% effort!
09:21 Partake in free Wright's & Co brandy snap!!!! Made right here in Brighouse!!
09:30 Attempt to take slow-motion videos of runners in fancy dress.
11:40 Scott, your time in position 9 today at Brighouse parkrun was 20:37. Even as a skeleton you were damnably sexy

A racecourse parkrun day

Yesterday: Sophia: What time are we leaving tomorrow?
Me: No later than 10 to 8.....

Scene fades to black...

07:00 Alarm. WTF is wrong with me?? It's my day off!!
07:05 It puts the coffee in the machine
07:10 Select Yorkshire 3 peaks tshirt. YORKSHIRE!!!
07:20 Dear, sweet, coffee, my bestest friend. I love and adore thee, you're always there for me. Ahhhh
07:30 Sophia- "What time do we need to leave?"
Me: "10 to 8"
07:40 Sit on sofa sipping coffee, fully dressed with all required kit in bag. "SOPHIA, YOU HAVE 10 MINUTES!!"
No answer from upstairs...
07:50 Me: "SOPHIA, WE NEED TO LEAVE, NOW"
Sophia: "Oh ooooooo, uuuuurr"
07:55 Me- "You are making us late, we need to leave, now!"
08:00 Sit in car waiting, banging head on dashboard
08:05 Eventually leave
08:10 Marvel and delighted at incredible sight of Red Kite wheeling over car, coming in really close giving spectacular view, right until last moment when it suddenly dives and clips top of car!!! No sign of injured bird on road?!? Think it's ok!?
08:07 Skoda Sat nav shows estimated arrival time at Catterick to be 08:52. Oh brill
08:30 A1M diversion... here we go.....what could possibly go worng?
08:35 Approaching Northallerton. Do we divert to the parkrun there? From memory it's all on grass, neither of us have suitable shoes. Decide to push on to Catterick to avoid comedy skiddy, muddy parkrun falls
08:40 For first time in years, may not be adhering *strictly* to speed limit...
08:53 Arrive at car park for Catterick racecourse after miles of twisty country roads to find lorry blocking entrance! Oh no!! Man directing truck stops it to lt us get through! TAAAA!!
08:55 Fast walk/jog to start whilst trying to strip
08:57 Hop on one foot taking off jogging bottoms etc and stuff in back pack. Look around for suitable storage. Marshal offers to transport bag to finish!! Gratefully accept :)
09:01 Hilarious RD briefing from the very charming and exotic Atmaram Dahal.
09:02 Not a dry eye in the house as very young boy receives his 10 junior milestone tshirt
09:05 Let the parkrun commence!
09:07 Unsurprised to see 2 juniors sprint in to lead as 2 j11-14 ran under 18 minutes last week
09:10 Random thought- Is parkrun at racecourse still not a race? (Don't answer that, it's a joke!!)
09:11 Over take all but one of the juniors that set off sprinting from start
09:12-09:25ish Concentrate on staying bouncy, keeping my form and not dying
09:20 Triumphantly (not really) pass very bouncy chap who had over taken me much earlier. He is very bouncy with very large arm movements, he looks like he is sprinting

Watch has been showing less than 3:52 per/k average- On for my first time under 19 minutes at a parkun!!!!
09:22 End is nigh, just need to keep going!!! 30 seconds to cover the last straight and go under 19!!!!
09:23 Watch bleeps for 5k with probably 100m to go, bugger! That means the average speed is wrong! JUST GOOOOOOO!!
09:2?? Cross line in cloud of steam and burning rubber
Timer calls out 19!
09:23 AH F**K!
09:24 F@~K PARKRUN. F*&K PARKRUNNERS!!!! F%$K ALL RUNNERS!! F*^K RUNNING!!!!
Wait... there's free cake?!!?
09:30 Do a lap with Sophia who smashes her parkrun PB too!!
09:32 Feel stone in shoe, stop to empty them out. Discover is an actual flipping blister! OH FFS!
09:25 Free cake and tea!! I LOVE parkrun :)

10:00 Go for a wander around Richmond and buy extra special bottle of French sparkling white wine (Not from the champagne region) to celebrate PBs
10:37 Scott, your time in position 4 today at Catterick parkrun was 19:01.Congratulations on being awarded the nationwide "Sexiest" parkrunner award. Good luck in next week's "World's sexiest parkrunner" finals. We think you're odds on favourite!

A teenage parkrun day

07:00 Oh god, it's the alarm. Mum you are so stupid! Why did you set the alarm? God I hate you!
07:10 No Mum! I hate you! I'm not going! parkrun is stupid!
07:30 I'M NOT GOING! parkrun is so lame
08:00 I AM NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS BED!
08:05 DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD, tell her I'm not going!!!
08:25 From downstairs: "We're leaving!"
From upstairs, "Urrrrrgh, you WOULD leave without me too! God, I'm ringing child line. You two are abusers"
08:30 Mum, what have you done with my shorts?!!? *I* didn't put them there, what are they doing in the corner of the room?!" WHY HAVEN'T YOU WASHED ANY OF MY THINGS?!?!?
08:45 WHERE ARE MY F&^%*NG TRAINERS?
08:47 GOD! I look so fat in these shorts and they smell!
08:50 I'M NOT F£&^%*G GOING!!
08:57 Scuff shoes all the way from car to start line. Everyone looks so lame. Look at these stupid clothes
09:00 Set off like a maniac sprinting. I'm leading parkrun!
09:02 Totally knackered. I'm not finishing this, it's so stupid
09:10 Muuuuuum, I want to go home!
09:20 Dad, you'd BETTER be buying me icecream afterwards or I am NEVER doing this again!
09:35 Sprint last 200 metres. 2 minutes off my PB, I am amazing! I LOVE parkrun!
09:50 Eating ice cream with my lovely mum and Dad. They're ace, I love them. Can't wait for next week

