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Sunday 20 July 2014

Race Review: The Ingleborough Fell Race 19/7/14

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All running pictures reproduced by kind permission of Debi Nicholson
The Ingleton Gala Field

Ingleborough, Baby

Only a few short years ago, before I took running up again, I was a walker/rambler/hiker/fashion-criminal (Have you SEEN walking get-up?) On several occasions during that time I was half-way up some FSM-forsaken mountain, covered head-to-toe in goretex, shivering from the cold, when a bunch of nutters would come running past us in shorts and vests. Slack-jawed, us walkers would gape at them as they sweated and grunted past and we would reflect on these seemingly mentally deranged people. A few years before that I had decided out of the blue that I would climb the highest mountain in England, Scafell pike. I set off with no gear and no idea, especially if the weather turned bad. As I toiled to the top in scorching weather I watched a young guy as he ran up to the top, back down and up again in the time I managed to reach about half-way up. When I mentioned the "nutter" to some other walkers also climbing the mountain, they said he was their mate and that he was a "fell runner". I instantly forgot the term and wouldn't hear it again for many more years until I started looking for an off-road running club.


Fast forward many years and I arrived at the Ingleton gala for the classic fell race up Ingleborough. Although I have done quite a few fell races since I joined Fellandale last year, Ingleborough is one of the big ones. I have walked up and down this mountain many times, and I know that it is not to be taken lightly, in fact, the last time I climbed it, the cloud came in very close leaving visibility at a minimum despite it being perfectly clear at the bottom. I then spent quite some time circling the summit before I found the right path down again. So I knew this would be tough, I knew this was a real fell race at nearly 7 miles in length and 2000ft to climb. I was actually nervous.

A Gala Atmosphere

I arrived a couple of hours early so I could enjoy the excellent Ingleton gala. Sadly the weather forecast was bad and I needed to don a waterproof jacket as I wandered around the stalls with Debi. The poor forecast no doubt was effecting the attendance at the gala, but everyone there was determined to have a good time. The MC was giving an hilariously Yorkshire commentary telling people to "get their hand out of their pockets and get spendin'" The highlight of the stalls for me was the raptors complete with all sorts of large and small owls.
I decided to forego an attempted at wanging a welly, although I was very tempted.
Unexpectedly I bumped in to Simon from Fellandale. I say it was unexpected as he was supposed to be with his other half in the lake district doing a mini-mountain orienteering challenge. Turns out they'd blown it off due to lack of sleep. I called him a few choice names as it seriously damaged my chances of full Runner of the Year (ROTY) points and closing the gap in the race for the trophy. My chances had already been badly dented by so many months of injury.
The route- Straight up then back down again. 
Back at the gala there was an amazing trial bike display by Ben Slinger which I thoroughly enjoyed and by the time the mountain race was due to start, bizarrely, it was held up by sheep dogs herding geese. You can't make this stuff up. Wish I'd taken a photo because I am not entirely sure I didn't dream it. 

As an AM race, the new FRA rules state that emergency kit had to be carried; the first time I have ever had to during a race. Cue much furtling around in bags and cupboards to ensure I had a full waterproof layer, compass, whistle, hat and gloves. Luckily I had already bought a bum bag to carry it in. Stupidly, I had never run in the bag before and had no idea how it would effect me. At least all my kit fitted comfortable in it and the bag has adjusters to pull it tight to eliminate any bounce.  I looked around at how the other runners were dealing with the kit issue and saw all sorts of different solutions, but the most popular one seemed to be the one I had adopted. Phew. On the shoe issue, however, I didn't seem to be with the consensus. I know the paths on Ingleborough pretty well, although not from the Ingleton side, so I was a little concerned to see so many runners in really aggressively-soled fell shoes when I had plumped for my Adidas kanadias. I wondered if this would prove a mistake.

A hot dog from the local badminton club and a cup of tea from the WI later and I was ready to start.



My first mistake was to be far too casual at the start and set off right at the back of the field. Although this did mean I got to have fun over-taking people rather than being over-taken.
Out of the gala field and there is a short run through the village until you hit the lower slopes of Ingleborough.
A little way along the road, I over-took Simon and  jokingly shouted, "Full runner of the year points for me!"
I meant this entirely as a joke as Simon has been much faster than me for quite a while now and I definitely didn't expect to finish in front of him.


