Race Report: Rainow 5

Starting a new job on the first wet morning in May was perhaps not auspicious for it also being my first proper midweek race of the season. The last time Rainow 5 was run, I didn't make it due to not getting back from Rochdale in time, but it is a real favorite route of mine. The parking for it however, is a bit of mare as Rainow has minimal bus service and is a very small village. So when I finished my induction day early, and Martin had too, we decided to go over, park at Bollington and walk over Oakenbank lane to Rainow in time for the race. The rain had drifted away to a bit of intermittent drizzle but the clouds remained ominous and it wasn't exactly warm. The dog tried to jump in to a sheep field but otherwise it was a pleasant walk with enough time for a trip to the Robin Hood for a diet coke pre race. It seemed a nice pub, and probably worth a return visit in future. Then Martin took the dog back to Bollington, where he was going to eat tea in the pub, and (I hoped) watch a bit of the race. 

The Rainow 5 is hosted by Macclesfield Harries, and is a nearly 5 mile route that encompasses a good runnable section at the start along an old road called Oakenbank lane, a lovely grassy decent to the bottom of a valley followed by a big stomp up to White Nancy. White Nancy is a large white bollard on a hill, placed, I believe, in some sort of commemoration of the Battle of Waterloo. It sits at the end of Kerridge, a ridge with amazing views across Macclesfield and to Manchester, and also part of the Gritstone trail. You run along this ridge, down the other end, back on yourself to the valley bottom and then the reverse way back to finish with a fast sprint coming off Oakenbank lane. Registration is in the Rainow Institutue which is a seemingly posh way of referring to the village hall. So good old fashioned fell racing and a huge queue for two ladies loos (fortunately I went at the pub). 

I eventually managed to cajool myself out of my sweatshirt and enjoyed chatting with various other Chorlton runners. We had a full range of people turning out, with a mix of potentially top 10 finishers, to a few of us for whom bottom 10 was fine. I did the briefest of warm ups, smiled for the team photo (we never get the full group of Blacksheep, its like herding cats), and joined the throngs at the start line. It felt busy and I am told it was record numbers this year. So record, that we all had gathered in front of the finish line and so had to all move back down the lane to the official start point, which was not easy to coordinate. I was tucked somewhere behind the group dressed as stars wars characters (May the 4th be with you) and in front of a few people I hoped I could beat. There was some words about goodness knows what, though cake was mentioned, and we were off without too much ceremony. 

Initially it was pretty jostly, and I think Francis took the piss out of me for trying to over take pretty soon over the start line bit I couldn't really hear over the sound of rubber studs on concrete. I felt ploddy despite my warm up and was soon surrounded by people twice my age, which is something I have come to consider normal in fell racing. We jostled and pottered over Oakenbank lane, everyone trying to find their spot with an eye on the hold up gate coming up. Just before the gate, Gill had caught me up from behind and we had a bit of a chat in the queue to go through, and watched Princess Laia fly down the hill ahead of us. Fortunately the first gate spreads you out a bit for the second gate but I was over taken on the easy down hill between them. The steps at the bottom are no fun and its just go at what pace of the person in front. I find steps difficult, and these were not easily spaced for my legs to skip down them so I sort of did that awkward two step shuffle on each one. I was trying not to look up....

Over the bridge and the climb to White Nancy begins. Its about 300ft in half a mile in total (I think) but it certainly feel more, and a lot of the climb is in the last 100m or so. Initially it is road and I tried to convince myself to keep running to the second cattle grid, but ended up having a small walk before getting jogging again on one of the short sections where the gradient flattens out. I had managed to gain a place or two and could see Gill and even Sam ahead of me. Then its the left hand turn and suddenly its up, up, up a grass slope that is steep, pitted and generally unrunnable. But actually, I went well, and gained a few places, catching Gill, Lizzie and Sam, and getting in touching distance of Kate ands Alison. But I was puffing a lot at the top where a group of rather lovely Bollington Runners, along with the legend that is Jerry (club veteran) were there to cheer us on. I realised I might have gone too early but there wasn't time to worry about it as the next section is very runnable and I needed to get going. 

Kerridge is a spectacular walk if you have never done it. The low cloud created lovely colours in the sky over Manchester to the right and the evening light lit up the fells to the left. There are a few gates and the path varies from tree lined, to open hill top. There is a bit of climb up to a trig and I had a few steps of walking on this and around this time Gill caught me up. Its nice to have company to run with and we started the descent together though I made a bit of a hash of it, especially the slightly muddier sections with rocks. I felt slow and hitting the track at the bottom I saw Sam absolutely fly down the descent. Soon both Gill and Sam had overtaken me along with several other people as I labored slowly along the very runnable track, a mixture of grass, mud and the odd weirdly paved section. I remember seeing someone with a marshal clutching their wrist last time I ran, and one of the fields had a very awkward camber, but it was marvelous running and fast for anyone in better shape than I.  

The woods at the end of the path were full of bluebells and my eyes watered with pollen to go with my snotty nose. Oh, the glamour! But it was very beautiful and I was now running in space, having been dropped by the cluster of runners ahead of me. I tried not to be bothered by this and instead focused on my own race, and the possibility of catching a few people up on return up hill across the fields. I went over the little foot bridge and couldn't see Gill and and Sam but caught a few more runners on the narrow awkward  steps before trying to power up the fields, and taking a few more places. The field wasn't that steep but there are three of them and by the top I could see Sam but Gill was long gone. Sam was walking so I pushed to catch up. Sam is a far better runner than I, so finishing in her general vicinity is a good result for me. I don't chase people because I am competitive, but it does help me to push myself. We were back on Oakenbank lane and the uneven cobbly surface and I could see how far it went up with other runners- not far, and infinitely runnable if I made myself do it. I passed Sam on the uphill and told her to keep pace, knowing she was very capable of beating me, its all runnable from here I said, 'that's the problem!' she said and fell in behind me. 

This was now the worst of two worlds as I had Sam behind me chasing me, but not far enough that I could let the gas off. I knew she would pass me, but not when. It was still a way, but I decided to give it some beans and came skittering down the uneven surface back down in to Rainow and on to the road. The first person to pass me was a 60+ year old woman from Macclesfield harriers (they breed them like that down there) but Sam caught me about 20 meters from the finish to finish 2 seconds ahead of me, having run a much better race. I lurched awkwardly across the line to the cheers of a gathered group of Chorlton Blacksheep. It hadn't been  a bad performance at all really, but I am really slow on the flat relative to my ascending, and I am no where near as good at descending as I was pre pandemic. 

The low light meant I had to get a move on as I was jogging back to Bollington on my own, and the light was definitely fading. I don't like the creepy mill much so I grabbed my bag, congratulated a few people and got myself a slice of cake. It was a good chunk serving of rice crispy cake with chocolate on top and blinking marvelous. 

I had to run back up the race route to get back to Bollington. There was no signal to let Martin know I was coming and to order me some food until half way back either, so I walked the first bit and cheered in the last few runners, including a few ladies from Chorlton who had done a stirling job (Susanne actually won her age category). At the top of the hill I text martin and started to slowly jog towards Bollington. It isn't far but my legs were a wreck and I arrived at the Poachers in Bollington a bit delirious to find hot sweet potato soup that was frankly amazing. Martin had really like the pub which was good, as he had been waiting a while and not watched the race at all! We don't get a date very often so this was a good opportunity (even if I was a bit stinky and sweaty and very tired). Oscar was asleep under the table. 

Sadly a (relatively) late night and the run yesterday have wiped me out so no long run today. But I am so glad I got back to midweek racing, that looked and felt like normal, even for a back of the pack chubster like me.