Nostell Priory

A parkrun 15th tourist/birthday weekend/taking-it-easy-race-tomorrow day

07:30 Woken by alarm on new phone. FRIGGIN' 'ELL! Vibrate and LOOOOOUD alarm!
07:40 Put on long-sleeved top for first time in months. Sad face
07:45 KWORFEE!!!
08:15 "Sophia! Shift it or we'll be late!"
08:20 Set off for Nostell parkrun @ Nostell Priory
08:30 Skoda DJ selects "Shiney happy people" by REM. Nice one SDJ, nice one
08:35 Pass Pontefract racecourse, which is amusing, as it has it's own parkrun!
08:45 Arrive at large National Trust stately home, put spare barcode in window for free parking. Been once before for a cross country race. Probably not the same route...
08:50 Repeat slowly to myself, "I must not race, I must not race, I must not race" Tadcaster 10 tomorrow!
09:01 Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's PARKRUN!
09:02 Bit of a scrum at start, end up sprinting to get in position.
09:04 Passed by familiar sight of Terry, local cross country champ. Hard to miss with trademark mohican! Guess he'll be first finisher then!
09:05 Section of very sharp gravel+barefoot shoes= careful running!
09:05-09:10 First lap enjoying scenery and breathing in fresh air
09:10-09:21 Passed by numerous sweaty-bettys furiously chasing their PBs. Bounce gently along in all my smugness
09:25 Head back to find Sophia whilst trying to avoid electric fences down the side of paths made to keep the cows in!
09:30 Find Sophia and identify a lady in purple parkrun volunteer top to be her nemesis for today.
09:32 Sophia is overtaken by nemesis. Come on Sophia, get a wriggle on!
09:34 Nemesis says that I ought to do another lap after this one as she knows I've already finished but if I am doing it again I should do another full parkrun.
09:35 Nemesis is in front coming to final hill before finish in front of house
09:36 No amount of "motivation/abuse" will get Sophia to catch nemesis. Not sure she is taking nemesis seriously.
09:38 Inform Sophia she could be on for a PB. Motivation found!
09:40 Pat gorgeous Airdale doggy. Thanked by owner who said doggy was refusing to move until someone fussed her
09:50 Coffee and muffin demolition
10:00 Pat gorgeous dog that looks hilariously like Alsatian-corgi cross. Body of a corgi, head of an alsatian! Owners have no idea what doggy is as they are surrounded by all their lovely rescue dogs
11:51 Text message: Scott, your time in position 13 today at Nostell parkrun was 21:39. Well done on your first run here. The magnificence of our stately home pales into insignificance next to you
11:51 Text message: Sophia, your time in position 178 today at Nostell parkrun was 38:25. Well done on your first run here. You really are a very lucky girl to be going out with the best parkrunnner in the universe
36 second PB for Sophia! Jeroboam!!!!

Wetherby

A parkrun birthday. "The return of the prosecco dictator"

06:00 Woken by Sophia having conversation with cat
06:30 Woken again by Sophia having conversation with cat
07:00 Woken yet again by Sophia discussing philosophy, art and history with Bella the cat. Turns out Bella hates Gauguin and is really quite right-wing
07:10 Bella has hilarious cat cold- cutest tiny little sneezes and catty wheezing. Also- cat snot being sneezed on to sleeping human's faces
07:30 Woken by tinkly alarm. Immediately go tinkle
07:45 Coffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...bah....gum, lad!
07:50 Choose subtle "Rombald's stride " tshirt (22 miles of blood, toil, tears and sweat)
08:00 Take short trip around porcelain collection at the smallest room exhibition
08:01 Give Sophia first "AWOOGA" warning
08:30 Miraculously leave on time.
08:35 After some encouragement, Skoda DJ plays blinder with "Red morning light" by Kings of Leon, followed by "Given to fly" by Pearl Jam. Awesome!
08:45 Arrive to usual deserted park and select x-talon fell shoes for "firm going" grass course
08:50 Greeted by Joseph (World's most handsome whippet (TM) ) who feigns being pleased to see me whilst checking me out for treats (not got any with me this week) and soon returns to usual insouciance upon discovering truth
08:55 Survey this week's "competition" to see likelihood of finally completing collection of first 10 finish tokens with a No1. None of regular fast runners around. Some fit looking people. Hmmmm
09:02 pAAAAAAARKRUN!
09:02:30 LEAD PARKRUN!!!! MAYBE NO ONE "PROPER" QUICK HAS TURNED UP THIS WEEK AND CAN FINALLY FINISH FIRST?!?!!?!?
09:03. Nope. 3rd place
09:04 First lady just in front. She becomes target for today
09:06 Catching first lady, her breathing sounds laboured. Soon pass her
09:06-22 PAIN! SWEAT! LUNGS BEING SCOURED BY BRILLO PADS! 3rd and 4th kilometre collapse!
09:22 See finish tunnel appear like an oasis to a thirsty man wandering in desert
09:22 Wonder if will vomit?
09:23........Nope. Phew!
09:25 Take off socks and shoes and head off to find Sophia for barefoot lap on her 13th parkrun!
10:15 Text message: Scott, your time in position 5 today at Wetherby parkrun was 20:02. Well done for avoiding the evilness of a sub 20 time and remaining a good person for at least another week. JEROBOAM!!

Another parkrun day 14/1/17

Another parkrun day.....

That's not me, he's just a very happy bloke I happened to photograph

03:34 Woken by cat screaming whilst sitting in middle of bed
06:34 Wake up for the 14th billionth time and with a painful yet strangely numb arm.
08:00 Woken by alarm
08:02:53 Crawl to bathroom sobbing
08:10 Disaster! Discover boiler has gone off and cannot warm coffee pot before putting in machine meaning probably lukewarm coffee!!
08:15 Manage to reset boiler. Phew!!
08:20 Choose between 2013 Oslo marathon tshirt which has very little life left in it due to poor quality of printing or Trafford 10k tshirt. Plump for former
08:21 Caffeine hit!
08:29 Assault toilet
08:30 Reflect on the fact that I may have last night, somewhat unwisely, after a couple of glasses of wine, announced on facebook page that I plan to win today's parkrun by nobbling 10 other runners
08:35 Check through window to see if any police cars outside.
08:45 Leave for parkrun with relieving lack of flashing blue lights
08:47 Return to house for trainers
08:50 Select today's adrenaline inducing banging choon on car stereo- Hard to Beat by Hard-fi. Sing like loon
08:52 Arrive at Wetherby car park; now in serious hurry to get to start line on time
08:54 Whilst speed walking realise have forgotten to do physio exercises
08:55 Do some quick hip-hitches. Resist urge to sing "I'm coming out"
08:57 Strip and put on trainers etc- leave huge pile of clothing as have brought extra warm gear so can photograph runners later
09:00 Still lacing up trainers when ED announces we are about to start!
09:00:10 Realise have forgotten barcode card!
09:00:15 Get  back-up laminated barcode from sports bag and stuff in back pocket of shorts, because am genius
09:00:45 Put on other glove as sprinting away from start
09:01 Laugh as the 2 young lads that have blistered away from start line playfully shoulder charge each other as they disappear away from the rest of us mere mortals
09:02 Realise that have not tied up left trainer well enough
09:04 Realise that inov8 mudclaw fell trainers are not best choice on completely frozen mud
09:10 Settle in to tenth position
09:21:30 Realise runner behind is coming up fast as we approach finish line
09:21:35 Find killer instinct and sprint like a nutter for line to retain tenth position
09:23 Realise that cannot find back-up barcode in pocket because am def not genius
09:25 Grab camera and start snapping away at other runners
09:40 BACON!

09:50 Arrive home and find barcode stuck to inside of pocket with buttock sweat
10:29 Text message: Scott, thanks for volunteering today at Wetherby parkrun. Your efforts are greatly appreciated by us and all the runners. (They haven't seen the pictures yet!)
10:40 Head to shower to avoid "You stink" comments only to find girlfriend has put washing machine on.
11:00. Start processing pictures!
11:30 Delete worst blurry photos
11:40 Start download!
11:42 Aaaaaand, relax!
11:44 Text message: Scott, your time in position 10 today at Wetherby parkrun was 21:53. Well done. (33 seconds faster than last week. Result!)
18:00 Open magnum of prosecco

A parkrun day 7/1/17

A parkrun day...

