This article was written for Axe Valley Runners' May '00 newsletter.
What were you doing at 9am on Bank Holiday Monday? I was running off Fairfield in the Lake District with clear blue skies, a light breeze and a couple of Grizzlers for company ... wonderful!
You may remember that I did the Great Lakeland Trail Race a couple of years ago. This was the same event with a name change as it's not actually a race but rather "a fell adventure for competent hill folk." It saw a motley assortment of forty people run, walk and stagger something like 30+25+20 fell miles (i.e. long, rough and hilly!) over three days.
The first day I started too fast (what's new?) and was soon struggling. I walked up a small hill that I'd been able to run after 17 hours on the Bob Graham Round and even walked across some level fields until I saw the checkpoint whereupon I started jogging so the organiser wouldn't think I was going soft! Then onwards and upwards with another ten miles and two peaks to bag before finally stumbling to the finish campsite where a real treat awaited ...
'Twas a hot shower and it felt soooo good! An evening of socialising, carbo-loading, rehydration and excruciating cramp followed. At one point I was stuck in my tent for 20 minutes, completely unable to move due to simultaneous spasm in four muscles of my left leg and two of the right! Luckily I had no problems once I'd settled down to sleep, other than being woken by a dawn chorus at 100 decibels!
So Day 2 arrived and, after preparing myself thoroughly by having my Weetabix, I was off again, initially in the company of the first Dutchman to have completed a Bob Graham Round. We chatted all the way to the first peak, covering many subjects including fell running, 24-hour track running and ... well, other running! Then I pushed on ahead and a few hours later was at the mid-way road crossing. Drink was drunk, talk was talked and a very nice young lady asked me what I needed! I resisted temptation and settled for some suncream before pushing onwards and gratifyingly not very upwards.
I met a hash coming the other way while passing through a gungy bit. "Uh oh, shiggy!" one of them shouted. "Luvly-duvly!" I replied, which raised a laugh. A few hills and a three-mile linear bog later I stumbled in to that night's campsite and had a bath in the stream. I didn't suffer from cramp that evening but was walking rather strangely due to shot quads and chafing in uncomfortable places!
Another morning, another bionic dawn chorus! My awkward gait improved once I got going, this time in the company of a couple of Grizzlers, one of whom has run the hundred mile Cotswold Way within 24 hours and the other of whom does events like the 240-mile Grand Union Canal run and the 150-mile Spartathlon in Greece. Excellent company for a day's fell-bashing!
What a place it was to be on a bright, sunny morning. No-pressure running, excellent views, good company ... 'twas uplifting stuff indeed. Two long, stiff climbs and one sub-vertical descent to the half-way road crossing. Then another long climb followed by more ups, downs and rounds about. The rocky paths eventually gave way to good, level turf making excellent running for half a dozen miles then ten minutes of road back to the place we had left two days before.
All in all 'twas another excellent weekend in the hills with 75 more miles in my legs, 19 more happy hours in my memory and more friends with whom I hope to run again.