The Howgills is an interesting area; sitting the other side of the M6 to the Lakes, these grassy hills and dales are both part of the Yorkshire Dales national park and also still in Cumbria. Alongside this identity crisis, the area is relatively quiet compared to the more popular areas either side of it, which is a shame as it quietly harbours some incredible hills with views for days, gorgeous waterfalls and great swim spots. Oat milk lattes are a touch harder to come by than in the Lakes, but the rural towns of the area are authenically farm-y and old. Sedbergh is also a book town, though not what it was I suspect.
I fell in love with the place some time ago but weirdly, have barely run here. Fortunately, Epic Events (them of the Lakeland 50 and the Rivington night race), were there to change all that. Pulling in to a surprisingly dry farmers field, just outside Sedbergh at 7:30 in the morning, I was quickly directed to a parking space and (being rediciulously early due to fears of road closures) went through registration and used the loos within about 10 minutes. Looking round there was no coffee van so I went and hid in my car for a while, trying to stay warm in the near freezing morning air. My car was reading 3 degrees and the wind was cold. What on earth was I doing here?
The event field began to bubble and then bustle with life. Runners, spectators, dogs and children all started to emerge from the parked cars. The PA system kicked in with the indominable Colin (I think) on the mic. There was music. There was now a much bigger queue for the loo and there was nervous, if freezing, tension.
The marathoners went off first. Its not a massive event, though the marathon attracts more than the half I would think. Being a not big event, we weren't in the start pen very long and the pre-rece briefing was fairly minimal. Ten minutes after the marathoners had gone, we were off too and I was trying to get going up the grassy field. There had been very little attempt for sort us by speeds and I had ended up in the middle which was optimistic. But the stretch across the field did spread us a touch, and then it was a short road section before a climb up the side of a steeer field and some congestion as we all jumped the first stream.
It is worth noting here that a lot of the prime of fell running were out at the Yorkshire three peaks, and the crowd at the event tended more toward the the more relaxed runners, with lots of poles, packs and patterned leggings/shorts. So the first stream crossing was a bit daunting for some. Fortunately, it was barely an inch deep. After going up again (note, very much walking), there was another stream crossing with two lanes of traffic (people) being marshalled by the boss, Marc Laithwaite, who runs Epic Events. It was effectively carnage in a controlled way. But once we had scrambled up the other side there was a more runnable section of single track. It remnded me of the seciton next to Haweswater, where you have to run single file at the pace of the slower person and I was stuck for a while behind a nervous runner I couldn't easily pass. But eventually I got a bit more space to run a bit more freely as we tilted down to the ice cream seller on the fell side before the first major climb.
Most of the climb in this race is in the first half. So for the next few miles. There was a nice little undulating section before we started the main climb to Winder. The paths were mostly very well made, and grassy. To our left, views over to Morecombe bay were opening up. You could see the fast chaps and chapettes snaking up and round in a curve to the right. It was a long but doable climb and I managed to get a steady rhythm, and overtaking the tail end of the marathon runners. Given the level of climb, and my collapsed fitness, I couldn't comprehend the marathon.
At the top of Winder, there was a strong breeze, a cairn and a trig. I enjoyed the short down hill but could see the large the climb up to Arant Haw. Or more correctly, I could see half of it as a clag had settled over the higher tops. As the ground kicked up, I noted a clump of grass at the side of the path and ran to that, before joining the slow walking climbers to the top. It was a long climb with a steep kick at the top, and as I reached midway I seemed to catch a clump of people, but the broad path allowed for easy over taking.
Usually I enjoy a podcast when I run, but for a change I turned on Spotify and went for a playlist I had nominally made for running but never really used. Amazingly, it worked and I climbed in to the cloud with a series of excellent tunes to keep the rhythm too. A lot of people were suffering and I was aware I might be using too much energy too early, but I was climbing relatively well.... A group of I presume local kids came running off the top, taking a less obvious line to our right. To grow up that free I thought.
The climb had warmed me up and the gloves I had worn early in the race were long since shoved in a pocket. I had even managed to sweat a bit. But the top of Arant Haw was cold. A strong breeze blew cold air through my base layer and the views were obstructed by cloud. Its apparently 605m above sea level, whereas Winder was only 473. I was glad to keep moving sd we dropped a bit again and then ran along a flatter section on good springy path. It was hard to see what was coming but I assumed we would go up and down again a few more times and was not disappointed. Throughout the path was very runnable, and generally quite dry. The odd crag of limestone stuck out but it was mostly lovely running. Finally we topped out on the Calf. I imagine there are great views from here but not today. A few people were struggling to move through this section; I was glad to start the descent.
