Peak Raid Mini Mountain Marathon: Wardlow

 Firstly, an injury update: the back is doing fine. Some hot water bottles, stretching and then pilates type exercises and I made it to parkrun the following week. In fact, I had an amazing weekend in Eskdale camping with friends that weekend. We had wall to wall sunshine, went to Muncaster parkrun, walked to the coast, went on a steam train, walked some more, went wild swimming, saw waterfalls, walked a bit more and had ice cream. It was a weekend that lifted a bit of pressure off me, and I am so greatful to be invited and to be able to go. I am also completed charmed by Eskdale so anticipate a return at some point. 

Then this weekend I made a prompt return to racing. In fact, anyone looking at my running and racing schedule would think I am trying to out run something (possibly very true) for the next few weeks. 

But this race was different: it was an orienteering event. I love the Peak Raid Anytime events but due to the dog, haven't made many of their in person events. I was please Martin agreed to let me go on this one and had the dog for the morning. I left Manchester before dawn as I like to be in the early slot, and a beautiful pink and orange sunrise broke slowly across the hills ahead of me. However, the minute the car tipped in to Darbyshire, it was swallowed by patchy fog which is not ideal for orienteering. I noted it was a bit better on the high ground and wondered if I could use this to my advantage....

Wardlow is very small village on the road to Monsal Head. I suspect most people do not stop there unless they are using the campsite. Parking for the event was at the campsite which was easy enough, and then we registered in the village hall. I think I had 20 minutes to phaff before my start time and there was no queue at this time. The light had arrived but patches of fog remained.I chatted with the organisers voicing my plan to 'stay high' on Great Longstone for the first bit, then drop in to the dales later when the fog had thinned. I may have pointed in the wrong direction however, and had a quick peak at my map to check which side of the road Great Longstone was before I started. 

I was first off, and took my map, started my watch and immediately pottered off down the footpath to the left. I am not good at looking at the map and making a plan which is a shame as actually my initial route choice was sound! Initially I was bumping through an old field system of narrow medieval land spurs fenced in with limestone walls. I couldn't see too far ahead but I found the first control pretty easily (10 points in the bag), and decided to head for the good bridleways and paths on the edge. I was feeling pretty heavy and slow if I am honest. I chugged up a lane and found the next point  before turning on to a bridleway. I put my headphones on and started to relax, sort of enjoying the foggy stillness around me. I don't mind the fog, but mostly when i know where I am, not when I am navigating. 

I went up a steep track and collected another control near the top and turned to go back down. In hindsight, I should have then gone for a 50 on the edge of the map at this side, but I didn't. Instead I ran down the track and passed three other competitors coming the other way. We all said hi, smiling and enjoying the morning. The views were starting to appear and a cloud inversion was apparent. 

Rising up the other side of the valley, I moved towards Longstone edge. I collected the odd control, and passed a few campers in various places but it was mostly quiet. My body was also starting to warm up. I knew an amazing view would await at the edge of the Edge, and with the sun rising it did not disappoint. Then I began to drop down a gnarly little descent which I made hard work of. Somewhere below I heard voices but when I popped out the bottom, I saw no one. I galloped across a green field towards Great Longstone wondering about my next move: to go back up the same way or head east to the 40 pointer.....

As I stop up from dibbing the control at the bottom of the field, I heard a huff behind me and turned to stare in to the eyes of a gigantic white bull, about 20 meters away and walking towards me. Mercifully I have been on this path before and my route was now decided for me... I walked slowly backwards, starting my cow singing song (yes, I sing to cows, its a thing) as the bull and his harem advanced slowly towards me. I walked a little faster knowing the path bent left with the Dale in a few meters. As I rounded the corner out of sight of the bull I LEGGED IT. I legged it all the way to the next fence. There would have been no escape had they charged; I was basically in a funnel. Mercifully, the corner had gotten me out of sight long enough to get a head start. I hurried through the next field and to the safety of the lane at Great Longstone. The following sign was on this gate.....

