Wallasey border league

Uninspiring run in the Border's League this weekend. Four laps of Birkenhead Park, which made judging progress easy, but I far prefer the distractions of a decent offroad run.

Lack-of-training chickens came home to roost slightly, so I was down on my normal placing. But not desperately far, so that's alright. Should get it back. Once I stop working too much/decorating/drinking too much...

It's only now with a bit of hindsight that I can really see how much the Three Peaks cx and Sandstone Trail 17m on consecutive weekends took out of me. I was definitely flat for a good couple of weeks and then sufficiently overstretched that the joint pains saw a window of opportunity to return.

On an upward curve now though I reckon. 4th counter for Helsby, behind Harry, Ian and Mike (who's going well at the moment).

Vertical chess

Two days later and I'm still chewing over the Three Peaks. I've raced quite a bit this year, more than any other, but this thing is different. Regular racing has perhaps dulled the experience — turn up, do the best you can, go home — but the Three Peaks is made of sterner stuff than most events. It's an experience you pass through, rather than a mere sporting event.

I borrowed a quote from one of Henri Desgrange's 'victims' at the birth of the Tour de France, chatting to Dave Haygarth afterwards... 'It's not sport, it's war!'. I'm sticking with that description.

In the interests of denial and sanity, I'd honestly not thought too hard about the nitty-gritty details of the race in advance, naively thinking 'It'll go'. Somehow. Sure I'd run through the place names, heights and distance, even made some half-hearted attempts to study the map. Surprising how doable those tightly-packed contours seem from the comfort of the dining room table. But I don't think any amount of pondering and chin-stroking would have prepared me for the horror of the actual event.

I was late getting the bike sorted, so happy to join the peloton pretty much at the back, where I immediately found a few friendly folk. Almost 500 riders take up a lot of road. There was an air of anticipation and plenty of gallows humour at the back.

The start was pretty low-key, the neutralised first few miles anything but. I was hammering along at 20mph, knowing it was too fast, breathing too hard ...and still getting passed. Soon enough we dropped the lead car and swung left onto the first climb. Which steadily got steeper. I passed a guy with exploded shoes and Biff with a popped calf, on their way down. Two races over too soon. We got to the bank of Simon Fell, where some folk are wont to use the wire fence as an extra handhold, before I had a proper look behind. There were only a small handful of folk behind. I began to wonder if I was out of my depth. A punter out for an enduro, in the company of athletes in a proper race.

As it got proper steep, I found my own lines out right away from the fence and crowds, and picked off places, without getting too in debt. Fell running fitness I guess. This thing went on for ages though, you go into another zone. One foot, other foot. Keep off the calves if you can. Zig-zag a bit for relief. Eventually the angle eased. More pushing, more carrying, some riding. Picked off some more places.

Ingleborough! The summit emerged from the mist and a dib of the timing chip. I'd almost forgotten why were up there, such was the single-minded demands of simply making progress. Start the descent, a bit of quality banter, a few more places. Bloke in front loses it on some rocks and brings me down. I'm back on before I've thought about damage to me or the bike. Hey! This is racing.

The descent went on for a long time, a lot of it fun. Couldn't be more different from the climb. But crikey the forearms were ready for a break by the bottom. Must. Brake. Less. Onto the road and out towards Ingleton. This was hard, lack of road fitness kicked in and I was annoyed at losing places to people I'd outridden earlier. Nobody at our end of the field works together, so there's no respite.

Whernside. More quality chat on the approach, but it's not long before we're all off and shouldering the bikes again. I try to wheel a bit when the terrain allows, saving a bit of energy. Again I'm picking off places on the climbs without really burying myself. The top is a mad place to be, on a jumped-up road bike. I chuckle to myself a little.

The descent was cruel. Rideable, not rideable, sketchy. Never time to get a real rhythm. Easy rock flags, punctuated by drainage ditches with big raised edges. Already nervous of punctures, I was wishing for more psi. I felt the rims almost bottom out a couple of time when I mistimed the un-weighting (I won't dignify the process by calling it a bunny hop).

Ribblehead was ace. Lots of support crews and cheers. Couldn't resist showboating, with a little jump over a grassy lump. More road, more lack of basic speed.