In it for the Long Haul

As we hit the lower slopes I had a chance to consider the bag that I was wearing like a weird victorian bushel. It felt pretty comfortable. No bounce and it felt light - the super-light Innov8 racing jacket in there hadn't been cheap, the over trousers, however, were cheap as deep-fried potato slices, but it all felt ok.

I was smart enough to know that this race would be very far from a sprint, so I tip-toed the fine line between keeping moving swiftly and preserving energy for the tougher, upper slopes. A lot of other people obviously didn't have my strategy though as I began to pass a lot of people who I can only assume had gone off too fast.
Simon had over-taken me pretty soon after I had passed him, but to my surprise I moved back in front of him not too far in to the lower slopes.

As the gentle inclines became something a little more challenging the field began to spread out. Before long, almost everyone was walking. Oddly, this is where I have an advantage, I can hike up hill as fast as a lot of the runners can run up hill and can go faster than the people walking. I only mean this about the people running at around my speed, not the winners who obviously run the whole thing much quicker than me and don't stop to walk much, if at all. 
I had been expecting the burning, scouring feeling in my lungs that I was used to, but it wasn't happening. Although I felt tired I actually felt fine. The night before at the Washburn relay, 80% of my missing fitness suddenly came back like flicking a switch after months of tough training plodding along at a crawling pace. My newly rediscovered pace seemed to be continuing here. 

Amazingly, this graph shows that I went slowly up hill, then quite fast down hill. I know, I was shocked too
The path got steeper and steeper and my left gluteus maximus (arse muscle) felt like it had grown a full set of adult teeth and each and every one of them had tooth ache. I inched up the mountain bracing my self with my hands on my thighs. Before long the leaders came flying past us but I still had a fair way to go to the top before I'd have the sweet relief of the descent (although I was fully aware the relief wouldn't last too long before the descent would start to hurt too)


The path was now steps that were treacherously slippy and they began to feel like they would never end, but at last, I saw the marshal at the top next to a tiny cairn. I didn't have time to admire the view from the top before I plunged back down. This was in part due to the fact the visibility at the top was pretty poor from the drizzling rain.


Going Down

Descending the steps was tough; I was desperately trying to keep my feet whilst moving swiftly, but I felt like I was crawling along. In a couple of places there were grippy grass slopes that I manage to get some speed up on. We came up to a section of dark gravel that looked like a cinder path, only very steep. The leaders had flown down this section as I was coming up the steps next to it. I remembered thinking there was no way I would be doing that on the way down, but as I reached it, it felt like a much better plan than the steps so down I went. It actually turned out to be a good move and not too difficult to manoeuvre on. 
A couple of times I found some good routes and really felt like I was flying. It was all I could do not to give out a war cry or two, next time I probably will!

Getting back to the lower slopes the steepness evened out and I settled in for the path home. I actually felt pretty good, well until my nipples started to seriously complain about the heavy, wet club vest I was wearing and my thighs began to complain about all the down hill.
Many thanks to racingsnakes for this image and the last one


Eventually we popped back in to the village and I could see the runner in front of me. I was still feeling pretty good, sore nipples, thighs and feet aside, and I felt that I could move a lot faster. I debated for a while as to whether it was worth chasing the guy in front down, after all, it was only one place and I was in no danger of a high finish. But what the hell, I'm nothing if not competitive. I caught him at the edge of a car park and I could see the gala field. Simon had warned me about the steep, sharp slope that brings the runners back in to the field for the finish, thank goodness. 
I always find pulling a monkey-face helps when descending
I managed to negotiate the slope without making a tit of myself and even managed to sprint to the finish. 


Not too long afterwards Simon and Carl crossed the line.

It would be ungentlemanly of me to point out that Simon was beaten by his girlfriend. Again. So I won't.

Carl managed a fine sprint to out-run a much younger adversary
Afterwards, as ever, we enjoyed de-constructing our races in a way that would thoroughly bore anyone not seriously in to running. Then the prize giving gave out so many prizes down the positions that we began to wonder if we would get one, but that didn't quite happen. 
It had stopped raining a little way before I got to the bottom of the mountain and by the time I was tucking in to junk food the sun was shining gloriously. I bought a burger from the local cricket club and basked in my *cough*glory*cough*

Damage Report

Getting in to the shower after the race on the evening the water felt like acid as it hit my nipples. Too much info?
My feet had begun to feel mashed by the end of the race, pretty much like they had been stood on, but the next day they are fine, only a little soreness remains, much the same as my thighs.