I like Great Longstone and felt very guilty for startling an older gentleman as I appeared in the church yard taking the footpath short cut across the village. I toyed with the idea of getting a checkpoint on the Monsal trail at the South of the village but it was a long way for 20 points and there was a 50 at the top of the hill, and another 30 at a distant trig point, so I scampered up past the campsite, back to Longstone Edge. The cows seemed to have woken my body up and I was able to gently jog some of this, rather than just walk the uphills. 

It might be slightly cheating, but I remembered the next section from a previous orienteering event this side. So I found my way up to the pond and the 50 points at the top of the moor without too much difficulty. I was turned towards the west part of the course to see the final remains of the cloud inversion and the trig point I was aiming for sticking out above it. 

This route choice was not perfect: had I looked at the map properly I would have noticed most of the point to the other side of the trig and in the dale were only 10s and 20s, and would involve lots of climbing in and out of the dale to get. But in my head, the route had promised dales and therefore I should go to the dale section. So I ran off the moor, across the road, back in to hte fog and down a steep grassy field that was pretty slippy in places, and I made very much hard work of it, including losing the path at one point. I popped out the other end pleased to start ascending again and started the section of climb to the trig. 

There were a few more people now, as a combination of more people having started and also more people heading over to the moor from the dale (possibly having reached the same conclusions about the low scoring dale in the fog I belatedly came to). One of the people running towards me waved and I realised it was Kiloran, my fellow Chorlton Runner. It was her first event like this and we exchanged a few words, took a selfie and carried on. 

The trig point was stunning but I didn't tarry. I also made about my only nav error of the run, taking the wrong line off the top and having to adjust my route halfway down the pasture (CROW land) across a load of tussocks, at one point tripping over a particularly tough bramble and landing on my face. I must admit, overall the ground was much better than I had feared with all the rain we had had. White Peak is famous for its limestone which when wet can be a mare, plus we were traversing farm land which can get deeply muddy at times. This was reassuring as I headed for the Dale. 

The path across the top of the Dale was a bit slower than I hoped, as it was abit of an adverse camber. I was trying to find a good route with just under an hour to go. In the end, I elected to drop in to the Dale down a small path that wasn't too slippy but wasn't overly fast either, collect the control at the bottom and then climb out and head north. The climb out was initially steady but became very steep with steps through the trees. At times, crags appeared out of the fog hinting at how dramatic this dale is normally. 

On the far side, my plan started to unravel. The path  this side of the dale was tough going with camber and mud. I realised I was not going to get to the 30 pointed at the top of the valley, and dithered over to go to one of points, then decided not to.....eventually I turned towards the route back and the top of the a different path in to hte Dale. This path was glorious. There were several people coming up out the valley but I was alone heading towards the end. I then started up the climb on the other side which was much better than I had anticipated. 

So as I grabbed my last control at the end of the path back towards Wardlow, I realised I would be nearly 15 minutes early. Oh well, I was enjoying this last run towards Wardlow, and felt I was flying (for me) as I headed towards to road and then towards the village hall. 

I had enjoyed my run, so to find out I had a respectable if not competitive score was nice. I grabbed a cup of tea and enjoyed chatting to the organisers, stream of arriving competitors and spectators abot route options. I had definitely run based on interest points not competitive points but I had also really enjoyed the run and my nav was fine (mostly). I didn't even rank high among the Chorlton guys. Sadly, I can't make the next one but hoping to have another go at the November or December event and suggest a few more people do to! 

The Lap: Landing on my Arse

 Opening caveat: I did not have a good race, and I did not finish. This may shape my review of this race.

When I booked the Lap, I had images of glorious September sunshine, and a plan that would have worked if life hadn't happened. In my mind, it was less hilly than Lakeland 50 but in reality, its not by much and Lakeland 50 packs that elevation in to a few punchy climbs whilst the Lap undulates....continuously. 

As I had mentioned, life has been HAPPENING this year. Not just life but also the odd death. Then to top it off, my Mum had a positive mammogram and breast biopsy which ordinarily we'd probably have coped with but I was rather at the end of my short tether in terms of resilience. As I packed for our trip to Arran my brain had checked out, both of work but also in terms of motivation. I'd done my one recce, hadn't loved it in terms of runnability, and was sort of resigned to a long long day on the trails. 