Here's one someone took earlier. Think this was at Woodhouse moor parkrun about 3 years ago

07:50 Wake naturally 10 minutes before the alarm, result!
07:55 Put the coffee machine on
08:00 Startled by alarm going off
08:01 Choose between wearing "intimidating" ultra-marathon tshirt to "psyche" out the "opposition" or awesome cool Halloween Scarborough 10k tshirt. Plump for latter
08:10 Caffeine hit!
08:20 Violate the toilet
08:30 Check TUE certificate is still valid
08:31 Steroid inhaler
08:40 Leave for parkrun Wetherby
08:41 Select adrenaline-inducing tune "Reverend" by The Kings of Leon on car stereo and sing it at the top of my voice
08:50 Arrive at park and do incredibly camp hip exercises the physio has given me on steps in front of sports association- manage not to get arrested or put on any registers but earn some funny looks
08:55 Strip!
08:57 Pat cute doggies!
09:00 PARKRUN!
09:01 Wonder if I am going to finish behind man pushing large child in buggy
09:05 Pass buggy, phew!
09:05-09:22:26  ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!
09:26:30 Try to get brain to tell hands to hold out token and barcode. Pretty much fail
09:27 See life flash before eyes. DAMN! I eat a lot of cake!
09:28 Manage to gasp out a thank you to marshals
09:30 Laugh as large child emerges from buggy and pulls woolly hat out of eyes
09:35 Man behind cafe counter asks me "Is it raining outside?" Me: "Um no, I've just been running"
09:36 Try not to drip on cafe counter
09:40 BACON!

09:41 Post PPP bacon picture to parkrun discussion group
10:17 Text message: Scott, your time in position 13 today at Wetherby parkrun was 22:26. Well done.
10:18 Sit wondering if being 13th 2 weeks running is an odd omen especially whilst wearing 10k Halloween tshirt....
10:20 Throw trainers, tshirt and hat into courtyard after dagger looks from girlfriend
10:30 Aaaaaaaaaand relax
11:30 Eventually go for a shower because, apparently, I am "stinking out the house"

Race review:The 3 Peaks 25/4/15

Leave a comment at the end or tweet me @scott_leach

The number that barely saw the light of day

Feeling Peaky

Number 2 on this year's list of "races with whom I had a score to settle" was the 3 Peaks race. Relatively speaking, this is one of the biggest fell races of the year. I say relatively, because whilst 35-odd-thousand people would be plodding the streets of London the same weekend, a mere 802 runners (out of 1016 people that entered) would start the 3 peaks race. Last year I had entered but had failed to make it to the start line due to injury and the organisers had kindly ensured that I received my pre-paid for t shirt. Pride meant that I had worn it once or twice, but couldn't really face wearing it any more, at least not until I had actually completed the race.

The map didn't really survive entirely intact on a miserable day weather-wise

The iconic 3 peaks race has set off from Horton-in-Ribblesdale since 1975 and the race organisation is now a well-oiled machine. Sponsored by Saloman , the race "village" is set up in the field off Station road and the marshals did a remarkable job in keeping the cars moving to park in said field without letting a queue build up and bringing the tiny village to grid-lock, although I am sure that the occasional flock of sheep causes traffic chaos with build-ups of up to 8 cars on a bad day.

I had the frustrating experience of looking around the Pete Bland stall (frustrating because I didn't have money to buy anything apart from a map of the race (thought it might be a good idea rather than carry around a huge walkers map!)) before milling about in the marquee and picking up my race pack, complete with Saloman socks and a comprehensive booklet that even listed every single runner who had foolishly signed up.
The three peaks is a real runners' race and to that end, when entering you need to justify your entry by listing your previous fell running experience or "fast" road marathon time. I just had to hope that they didn't read my Sedbergh blog. They strictly enforce the cut-offs at certain check points and there are many jokes about avoiding the "Bus of shame" which transports you back to the start should you fail to meet the required times. Although I am a fiercely average fell runner, I wasn't worried about the cut-offs and felt very confident I would make them easily. The 2 hours 10 minute cut-off at Ribblehead was burned in to my mind, but in the event I was right not to worry and beat it and the other cut-offs by over half an hour.
Often, before the race, I was asked what time I was aiming for and I truly didn't know. I had not done anything quite like this race before. Sedbergh had more elevation (6000ft) but was shorter by 10 miles and the other long races I had done had nowhere near the same amount of ascent. Optimistically, my brain decided I would try to go under 4 hours. My brain is really stupid sometimes.

Rain? In Yorkshire? Never!

In true Yorkshire style, the weather was forecast to be changeable with a possibility of rain and it had rained heavily the night before the race. Not long after I arrived at the race a steady stream of drizzle started, which is excellent, because who likes these races to be easy with perfect weather? No, us fell runners far prefer to have something absolutely miserable to run in so we can suitably recall the tale for many years afterwards on stormy nights, sitting by a fire in a remote pub, dramatising the story of how we survived the great 3 Peaks storm of 2015. And in that respect, the 61st running of this race really lived up to all expectations........

Eventually we were herded in to the starting area and I was already wearing my waterproof jacket, because frankly, it was bloody freezing. Although I am a true-blood Yorkshireman, a year of living in Australia turned my innards cold and I now have to sunbathe on a rock to keep my body temperature up so I often find I am wearing far more than anyone else at a race. I decided on my Montane race vest to carry the mandatory kit (Full waterproof body kit, map, whistle, emergency food, St Bernard, chloroform and a hacksaw) with a little bit of water in the bladder and had made the tough decision to wear a long sleeved top under my Fellandale vest. I was certainly glad of the extra clothing even if it didn't keep the cold out throughout the full race.

This is my girlfriend's picture of the start of the race. I can't find a better one!

Out of the race village the race heads through the centre of  Horton-in-Ribblesdale through reasonably thick crowds before you head off up a track for the first climb of the day to the summit of Pen Y Ghent. When walking up Pen Y Ghent you take a longer route and up the treacherous stairs, the fell race route is different, however, and new to me.

I have walked the 3 peaks on 3 previous occasions, one time going round in 7.5 hours with a little bit of running. The fell race route is around 23 miles and the ascent tops 5000ft (Or 1609m which makes it almost exactly a mile of "up") So I knew this was going to be tough. The common phrase used about this race is "It doesn't start until Whernside" I only wished I knew that before I started. Someone else said "You need to show utter restraint until you have climbed Whernside" I wish I'd known that too.......

