Bullock Smithy 2012

 "To some people its just another challenge walk, to others its the most important date in the calender."
(Quentin Blagg in his piece - "One Man's Challenge. A History of the Bullock Smithy Hike")

On the first full weekend in September contenders gather in Devonshire Park for the annual foray across the Peak District. Many will have recced the route, debated kit choice and planned strategy ahead of the annual gathering in Hazel Grove.  This year''s entry was almost a record with 300+ participants signing up for the 56 mile challenge, the aim being to propel themselves over 7,000ft of ascent and descent through a circular route across the dark and white peak district and all to be completed within 24 hours. This year the Bullock Smithy was part of the UK Ultra distance championships.
 

Founder, John Corfield and I

The sun shone occasionally through distant broken clouds as we arrived like lemmings at the Scout Hut in Hazel Grove. There is a balance to be struck between moving efficiently through registration and kit check but on the other hand, enjoying the atmosphere and renewing annual acquaintances with other serial contenders. It was good to see one of the founding fathers of the event, John Corfield at the start. Each year he travels from Shropshire to watch people suffer in the event that he devised in the mid 1970's. Kit check and registration went well and I returned to the car to grease the inner thighs and tape the nipples.

 

  

Over the years the Bullock Smithy has become a family affair in the extended Rushworth clan. Perhaps eight or so relations have completed the Bullock Smithy including my partner Tracy who went round in 22:40 in 2005. I was then thrilled when my fifteen year old nephew showed renewed interest this year. Seanie put in a summer's training shuttle running up Shutlinglsoe with his friends, romped round the Peaker's Stroll then signed up for "the Bullock".
 

Nick & Mick - Grandslammers

The anvil was struck at noon releasing the collective excitement from the the balloon of Devonshire Park as 300 outdoor people burst out to cross the Peaks. I ran down the A6 and watched Neil Thompson of Stockport Harriers disappear at pace. I caught up with Chris Davies who was surprised that there wasn't a bigger pack of runners at the front. He needn't have worried, I glanced behind and there were plenty of people in pursuit. The route took us up Towers Road, across the fields on through Higher Poynton before arriving in Lyme Park and on to the first checkpoint at Bow Stones. We were now out in open countryside.  The intermittent sun had become more apparent. The thin clouds in the sky were high and not able to shield the rays. It became increasingly evident that we were in for a hot one this year.

 

We continued to the Moorside Hotel. I took a slightly different route across the moor which would have worked well if I had taken a better line. The climb to Chinley went well. I tried to conserve energy. I was concerned that I might have gone off a little fast. I knew the majority of the climb was in the first 30 miles and given that it was so hot, it made sense to run conservatively through the first half.  I staggered up Chinley with a runner who had travelled from Brighton to take part, he reminded me to appreciate the view. From the top of Chinley Churn, the clear sunlight lit up the Peak District as far as the eye could see. The dark peaks and green valleys were inviting, they would be the playground for the next nine hours or so, fantastic!   

At the drinks stop at Peep 'o' Day I guzzled half a litre of fluid and refilled my bottle to take with me. "the heat would take victims", I thought. I didn't want to be one of them. I drank lots this year, perhaps 500ml at each checkpoint and almost the same amount in between. The next climb is the longest, rising to Edale Cross at 541m. I met Nigel Aston (another repeat offender) and we negotiated the flagged steep embankment into the valley before the climb to Edale Cross. I was able to run sections of the climb to Edale Cross still accompanied in sorts by Nigel, Tony Audenshaw and one other. The stoney trail winds up around the side of the magnificent Kinder Scout. There was plenty of other folk using the path and enjoying the sunshine. I enjoyed the views of the fells to the my right and back towards where we had come from. I questioned where nephew Maguinness might be up to.

 

Steve Holt gives final instructions

 

 

There was a mass on spectators at the checkpoint at Edale Cross. I was grateful for the round of applause as I paused momentarily for the official to clip my tally card. I romped on towards the steep rugged stepped descent of Jacob's Ladder. This year I decided to take a few minor route changes, one of which was going straight ahead at the left turn mid way down Jacob's Ladder. I went through the gate and proceeded down the steep bank. Oh dear. The bank was too steep and there was no path, instead it was a scramble down all the way to the stream at the bottom. To make matters worse I had taken Nigel and another runner with me! At the bottom we were reunited with Tony.  I was later to learn that we were all more or less together at the point where we diverted. At the finish I asked Nigel for his opinion on my route choice, he remained  silent but the disapproving, slow shakes of his head and taught jaw, confirmed to me that the stepped path is the preferable option next year! 

I managed to pull away from my compatriots on the way to Edale. The sun was beginning to take its toll. I felt thirsty for the first time and decided I was going to increase my fluid intake. I had been drinking lots but such a warm day required more. On arrival at Edale I was surprised to see Neil Thompson of Stockport Harriers sat down on a chair.  As I ran down the road at Bow Stones I  had watched Neil disappear round the moor after the Moorside far in the distance. Neil should have been the best part of a hour ahead but appeared to have come to grief. Sadly chaffing in the nether regions meant he had to retire. Edale is a welcome checkpoint, I always dwell a little longer to take on rice pudding and chat with volunteers Val and Brian Dooley who look after the checkpoint with their friends.

 

I left Edale feeling good, refuelled and well watered. There was no sign of Tony or Nigel and given Neil's untimely retirement I had moved up the field by default. I was however only 15 miles in with a long way left to run. The 3 mile trip to Castleton is short but includes a climb over the Great Ridge via Hollins Cross. The sun continued to batter down but the views and motivational value of the brightness made the difficulty of the heat well worth it. After descending Hollins Cross,  I meandered my way through tourists and cars to the checkpoint. it was good to see Tracy out in support after lunch with friends. Jam sandwiches was the order of the weary runner ahead of the climb to Peak Forest at 24 miles.