So, I survived. Bring on the next one







The Washburn Valley Relay 18/7/14

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All pictures reproduced by kind permission of Debi Nicholson
Simon, me and Mike; the Fellandale team
As is my usual trick, when I was asked if I'd like to take part in the Washburn valley relay, I immediately said yes, then promptly forgot all about it. Normally that isn't really a problem, but it fell the evening before the Ingleborough fell race. No worries, I thought, I'll just do 'em both. I've never claimed to be sensible.

Under Starters orders

The relay is over three legs, and here they are:

After a quick discussion, we decided that Simon, as the fastest runner, would do the longest leg (the middle one) Mike would start us off and I would do the final leg.
Just after the start as the field makes its way across the causeway

The relay was carried out in a great atmosphere with everyone cheering their team mates on loudly. The abilities of the teams varied greatly from racing snake to snail.

Each of the 3 legs ends cruelly up a short, sharp hill and pride cut in time and again with the runners as they did their best to make a good showing for their team mates.

Here's Mike on the first leg

Great fun was had watching the first leg runners coming in up the hill and handing over. Mike came steaming in, clearly giving it his all before handing over to Simon.

Here's Simon floating on air as he finished the second leg, ready to hand over to me.
So off I went for my leg around Swinsty reservoir. It started on a flat and well maintained path and I was making good time. To my amazement, when I looked down at my garmin it told me I was running at less than 4 mins/k. I have not run anywhere like that fast this year, so I actually assumed that something odd was going on with the GPS. The path continued to meander through the woods and around the reservoir and soon I heard the familiar sound of a runner catching me from behind and all the while I was catching the runner in front. I was soon passed by a flash of blue and there was no point in me giving chase, his pace was so much quicker than mine.
As I reached the causeway at the end of the reservoir I over took my first runner and I was given a long view of the next part of the route and I could see a number of runners in front of me, which gave me some targets to chase.
As the race went on we cruised around the far side of the reservoir and I slowly picked off more runners before I could see a lady in Skipton's hi-viz yellow top. I was catching her, but only very slowly. My hope was that I would catch her on any hilly sections, or perhaps the final hill.
To get back up to the final causeway between the reservoirs to take us to the finish line, there was a reasonably substantial climb. I expected the Skipton runner to slow on the way up, but she seemed strong and the gap only closed slightly. Along the causeway she still seemed strong and I decided the effort required to catch her would probably be beyond me and I also had half an eye on the Ingleborough fell race the next day.

Me, on the way up to the finish
Of course, up the final hill, being cheered on by my team mates and a couple of people in the crowd that knew me, I couldn't help but put in a bit of a sprint.
I had actually run the leg around 45 seconds quicker than the Skipton lady, but it hadn't been enough to catch her. However, I felt reasonably pleased by my tally of picking off 4 runners in front of me and only being over-taken by one.

In the final reckoning our team came in a very respectable 21st out of 56 teams. A fine evening's work







Wednesday 16 July 2014

Race Review: The Baildon Carnival Canter. 12/7/14

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All pictures reproduced by kind permission of Debi Nicholson
The start of the 2014 race. Photo courtesy of Debi Nicholson. (You can just spot me in my green Fellandale vest)

Cantering to Baildon

Saturday the 12th of July is a pretty busy day around the West Yorkshire region with carnivals and fêtes popping up everywhere. It was a tough choice but I decided to take the short drive to Baildon where a fell race was due to be run from the rugby and cricket club right next to Baildon's small and quintessentially English carnival.  A predictably understated affair, the carnival consisted of a tea tent, some bungee trampolines, a couple of burger vans and a few stalls. Oh, and a lovely family atmosphere. 

I arrived in plenty of time and watched the junior runners coming in from their 1 mile "fun run" then paid the £3 entry fee and eyed up the bananas we'd be eating afterwards. Getting there early gave me plenty of time to contemplate the last few running months and wonder what this race would bring......

A Quick Catch-Up

Very briefly, so as not to bore the under-armour off the 3 people who read this: In October last year I fell badly on my right arm during a mountain relay race in the lake district. The fall rammed my shoulder upwards and twanged all the nerves in my arm and they continued to give me pain for months. In the immediate aftermath I was unable to run at all for a couple of weeks. The injury affected my gait and I subsequently developed a problem with my right knee and ankle. Anyway, to cut a long story short, after physio and lots of strengthening exercises, I am just about ok now and am back up to tentatively running about 60 miles a month (I was doing 150 with no problems in September) but my fitness has suffered badly. Stupidly I didn't cross train enough whilst injured and was able to only do very limited running.