The 3 peaks of the apocalypse 

The 3 peaks itself is an odd race as there is the long 10 miles between the summits of Pen Y Ghent and Whernside that is flatish and runnable in the main, with steep ascents at either end. It's not hard to get carried away on the "easy" runnable section and end up not having enough left for the much harder second half of the race. Knowing the route well, I wasn't stupid enough to race between those first 2 summits, but neither did I take it easy.

As we climbed the first mountain the rain began to fall and the clag was down. I was glad that I was wearing my jacket and had gloves to hand (pun intended) as it was getting even colder.
To put my fell running in to perspective, Ricky Lightfoot (Winner for the last two years and a Saloman sponsored athlete) reached the top of Pen Y Ghent in 28 minutes, I took 41 minutes. Then it's a blast off the summit and settle in for the long stretch to mountain number two.

In the pack near high Birkwith (I'm 2nd from right, all in black)

In the above photo wearing number 439 is Shane Ewen. Although at this point, which is maybe 3-4 miles in to the race after the first climb, we were together, he went on to finish over 42 minutes in front of me. You should be able to work out why if you continue to read......

The long stretch to Whernside is a real war of attrition. Keep calm. eat up the miles, nothing silly, no racing (I'm sure Ricky Lightfoot and the other men at the front of the race approach it a little differently!). By the time I arrived at the Ribblehead viaduct after the short road section I felt pretty good having cruised along not pushing it at all. It just goes to show how quickly it can all go wrong.

Two down, one to go

Then it started to get tough. Too tough. First, it started to rain properly, persistently. Then I came across the first surprise of the route. I knew that the race route up Whernside doesn't go up the walkers route which is a long meandering and not-very-steep path and I also knew that it went straight up the side of the mountain, but I didn't know exactly where. A short way after the main structure of the Ribblehead viaduct you head under a tunnel and are confronted with the vertiginous face of Whernside. Or at least we would have been, had we been able to see it through the curtain of rain and fog.

Looking back at the Ribblehead viaduct in perfect weather only a few days before the race

And straight through a freaking river.

I'd like to call it a stream, but y'know, it had had a lot of water deposited in it very recently and now it started to rain much harder. So with very soggy feet we headed towards the largest mountain of the 3. If our feet hadn't been soggy from the river, they certainly would have been as we waded through the freshly-watered bog to get to the climb. Now my legs started to feel heavy. Sinking in to the marshland again and again sapped my strength badly. The climb up Whernside is horrible, even without swirling wind blowing rain in to your face. As the climb gets higher, it gets steeper and by the time you are near the top it is close to  vertical and everyone is climbing with hands and feet. Sweat was dripping off me despite the awful weather and I began to get particularly cold, but when I reached the top, I felt ok. Not brilliant, but ok. I concentrated hard: if I could get to the summit of Ingleborough in a good state then a reasonable time was on. The two hour mark ticked by somewhere on the way up Whernside. So half way in, with half the climb done, I was on for 4 hours. It didn't last.

Along the top of Whernside we passed a lot of very bemused looking walkers who were swathed in full-on waterproofs. The majority of the field around me were in shorts and short-sleeved tops, and some mad buggers were still in vests; those people must have really confused the walkers.
We plunged down the side of Whernside and headed towards the next check point at Hill Inn. As I headed down the hard-packed path I felt a jabbing in the sole of my foot. I tried to ignore it, often these things work their way out. A couple of minutes later the stabbing pain was still there and I realised I would have to take my shoe off or risk something nasty happening to the sole of my foot.. As I bent my leg to get at my shoe my calf cramped painfully. Not good. I gave the innersole and my soggy foot a good rub and couldn't feel any likely culprit for the pain. I put my shoe back on and set off, only to find the stabbing was still there. I repeated the previous procedure only to get the same result. The third time I took my shoe off I felt inside my sock and found that a small, sharp thorn had worked its way well inside. This time on replacing my shoe, I was good to go, but I had lost a fair bit of time.

Carl (another Fellandaler) greeted me at the check point with his usual reminders to eat and drink. I supped down a cup of water and set off. Other runners had taken advantage of the drinks service whereby the organisers transport your bottle from the start to a table at the checkpoint.

As soon as I hit the flag stones going toward the final ascent up Ingleborough, I began to erm.....flag.
I was over taken by the first of many runners. As I hit the slope to begin the climb, I feared the worst. I knew this was going to be a long, hard slog.
When it began to snow three quarters of the way up, the gallows humour of fell runners came out. Jokes were being made all around me. A decidedly un-Yorkshire accent popped up, "The cold doesn't bother me as I am Scandinavian, I am a Wiking" (My brother's Norwegian in-laws always pronounce it "Wiking" too.)
"Oh really?" I said, "I can always drink my Norwegian friends under the table"
"I bet they are from southern Norway"
I had to laugh, because they are! Turns out he lived in the Arctic circle. It's amazing how many times I have run in to Norwegians or found Norwegian references since my brother married a girl from Larvik.

The conversation with several runners carried on for a while and it was fantastic to have a distraction from the pain. It was so successful in fact, that the summit came much quicker than I expected. So in the teeth of a biting wind and a snow storm, I began the final run in to Horton. The path back to Horton can seem like a very long way when you're finishing the 3 peaks, but I knew that it was very runnable. Looking at my watch, however, I knew that the possibility of a sub-4 hour time had disappeared as I had crossed the valley to Ingleborough. Now my aim was just to finish in a reasonable state.

It didn't end well

Not long after arriving at the bottom of Ingleborough, the only other Fellandaler running that day caught me and over took as I was walking. Alison has completed the 3 peaks race something like 16 times and was looking very, very strong. She was so focussed she passed me without recognising me. We had run the last leg of the Ian Hodgson mountain relay together last year and I know she is a very strong runner and is a fast descender. She is also a member of the Bob Graham club. Her only downside is a fairly average top speed on the flat. I started running again and caught her quickly, "Hello" I said, "Looks like you'll be retaining the Fellandale 3 Peaks trophy again" She was surprised to see me as Carl had told her I was at least 5 minutes ahead at the Hill Inn check point and had expected me to finish way in front of her. "5 minutes isn't much when you're dying", I said.

It wasn't long before I was walking again. I gave myself a talking to. "You can't walk these flat sections- look at this path, you should be flying"
26 miles in to the Haworth Hobble I had suddenly had a huge burst of energy and had finished the final 6 miles at quite a pace. I had been hoping that it would happen again today, but it wasn't to be. That said, the talking to worked for a little while and I set off running again. I soon caught Alison and over took her, then opened up a small lead, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep this up with around 3 miles to go. I was hoping I would open up enough of a lead that I might still finish in front of her, but it wasn't long before I was forced to walk again and saw Alison was not far behind me and she passed me for the final time.

I plodded on towards the finish just trying to keep running. The walkers' route in to Horton takes you via the train station. I knew this would involve an extra loop around station road to the finish, so I was really hoping the fell route took a short-cut somewhere. To my relief, we ducked into a short tunnel then straight through someone's back garden- literally, I am not joking! Right across their lawn! And the finish field was in sight.