Climb up to Pen-y-ghent is unusual in that as you're inching your way up, faster riders are flying back down the same way. Again the climb went on for a long way before we even approached the top. Great support from people though. Carrying was again the order of the day nearer the top. Too steep, too rocky. Summit. Final dib of the day, turn around. Pleasantly surprised by how many folk were still on their way up. Not a super-technical descent, but I'm fighting off cramp in all sorts of places now. Back on the road and the final run in.

I passed a group of CTC riders on a Sunday run, only to suffer the indignity of being reeled back in when the road turned up and there was simply nothing left. I got them on the final bend though on the run in to the finish. That'll learn em.

Proper big event finish with commentator and crowd barriers. It's done. 308th place and 4h44, in the end. A long way from embarrassment I think you'll find.

A horrific event, but compelling.


Full results here. Pic from eddieallenbc's excellent flickr set.
[Thanks for the nudge Dave.]

Three peaks ramblings

So I was thinking why on earth would anyone want to read about an ordinary bloke trying an extraordinary event? Of course, the answer's in the question. I’m an ordinary bloke, one that makes too much noise on the internet, and the Three Peaks is clearly an extraordinary event. So clearly bonkers, that no race in the country is quite like it. Heck, the world maybe, I don’t know. Your average cyclo-cross racer is pretty good at beasting themselves for an hour. The average roadie, a little bit longer. This event seems to suit neither. But with an extraordinary event comes an extraordinary reputation, and an entry drawn from a far wider demographic than when it first got started. I’m one of those people. A curious onlooker. Perhaps you are too. If you’re a veteran of the event, you know exactly what you’re in for already and can stop reading right now.

I’ve always loved bikes, and have dabbled in a few things. I like a laugh, sometimes involving bikes, sometimes not. I like to do the odd event here and there. I’m also a family man, I fit in rides and training when I can, around work, kids, home; all that stuff. I’m guessing lots of you do to. Lately I’ve been doing a lot less riding and a lot more running. Ironically because it was the quickest way of getting tired. Now as I get older I find myself more drawn to endurance stuff and less bothered about those 30 minute blasts that seemed like the answer when Child Two was on her way. Hey ho.

Various ‘friends’ (I use the term loosely) had been encouraging me to enter the Three Peaks for a couple of years now. I’m a shrewd enough fellow, I knew they just wanted me to share their misery and see someone else suffer. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes, a 1:25,000 sheet and a sprinkle of common sense that the Three Peaks was no place for a jumped up road bike. The event was pretty much obsolete once someone had come up with the notion of the mountain bike. But still, the Three Peaks soldiers on, gloriously inappropriate. So I weakened and put an entry in, safe in the knowledge that the world and his dog had all done the same thing, the day that entries opened. I could show willing and that would be it for another year. There was a mix up at Central Clearing. I got in.

I’ve bought the bivvy bag, the OS sheet, I need to do something about the bike though. My offroad worthy bike is currently running 23mm tyres and a 70” fixed gear. Gears would seem to be a wise choice. I really do need to find some pipe-lagging too — carrying up a tiny local 400’ hill was worse than a recent filling replacement. Believe me, there was a lot of drilling.

I won’t pretend I haven’t done any training, but I know some of you folk reading this have knocked off thousands of miles this year, and with what I’ve done you’d be right to cast withering looks. But I’ve tried to make it count. Last week I did 4000’ of climbing before breakfast, without getting more than a mile from home. I consider this mental toughness training, dear reader. We had croissants in the kitchen and new packet of coffee to pop. The other day I did another 2,000’ on the bike and then ran some hill reps. It was a bit chilly and I couldn’t feel my feet for the first couple. I’m planning to take a day off and ride the singlespeed A Very Long Way. I think I’ve passed the stage where I feel completely outclassed and worried about the cut-offs. Now my main concern is getting beaten by pensioners. I know from fell running how that can knock your pride. Most of all I want to join in and take part and do justice to this great event. After all, if there weren’t a mid-pack there’d be no-one for the fast folk to beat.

See you on the start line. I’ll be the bemused looking bloke, trying to work the shifters.

Ponderosa fell race

Terrific turn out of green vests last night at a very damp Ponderosa event, a shortish friendly race starting from the Ponderosa Cafe at the top of the Horseshoe Pass.

The rain was falling pretty much till the start and the tops were invisible. Navigation was pretty straightforward with only a couple of turns to think about, all marshalled or taped. New folk are often put off fell racing by the thought of getting lost. But it's rarely an issue in my experience, so long as you don’t make the mistake of being first.

