Gosh, I think I have now raced 3 weekends on the bounce, or is it 4? Either way, from lockdown to regular racing is quite pleasant.
That said, the weather took a turn this weekend and definitely wasn't pleasant. In fact, winter has arrived all at once and the temperature has gone from 20 degrees for the last Lakeland trail event to 10 degrees for Coniston, and I for one was not ready! (Especially as I currently have no radiators)
So Martin and Oscar bailed. I managed to find petrol and began the 2 hour drive to Coniston. Fortunately, the roads were not flooded.
Arriving at a wet field is rarely as delightful as when it is a Lakeland Trails wet field. Amazingly they are now taking card for parking which is very useful, and the parking man managed to remain upbeat despite the fact he had probably been there since 9am and there were a lot of people to come and it was very much raining.
As I walked to registration, I bumped in to Chorlton Runners Claire, Andy and Chris. Claire and Chris had done the 10k and were very glad to be finished. Chris had fallen in the infamous water jump, and everyone was very wet. Claire and Andy's dog was hiding in the car, apparently the only sensible one. I was pleased ot see some friendly faces, having travelled up alone. I registered and then walked to Coniston jetty to a) get a cup of tea and a flapjack, and b) keep warm. I felt a bit antisocial not hanging out with the other Chorlton Runners but I knew standing in the cold would be bad for me, and that I could see the state of the start of the course, which is about the only flat fast section. On the way back, I managed to spot two of my former bosses in one of the 10 mile wave and gave them a polite cheer. I made it back to the car for a quick change and trot to the start line. I was already damp, despite full body waterproofs.
I am not sure about the waved starts; I miss the big atmosphere of a mass start (though at least the mass start had 50 people in this time, unlike the 20 at Cartmel!) and it is hard to know where you are. But on the other hand, the narrower sections of the course were less crowded and the faster runners come through in drips which was more manageable, especially with fewer narrow sections than Cartmel.
As we went off, I felt suspiciously high up in the group and was trotting along the relatively good, if puddly path that lead to Coniston at a stedy 9:20-30 pace, aware I had 9 miles to do and a good deal of up. This section of the race can be quite fast as its flat and good footing and people get carried away but the lack of masses meant it was a bit easier. We snaked in to Coniston despite a digger reversing backwards down a road, through Coniston and up past the Bluebird museum. Then the up properly starts.
We were still on road as the gradient kicked in, and two women promptly over took me. I get plodding away however, and over the course of the race we would play cat and mouse a lot. Eventually they would beat me, but they definitely ran a cannier race. I remember walking a lot of this climb last time so was pleased to still be running as the road petered out and turned to rocky track.
The roaring of water annouced the first waterfall to our left and eventually I was taking walk breaks so managed to grab a quick photo.
The next section is incredibly scenic, and I probably didn't run enough of it as there were plenty of people walking and Iwas enjoying the view across the old coppermines valley too much. The cloud was low, and the rain was falling in varying degrees of heaviness. I could see runners further up the course, just below the cloud level. And the amazing waterfalls were the biggest I have seen them (one perk of the rain).
Past the youth hostel and the track runs out in to path and steps over the first waterfall, then a rockier path on the other side. In my head, this is where I was going to get a chivvy on. In reality, I struggled: the rought wet ground scared me and I couldn't get my head to get my feet to go quicly over the rough ground. I was hesitant and worse, I was in the way! Before the second warterfall, I let the lady behind me pass and then stomped up the steps to cross behind her. This is pretty much the top of the course but I was too busy trying to overthink wet rock to appreciate it.After a bit more rocky path, we landed on the Walna scar road and, sad as it may seem, I was grateful.
In hindsight, I could have made better progress here, but I was worried about how tired I had been the last time I had done this race, where I had walked in the last mile. So I kept a steady and conservative pace along the old road, which isn't too bad underfoot. Its rocky in places but you can get a move on over a lot of it. Through the car park and a bit more up, I kept running which pleased me. 'Soon,' I thought, 'we'll be on the descent and I can really get going'. How wrong I was.