I was finishing in a small pack of runners and for some odd reason I decided I didn't want to lose any more places considering just how many people had over taken me on the run in from Ingleborough to the finish so I managed a "sprint" of sorts through the line.

Note to self: Remove ridiculous buff-twat-hat BEFORE entering the finishing straight

Afterwards I was exhausted, soaking, freezing and weirdly emotional. I was glad to lean on Sophia in the marquee. For a brief second I felt tears rising up. Then I remembered I am a fell runner and pulled myself together. My hands were so cold I had lost a lot of the ability to grip. I managed to plod off for my complimentary food included in the entry price and was extremely disappointed to find out that the only hot-food option was a chilli con carne. Why do people not understand that there are a lot of us who can't stand chillies? I was about to refuse it when I realised that I could give it to Sophia, it also did a very good job of warming up my hands. I begged extra cheese so I could make a sandwich out of that and the bap we were given. Grabbing a cup of tea I landed back at a picnic table and chatted with other runners, all of whom looked in much better condition than me. Often during a long race I fantasise about a beer at the end of the race, but find when I finish that it is the last thing I want. Today though, I chugged happily on a beer after the cup of tea.
I congratulated Alison on another 3 peaks finish and for retaining the club trophy. Her husband, Ian asked me what happened. I could give no more explanation than I had hit the wall after Ingleborough.

The most disappointing part of the race was looking at the stats, above. I had lost 111 places between Ribblehead and the finish which gives you an idea of how badly I faded. Alison eventually took 6 minutes off me over the last 3 miles.

The official stickyfoot

I knew I should be happy with my "2nd class" time on my first attempt at the race (A 1st class time is under 2 hours 40) but it felt like a failure, mainly because of my atrocious finish. Still, over 1000 runners had entered the race,  802  had started, 701 had finished and I had made it through the line in 450th position. Not great, but not terrible.

As my legs and hands came back to life a little, I headed off to the changing area to peel off the soaking wet clothes that were stuck to me- always an interesting experience under a towel in a tent.
As an amusing aside; Sophia bought me the t shirt of the race on the day as it's not included in the race entry. A couple of weeks later, the one I had forgotten that I had ordered when I entered the race arrived in the post.....

Going Ultra for Mountain Rescue: Trollers Trot and The Haworth Hobble 2015

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So begins yet another story of willy-nilly signing up for races

Most runners have some "unfinished business" whether it be a race you didn't perform in or one that you didn't make it to the start line of. I have more than one, but the dragon to slay this year was the Haworth Hobble (32 miles and 4400ft) after injury prevented me from toeing the line last year and completing my first ever ultra-marathon. Of course, if I'd got injured whilst out running and couldn't make it home Mountain Rescue would have saved my sorry life which is a very comforting thought.
To make things worse, last year I had bought the t-shirt in advance and the organisers kindly sent it to me when I failed to show on the day. Pride prevented me from ever wearing it. A difficult 2014 spent mainly trying to regain past strength, speed and endurance meant that my first ultra marathon seemed horribly distant only a few months ago, but in a fit of optimism (and probably booze, yes it was almost certainly booze) I signed up for the Hobble again for 2015. I will admit that signing up for Trollers Trot (25 miles and 2400ft) taking place the weekend before wasn't exactly part of the plan and also, I don't really plan. But Oh well, I thought, if it goes mammaries skyward, the amazing volunteers of Mountain Rescue will save me.

5 weeks before the big race I took part in Rombald's stride. At 22 miles and 2400ft it seemed perfect training for the Hobble, however, it didn't go well....... To cut a long story short, after a good mid-section I blew up badly and ended up finishing at a crawl. Turns out I had been brewing a stomach bug during the race and ended up very forcibly ejecting the contents of my stomach and bowels over the next 12 hours. But enough of that.

Trollers Trot: 7/3/15

Fast forward a few weeks and I lined up for Trollers trot. Once again at a race, I was under prepared, under trained and worried.

Brave faces at the start

Having been stupid enough to sign up to a 25 miler one week before attempting my first ultra, my plan was simple for both races- survive; just get round in one piece and call Mountain Rescue if it all went wrong (Not frivolously of course, only if in real need, only idiots call the rescue services without good reason)

At Rombald's stride I had gone out like I do at most races; trying to feel my way and listening to my body. The trouble is my body was in a bad mood and wanted to punish me for daring to wake it up early on a weekend. Its voice that day sounded like Dot Cotton, if she smoked twice as many cigs.

The day of Trollers I committed one of running's deadliest sins and was wearing a new pair of trainers with only around 10 miles on the clock. As anyone who has ever read a running magazine knows, wearing something new on race day will almost certainly result in you having a major brain aneurysm and/or breaking all your leg bones resulting in having to call out Mountain Rescue to ensure you arrive at hospital safely. That's if it didn't bring on the very apocalypse. I had intended to run this race in More Mile Cheviots as they have a great fell shoe grip combined with the perfect amount of cushioning in them. Sadly, their notorious chocolate-chip-biscuit-strength uppers died after less than 100 miles during Romabald's stride and had split wide open.

They're dead Jimmmmm!!

Cue desperate search for a new pair of trainers to wear. Inov8 X-talons would be way too minimal for me at the moment for this kind of distance. Luckily I spotted that Nike had brought out a version of their flex road shoe in a trail version and they were on sale at Go Outdoors. Using my NHS discount I snapped up a pair and after 10 off-road miles in them, I decided they would probably do for Trollers and hopefully the Hobble. Brave or what? But obviously, not as brave as the amazing men and ladies of Mountain Rescue.

To Do? No thank you!

With only ten minutes to go, I discovered my asthma inhaler was empty, because I'm a genius like that; so off I sprinted back to the car. I had decided not to use the toilets earlier when I saw that the queue stretched back in to infinity, but on return from the car I knew it wasn't going to wait. Luckily everyone was now milling around outside rather than in the bogs so I was able to sit 3 inches from the floor on the primary-school-child-height loos. Had I got stuck in one, I am sure I could have called Mountain Rescue to pry me off it (No doubt with a large comedy POP)
The milling outside turned in to moving on the command of a quiet "Go" from the organiser and we were away, looking absolutely nothing like a herd of African gazelles.

No, I had no idea what I looked like in the buff hat, do you think I'd have been wearing it like that if I did?

I decided to take Trollers as easy as I could to see if preserving energy was the way to go after the disaster that was Rombald's. For the first 10 miles this seemed to go very well. I trotted along with Adrian, chatting and laughing and generally enjoying a lovely day out. We merrily passed through fields and paths, up and down dale, over, around and through puddles and the miles melted away.
At 18ish miles, we spotted Simon up ahead, much to my surprise. I may have the beating of Simon over short races, but certainly not over anything long or with lots of ascent. In a further happy coincidence we had caught him at the "Fellandale check-point"

The race organiser, Paul Shack had very generously offered to donate £45 to charity for each volunteer runners found. Another Fellandaler, Carl Prendergast had spotted this, and being the very Yorkshirest of Yorkshiremen, he offered to volunteer; never being a man to turn down the offer of summat for nowt. I roped in Debi and we had a Fellandale checkpoint! Paul further enhanced the donation to Mountain Rescue by topping the donation up to £100 as a reward for getting the volunteers on board so quickly.