Error one in this, is that I was going on holiday and planning to run the Lap at the end of my holiday. The second error was packing for the forecast as issued at the start of a week. We don't travel light in general, but there was a limit to how much I could pack, and also, to much I could get my head around. I had enough kit, but I a not sure there was ever the correct kit for what was about to unfold. 

The one thing I did do right, was book solid, proper accommodation and ferries to get us back to the main land and checked in with lots of time. The Friday was less stressful than it could have been. We got an early ferry from Brodick following a cafe breakfast (not much opens in Brodick before 10 am but we managed to get in the one place that did), the dog was calmer on the ferry this time, we landed at Troon (less bleak than Ardrossan) and the roads were kind, excepting the service station at Cairn Lodge which was mildly chaotic. We rocked up at our Cartmel accommodation, had time to sort kit and then went off to registration for opening time. 

The Lap does offer on site camping, for those that wished to use it. However, there was already moisture in the air and the field was just about holding together. Everyone parks on this same field but there were plans to get those out who were stuck in the mud. I was quietly grateful for Martin's ridiculous car and its 4x4 (I usually feel this car is too big and flashy, but I'll hand it to him this once). There were several tents and camper vans and even two motorhomes (current least favourite thing) in the camping areas. It was 30 minutes before registration opened but there was already a queue. You must register between 7pm and 11pm the night before. There is NO morning registration (mostly because you start running very early). There was a nice multispan tent with a bar, coffee van and a food van. We got supper, then I got in the queue, which was slowish but far from Lakeland 50 slow, flew through kit check. I didn't pick up my drop bag as I didn't have anything to put in it. This was mistake number 3 but I didn't get to the point it mattered.....

I slept terribly, as you often do when you are worried about an early alarm. It was a 4:30am alarm, to allow us to be out the door by 5, back at the start line for 5:30 allowing a bit of phaff time but also to queue for the parking. Overnight, the drizzle had become utterly torrential. Martin was in full waterporoof gear to drop me off, and very grumpy about the whole situation. He did however buy me a cup of tea whilst I went to the loo at the start line. 

Its a smaller field than the Lakeland 50 but in the dark I couldn't find Richard or Andy. I was anxious and also it was just wet. We were eventually dragged out from under the shelter to line up and listen to the race briefing. One of  standouts of this to me was the fact that it was designed as a mountain bike route, and suddenly some of the weirder route choices made a bit of sense. Though it wasn't not really reassurringly. It was 6am, it was about 7 degrees and it was raining. I started in a waterproof top, others went for the whole lot. I went across the line with my head torch off as everyone was walking and there was enough light to see by. I think I might have turned it on for 200m later in the woods, but that was it. 

Mercifully, they had changed the start line to running on the road. As we hit the road I was trying to get a gentle trot on to get going and get warm. As we came around the field, I waved at Martin from under my hood and was jogging . I jogged nicely, feeling pretty good until we went uphill, when I walked. It was steady and sensible but I was passing people. I wanted to get to the narrow point sooner rather than later as I envisaged queuing and slow moving traffic on the wet technical sections. I was not wrong and it was a bit stop start. 

Then came a little break; the people in front of me all went off the wrong way and despite my shouts and warnings, carried on off in to the woods with others following them. I blessed my little recce and picked up the right path, now in space and able to tackle the rooty, rocky, muddy narrow path at my own pace, before popping up on the road by the YMCA. From now on, it was going to be unexplored paths and I noted I needed to keep an eye for markers as they were small and in the rain, it was greyer than normal and you could miss them. 

The climb to High Dam was filthy. It was slippery. It felt a bit mad that this many people were going up there. I did it at a slow steady pace, slipping slightly once and reminding myself I have sore SI joints (first warning). But as we hit the main path at the top, there were some beautiful sections or gravels path that swooped around the very atmospheric water where two very hardcore swimmers were getting ready to go in. Maybe this would be okay. I was warm enough, and only a bit damp and running relatively comfortably. Then there was some more slippery paths and the odd board walk. The descent down towards Finsthwaite was quite pleasant though the checkpoint was already wet through. I grabbed half a banana (I'd been eating a block of Kendal mint cake of a PH chew every 30 mins) and headed on. The next section in the woods about Lakeside was a bit rooty and a bit muddy, but I was hoping things would improve. The descent down to Newby Bridge was slippery and slowed by a man ahead of me who was struggling with the steepness and muddiness. Mercifully I made it down in one piece but some people around me definitely ended up on their arses and there were already a few with bandages from the first check point. 

