Pulling off the drive in to a gentle foggy day in Manchester, it looked like it was going to be a a typical autumnal fell race; a bit grey, cool and damp. So I had opted for a long sleeve top and three quarter length leggings (in classic Chorlton Runners black), plus layers for after, for the penultimate race of the club series. This was a bit of a mistake. As I wound down the A6 to Buxton, the edge of the cloud was found, and a glorious autumn day had settled on the town. Red and yellow leaves dropped to the dry pavements of Buxton as I walked from my parking space at Poole Cavern ot the Burbage Institute. We were in for a treat.
The Burbage Institute is a lovely village hall style building with some lovely stained glass features. It was a fab place to drop off bags but more importantly eat sandwiches and cake afterwards. The Buxton Rotary club were even called in marshal and provide catering.
We gathered on the road outside for the start, and a short briefing was given from a step ladder by the RD. There was a crowd of about 100 people, most of them lean and fit and I had been quite anxious about coming last. And then we were off up the road that leads to the hills. Bishops lane was not a steep climb but it was continuous, though we eventually turned off to head on to a footpath on to Wild Moor. I had bumped in to someone who had helped me get in to trail running many years ago. I think he was abit disappointed to see me, especially when I got in front.
The top of the moor came a lot sooner than I expected. I had never taken this path before and I think I have found a new favourite in the Peaks. The sunshine was beaming down and what I am assured is often a muddy path was wonderful dipping trail across the moor next to the brook.
A quick dog leg took us down to the bottom of the dam and up the steps to the track on the far side. Presently again there was a route confusion but by chance I took the correct one. This was one the busier sections of the route. This section was a well made path and very runnable, so naturally I felt knackered on it!
Eventually we wiggled through the car park at the end of the damn, dodging the odd dog enjoying their autumn walk. On the far side we joined a track that rises, then dips in to a clough before climbing steeply out the otherside to the first checkpoint where I made sure to refill my water bottle as I knew the big climb was about to start.
Going up the track to the farm, the farmer was washing a nice slurry down towards us. But after the farm we were on a more grassy path that climbed towards trees. It just kept going (or so it felt) and many of us were walking. Being heavy and slow I did lose a few places but it was a beautiful climb. There was a little drop in to some woods which was a bit of respite but frankly, I was boiling. Towards the top we took another dip in to the trees and turned left and people started to move away from me. I was struggling a bit.
The climbers were sat out on Windgather rocks, bellaying their friends up and down. There were also some walkers admiring the rock formations. But we were heading gradually up and along the ridge. I am confident that this ridge is more fun in the opposite direction (which is net down hill), and I found myself taking walk breaks even before we crossed the road. I fuelled and drank, then became aware I was already running out of water; how did that happen. My stomach cramped and I managed to get a salt tablet in.
I walked up to Pym's chair then made myself run off the top. There were quite a few people on this popular path, but initially its not a problem as it broad and grassy. You can't get too lost as you just follow the high ground along! But eventually I hit the flagged section and was trying to not upset walkers as we crossed and passed. I was slightly behind a group so people had already got fed up with them by the time the hit me and so were not always very sympathetic (understandably). But I could see Shining Tor seemingly miles away. Either side the views over the Peak district were looking amazing, with moorland and lumpy hills. Fortunately the salt tablets were working and my stomach settled. I was really glad to see the left turn off Shining Tor to do the dip. Going down I realised I wasn't doing brill but on the up I fractionally gained on a few people ahead of me.
The path down to the valley is a mixed bag, starting off more like a Lakeland path and then becoming lovely and boggy, popping out at a stream and then dropping through some trees to eventually drop on to the road and the next water point. I had run out of water at the top so was pleased to see this. I had caught up and overtaken a few people in front of me, enjoying some suprisingly efficient descending that felt a bit like old me. This path is such a weird one as it is never quite anything and you feel you traverse through environments somehow; its hard to explain.
I lost one of the places I had gained on the down as I refilled my water bottle but I would have probably lost it anyway as now we were doing the dreaded bracken climb out the valley. This climb is also on the Peak Skyline race but at least the bracken has died back at bit by now. I think I did it quicker this time, and certainly felt less dead. I hung on to the group ahead of me, keeping them as close as possible making me work a bit harder up the hill.
The edge of the bracken came, and then to top of the moor with its finger post. I tried to push off the top but I really struggled and lost another place. I think part of me was scared to push, not knowing exactly how much I had at the end, and what the terrain was. But eventually we bobbled on to the track and then the road and the final rotary club marshal channeled us in to a left turn that looked very much like someone's drive. Ahead of me the group had pulled away but one lady had fallen off the back and I could catch up with her. I knew I would have to push to get in under 3 hours.
But then I could see the finish line two fields down and my legs suddenly kicked in to life. I nearly caught the lady in front but felt a bit mean over taking with less than 50 meters to go. I crossed the line and felt terrible. Exhilerated, but terrible. I sat down then lay down which is something I rarely do. But given how much I had feared the race, I had given a reasonable account of myself.
The rotary club put on sandwiches, soup and cake for donations after and this went down very well. We sat and chatted long enough to be offered second rounds of left over cake which is always a bonus. And then I drove through the glorious hills to drop in to the cloud that was still sitting over Manchester.
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