Approaching Brand top

This was my 21st attempt at a Bullock Smithy and If I successfully got round it would be my 17th completion after failing on my first four attempts. Every other year I have taken the Cave Dale route to Peak Forest but I have always been tempted by the route via the side of Peveril Castle. I should have learnt my lesson at Jacob's Ladder but again I decided to do it differently this year.  I had been told the route involved a runnable path at the summit. I never found the runnable path at the summit. Perhaps i did find it but I was too tired to run it.  The hill up the side of the castle is steep. I decided to take a direct hit at it rather than extending the misery with a diagonal incline.That slope needs replacing! I really laboured up that bank. I alternated between hands on knees, hands behind my back and during moments of desperation hands on the ground on all fours. There were frequent amounts of fluid falling from my forehead and I hoped it was the water from my buff  which I had drenched in a stream rather than pure sweat from my body. Eventually I reached the top and then of course there was another top and then another. Eventually I reached the summit where the path from Cave Dale merges with the route that I had chosen. I saw a familiar face, Steven Jackson (another repeat offender) emerging out of Cave Dale. We ran together to Peak Forest and noticed that a runner with a green top was chasing in pursuit across the moor.

I ran out of the check point at  Peak Forest and took a banana with me. I had already stuffed lots of ready salted crisps down the hatch washed down with refreshing lemon cordial. I shuffled up the road and walked up the steep incline whilst eating the banana. I was still feeling surprisingly good at this point. I usually have at least one low point during a run of this distance but this year I escaped feeling relatively good throughout. The next checkpoint would be 28 miles, half way round the course. I calculated that I might get there by 5pm which was making my sub ten hour dream unrealistic. I was far from bothered, it was a hot day, I was enjoying the event and was running towards the top of the field. By Miller's Dale I think Stephen Watts, Chris Davies and Robin Houghton were the only people in front so it was a case of keeping the wheels turning and ploughing on.

Miller's Dale can be a difficult place. There is soup which will no doubt be appreciated by the walkers later on but soup doesn't sit well on a runners stomach. I am also aware of the impending stiff, horrible climb up the road towards Chelmorton which greets you after you leave the checkpoint. Contenders also have to block "half way" thoughts out of their minds. I retired twice at Miler's Dale when I was younger. The thought of turning round and running back the same distance you had come was terminal for me twice. It was only after I learnt to  focus solely on the next six mile stretch that I was able to carry on. I wondered if my nephew would make it past Miller's Dale later in the day.

The climb up that road is grim. Every year I seem to get caught by other runners as I labour towards the junction at the top. This year was no different. As I approached the A6 Julian Brown caught up and it turned out, like last year, we would run on together to the finish. On the approach to Chelmorton the red arrows gave us a fly past. More honestly, the formation was entertaining crowds at Chatsworth House and we were unintended beneficiaries. We quaffed jam doughnuts at the checkpoint and ran to Earl Sterndale at 36 miles. This was great running, the sun was shining brightly affording extensive view across the rolling undulating pastures of the white peak. The smoke from the red arrows illustrated the blue sky in the distance. The increasing pains and strains of the event were forgotten as we ran steadily along the tracks and fields to Earl Sterndale.

 

 

 

Julian Brown leaves Chelmorton

On the approach to Earl Sterndale a pack of cows surrounded the stile that we had to negotiate. I've been in these fields and seen angry cows before. I was scared. If I'd have been by myself I would have diverted but Julian is a brave man. His direct line approach towards any type of cattle was a technique I would witness more than once. He ran straight towards the pack "come on they are only curious" he assured me as I tailed cautiously behind. The cows scattered as we approached then closed in behind us. Believe me, I was through that stile in no time. Julian followed unconcerned some seconds later.

We were caught on the way to Earl Sterndale by a Colin Lough. We later learnt that he had taken a slightly different route to us through the adjacent fields. Colin encountered some angryier cows on the way. The cows had charged him. It was clear from the way he relayed his story that he had been involved in a nasty encounter that had shaken him. At the finish a supporter confirmed that she had been watching the encounter from the summit of an adjacent hill and she too was worried for his safety.

We ran on to Earl Sterndale and were surprised to find Stephen Watts who was suffering with stomach issues. Stomach pain and sickness was a feature of many peoples events this year, perhaps caused by the hot weather or excessive amounts of potions consumed to cope with the hot weather? We walked out of Earl Sterndale, Stephen agonised over the decision to continue or retire. He continued and the four of us, Chris, Julian, Stephen and I ran on towards Brand Top. In the valley before the climb to the barking dogs I noticed a obstacle in our path. "A bull!" I cried. I am self confessed wimp when it comes to animals. For the second time in as many legs I had to participate in Julian's direct line approach as I took cover in his wake. The bull ran on away from us down the path. I guarantee that If I had tried the same technique, the opposite outcome would have happened.

The four of us got to Brand Top unscathed. Stephen had run a strong leg but his stomach issues remained and forced him to retire. , Julian, Chris and I ran on towards Cumberland Cottage at 43 miles. We took the fields from Brand Top as the sun began to come down and the relentless sunshine faded. I enjoy the stillness of the route to Cumberland Cottage, the shadow of the Roaches looms far in the early dusk distance and the peak of the the Macclesfield Matterhorn, Shutlingsloe stands grandly ahead. The impending close of the day adds an eeriness to the remote paths around three shires head before the next stiff climb to the A53. It is always good to get through Cumberland Cottage before dark so as to negotiate the rocky path in the last of the evening dusk. We surprise the checkpoint staff who are lighting a wood fire in the bare stone cottage. I consume two rounds of fruit cake, Julian takes a breather and Colin changes his top.   After leaving Cumberland Cottage we encounter a runner coming up the path. It's Neil King, another previous finisher that has come out to support Stephen Watts, oh dear. We explain Stephen's woes as the four of us trundle on towards the grim road section to Walker Barn. 