With the lure of club a few counter points boosting the Helsby turnout, the race was well attended with 132 (I think) runners, most of whom finished with a smile on their face. There were a few well fought battles out on the course. I had to chuckle at the chatter behind me at one point. The noise caught up. Shouts of 'on your right', followed by gasps of exasperation. Here's a tip from my extensive race experience - if you want to pass, run faster. No charge.

Considering the race starts with a heartbreaking climb up the access track to the aerials and finishes with a heartbreaking slog up slow, muddy trails with leaden legs, I’m still at a loss as to why we do it. Other than because it’s great, and probably defies explanation. Try it, you’ll see.

Results to come.

An afternoon on the Clwyds

Sam and I had been talking big about running the length of the Clwyds for a while now. Afternoon off work on Monday and it all came together.

Rubbish forecast, so I didn't bother packing any stuff in the car and cycled to work as normal. A glimpse of sunshine in the morning, the propoganda machine started and we talked ourselves into it. And then more 'urgent' work arrived that had to be done. Bah.

Set off via home to rustle together some gear and food and we set off on two cars, dropping Sam's off at the top end by Bodfari and then driving down to Llandegla for the start. Finally set off running at 3:30pm. The first section was pretty non-descript across muddy fields, a couple of herds of cows and bullocks. Sam lost a shoe, I realised my camelbak was leaking. We both tied a knot in them respectively.

Following the Offa's Dyke paths, which we're pretty well marked in the main, it wasn't long before we were climbing onto the first top of Moel y Plas, a new and quite wild area to me. Drop down and a quick food stop under Moel Llanfair. Steep climbing brought us to a walk up to Garreg Lwyd with the Ravens wheeling and stunting overhead. Across the only big road of the day by the Clwyd Gate Inn and onto more familiar ground on the northern section.

Moel Eithinen and Foel Fenlli skirted by and time for another foodstop. We're keeping going when we can but never getting too out of breath. All the steeps were walked to conserve energy. Climb up towards Moel Famau, the big one, following the start of the Hotfoot race. It's starting to feel like it'll go now, keep ploughing on, keep eating, don't get too tired, it'll be fine.

Very familiar ground now, across to Moel Llys-y-coed, drop down to the minor road, top up with food. Starting to feel hungry and tired now. Last quarter. Up past Moel Arthur and a fast grassy descent to the minor road wher we could let go for a change. Up onto the high moorland past yet another ancient fort and onwards towards the massive tv aerial of Moel y Parc. It's been pulling us forwards for hours now and at last is coming close. The actual Dyke drops down to Bodfari here, but we felt obliged to visit the final top, for a more fitting end to the day. Steep descent and a bit of tarmac was all that remained between us and the car. About 18 miles all in, not sure of the ascent. A leisurely 4.5 hours, for a Grand Day Out.

More pics on flickr.

Trail race up the beast

I'd like you to focus on the second half of the name of this race, not the first. Poor performance, bottom half. Something Must Be Done. I think the only only explanstion can be that none of the weak people I can normally rely on to make me look good actually turned up, such is the fearsome reputation of The Beast. 4m and 1200', not a lousy bit of flat.

28/45, 34'39"

Moel y Gamelin

Hot hot hot race. Done a bit of racing lately but not enough training between. Yesterday it showed. Tough race over the hills of Llantysilio Mountain, all four of 'em. And then back over the last two. 9.5 miles and 2700' of climbing. As per usual — what a buffoon — went off too fast. Trying to hold back, but I couldn't help snatching the overtaking opportunities ...and probably lost all of them and a few more in the second half when I was suffering like a dog.

The sting in the tail up Moel y Gamelin for the second time resembled a scene from the trenches. It was a war of attrition out there, sworn enemies sharing water and jelly babies, brave warriors reduced to a shuffle with only the thought of being heckled by Joe[1] at the top pulling them onwards. It was great!

[1] It’s almost guaranteed that wherever you race, our man Joe Beswick will pop up from behind a tree or trig point to shout encouragement. Easily worth a place or two for everyone.

The kids reckon I was 33rd.

Edit: Results 35/71, 1:45'42 from the Wrexham folk.

