Sue
Clapham 6th September 2015
The day began much like
any other of late - very little sleep (actually it had only been half
an hour, so particularly poor), restless, having palpitations with my
heart beat pounding in my ears and terrible pressure in my head.
Before you all get worried, let me assure you I'm not ill - ECG and
all blood tests have been entirely normal; it would seem that eating
spicy foods (which incidentally are my favourite) no longer agree
with me...this coupled with the stresses of a demanding job and
certain life events are not good. It's more than a little odd how I
can manage to run around hills for miles and hours on end without a
single flutter, yet at rest and doing or thinking about nothing in
particular I get thump, thump, thump. But I'm digressing, sorry, back
to the tale...
...so 4:30am couldn't
come quickly enough, having been awake for hours, it was a relief to
get up and get my kit together, have a couple of brews and prepare
(unhurriedly) for departure at 6am in plenty of time, given it was
early on a Sunday morning to arrive before registration closed at
7:45am. Programming the postcode into Sat Nav and keeping a copy of
the AA Route finder printout handy, I felt pretty awake though I
guess the chilliness of the crisp, still star-filled sky helped.
Despite the temperature I kept it cool inside the car to prevent me
falling asleep and sang along to the CD, wondering what the day/race
had in store. I made it to Denbigh in good time, thinking I only had
a few short miles left to Llynganhafal, where the Golden Lion pub,
race headquarters stood; famous last words as it was here that Sat
Nav decided in its infinite wisdom to lead me a merry dance, a very
merry dance indeed. No, I didn't see any signs to Llynganhafal, yes I
was on the right road (the B5435 with the correct post code) which
matched exactly what the AA said too. At the end of what had seemed
to be a never ending horribly narrow lane I hollered over to a farmer
to ask directions to the Golden Lion and was met with nothing short
of exasperation and rudeness..."The Golden Lion where exactly?",
"Llynganhafal! On the B5435, with the correct post-code, it
should be very close by, I don't think I drove past a pub...."
"Llynganafal is in Denbigh, this is Nantglyn, you're miles
out!!! (smirky smugness, I hate the English, especially women look).
You need to go back to Denbigh". "Ok, thank you,
goodbye"...so drove on, picking up the signs to Denbigh easily
enough (didn't want to drive back the way I'd come, didn't like that
lane one bit). Well by this time it was 7:30, not long until
registration closed so I rang the R.O., Joe to let him know I wasn't
too far away. Ten minutes later I was back in Denbigh though none the
wiser for that elusive golden lion. Nightmare, I hate to be late and
wasn't about to ask Sat Nav's help again.
And suddenly, like a
little ray of sunshine, I spotted a man at the bus stop. Great,
winding down my window I asked which way to Llangynhafal. "I
work there, I'm just waiting for my bus, actually it's late today"
ok so now I was faced with a bit of a dilemma, however, throwing
caution to the wind heard myself saying, "Hop in, I'll give you
a lift, that way you won't be late...you just have to direct me
though, PLEASE." Got to say he looked a bit reluctant actually,
nevertheless I tried the R.O. again but had to leave a message as it
went straight to voicemail. Great, 7:45, registration closed and no
idea whether I'd be allowed to run. Never mind, it was looking like a
nice day weather wise so I'd still get a run, no matter what (as long
as my passenger wasn't a mad serial killer or something).
Llynganhafal here I
come. Over the next few minutes I managed to establish that this chap
had originally come from Nottingham, following a girl to Wales and
had decided to settle there. The girl was long gone, he'd been here
20 years and worked under the shadow of Moel Famau. I told him I was
supposed to be running an ultra event, how I'd gone wrong and that I
was late....and added that I didn't make a habit of picking up
strangers at bus stops....just as well, he said he didn't make a
habit of accepting lifts from strange women!!! Thanks, perfect little
charmer, haha, joking aside I was grateful so when we arrived at a
cross roads, he asked me to stop, directing me over the way whilst he
just had a hundred yards or so walk to the left. His name? Paul.