So it brought me to this race. A few weeks ago I ran the Chevin fell race at about 80% and went around 2 minutes slower than I had in 2013. Both races are a similar length but with less elevation at Baildon and now I felt that I was finally in a fit state to give a race some welly at least. Not that I currently possess much welly, but I could at least give it some flip flop.

A popular detail of fell races is to make the route look like a noose. This is on purpose, I'm sure

Your Starter For 10

There really weren't that many more of us than 10 but at least the 46 runners were nearly twice as many as last year, apparently. 
A tiny megaphone wielded by a tiny lady set us off and we cantered around the sports field. I heard a couple of people mention that there were some narrow bits early on that you could get stuck at so I decided to go reasonably hard at the beginning to ensure I didn't get stuck.
Shortly we came to a road that marshals were holding the traffic back from and we got our first look upwards to the trig point on Hope Hill at 282m. Whilst it didn't appear to be any sort of a walk in the park, it wasn't intimidatingly high and I formulated my master plan: Take it easy(ish) and try to make it to the top still running. Masterful eh?
In front of me I could see the long steady climb across Baildon moor and I forced myself to be sensible as I was passed by a lady in a Pudsey vest and not chase her. The race bimbled along on a gentle incline and I continued to preserve energy for the climb.

As the path turned from gradual incline to something a little more energy-sapping I began to reel in a few runners and the Pudsey runner soon disappeared behind me. For no real reason I suddenly became determined to make it to the top without walking. I tried to adjust my pace accordingly for this new target and when the path flattened out again I dared to dream I would achieve my goal. The path took us around to the back of the peak of the hill and we looked up to the summit, it really wasn't very far, but it was pretty steep. 
As I made my way up it my legs began to feel the burn and I slowed to a fast hike. Damn it. At least my hike was as fast as the people around me that were still running. 
At the top of Hope hill a small party of marshals had gathered for their summer solstice festival and I assume that after the race had passed within half an hour they would be naked and sacrificing a hi-viz vest to the Gods of the fells, but don't quote me on that.

Elevation graphs always look much less impressive that the actual climb was

Being Beaten by a Girl

I had reached the top of the climb in a reasonable shape and now I could enjoy (Sort of) the descent. I generally descend more quickly that the people around me running a similar pace so I had reasonable hope of a good finish. After all, these were mainly road runners, surely I could get down a hill quicker than them, right?
Well, yes and no. I did mange to catch a few runners, especially the ones descending with no real confidence, those ones I flew past, but all the while I could hear a runner behind me, catching me up. I felt ok, but I knew that I didn't really have enough in me for a big finish so was pretty much resigned to the fact I would be over taken by who ever it was.
As it turned out it was the second placed lady, Emma Stoney from Baildon runners and she was catching me at a rate of knots. I decided I would try a tactic on her that has worked once or twice- wait until there are a couple of hundred metres left, suddenly sprint and see if she would give up. 
Yeah, it didn't really happen. As we entered the final field to complete the race by running two sides of it, she put on her sprint first, I tried to respond knowing I wouldn't be able to keep up that sprint for the 150 or so metres left, she'd have to give for me to beat her. In the end, just as we turned the final corner and looked towards the finish, she came flying past me travelling at about twice my speed, I couldn't help but laugh out loud and I immediately gave up and slowed down- the only way I would have beaten her is if I'd tripped her up. My giving up had a very strange impact on the crowd though- they gave me a big boo!! Which just made me laugh all the more. 
Photo by Debi Nicholson

Above is Emma already a fair way in front of me despite having only just passed me. Her sprint finish was truly impressive.
So in I trotted in 14th place out of 46 runners. Looking at the winning time I felt a little pang of regret knowing that in September last year I would have been pretty close to that time. Ah well, there is always next year.

The results haven't made it on to the FRA site yet so I can't actually recall who won it, but I do remember that Hannah Oldroyd won the women's race, which is impressive as she had led the women home at Skipton park run that same morning!

Next up is the Washburn valley relay on Friday evening then the Ingleborough fell race on Saturday afternoon. Wish me luck!