The descent started gently enough. It was hard to see how long it would go on for. I was also aware that at some point, the half needed to separatefrom the full marathon route. The route then got a bit steeper, and a bit more rugged, as we turned off the Dales Way and headed down towards what would eventually become the river that goes over Cautley Spout. It was quite congested at times and initially I followed a quick footed lady down and around the slower groups. Then I found my own groove and pushed a bit harder, finding my inner fell runner and thoroughly enjoying myself, flying past people and upsetting a few I think. I just seemed to find my groove for the first time since pre pandemic.
The valley floor was coming in to view. The river was snaking along. There was a marshal to direct the half people to the right turn off and I bounced across the grass before nearly falling in the river as my shoes studs stuck in the grass as I try to jump in. Then I started to bonk a bit, the adrenaline of the descent crashing down and the descent being swapped for a more undulating, narrow path that dipped in and out of the bogs. I quickly grabbed a gel and let the person in front over take. It took a while to feel the effects of the gel and I was aware of another few people coming up behind me. But the steep drop down to the foot of Cautley came up.
This was the only real technical section in the race; it was a loose shale path at a steep angle that zig zagged. A few people had slowed up a lot on this, and one lady had come to a complete stop. But it wasn't too long and the path at the bottom was a joy. It runs along above the stream from cautley spout, through a wide valley and is initally grass and then more well made path. As we reached the bottom, I saw people coming up the other way and crossing over the bridge to the right. I then realised we were going to do the full out and back to the Temperance Inn (yes, a pub that serve no beer! check out the Cross Keys outside Sedbergh for the history). Ergh. I suddenly felt desperate for the loo and tired. I had definitely burnt my candles too early....it wasn't even 10 miles yet!
The narrow bridge and steps over the river in to the check point were a silly idea as it was single file and with two lanes of traffic it meant one side was always queuing. But there was a loo, and a chance to strip my now redundant top layer which annoyingly I had pinned my number too. I phaffed but had a nice chat with two chaps also having a checkpoint phaff. This maybe allowed the sugar to circulate in my blood stream (from the gel, I didn't fancy the check point) and when I started running again, I felt good, smiling at people coming in the other way. I reached the bridge and turned across the river and passed the photographer smiling. Maybe I had saved this....
I hadn't. The next 3 miles were pathetic. It wasn't technical but I made hard work of it, walking at the slightest uphill. It was path thorugh a series of sheep fields, the odd gauze patch and even tucking under tree boughs. I lost more and more places, getting annoyed at myself. I just felt a bit defeated. We crossed some beautiful water features and blossoms dotted the path. There were also lovely views in to the valley where the road runs below. Sadly, I was in no shape to enjoy them, cursing myself for not making good progress and stopping to walk far too frequewntly. I was also aware my 3 hour hope was going down the drain. Eventually the path gave way to a track which continued to undulate, and then this joined a road and the last 3/4 of a mile were on a road but I couldn't run it all. How much further could it be? I knew much watch would be reading wrong (as always), plus its a trail half so it could be closer to 14 miles.....
But then there flags sticking above the hedge line, and I could see the cars parked through the less dense foliage. Would they make us run all the way around the field and in? No, it seemed there was another gate and three marshals to make sure I didn't miss it. I suddenly found some energy to push as I came in to the field and up the long finishing tunnel.
I crossed the line smiling but a smidge over 3 hours. It wa very ready to finish but probably could have pushed more had I not been so defeatist. I collected my medal and a a cup of squash but it felt a bit empty, finishing on my own with no one to talk to. I was then a bit sad my hisband had decided not to come up; it was turning out to be quite a nice day weather wise and I wanted to share my story of the race. Instead, I got to my car and got cramp. I rarely get cramp and swore loudly. Eventually it went off. Maybe I had made a bit of an effort?
I eventually managed to change and walked out to watch a few more finishers. As I said, I felt pretty lonely, and the catering van wasn't really my bag so I got in the car and drove to Kendal for petrol and then lunch at the farm shop. Not such a bad finish to the race. In the end I came 30th female out of just under 90, and in the top half of finishers overall. As I said, I am not sure the fell racing quality was there so this isn't a massive achievement but it was really good to feel my groove on the down hill, strong on the main up hills and finally get to run out in the Howgills. Its a good if tough half, not to be taken lightly but accessible to many.