 

The Red Arrows love the Bullock Smithy

 

 

It was good to see Neil Thompson at the bottom of the path. Neil had come to grief at Edale earlier in the day but instead of staying at home licking his wounds he decided they were in too sensitive an area and instead came out to support, a good illustration of the camaraderie of the event.  Neil (King) and Chris pulled away when we reached the road, leaving Julian and I to continue alone. It turned out Neil did Chris a good turn by navigating from Cumberland Cottage all the way to the disused railway track at Whitely Green. It enabled Colin to use his better strength to good effect rather than have to wait for Julian and I to navigate. Further supporters pulled alongside during the road to Walker Barn, the warmth of their cars looked inviting. It was clear that we were running back towards civilisation. As we ran over the brow of the hill before the descent to Walker Barn, the views of the rolling hills gave way to the lights of the Greater Manchester conurbation which twinkled softly in the distance.  

 

I was hanging on at Walker Barn with about twelve miles to go. Agonisingly so close to the finish but yet so far. 47 miles in with 9 remaining seems comfortable but  then, a run from Walker Barn to Hazel Grove would be a significant run on any day. Julian and I stealed through the streets of Bollington, on to the canal towpath and the checkpoint at Whitely Green. I thought we were in fourth position at this point which was great,.

 

Nephew Magunniess congratulated by his sister, Erin.

 

 

The final leg involves the Middlewood way. Miles of endless, straight, disused railway track, flanked by steep embankments at either side. The embankments obscure the view and restrict the moonlight, you might as as well be running in a tunnel. The bridge which marks the end of the nightmare never seems to arrive. Eventually it does and we climb up the steps to the road. More stealing through the residential streets of Higher Poynton  bring us to the penultimate straight down Towers Road. Passing the occasional dog walker who looks bemused as we trundled past looking dishevelled and lighting our way with torches we arrive at the A6. Ye Ha! almost home. We pick up the pace to the finish and I feel relief mixed with a bit of sadness that such a great day is almost over. We enter the scout hut, 4th in 10 hour 36 minutes.        

 

Finishers are rewarded with a cooked breakfast.The scout hut was quieter this year, the winners Chris Davies and Robin Houghton had already left for a well deserved rest. The pair ran in together in 9 hours 43 minutes. The previous weekend Robin Houghton won the 87 mile Ridgeway Challenge.While we ate other runners returned to rounds of applause. First lady was Julie Gardner in 11:21 and I understand that Julie will this week fly out to Italy to compete in another ultra race next weekend.  Liveish results were being broadcast on a projector which we viewed as we ate. It was great to see that my nephew had gone through Earl Sterndale in good time, his sitser Erin had got to Miller's Dale. The next day after the presentation we watched my nephew somehow manage a sprint finish in 23:08, nice one Seanie, a fine achievement.  

Never again?

Many thanks to all the helpers who give up their time to make the event so enjoyable. Special thanks to Tracy for her support and photos which illustrate this post.

 

Results

 

Photos

 

Bullock Smithy 2012 preview (and another significant event)

The first full weekend in September is the date traditionally reserved for the Bullock Smithy Hike. The event involves a 56 mile circuit through the Peak District which starts and finishes at Hazel Grove in Stockport and is organised by the dependable and well organised, 3rd Hazel Grove Scout Group. This year the date has further significance within the ultra running community as it is shared with both the Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc (UTMB) and more significantly the Dragon's Back race in Wales. The Dragon's Back is a 200 mile endurance epic that has only been run once before in 1992. It begins at 7am on Sunday morning three hours before the Bullock Smithy presentation!

 

The Dragon's Back is an endurance run of unparallelled difficulty. Many consider it to be the toughest endurance race ever organised.The race involves running over the spine of the Welsh Dragon from Conway Castle in the North to Carreg Cennen Castle in the South, with the minor obstacle of 45,000ft of the harshest Welsh Mountain territory in between. The legend of the Dragon's Back is best understood by watching the footage from the 1992 event. The Independent has also previewed the race. Fellow Bullock Smithyers might be interested to know that many of next weeks Dragon's Back entrants have run previous Bullock Smithy's, including the most revered female Dragon's Backer who won the event in 1992 with her partner Martin Stone. Scan your finger down the 1999 Bullock Smithy results, It wont be long before you find her.

 

In 1999 I approached the summit of Chinley Churn then scrambled down to the check point which lies underneath the rocks. As usual I was out of breath after the long ascent from Furness Vale. Just as I checked in I was met by a female runner that appeared to have run the long route from Whalley Bridge. "Oh hello, that's a crafty route you took?" she said easily as she pointed to the map in her hand. I tried to catch my breath to explain that I'd run the event many times before and that the route from Furness Vale was generally favoured but the tanned, long legged female literally sprang off down the hillside towards the drinks stop at Peep 'o' Day.

 

That chance meeting had a big impact on me, I have never forgotten it. The female that I had encountered looked supremely fit, absolutely glowing, she had long tanned legs and was tall and thin but looked very powerful. The woman was as visually fit as I had ever seen anybody before or since. I remember trying to keep up with the woman as she bounded off with long strides down the hill. I floundered hopelessly in her wake. I was so impressed (or so embarrassed) that when I got to the roadside drinks stop I had to talk about it. "Did you see that, did you see that woman, where is she?" I asked. It was too late. I had no idea who she was but she had left for Edale Cross. I didn't see her again - not even at the finish.

