Trying to time your arrival at a fell race about 2 hours drive away is challenging, but we did quite well to arrive at the pub in Stiperstones in time to get parked in the allocated yard. We also timed it to arrive at the same time as my parents, aunt and grandmother all fresh from their Christmas day. I had talked them in to coming for a walk whilst I ran before we headed to the parent's house for Boxing Day. And boy was it properly cold!
The Devil's Chair Dash is a classic up and back fell race starting by a pub and taking place on Boxing day. The pub was open in arrival though registration took place in the garden, which had a good going frost as the sun wasn't getting over the top of the hill for a few hours. We bundled in to the pub which was happy to serve coffee and mulled wine (well, it is Christmas) to runners and spectators. It was bustling and I believe nearly 200 people registered. 'Nut jobs' was my Dad's description I think.
Looking up at the hill, I felt a bit nervous. Silhouetted against the sun, it looked very daunting with its steep sides and high ridgeline. Mum and I walked a little way up the road that formed the start and it wasn't icy which was a relief. That would come later. I left them all tucked warmly in the pub and walked to the start line 50m down the road. They promised they'd get out for a walk shortly....
The start line was buzzing with mostly locals though I think there were a few vest from further afield. Some poeple were braving vest and shorts but I was bundled up in long sleeve and long trousers. And a santa hat. A few other people had something festive on but plenty were clearly going to be serious. A nice lady chatted to me at the start line and it was nice to feel a bit more welcome than the last Shropshire race I did!
Without much fanfare we were off! It was a bustle to get over the start, people jostling slightly to get going, all paces mixed together. But we were soon jogging up a short steep section of road and then on to the flatter section, and then a slight dip before it began to rise again. I did start walking quite early initially counting paces, then just stomping.
At the end of the road it became a track up through a field which had patches of ice. I vered off the path to run next to it slightly, as did many others. A few people were lining the route to cheer on friends and family, and it was very jolly even if we were dodging ice as we reached the top. At the top the field turned more to scrub then moorland and we narrowed on to a steeper path that definitely had ice and I made a note to not go too mad on the way down.
Just as the path flattened on to the top of the moor, Harry Holmes came shooting down, already on the return leg. Ah what a dream to run like that. But I focused on getting myself running again after the hands on knees section, past a pack of supporters standing in the now visible sunshine. We joined the main track along the ridge line. This was rocky and uneven, patched with bits of ice, and there was the start of two way traffic. You could see the turn point in the distance; a massive rock outcrop known as the Devil's Chair.
I tottered along, failing to get any rhythm up, unable to pass the older gentleman in front of me with the oncoming traffic, but enjoying the marvellous view and sunshine on my skin. The sky was blue and you could probably see for miles. One to come and explore another day I think.
As you reach the turn around it gets rockier and you have to cross the heather. I did this with little grace and nearly tilted head long in to the volunteer (I think from the miners' club) who stamped my hand. And then it was back across the rocks and heather to the rocky track and back the way we had come. People bobbled about on the rocks and ice, over taking a bit more now there was thinner traffic coming the other way.
Then we hit the steep and I decided to take the heather over the ice. By now, people on Boxying day walks were starting to climb the hill and most cheered and dived out the way as a volley of fellrunners came towards them, a few looked terrfied and there was the odd huff. I was about average going down hill, not the fastest but defniitely doing better than some. God bless my mudclaws! Down through the field we skidded on loose ground and deep frost. Towards the bottom I stayed on the track, following the melt water to try avoid ice which sort of worked.
Then we hit the tarmac and suddenly any advantage I had was gone. A few people passed, clearly faster runners. But I put in as much speed as I could, even coming up the other side of the dip, to finish is just under 45 minuntes. I had sort of expected to see my family somewhere on the way down and looked around but they weren't there. Had they not made it out the pub??
I spent the next half an hour looking in the pub and sending texts, only to find my Mum, Nan, Aunt and husband had gone for a walk and got a bit lost, whilst my Dad was still near the finish line, but stood behind a post box, worried I was having a terrible race as he hadn't seen me come in.... It was quite funny and we retreated to the pub (which was now having a power cut! disaster!) before trailing back to Mum's for Boxing Day lunch.
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