Eventually the turn off the the track came and one of only a few handful of muddy sections across some grass. I wasn't making great progress and then Andy from club flew past and incredible speed! I''d hoped to keep ahead for 6 miles (I had a 20 minute head start) bu it was closer to 5....Oh well, I had other things to concentrate on and Andy is a lot faster than me!
The descent wasn't how I remembered it. I remember flying through this section before, and thought it would be steep and quick, but actually it was very staged and even undulating. And I really couldn't get going. I had no rhythm, no pace, and by now my race vest was trying to escape, finally giving up the ghost after years of abuse. I couldn't get my weight forward, my post tib felt sore and unstable and my feet weren't going where i wanted. I was frustrated as I skittered ineffectively past the amaxzing waterfall in an old quarry, and past the photographer who was trying to shelter in a discard pile from the quarry.
We hit a track and then on to road at the bottom and I tried to pull away. Was I tired? I was gaining on a few people so maybe it wasn't all bad. I was also being over taken by a lot of people...
After the main road crossing (a main road by lakes standards anyway), we went back on to footpath and I actually moved well in the mud. I was catching people from the waves, many of whom looked a bit bedraggled, having set off half an hour before us and so been out in the weather longer. I went through the gate and tried to keep going along the track and footpath, making reasonable progress but not brilliant.
The eventual descent to the lakeside was a bit of a farce. There is a mixture of woodland with roots, rocks both point and slabby (slippy), and a muddy slope. I struggled to get my feet to go over the rocky path, and was abit stuck behind someone with pole who clearly didn't want me to pass. It was rooty, and whilst its pretty and on a dry day, another lovely section of the course, I just wasn't miving well over the ground. I nearly took out a slower runner when my shoes lost grip and I skidded in to the side of him as I overtook (I apologised profusely).Gah! Where was that bloody lake?!?
The lake appeared as the footpath improved. The last time I did this, I had blown up a bit and so this section in my mind was a lot longer than in reality. I was weary of doing the same thing again, and kept an even pace until I could see the marquee before realising I was actually quite close and a good run would get me in under 1:45 if I went for it.
The path on this section is mostly very good. I should have kicked and pushed but my body just wasn't having it. It wasn't really tired....just...wet? Wet in every sense of the word.
I made it in to the last field and knew i had to do the water jump and make it round the field in less than two minutes- the 1:45 idea slipped away. The water jump this year was blooming deep with the extra rainfall. I had been warned it would cover my knees, and also seen poor Chris's knees where he had slipped. The crowd were all waiting, including Claire and Andy (and Bella dog), and everyone had cameras. Sadly I disapopinted them by carefully walking in, and not flying arse over tit where the ground dropped away under the water.
I tried to surge round the field but I was stuck behind someone and then my legs just didn't want to spring. Claire took a video of my last run and I am basically waddling. My stride is short, both feet never leave the ground at the same time and I look like a constipated penguin. No spring at all. 1:45:40. Not terrible but nothing to write home about. 21st of 40. Midpack. I waddled passed the tee shirts and was pleased to see my old bosses who had survived the race and rain too. We were all....a bit soggy. But I managed to say something coherent (I hope!).
On Claire's recommendation I had a hot chocolate, which I spilt half of trying to push someone's car out the mud (no good deed goes unpunished!) and then went back to the car. The event area was rapidly emptying out: people weren't hanging around unnecessarily. The marshals had been real heroes today, and I was very grateful for their hardiness. The event team must have had a very long wet day. There had been a very few lwt ups in the rain. As I changed, I was really just grateful to have made, to have run and to have seen the amazing scenery. I made it home in one piece, grateful for my car heater.
I spent today watching the marathon and trying to understand why I can't run fast down any more. Some of it is lack of practice: Covid 19 stopped me getting to the hills. But I think some of it is size and lack of core. I am, frankly, getting big again. I look at all the marathoners, and think I should be able to do that- but I also know I couldn't last time. I have no real urge to run another road marathon yet. But big plans next year mean I am going to have to get good at conquering my weaknesses.
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