I was suprised how many people were walking on the flat road section. One chap lifted his poles up and stabbed me in the knee with them by mistake. Mercifully it didn't puncture but it was a bit sore. I didn't make a fuss and jogged on. I used my brand new speed cup to get water from the immensely kind family doing water and popsicles (usually its roasting on the Lap but not today) at the end of their drive, just because they were there and I felt I should. People like this light up my world. 

At Staveley in Cartmel we began to climb. Initially I was behidnd someone steady but they then wanted me to go ahead and I felt a bit exposed in front of these people. It wasp redominantly plantation for the next few miles, and about 200m of climb. Some of this was very wet but the worse was yet to come as we entered the flatter section towards Simpson gorund reservoir. This woodland was so water logged. There were deep sections of mud, bog and roots. Several people fell. It was slow going, and at times felt like miles and miles of cross country course. Very little of the route seemed to use the forestry tracks, instead taking us down smaller side paths which were probably great fun on a mountain bike, or when the ground was dry, but on that day were just painful. 

Eventually I popped out near Gummer's How car park and somewhere here I skidded and sort reverse table topped when I landed, but also slightly sheared my pelvis causing pain in my SI joint and a spasm up my back. 'Run it off' was my thought. So I got up and started across the road to the climb to Gummer's How. There were quite a lot of people waiting at this gate but Martin wasn't there so I thought he hadn't made it. I noticed I was struggling a bit more on the Gummer's How climb but maybe I was just tiring. My back was sore but manageable. 

Martin was at the top of Gummer's How with  a soaked Oscar and absolutely no view. He wasn't keen to hang around, having seen me. He commented I was quite far up the field for me (about mid table) and also that everyone looked miserable. I had water permating down my neck and in to my sleeves. There wasn't much let up but a lovely lady did direct us all off the hill in the right direction as the marking here was a bit sparse. 

Then it was back to the cross country. Increasingly I realised that stabilising my pelvis in the mud was becoming tricky. Some of the paths had churned up so much and were such an adverse camber that it was almost impossible to traverse them without slipping. I did have some nice chats on this section but my back was increasingly sore. I hadn't gotten my poles out yet as I like to keep them for the second half but started to contemplate it because I was getting shooting pains on uphills. I was quite glad to see some road and make some progress. On the flat road, I could run but uphill and then later down hill were causing shooting pains. I think there was a water station somewhere here, and then we were on a track for a bit. I was yo-yoing people now, as I was probably running some sections quite nicely but then my back would be problematic on the ups. I managed to stop a group of us missing a turn across some more slippy fields and then was jogging on the next road section. I also managed to avoid some frisky cows, and did wonder if they were going to be so kind to the remainder of the field as they were looking pissed. 

Soaked through and struggling with my back 

At the view point at Brant fell a chap was sat down struggling but I carried on. But now the shooting pains were up as well as down and my poles were out. We'd picked up the Dales way and in this next mile it became apparent I could not carry on. I was using my poles to take my weight a bit but the shooting pains from my back to my legs were worse now, and the spasm in the muscles was agony. A few people were surprised when I said I had to stop as I was moving okay from the outside it seems....but I know shooting pains mean damage and I cannot damage my back. So at Cleabarrow, I handed in my tracker and called Martin. He was abit surprised to hear from me, as I was still in a good position for me, and part of me thought I had made the wrong decision. 

But the walk to the collection point (I was not very good at identifying a place for pick up) was agony. Annoyingly, this section of the course was flatter so I might have been able to limp on but i was not going to do another near 30 miles on this back, and that was clear. A lot of people told me to carry on but the tracker was already back at the check point. I was walking but it was sore. I eventually got to Windermere and Martin came and found me in a housing estate. 