 

I was later to learn that I had been privileged to meet Helene Diamantides (now Helen Whitaker) one of the best endurance athletes of all time and the woman who doesn't recognise gaps between male and female performance. Diamantides had driven from Scotland to take part in the Bullock Smithy in 1999, she finished 2nd in 9 hours 22 minutes then got straight back in her car and drove back home to Scotland. It is widely believed that if she knew the route as well as Bullock Smithy legend Tony Okell (previous winner of the Tour of Tameside among other notable achievements) who came home first, she would have won. Helene finished ahead of another endurance great, Mark Hartell which further underlines the significance of her run, and all whilst navigating with a map. There's a brilliant piece of footage (here at 7:47 in) where Diamantides and Stone run to a checkpoint in the 1992 Dragon's Back event. Stone appeals to find a stream or stay at the checkpoint long enough to have a drink but Diamantides is having none of it, directing that instead her partner must "take water with him" you can almost feel the desperation as if Stone re-recognises the colossal partner that he has become involved with, as he mutters "oh God". Helen Whittaker doesn't run quite as much these days but the lure of the Dragon has tempted her back. She will line up with the cream of international mountain runners in Conway again next Sunday morning. I am just as excited to see how the Dragon's back unfolds as to see how my own fitness carries me round the Bullock Smithy. To be able to witness the bravery and heroics of these people who can push themselves further than I dare dream is just as interesting for me as taking part in my own less demanding events.       

 

This years Bullock Smithy is again incorporated within the UK ultra distance championships. Hopefully that will attract more participants and make up for any loss of entrants who have bigger fish to fry. I understand that some of the Macclesfield Harriers regulars have a date with the dragon including another revered athlete who came second in 92. That  should leave Stockport Harriers to continue their recent dominance of the event. I am also aware of many particiants who will toil for the best part of 24 hours to hike around the course. Whether you are running or walking, looking for a time or just wanting to 'get round' it should be a good event on a great weekend for British endurance running.     

 

Roll on next weekend!

    




      

Long Tour of Bradwell 2012

The Long Tour of Bradwell involved a distance of 33 miles, 6,300' of ascent, navigational mayhem, a fight with a tree and a trip to Chesterfield Hospital. Thankfully I finished.

Go!!!

The weather forecast had predicted a hot one. It was difficult to get out bed at 5.45am but thankfully Tracy agreed to drive so I could get a couple more hours shut eye during the journey. Bradwell  lies in the heart of the glorious Peak District. We arrived from Grantham by 8am for a 9am start and the weather was overcast but warm. lots of familiar faces were present milling about taping ankles, packing bumbags or days sacs and generally keeping busy awaiting the start. Fifteen minutes before 9am we were escorted from the pavilion to the centre of the village to gather, ahead of the start. The horn honked promptly at 9am and off we went to suffer. 

The route climbs out Bradwell and across a moor to the top of Cave Dale. I have ascended Cave Dale many times, the Bullock Smithy, the Peaker's Stroll and the High Peak 40 are but three events that I can think of that all use the route. It was refreshing, for a change to run down through the valley which is flanked by steep, limestone out crags all the way to Castleton. I had been given two separate pieces of advice from learned long tourers, start slowly and start slowly. I started gingerly and by Castleton I had woken up, the sun was threatening the overhanging clouds and I felt good about the day ahead. I predicted that the run might take between 4 and 5 hours. that was the first mistake.  

Cave Dale

After Castleton the route climbs to Hollins Cross before a straight descent to Edale. By the summit of Hollins Cross I could see  across the valley. Kinder Scout was covered in mist. I had purchased a plotted route map for £3 but I noticed the checkpoint was in a difficult position off the path at the summit of the plateau. I was a little anxious about finding the control but there were plenty of runners to follow in front of me and I had printed off some route tips which were given to me from a previous participant. We descended off Hollins Cross and ran on through Edale village pausing at a checkpoint for water and biscuits. The route took us past the Nag's Head (the start or finish of the Pennine Way) and out to climb the magnificent Kinder Scout. I was reduced to a walk up the steep winding path towards Ringing Roger. My route tip suggested a path after a small cairn. I found the cairn and the path was confirmed by another runner heading off into the mist in front of me. At the summit there was enough visibility to see the control at Druid's Stone but it involved a scramble across heather gause to get there.   After the Checkpoint at Druid's Stone a scramble back across the heather before a steep descent out of the mist and back into the Edale valley.

It was warm by now and apparent that this route involved a lot of climb including rough terrain. My initial enthusiasm and contempt was put into check as we climbed back up to the Great Ridge ahead of a run across the top to Loosehill and a descent towards Hope. The checkpoint near Hope was at Killhill Bridge at the same position as the checkpoint for the Peaker's Stroll which I had visited some weeks earlier. From the bridge the route crosses the lower parts of WinHill, then on towards Ladybower before a switch back to Bamford.

I had cast an eye over the route before leaving the start and was quite sure that we had to climb to the summit of Winhill. I knew we had to depart in a differnt direction to the Peaker's Stroll route but i was certain that we were required to get to the summit. The field of runners had by now started to thin out. I had walked out of Killhill Bridge eating a complimentary cliff bar and washing down an electrolyte drink to combat the sweat loss which I was experiencing in the warm conditions. I had to resort to the route description and map to find my way. About two miles after leaving the checkpoint I saw a sign post for Win hill. I decided to pocket the route description, save myself some time and just take a straight line following the signposts to the summmit. Thankfully as I ran merrily up the road Peter Barr of Retford AC was coming back to me. Peter suggested we had gone wrong. I protested the sign post but it was then explained to me that we weren't supposed to summit Win hill but instead run around it. I wasn't sure. I got out my map and pointed confidently to the organiser's instruction which read, in red bold type "you must visit the summit". I was very embarrassed when peter pointed out that I was pointing at the Loosehill the summit that we had just visited. Peter saved me a summit of Win hill and if you read on you will notice it was not the only time he saved me during my 'Longer Tour of Bradwell'.  I ran on to Bamford and watched Peter disappear out of sight ahead of me. 