Roache Rumble

Superb evening run with Sam and Clive, starting in Danebridge. Up through the forest, under Hangingstone, Back Forest, Roach End, up to the trig, down to the edge of the Roaches, back to trig and Roach End, drop steeply down to the Dane, through the crazy Lud's Church chasm. Follow the Dane back to start. About an hour and half all in. Lovely to get onto the Staffordshire Moorlands again. A bit of me belongs there.

Rainow Five fell race

Rainow, a friendly little village just outside Macclesfield. Windy evening, shortish race - 5m and 750'. One fierce bank to climb, thankfully soon over, up to the curious White Nancy monument. Along the narrow ridge of Kerridge Hill, quick descent and contour back under the hill. Almost died holding off Ian from the club on the last climb (I'd managed to forget about). Ian's normally way faster than me on the flat, so I was pleased to sneak in front of him. Or maybe he's just training hard...

New course record from Simon Bailey and women's record equalled. 40' 50, 31/86

Many moels to climb

Clwydian run — Moel Arthur, Pennycloddiau, Moel Y Parc, Pennycloddiau, Moel Arthur, Moel Llys-y-coed, Moel Dywyll, Moel Famau, Moel Dywyll, Moel Llys-y-coed. Distance: a fair bit, ascent: somewhat. Cold, showery, really blustery. New jacket faultless.

Moel y gest house

Easter week in Portmadoc with the family. Moel y gest just out the back of the holiday house. Ran up four times and never went the same way twice. Some steep lung-busting work on the climbs. Quite technical ground on the top, making routefinding far from obvious.

Great views out to sea, across the estuary and towards Tremadoc and over to Snowdonia proper. About 4 miles and 900' a go. Turns out there was a WFRA race up there the week after. One to get to the frontish and avoid queuing with all the twisty turny singletrack.

Chester Spring 5

Wed 8 April. Fun race, didn't feel quite so outclassed this year. Knocked over a minute off my 5 mile time. 33'49, 125/347. Nice one West Cheshire.

Edit: beat first V65 this time. Things are looking up, watch out pensioners.

Ribble yell

Long bike ride today. Yay! First ride of more than a snatched moment or sporadic commute this year. Longest ride on the Pompino by some distance. Tell you what, riding for 4 hours on the fixed makes you realise how often with gears you do a little pocket shuffle, freewheel and raise off the saddle or otherwise 'take the pressure off'. In the second half I was looking for the smallest rise to give an excuse to get out of the saddle.

Trip to Lancaster to visit sister and cousins. Set off hours before the rest of the family and bizarrely we arrived within seconds of each other. Anyway, in the course of crossing at least four different accents, I'm giving it some beans in rural west Lancashire, just by the John Deere showroom, and this old giffer on an ancient Ribble gives that low fist shake you give to the local boy doing surprisingly well in a race against visiting professionals and lets out a fantastically childish 'Gwaaan!'. Cyclists eh, such berks at times, but also the very best of people. Kept me going for ages that little cheer. About 70 miles all in, didn't die.

Llangynhafal loop

The hills around Moel Famau belied their gentle appearance once again and handed out a severe beating.

Many times during the course of a modest 4.75 miles I wondered what on earth I was doing there. And as for the Great Stone Shoot... surely one visit would be enough to convince a fellow never to return? Not this fool. A rough count of the climbing puts it at around 1150', most of it in around a kilometre. The second half was pretty much unrunnable (although I've no idea what happens at the front of the race).

Woke up with cramp this morning. Events conspired to put me late to registration. A panic-stricken climb across fields to get to the mass start arriving tired, just as 112 runners were leaving. Begged a number from the extremely generous timekeeper with a promise to pay later. He even went to the bother of timing my delay to try to adjust the results. It wasn't long before I was on the back of the field. Passing was a nuisance, and you don't benefit from being dragged along by people of a similar pace. Blah, blah, blah. It was hard, I ran badly, I'll get over it. Total ascent for the race 1750'. Cooked.

Thanks to Alastair Tye for the pic. Great set.

Capenhurst borders league

A return to racing. Lovely morning, two laps around the Capenhurst 5k course (minus a bit). Running without my watch, plus some time out with the ankle again, so not sure how I was going really. Pretty pleased with the time of 37'12" for (I think) 5.3 miles. Bang on 7s, mustn't grumble.

First back of the Helsby lot, but really need to get fitter and move up a bit. 132/151. Next target is to get in the top half of this club series. And then save another minute and a bit to get ahead of the first V65. A modest target I think.

http://www.bordersleague.org.uk/