The car ride back to the accommodation was hard work. I couldn't sit properly as my back was in pain. The next 24 hours were difficult to sit, and hot water bottles were applied to try and make my back bend. On the Sunday, I walked the dog down the lane and that was pretty bad. The car journey back to Manchester was one of the longer ones of my life. 

But mercifully it is muscular (mostly I suspect because I stopped when I did) with a bit of SI joint thrown in. I've tried not to mope to much but I am sad about what happened; I took very little joy away from that day. It brightened up later and the number of DNFs reduced, but it was quite high that year. The camping field must have been a mire by the end, and I suspect many cars struggled to get out of the field after picking up runners. I didn't get any views nor to the bits of the course I know, though the recce paid off for that one section early on. I have learnt a few things though: do your big race early in the holiday (or not related to a holiday!), have spare kit for unexpected drop bags (they'd said they were shoe bags but I could have packed dry clothes), carry on with core work.  On Wednesday I did two miles with the dog, and I managed a reasonable speed parkrun at Muncast Castle this weekend (with a bit of SI joint pain to pay the price). It made me feel a bit of a fraud for dropping out. Maybe I am. 

I didn't automatically sign up to next years Lap. I had promised Martin and myself that I wanted to focus on speed and fells next year, not distance, and I stick by that. I also need to do some core work, weight loss and have a bit of a mental break. I am thinking maybe the clockwise event in May 2026. My family need me a bit more at the minute (we had another family bereavement this week) and that is life. But I'm going to try sneak in some fell races, some Lakes trips, so fingers crossed for less interesting times emotionally, and more adventures
. 

A crisis of confidence? Another disappearing act

Sorry, I disappeared again. After writing out all the summer races I wanted to get to, I basically stopped racing after the ultra. I missed Boar's Head the Wednesday before, and was in the Lake for Latrigg but in no shape to run immediately post Ullswater way (plus had no dog care). I skipped the DCRO dash also due to dog care and partly because a social run was offered instead. I forgot to signup in time to Eddies revenge and then got stuck at work for Widdop. I missed Peak forest to support my sister in her first Ironman (she's been there for my last two marathon attempts and basically ran with me this year to get me through it) then was at work a few Wednesdays before having a full crisis of confidence for Turnslack (and appalling weather). I DNF'd Lowther due to the dog overheating (again no dog care) and had a bad run in the Peak Raid anytime event at Thornhill. I managed to make Black Knight charge but that is hardly a trail race, let alone a fell race, before disappearing in to a work hole for the rest of the school holidays (no kids so covering the gaps of summer) before emerging for Harrock Hill only to realise summer might have passed without me really doing what I had wanted to. I just hadn't prioritised what I loved and frankly, I was scared of what might happen when I did; I was scared of racing. 

I haven't stopped running in this time, and some things are unavoidable: two dashes to the south coast (one funeral, one wedding), my husband going away or working (and not having dog care), me having to be on call or at work. I have slotted in a reasonable amount of running where I can, and have had some great social outings. I lead a new route for Blacksheep up to Pots and Pans in Saddleworth, ran the Outside Hope Valley Round 20 mins quicker than last year (its better anticlockwise), and volunteered at two events for Craggrunner (Darren, I am never forgiving you for the lost kids at Aldermans....). But I have done more treadmill stuff than I ever had, and been fairly unadventurous in my trips out. I barely made Rivington all summer. There has been training, but it hasn't been great and it hasn't been hilly. 

I ran quite well at Black Knight. This event is in Daisy Nook country park over in Aston, and is a weird mix of muddy path and undulating hill. It also seems to have terrible weather as last year it monsooned pretty much the whole way round but this year at least it was only just before the start. Its a mass adult start with the junior event starting just after. Its a charge up a short grassy clearing before it narrows considerably on the old towpath next to the now mostly dry canal. It hard to get going on, though by the end of the race its amazingly stretched out. You do a lap on the canal and main footpath before going around again to head out in to the bulk of the course via a tunnel which is both quite dark and quite muddy. After this, its one of those twisty turny uppy down courses where you never quite know there you are. I think it was basically net up hill until 4.5 miles but in a very undulating way. I confess to walking a bit on one of those steeper slopes but it is arguably very much runnable. The front runner came back the other way distressingly early, and my friend caught me up at about mile 2 and a half, and when I managed to over take again, I made myself push hard right to the end to stay ahead. It was a decent tempo effort for midweek, and if I did that regularly I would be fit. I finished about 5 minutes faster than the year before, which over about 10k is decent effort, but the year before I'd deliberately held steady due to Lakeland 50. The finish back along the flat canal path again had felt incredibly long and I felt my legs lost power from lack of fitness; I can no longer sprint finish. 