Nick Ham - Grand Slam

After Bamford there is another difficult climb up a track apparently known locally as 'the escalator' which leads all the way up to Stanage Edge. I got lost on here too. I carried on the road, into a farm yard and out the other side. I was suspicious when I entered a field. It didn't feel right so I retreated and saw a host of other runners slogging up the escalator adjacent to the road which I had followed. I should have beared right. The errors meant I was slipping down the field, I had lost rhythm and pace and had to gee myself on a bit. The escalator was however sure to knock a bit more out of me.

My race tips had included a warning that the checkpoint control was before the summit. I was informed that previous participants in other years had missed it. Thanks to my instructions I found the control just off the path and fairly hidden from the main route. This event uses electronic dibbers to accurately record your time. I dibbed my electronic dibber which I had affixed to my wrist into the plastic hole housing, It beeped and I ran on. Just before the summit I saw Peter Barr running back again. I hadn't seem him since he ran away from me after my 'Win Hill moment'. I knew I hadn't gone wrong this time, he'd missed the checkpoint. He had ran perhaps half a mile further on to the summit and had to retrace his steps. "Soul destroying", I thought. 

Great running follows the high ridge all the way to Upper Burbage Car park. My momentum had come back. I felt like I was running through the sky, the sun was now shining brightly it was humid and there were fantastic views stretching out across the hope valley. "This was brilliant running" I thought, as I ran strongly across the ridge towards Burbage car park. I ran this section with a Paul Booth of Pennine Fell Runners. Paul was undertaking his final long run before the Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc in a few weeks time. 

Crossing Stanage Edge

There are three route choices to Burbage Bridge I chose the middle route but missed a turn off at the bottom and had to ask for the help of a couple of passing dog walkers who relocated me on the map. I was pretty spent by this point and it was either ask for help or waste time helping myself, the former seemed preferable. I ran down the road, not far wrong but enough for another bevy of runners to gazump me one of which included Peter Barr! I was actually grateful to find another pack of runners, Paul from Pennine had run on stronger than I and the next section to Upper Padley was difficult to navigate. Eventually after trusting a previous year's participant we found the 14th checkpoint.

After we had all dibbed in there ensued a debate about the correct way to go. The group of perhaps six of us was split 50/50 about whether to go right or drop through the wooded valley. In a fit of pique I must have remembered my master map reading skills and decided to form my own opinion. I looked at the map and was confident we just had to head down until we would eventually find the railway. A member of the opposing group had a GPS but it was only a GPS on his watch so I judged it wasn't worth relying on, another mistake. The group split, two runners followed my and the others headed off in a different direction following the GPS strapped to the others man's wrist. Shortly after our descent I bumped into two teenage lads I asked them the way to the railway and they duly pointed in the direction that the GPS man had run. It was too late for us, they had gone and we were now further down the wood. I took some verbal instructions from the boy about how to find the railway and we ran on trying to remember them. Eventually we came out by Grindleford Railway Station. I knew the route to Hathersage from here. I had run a reverse of it on another event some years earlier. We ran on to the drinks checkpoint near Hathersage before the final climb up to Abney and on to the finish. I was pretty knackered by now and feeling the effects of the sun. I drank lots of water and ate two jam sandwiches although I didn't really feel like it.

Head Banging.

Head scratch

I left the penultimate check point which was the final drinks stop with Peter Barr (my saviour from earlier), Micheal Plummer and a couple of other folks. I hadn't met Micheal Plummer before but I found out that the Long Tour of Bradwell is his latest event in his quest to complete the grand slam of UK ultra distance running. He is attempting to complete all the races in the UK ultra distance championships. He told me that it was Nick Ham's (another grand slammer) fault that he had taken on the challenge. After hearing Nick muse about the joys of a previous year's grand slam he went home, drank a bottle of red wine and then confessed to his partner that the quality of their time together might suffer because he had decided to devote the best part of a year to training for, recceing and taking part in ultra distance running events. I hope he achieves his goal.

We ran up towards Abney through the final arduous climb of the day. At some point before the last self dib checkpoint we entered a wood with a descent. I was shuffling along quiet happily in front of the others at a fair pace when suddenly, wallop, I was flat out. I had run into an overhanging tree branch. I rose to the concern of the others who had caught up. I had not seen the branch at all. I put my hand to my head to rub the pain away but it was bleeding heavily. The others seemed worringly concerned and I was told that it was a nasty gash that needed treatment. I panicked a bit not knowing how bad the wound was. It was bleeding like billyo but I was aware that head wounds often do. Peter stepped in and saved me again! He insisted that I had the wound dressed and he dispatched from his bag two plasters which he affixed and secured with tape by wrapping the tape around my head Terry Butcher style (for those that remember). I found out post race that Peter works in pharmacy. I could not have asked to be in better company. I am very grateful for Peter's help, he sacrificed time to help me thank you very much. I also appreciated Michael's reassurance that he wouldn't leave me until the finish - great, thanks a million.