I shouted to Debi to get her camera out so we could get a Fellandale group photo, but Simon and Adrian kept going after a brief drink of water and some biscuits so all we got was this shot of us running away with me looking especially "special" in my buff twat-hat with the world's largest bum-bag. At least it made my arse look small in comparison.

At that point I felt ok, no real niggles and I felt I had plenty of miles left in my legs. I was wrong, very, very wrong.

As the last few miles wore on, my thighs and hips got tighter, and tighter. Before long they were agony. Simon and Adrian gradually pulled away from me. By the time I hit the last stretch along the river, I was miserable. Moving in any way was painful and the last 5 miles were total misery. Runner after runner passed me as I shuffled along. If I stretched out for a minute I could run for about 2 before the tightness returned. So I hobbled and grumbled and bimbled through to the finish, occasionally wishing that the amazing Mountain Rescue would rescue me rather than saving their expertise on people in genuine trouble.
At the tables in the cafeteria later, Adrian took this cruel shot of me stretching near one of the tables:

I had finished in under 4 hours, but the torrid time I had endured between 20-25 miles did not bode well for a race in only 7 days time with 7 more miles tagged on the end and 2000 more feet stacked on the top.

The main event: The Haworth Hobble

The Haworth Nobble

20 minutes after the end of Trollers trot the tightness in my thighs and hips had subsided and I felt fine, which gave me a plan for the Hobble- should the cramps come on again, I would stop for 20 minutes and lay down and/or have something to eat. One of the runner's home remedies of which I had oft heard tell was to eat something salty when the cramps came on, so I emptied a packet of salted cashews into a zip-lock bag.
Taking it easy certainly hadn't worked at all in the last couple of long events, so the new tactic was to run how I felt at my natural pace and hope to get as far as I could before the wheels fell off, I blew my big end and the windscreen wipers started making a squeaky sound.

I was quite surprised by the size of the crowd gathered in the small school hall a little way from the main street of the beautiful village of Haworth. Haworth is best known as the home of the Bronte sisters and is a Mecca for fans of the Bronte's books and also for fans of small gift shops, cafes, chip shops and pubs.

This is what I had to "look forward to" The route looks oddly like the monument on Stoodley pike

My friend Tom also had unfinished business with this race. Last year he had finished behind Simon and outside 6 hours and this year he wanted to put that right. Simon couldn't run this year, but the sub 6 hour time was Tom's target. As I said, I had no target other than finishing. but Simon spurred me on a little when he was sceptical that I would get near 6 hours.
Debi picked us up bright and early and I was very grateful that I would have a lift and also photos from Debi to document my first ultra.

The race itself starts on the cobbled street in the centre of Haworth whilst bemused tourists look on.

That bloke's not actually running in denim- it's just denim-look shorts. Weird eh?

And remember, when starting your first ultra, or hell, any ultra, it's very important to do a monkey impression. Start as you mean to go on, I say.

That's Tom in the orange next to me

For the next 13 miles (You don't really want to hear all about them do you?) Tom and I ran together. We headed out of Haworth, around to Widdop reservoir where half the field went one way around it, and half went the other. Down we went to Hurstwood reservoir and along the dam.Somewhere along here I was disappointed to be over-taken by an older lady.When it turned out that that lady was Nicky Spinks (She is about to attempt to knock enough time off her Bob Graham round time to claim the all-time record (i.e. men and women) for the lowest cumulative time for the Bob Graham, Paddy Buckley and Ramsay rounds) I have to admit I felt a lot better.

Tom photobombed my photo. He's such a child. Lol. #yolo wtf?! lmfao

At about 13 miles I stopped for some fluids and a biscuit at a check point and Tom went off in front. He soon disappeared into the distance and I let him go as I knew I needed to run my own race.
The route headed up a long, steep hill near a wind farm and I forced myself to walk up it. I found that I had to force myself to walk many of the up hills during the race that I was capable of running as I didn't dare waste too much energy running them. I look forward to the day when I am conditioned well enough to not worry and run them.

This photo doesn't do justice to the steepness of this hill, honest

Whiskey Galore!

A few miles later I made my way down to the youth hostel at Mankinholes for the infamous whiskey stop. I had been told about the whiskey stop many times and Simon, who is known in some circles as an evil genius and in yet more circles as just "Simon", offered me an extra donation to Mountain Rescue if I partook of the whiskey. At 18.5 miles in to the race it didn't seem like the greatest idea, but what the hell, it was for charidee.

Sadly, the kind volunteer that responded to my request to be an impromptu cameraman cut off the beginning of the video where I said "I hate you Simon Franklin" and the end where I say "Ooooh, it's a Talisker"
In a not totally un-illegal way, a child of around 14 was dolling out the whiskey shots and was filling the shot glasses to the brim. The shot tasted great........... for about 5 seconds, before it landed at the bottom of my stomach like a brick. Luckily, it didn't make me ill enough to require Mountain Rescue.
It was about that time that I looked up to the monument on Stoodley Pike atop a very large climb.

As I made my way up I lost sight of the snake of people in front of me so just followed my nose. I have to admit I chuckled when I realised a lot of people had followed me as I went awry and ended up scrambling up a steep grassy bank with probably all of them cursing me.

As you can see from the above photos, Debi was lurking in the monument documenting the day. I had suggested she station herself there thinking that a photo of the monument with the landscape behind it would make a great photo. What I didn't realise is just how damned large the monument is and also, I didn't realise that the wind would ensure a wind-chill factor of minus a cajillion degrees which as we all know can cause hypothermia, a condition that Mountain Rescue are trained to deal with. So all in all, these were great photos.

I pottered down the hill in to Hebden bridge and started to run along with the guy in green in the photo below

He told me he had run the race several times and had done it in under 6 hours last year. Not only that, he was also born in Hebden bridge. Handy, I thought, at least I won't get lost. So it was hilarious when we managed to miss the steps in Hebden bridge as we began the climb up to Heptonstall and ended up on a short detour around the road route instead. We ran along together chatting for a few miles before I headed off in front of him.

Take a hint: Donate to Mountain Rescue you Tight Get

I had begun to suffer at around mile 20 and had a feeling of foreboding. Would I end up cramping like I had at Trollers? I couldn't imagine covering 10+ miles in that state, 5 miles had been bad enough. Each time I felt the cramps coming on, I slowed to a walk and ate some salted cashews and each time, after a few minutes, the cramps subsided. That said, I felt like I was running a razor edge wondering if I was going to blow up badly. Of course, if tiredness at this point had caused me to fall and break a leg, Mountain Rescue would have come out to me. I am really not sure if there is any real evidence to suggest that salt actually stops cramps, and I really don't want to fall in to confirmation bias, but it did seem that each time I ate some salted cashews, the cramps went away. Of course, the mere action of slowing down and having some food and drink may have been what stopped the cramps.