There have also been some decent parkruns on a mixture of terrains. Having come 3rd lady at the undulating Chadderton hall (4 laps, each with the same steep ramp in them) pre ultra, I made a return to Watergrove, narrowly missing my PB, then ran Durlston Country Park which is a HILLY parkrun and had to leave Oscar half way due to the heat (slowing my time but still coming 7th lady). At Sutton Manor, I enjoyed the gravel paths to run 4th lady on its undulating loop with the Dream statue at the centre, then at Marple ran a fast course for brilliant cake at Libby's on the grassy course. Trentham Gardens was a different beast all together: there were over 600 people and dog and I did well to run 288:33 given the congestion. Then it was the notorious Clarence for another 3rd lady before the course turns to mud for the winter, and then Hyde which was not a fast course with a nice section in the woods but still a quite disappointing time: I felt I was getting slower. 

So I finally dragged myself to Harrock Hill for the last racing Wednesday of the season. I hadn't done anything fell running wise for months, and though Harrock is trail, it a pleasantly varied course with a few slippery sections. It also has that nice fell ethos of a pub at the start and bizarre prizes (in this case, the veg boxes of legend). Chorlton Runners used to get a big turn out for this series, coming home with boxes of veg in the cars. But worsening Manchester traffic and frankly decreasing numbers of racing sheep mean those days have gone. Living the right side of Manchester, I really should have gotten here sooner; it was pre-pandemic last time I race any of the series. But a handful of us made it and walked or jogged from the pub to the start line. The pub had felt busy but as we lined up, it was definitely quieter than previous years, perhaps also being the August race and so the 30 minute earlier start time. Some drove up the road through the crowd just before the start, and we did the annual 'move back' manourve. 

Then it was off up the track and I gave it some beans, remembering stopping for the bottleneck half way up in previous years (and having started quite far back due to lack of confidence). Problem was, with fewer people and perhaps some hedge trimming, the stop did not happen until we were up at the stile at the top of the hill. I was knackered! But once over the stiles I got going, chasing a lady in a pink Parkbold Panthers tee who was  loving the grassy field section. I got over taken, I over took as we wombled through fields which were abit softer than they might have been, and mud and track. I was slower than I hoped through some of the more sloggy fields but wasn't the only one suffering. I note I was mostly surrounded by people much older than me, which isn't greatly reassuring. Once we crossed the road, and on to the drive of Harrock hall, I had a little push knowing the end was not too far away. However, the fun was only just starting as the footpaths were a lot muddier than normal, and there is a narrow one between two fields that had basically turned in to a mud slide. I had worn speedgoats out of laziness and curses myself for not putting on a more aggressive shoe (in my car boot as it happens) as we skidded and slid down. I managed to catch up a bit though, and then on the woodland section made up a bit more time. But I was completely outsprinted on the road section, especially the tiny uphill kick where people clapped politely as my oversized form puffed up towards the finish. It was definitely not a PB, despite feeling like a lot of effort, but some of that may have been the mud. 

As we walked back to the pub, a glorious red sunset reminded me that it was the last of the summer racing, and for all my promises to myself, I had missed most of the season. And not just the Wednesdays. I end the season feeling unfit, heavy and surprisingly untrue to myself. Next year I must do better. I'm making plans, reflecting on the reality and promising myself to prioritise me a bit more.

But before then I have the small issue of the Lap: 47 miles around Lake Windermere and frankly I am frightened. I am undertrained and not sure I am ready to feel that pain again. I also am not sure my head is in the game. But I'll make the start line (barring disaster) and see what happens