I stumbled on through the wood still concerned not knowing the severity of the wound. I kept looking at my buff which I was using to apply pressure but the buff was black and wet from sweat so I couldn't see if the wound was still bleeding. The incline in the wood went on forever but eventually I came out at the road. There was a spectator at the top, Peter had run on and Michael was some way back. The spectator questioned if I was ok after seeing me clutching the buff to my head. I asked him how bad it looked. "It doesn't look good but you should finish" was the reply. I ran on, it would have been desperate if I had to retire  at this stage, with only two miles left to run. Just before the turn up the final track I was able to do a self assessment in a car wing mirror. The wound wasn't bleeding and at last I felt a bit more confident that my head wasn't going to split it two!



Dibbing in at the finish

I ran to the finish which involved a steep descent to Bradwell village. Whilst supping tea on the grass outside the pavilion my attention was drawn to two other runners with bloody heads. After discussion with one of them it seems the very same tree had also taken him out. I thanked Peter and Micheal for their help and left for a well deserved pint in the village pub. I had finished 35th in 7 hours 10 minutes 11 seconds. I am sure I can take a chunk off that time now that I have seen the course and more importantly, I know the location of the angry trees. Ian Symington formerly of Macclesfield Harriers was first home after a great run and ahead of his attempt at the Dragon's Back later in the year....good luck!

Tracy then took me to A&E but we had to travel to Chesterfield because Buxton was likely to be closed and perhaps not able to deal with stitches. The wound is actually superficial but I thought stitches might help it heal properly and avoid infection. Sadly I passed out whilst the nurse was cleaning the wound out, what a drama! It wasn't necessarily painful but it felt like the nurse was running a knife through the middle of the cut. I've never passed out before but i was able to tell the nurse the way I was going before I hit the deck. The embarrassment of the recovery room then followed. Thanks to Tracy for bringing some food in from the car. In twenty or so minutes I was back feeling normalish and we were discharged. I wished I had let it heal itself. The day ended at a chip shop in Chesterfield where I replenished with pie chips and peas before heading back to the camp site behind the Three Stags Head at Wardlow Mires. My bed was a welcome sight but not before a pint of black lurcher of course.   

FULL RESULTS

ROUTE

A FEW PICS

  

Jagermeister 10K 2012

I was offered a lift to the Jagermeister 10k which presented an opportunity too good to miss. In truth, I'd had my fill of 10k races having run around the distance too many times just six days earlier. My team captain from the previous week's Thunder Run was the driver and together we made up the only two Grantham runners to compete the tenth anniversary of the Jagermeister race. I have no idea how a German digestif came to sponsor a low key race in Nottingham but it worked very well indeed. Stuart seemed to have more enthusiasm as we drove across to Nottingham at about 5pm on the Friday evening. I viewed the race as something of a continuation of the previous weeks nightmare endurance event.

The Jagermesiter 10K takes place within the campus of Nottingham University, somewhere behind Queens Medical Centre on the fringe of the City. The campus was pleasantly green with quiet service roads passing through the undulating campus. Adjacent to the modern student buildings is the magnificent white Portland Building which houses the students union. As we ran round a 'warm up' lap of the race course I remarked how the grandeur of the building was somewhat different to the student union that I sometimes frequented some years earlier, in city centre Liverpool.

Stuart and I warmed up by running round a lap of the two and half lap course. It became apparent that the undulations would be the major challenge. Stuart's enthusiasm had continued, as he sprinted up the first hill he recommended that I "power into the hill" during the race. I privately contemplated that I might just try and "survive" the hill during the race. The route around the service roads would eventually head out around a lake which further added to the picturesque campus setting.

Jagerfinish

The race began at 7pm. I had been lucky to get an entry. I took a chance on entry on the night and was able to pick up the second to last place even though we arrived to register over an hour before the race started. The gun fired and perhaps 200 runners set off up the first undulation. I saw Stuart head of at a pace faster than I could manage. I thought that I would try and keep him in sight but when I hit the top of the first hill he was out of sight at the other side. I didn't see him again until we shook hands at the finish! I ran on feeling a little heavy but soon finding race pace as I ran past the costa coffee shop on the campus (they get everywhere don't they?) The first lap passed uneventfully but I was glad to get out on the second lap with about 6k to run. At the start of the second lap it was good to be encouraged by Mark and Helen also of Grantham AC, who were at road side having decided to come and spectate after a day shopping in the city centre. Part of the race route ran through the courtyard of the Portland building. We had anticipated merry students enjoying a Friday evening drink but I assume the summer vacation has started because other than a wind whipping round the courtyard there was nothing else there.

A deflated finish photo coutesy of Helen Brown, Grantham AC

By the second and a half lap I was into a better pace and feeling fairly strong I began to move through the field. My biggest difficulty running 10k which I guess is fairly common is maintaining the intensity of pace and the intensity of breathing that the distance demands, too far to sprint but not long enough to find a coasting pace. The last two k ran from the lake, up a path on to a service road and the incline continued to the finish. I was glad to get back after the challenge of the final incline. I ran under the inflatable finish gantry which had deflated and was being propped up by volunteers. I met Stuart as I walked through the funnel. Stuart had nailed the course in a fast time of 39 minutes and ?? seconds (awaiting results) a big achievement given the exertions of the previous week. I was about three minutes behind.

This was a good  value race. For a fee of £12 runners received a technical t-shirt with the text "keep running and party on" emblazoned across the front. In addition racers received a running bottle, cranberry juice, sweets and of course a shot of Jagermeister! Not perhaps the most usual post race drink but I can confirm my shot slipped down a treat...      

PLEASE NOTE THE FOLLOWING PROMISE - I AM NOW DONE WITH 10K'S (for a bit) AND LOOK FORWARD TO RUNNING LONG AGAIN STARTING WITH THE LONG TOUR OF BRADWELL NEXT WEEK, A NICE, LONG, EASY PACED ROUTE, NO BALLS OUT....