Then all of a sudden, I began to feel good. The aches and pains were melting away. I started to speed up. Looking at my watch I could see that I had around 6 miles left and just over an hour left to go under 6 hours. I felt a real boost from this info. Then I got another boost; I caught up with Tom.

As I was careening down a small gulley, I spotted Tom in front going through a gate. I have to admit, it felt good. If I had caught Tom, it meant I was doing pretty well.
As I caught him I attempted a breezy hello.
" 'Ow do Tom" I said, in what must have sounded like a sarcastic tone. He looked around and saw me.
"Ah shit!" he said.

I flew past him. Later on, he told me that when he saw how well I was moving, he knew he would have no chance of keeping up. He was even flattering enough to say I looked like one of the elites. I didn't of course, unless one of the elites had decided to do a monkey impression.

The fairly new Nike trainers at the end; well and truly broken in

I now had that sub 6 hour time in my sights. I was running freely with no real pain. I started to over take a lot of other runners, which was lucky as I had no idea where I was going and seeing other runners appear in front was keeping me on the right track.

Now I recognised the paths above Haworth. I passed around Penistone hill and to my delight, Naomi, another Fellandaler had turned up. She took some photos and jogged along for a bit with me, giving me a mouthful of lucozade. It was another real boost to see her.
On the way down I fell in to step with two other runners, but soon I was leaving them behind. Unfortunately, I still didn't know where I was going for the end of the race so I stopped once or twice to let them catch up so I could ask directions.
Then I hit on an idea. "You know" I said to them, "We've got about 15 minutes to get in to Haworth to come under 6 hours"
"Really?! We thought that had gone. Right!"
And so they sped up.

The End is Nigh

The church in Haworth appeared and I knew it was only a short trot from there back to the school, and yet it still hadn't crossed my mind that I was going to make it. Knowing my luck, I would fall on the cobbles in Haworth and have to call out Mountain resc......... actually, to be fair. I'd probably call an ambulance if I fell in Haworth.

We popped out onto the main street of Haworth to the stares of really confused tourists. I nearly missed the steps that would take me down to the school, but the helpful runners behind me made sure I went down them. As I crossed the busy road over to the school, it finally hit me that I was going to finish this thing. I was going to be able to call myself an ultra runner! A huge smile spread across my face.

Just outside the school gates. Don't try pelting down a drive through a primary school at any other time. They don't like it

In one final attempt to go the wrong way, I nearly headed down the drive before I was pointed the right way by a runner who had already finished.

I had done it! And my final time?

I went in to the packed school feeling like a Friday night roll-over win. I didn't feel like eating but I tucked in to a couple of cups of tea. All around me people knew nothing of my triumph, because almost all of them had experienced it for themselves, some many years ago and some many times over.

This year I didn't want to tweak the nipples of fate again by buying the t-shirt in advance so I was really pleased to find out that they were selling them on the day and also, that they were much nicer than last year's all black affair. This year's also have the date on them.

After stripping behind the door in a corridor (Also not something to try in normal circumstances in a primary school) I was even in a good enough state to wander around Haworth with Debi and have a pint of Guinness in one of the fine local hostelries.

Damage Report

Incredibly, I sustained very little damage in this heavy assault on my own body. No blisters, not even any hot spots. My legs were a little sore but that soon subsided over the next few days. The recovery run a couple of days later saw off most of the soreness for good. The muscles in my feet were the main cause of concern, but by the end of the week, they were fine too. So much to my surprise, I had managed my main goal; surviving intact.
At 2 minutes 10, this video will remove any doubt that I run like a monkey:

And the fund raising for Mountain Rescue? Over £400!! Get in!

Great Whernside Fell Race: 25/10/14

Leave a message at the end or tweet me @scott_leach
Many thanks to Debi Nicholson and Woodentops for the photos in this blog

Be warned- this blog will contain scathing comments about these "fell running" trainers. (Sorry about the hairy legs)

A Strangled analogy

If the whole of the sport of amateur running were a cake, the icing would be races like the London Marathon and the Great North Run. But not nice icing like your granny would make; cheap nasty icing on a cake manufactured in a soulless, windowless factory on an industrial estate and sold in the budget section of a major supermarket, albeit cheered on by an enthusiastic and wonderful crowd. The sponge would be local charity races that are now the norm in most major city centres; nice and fun if you like that sort of thing. The filling, however, well the filling would be fell racing. Buried deep and hidden in the other layers it would surprise you with its sudden, sharp, amazing flavours. Then it would immediately glue your teeth together and deposit seeds in places that are impossible to reach. And one of the jammiest, sweetest and seediest of these races, is the Great Whernside Fell Race.

Breaking with tradition I actually had a bit of a nosy of what this race entailed before I set off for it and discovered it involved running from a farmer's field in Kettlewell, straight up Great Whernside, then back down again. And that's it. 1500ish feet and 4ish miles. It was then that the fatal thought entered my head................."That's not too bad"..............Ingleborough was 2800ft and 7 miles and that was ok, so this should be...............Easy...................

F.A.T.A.L. T.H.O.U.G.H.T.

The route really was that simple

So now on to the side story that goes with this race; the story of the shoes. So briefly, my ridiculously generous friend Debi took me off to the excellent Complete Runner in Ilkley to buy me a pair of very much needed fell running trainers for my 40th birthday last month. (You might have read about the terrible experience I had at the Sedbergh fell race with a pair of Adidas Kanadias) After a lot of time fannying around and trying on lots of trainers amusing everyone by attempting to run around the tiny shop, I decided on a pair of Salomon "fellraisers" despite the fact they look like they were made by Tescos for their value range.
A couple of weeks later I was coming down St Sunday Crag during the Ian Hodgson mountain relay when the insoles of these "fell trainers" came adrift and ended up wadded up in the toe of my shoe. Imagine my annoyance that a pair of extreme trainers had failed me on their first major outing on a potentially very dangerous path. I had experienced the same thing the year before when wearing a pair of Salomon XA 3D ultra 2 but had put that down to the fact they weren't really fell trainers.
I posted on the Fell Running Association's (FRA) facebook group and asked if anyone else had experienced detaching Salomon insoles. Within an hour a good 30 people had confirmed that they had. One poster said he was on his 8th pair of speed cross and they had all done the same. Some posters said they had superglued the innersoles in (Not acceptable to me in what are very expensive trainers). Most scarily more than one mentioned they had emailed Salomon and had not received replies or had got denials that they'd ever received complaints before.
I took the shoes back to the shop and they were very sympathetic and offered me a few options including a refund, but I wanted to know what Salomon would say so I agreed the shop could send them back to Salomon.

(B)Race (Yourself) Day

Fast forward a week and and it's Saturday morning before the Great Whernside fell race and I've arranged to pick up the shoes from the shop. Salomon have told us that they have sent new insoles and that they have "Solved the problem" The insoles looked identical to the original ones and I expressed this to one of the shop assistants. He suggested we compare them to a pair they had. They looked absolutely no different. I decided not to take Salomon for the apparently total set of bullsh***ing a*******s they were appearing to be, give them the benefit of the doubt and try the new "improved" insoles at the race.......

3/5 of the Fellandale turnout in one epic photo; we're just missing Mike and Carl

We drove through the beautiful village of Kettlewell and out to the farmer's field to park, hoping that my car would be able to pull back out of it at the end (It did).

All was reassuringly low-key as ever with a fell race, even though this particular one was part of this year's Yorkshire championship and had attracted an even more high-class field than usual. I paid my £5 to the lovely ladies managing the awning attached to the camper van and received my race number.

I chatted to another runner wearing fellraisers and he confirmed that he too had experienced the detaching insoles. There followed quite a bit of milling-around combined with a little bit of warming up before we funnelled through the finishing, erm, funnel so we could be counted by the organisers (It incurs quite a lot of paperwork when fell runners go missing) and we were ready for the off.

That's us, milling

Steepness is all Relative (A crazy relative that's in that home, the one you never talk about)

As you can see from the photo above, the start of this race is especially steep. As ever my tactics were vague, but I decided that with "only" 1500ft of ascent I should be able to run/power walk all of the ascent, after all, I had done that at Sedbergh for the first hill which was a similar height.
I soon discovered how wrong I was.
Just before the start Carl had shouted to me, "Stick with him" whilst pointing at Adrian. "No chance" I had replied. Last year Adrian and I had been neck-and-neck, but since then I have spent a year trying to return to my previous fitness following an "epic face-plant" as the kids would say. I have been getting closer to Adrian all year, but am still not challenging him just yet, and up a hill, I have never been able to stick with him.
My memory has blocked out how far I got before I began to walk, but I know it was a disappointingly short distance and people began to over-take me, something that would continue for the whole ascent.

Early in the ascent, whilst I was still running, with my thumbs up, of course

Mercifully the first hill wasn't too long and it flattened out for a little while. When I say "flattened" of course, this is a relative term in comparison to the slopes of the mountains of Hades.
Picking a suitable path is a real trick in this race that I really didn't get right. Trying to be clever I strayed off the path several times and each time regretted it. I simply don't have the local knowledge to pull it off and at the first really boggy section, I came, as we say in Yorkshire, a "cropper".
I veered right off the path to try to avoid what appeared to be a bad section. The runner in front had done the same and had landed in a fairly soggy patch so I veered even further to avoid it.
Total disaster. My left leg plunged deep in to a bog and I sank up to my waist. For a second I was genuinely scared; this bog was deep and very wet. I flung my body forward praying that the ground in front would hold my weight while I army-crawled out. It did, just.

Just in case you were wondering, this picture illustrates that fell running ain't easy

Now we entered the meat of the race. The relentless uphill trudge to reach the fun bit where you get to fling yourself down the hill in less than half the time it took you to get up. By half way up I was blowing hard. With a third of the ascent left I was gone. My power hike had turned in to a limp.
I always get my excuses in early, but I think a couple of hard training sessions during the week had left me still tired and not quite at my best. I definitely should have been doing better than this! That said, I had Adrian in my sights for most of the ascent, but eventually lost him.
Now I was beginning to look for the leaders. I knew I would be no-where near the top until I saw them coming down but they were taking an achingly long time to appear. I am sure more than one runner was fooled by the large cairn halfway up the ascent but I was still quite lucid at that point and knew that it couldn't be the summit as this is a classic "up-and-down" fell race- same path both ways and we would need to see people coming down first. Also, I knew that we had done nothing like 1500ft of climbing.
Eventually we entered the mist near the top and the leaders came flying past. I always love seeing them coming down, it gives you an idea of what's possible! I really thought I must have a lot further to go when I saw them, but actually, it wasn't that bad. By now we were climbing steps and entering the clag near the top. When the top came, it surprised me, I thought we still had a fair way to go. The runner in front was extremely cautious going around the craggy top and I began to itch to get past him.
The minute I started to descend I flew past the cautious runner and the insoles in my shoes detached and began to make their way to the front of the toe box. Salomon had lied to me and it hadn't come as a surprise. They had taken me for a total **** and thought I wouldn't notice when they replaced the useless insoles with identical useless insoles.

Don't Keep off the Grass

The wonderful thing about this race is the grippy, grassy slopes by the side of the path on the way down. It was time for "Brakes off, brains off" and man, did I turn my brain and brakes off. I felt like I was flying. I was really picking up speed and the runner behind me soon disappeared. At first there were no runners in front of me and I could see a long way in front. I was amazed when I saw runners begin to appear in my sight and I was catching them. I was descending much quicker than the people around me and I was picking them off. With each one I passed I eyed the next in front of me.

A lot of the mud had actually come off when this was taken

Around 3/4 of the way down I veered to the right of the path again to try to avoid yet another wet stretch. Again, it was a mistake. This time my right foot plunged in to a bog. I was grateful it was only mid-shin this time and I yanked at my leg to pull it out. It didn't budge. I yanked again.Still stuck. On the 4th huge yank, it eventually popped out. At least salomon's quick release laces are good (Inov-8 take note)

There are a couple of flattish sections at the bottom and across those I lost time as I was beginning to tire, but the field that Debi had ensconced herself in was perfect for more running sans brains and brakes which meant I was moving so fast she could barely keep me in the frame........

Just kidding, she got loads of shots of me in the frame before this last one

The end of the race was back down the very steep field and at the very last few feet there is a steep drop. Like the idiot I am, I decided to show-off and take a huge leap off this slope.

I utterly failed to land the jump and in front of 70 odd fell runners, I army-rolled through the finish line to a chorus of "Ooooooos" I bounced back up, unhurt for once and laughed to try to save face. When I stood up I wasn't quite sure if I had finished or if I needed to go down the whole finishing funnel, so I sheepishly trotted down it.

Afterwards I join the other runners washing themselves in the stream. At least I had won the bog-mud-transporting prize by managing to carry a whole wheelbarrow-full down to the bottom in my shoes and clothing.

Adrian had, of course, finished in front of me in 54th position a shade under 40 minutes. I came in 75th in 42:18 out of a field of 157. I was reasonably pleased to have finished just in the top 3rd of a Yorkshire champ race even if I was disappointed that I had ascended much slower then I was capable of.

On the way home I went straight back to Complete Runner. With their usual wonderful customer service they sympathised with me and offered a refund. I told them that was very nice of them, but I needed fell shoes and wouldn't leave the shop until I found a pair I liked. And here they are:

You probably recognise x-talons when you see them