Thunder Run 2012 (TR24).

Why Would You?

Grantham AC

Imagine a stranger suggesting that you suspend your usual Saturday training and instead  do a 10k race at noon at "balls out" speed (I think the balls are eye balls and the speed means fast). After that at around 6pm you will be required to do another "balls out" 10k race across the same undulating, off road tracks. For good measure the stranger then suggests another 10k, later in the evening at perhaps 11pm, this time at as close to "balls out" speed as you can muster. You can then go to sleep, but at approximately 3am you will be woken from your slumber and asked to do.... you've guessed it, another balls out 10k. The following morning at about 9.30am a final lap of the technically tough course will seal the strangers proposal. Finally you must give the stranger £30 after he informs you that any sleep you do manage to get between races will be in a field.

Two thousand five hundred people thought that was a great proposal and duly parted with 30 hard earned pounds in order to enter the Thunder Run  event at Catton Park.      

The Thunder Run is a 24 hour event where runners enter either as teams of between two and eight runners or if you are daring and daft enough you can go solo. The idea is to run around a tough, technical, off road course which winds, undulates and switches back several times, before returning to the start/finish area where you pass a wrist band on to your next team member. In the case of a solo entrant you pass through the start/finish area and begin your next lap.... 



Grantham Running Club entered two teams of eight runners, a fast team and a faster team. I approached this race cautiously. I've run many long distance races but I've never entered a team event and never an event that would require bursts of race speed with a few hours rest in between over a long period of time. I thought that  10k's with 4 hours rest in between wouldn't present too much of a problem. In the event I found TR24 to be just as hard as other ultras which I have finished but perhaps for different reasons. An unusual event, as I found out, throws up unusual issues all of its own. 

The Night Before The Day After.

TR24

I arrived at Catton park on Friday evening after a merry dance around the adjacent dog agility festival. As I drove around the tents I did question why so many runners had decided to bring their dogs to the event. It was the dog agility apparatus in the main arena which finally gave it away. I was on the wrong campsite. A phone call later and I was repatriated with familiar folk from the club at the campsite across the road. Adidas sponsored the event and had located a huge outdoor screen in the field adjacent to the start which would take place the following morning at midday. We spent the evening sitting on camp chairs with thousands of like minded runners watching the Olympics opening ceremony in the outdoor cinema. The atmosphere was fantastic. Surrounded by sporting folk we watched the opening of the biggest sporting event likely to take place on these shores for a long time. In addition, there was a collective undercurrent of our own anticipation spinning round the field as we too were about to start our own sporting endeavour the very next morning. I retired to the tent a little after 1am after the Olympic torch had been lit. It was very cold when I went bed and I was grateful to be sandwiched between two duvets.  

Race Day 1



Team Talk

The next morning able team Captain Sinclair rallied his team. I was to run with "Grantham Grate" we had outside hopes of a podium finish but team members who had done the event previously were aware that the event had got bigger since its inception in 2009 and so too had the quality of entrants. The raw talent of Arthur Short was supposed to be our first and strongest runner but he too had decided to have an unscheduled peek at the dog show. At a late minute I was drafted in to run the first leg alongside Helen Brown who was the first runner for Grantham's second team. 

The atmosphere from the previous night had continued. I once heard it said "if you are losing faith in human nature, go and watch a marathon" That maxim would extend to the Thunder Run. People milled about before the start visiting the trade stands, having their bodies tattooed, buying energy drinks and other merchandise and generally taking in the good nature of the event. The camaraderie of these events is to be experienced, every runner privately respecting that they, and the person alongside them is about to take part in a feat of endurance that is going to hurt but which will be lots of fun in an odd kind of way. 

The Race

At noon the klaxon sounded and I shot off at a fast pace through the grassy field. I was keen to start fast and keep up a good pace. I wanted to get clear of the masses and arrive back to give Captain Sinclair and the rest of the team the best chance of a clear run. The course was hard with endless twists, turns, switch backs, woods, grassy fields, inclines and descents. The course roughly followed the perimeter of the campsite. It had been well thought out because occasionally the route bought you through the fringes of the fields of tents where crowd support was in abundance. My first lap was completed in 44:05. I was glad to pass the band on to Stuart and have the first leg out of the way. 

Returning to the camp Scott Jones had arrived to put in a day shift which turned out to be a coupe of decent and consistent sub 49 minute laps. Arthur and Phil had also arrived and instead of pitching the tent decided to visit the trade stands and take in the atmosphere. Arthur took over from Stuart who had whizzed round his first lap in 43:17. Arthur went out in inspirational form, coming home in what turned out to be Grantham's fastest lap of the event in 41:54. Meanwhile in the second team, Helen Brown, 50:29 passed on to Robert McArdle, 48:43 who passed to Phil Hall who came home in 52:56. Things were looking good, everyone clocking good times and then enjoying the friendly atmosphere. 

Between laps runners could walk around the course cheering other team members or perhaps sit around the campsite talking and refreshing themselves for their next legs. I went out again at about 6:20pm. I went faster than leg one recording 43:35 but I began to realise that five of these laps was going to be a real challenge. The challenge was intensified when darkness fell at about 9:30 pm. Gordon Geach was having difficulty in the dark deciding whether to go to the right or left of trees and ultimately learning via a sore head that you can't go straight through them! Head torches was the order of the night. 

Into the Night



Captain Sinclair

My first night leg began at about 11:20pm. I was grateful that the darkness meant I had no choice but to run a slower pace. I had spent lots of energy on the first two laps and I couldn't have kept up the same degree of effort. I enjoyed the night section. Running through the dark woods with only distant head torches of other competitors for company was exciting. Occasionally you would pass a slower runner in front. The spirit of the event was illustrated as slower runners stood aside to let you passed and each exchanged words of encouragement.   I was a bit tired and perhaps a bit delusional during the night. I remember various fighting birds flapping aggressively in the trees. I heard them on two separate laps and was quite sure it would be a talking point back at campsite. Strangely nobody else witnessed the bird scraps and after reciting the story it prompted someone to ask me in a concerned way, if I was alright! Ben Mason arrived on Saturday evening and provided good fresh legs for the team effort clocking a solid 48:56 on his first lap. Is wasn't until Ben's third lap that he got to see the course in daylight.

I hit the sack after returning from leg three at approximately 12:30am. Other team members had also begun to get some sleep. We agreed that when returning from night legs you would be responsible for waking the person that was to take over from the runner that you had handed on to. It meant that you were woken with about 50 mins to prepare. It was at this point that things began to get really hard. I tried to sleep at 12:30am but really only manged to rest my eyes. At about 2:30am Ben Mason called me from outside the tent, "Paul, your on next" was my call, "and there's a message from Mark Hillson, he says don't wake him till at least 6am". I was confused and tired but I staggered out of my sleeping bag donned my head torch and cobbled together some running shorts and a vest. It was cold now and there was a balance to be struck between wearing enough to keep warm before the start but not to much that it took ages to remove it. I stumbled out of the tent and wondered across to the white board which had our leg times written upon it. It was lonely at camp central, everyone else was either in bed or on the course. I checked to see who I had to wake when I got back. I was surprised that Mark Hillson was due to go out at 5:45am but was certain that my instruction had been not to wake him before 6am. I had already woken him prematurely before the previous leg so I decided to ponder the issue during my fourth lap which began at 4:20am. It wasn't natural to get out of a tent at 3am and be on race start line at 4:20am. It's not natural for me to get out of bed at 3am ever. My body didn't like it one bit, my stomach was in knots, not assisted by the generous handful of chocolate covered coffee beans I had eaten as I staggered down to the start. I think it was Ben Hatherley that handed over to me and out I ran chasing dawn.



I struggled with stomach cramps and a raw throat, symptoms which I notice other runners have described on other blogs. Despite the discomfort I was lucky to run the leg into dawn. It was dark when I set off and light when I arrived back 49:05 minutes later. A favourite part of the route was a long ridge at about 8k. To the left was a view across Derbyshire and the sky was particularly spectacular as the sun began to rise in the distance. I got strobbed vision during this leg, everything began to flash with a strobe affect, I suspect it was my eyes adjusting from dark to dawn. 



Thankfully on arrival back at camp Mark was awake. Other people had begun to emerge but I was having none of it. I went straight back to my sleeping bag with kit on and again questioned the madness of trying to sleep while my heart was beating ten to the dozen and my breath was matching the pace. Other team members continued heroically through the night. There were some minor scares in the morning when stray compatriots had to be shepherded to the relay pen but nothing which slowed our progress. It had become apparent during the night that we weren't going to make the podium. We were in 11th place and had all given everything we had to the cause. Despite that, the night running had been lots of fun, for me in a surreal kind of way. 

The Morning After



Change Pen

I managed perhaps another couple of hours kip before joining the others for breakfast. I decided to get up a bit earlier for my last leg and eat earlier to try and give the porridge time to settle. I found some peppermint tea (like you do?) in my tent. I was conscious that I needed to eat for energy but my lower stomach was still hurting in a pressured kind of way and I didn't feel like eating much at all. It was reassuring to learn that I wasn't the only team member struggling, Stuart had similar symptoms and had decided not do a final leg. He passed the honour on to the heroic Ben Hatherley who had run consistently fast throughout. Although he wasn't slowing down much it was a big ask to ask to do a fifth lap so soon after completing his fourth but step up to the plate he did and ran his final lap in good spirit in an amazing time of 47:53. 

Last Lap

My last lap was a bit of a crisis which required team effort to get me round. My stomach issue had subsided by the time I got to the start of lap five at about 9:30am on Sunday morning. I was feeling quite confident but not really looking forward to the last 6 miles. I set of at a leisurely pace with the aim of just getting round in a half decent time. I learnt that there is a lot of responsibility to team events, I didn't want to let the others down. At about 3k I became very tired my stomach was hurting again and even a slow death march wasn't easy. By 5k I was experiencing food obsession. I've had this before. I think the body gets so defueled it demands food. I was ravenous, absolutely crying out for food. I staggered down to the water station and drank three cups. I had heard Sarah High say that she had previously struggled at that point and three cups of water had helped. I drank three cups but water wasn't food. I felt nauseous and I was grateful to look up the track and see team members that had come out in support. "I needed food and I wasn't joking" I told them. Although they only had cameras Mark Hillson duly obliged and managed, despite a stomach full of ale (he had completed his final lap) a sprint back to the campsite. I carried on and half a K later I saw Mark arrive over the hill like the second coming and clutching a box of jaffa cakes. God was I grateful. I took a handful and marched off increasing my speed per jaffa cake eaten. They really did go down a treat, thanks Mark. My speed increased and I felt normal again, on I ran to finish the last lap relived in 55:06. Arthur Short ran a strong penultimate lap before Ben Hatherley went out for the final time. No crisis for Ben he whipped round in 47:53 talking to most spectators and runners as he passed. The effort was worth while. I was surprised that when looking at the results that we finished 7th out of 188 teams and our second team finished 34th, both creditable performances in my view given the size of the club. 

PICS TO FOLLOW