Thanks Paul, have a good day, pleased you're not late.
Thanks....Sue...good luck in your race. Ha! I'd already decided I'd
just be plodding, not racing, not having had the best race
preparation AGAIN.
Bombing down the lanes,
the Golden Lion soon came into view. Screeching to an abrupt halt in
the gravel car park, I picked up my bags and stumbled into the pub,
apologising profusely for being late, quite surprised yet delighted
that in fact they had waited for me...double grovelling apologies,
holding up a race for...6 people!!! Ok, the fastest registration
every, removal of GDH Hoodie and long pants, unnecessary stuff
chucked back in the car and a mere moment later we were on the
starting line in the pub's garden. I looked around and made the
following observations about the competitors - Alex, nubile, young
goddess, dead cert outright winner, Dale, only male, guaranteed first
man position, group of 3 women who clearly knew each other and would
doubtless be running together, and me, 51 year old insomniac with no
aspiration of any placing today, just grateful to be in such a lovely
place with the chance to practice my nav. The race briefing over with
safety pointers and some photos of this momentous inaugural occasion
and we were off, 8:10, not too much later than planned...were things
looking up?
It doesn't make any
difference whether it's a short or long race, road, fell or
otherwise, I still get pulled into a horribly uncomfortable starting
pace and today was no exception. At the start, across various fields
and over stiles, along tracks and lanes we have formed two groups
within a very short space of time, I'm making small talk with Alex
and Dale, guess we're sizing each other up for the battle ahead. It's
not too long before sense kicks in though, come on Sue, it's 30
miles, you can't sustain this pace for long or you'll burn out.
Hooray, it's nice to
let go of that need to do well, I can start to enjoy the scenery and
relax into my favoured plodding pace. As the path begins to climb,
Alex predictably becomes a dot in the distance and Dale's ahead of
me, not too far but enough for me not to feel pressured to keep pace.
All is good as I continue climbing, slowly but surely, winding
upwards and joining part of Offa's Dyke path until I reach the ridge.
Around 3km or so, leaving Offa's Dyke to head westwards the path
descends steeply over a series of stiles before bearing sharply
north-eastwards for a lesser climb where I encounter Dale who
actually doesn't seem to disturbed to see I have caught him up and
asks whether I would like us to run together. The sun is shining,
bringing the colours to life, the air still has a pleasant coolness
and I'm in a good mood. I glance at the map, noting the topography
and quickly weigh up my expectations of the remainder of the
day...I'm looking at either several hours running solo or in company
and am happy to oblige this young man's request on the proviso that
if at any point he wants to speed off, he must do so as I'm thinking
at this stage that he must be the fitter and stronger runner out of
the two of us.
So we climb and chat,
soon reaching the first checkpoint at 6.5km and rejoin Offa's Dyke
(we do quite a bit of it over the course of the day, at various
intervals) for a short road section followed by a short, sharp climb
before plunging downhill to a wooded area and car park where a
friendly marshal claps and cheers us onwards the next longer but
steadier climb through the woods, chatting about what we each did for
a living and our thoughts on running in general and which events we
each have lined up. Passing a few pleasant kms along the Clwydian Way
I'm finding he's quite an interesting young chap and happily listen
to him babbling on about elite athletes and drug testing topics which
are currently trending various media sources.
At 13.5km (CP2) we hit
the junction with Offa once more which starts a series of enjoyably
steep but short climbs and descents, once more passing the cheery
marshal through the same car park as previously and continuing
downhill along more forested track to Pedair Groesfford Road junction
and Feed Station (CP3), 21km..2:20:26..not a bad overall pace, Dale
checks with the marshal, Alex is some 10 minutes ahead of us...are we
bothered? Not in the slightest! Well, I'm not bothered, just feels
good to be out and about getting some navigation practice in and the
scenery is most picturesque. I fill up with water, conscious that I'm
usually not very good at hydrating myself, especially as it's looking
like turning quite warm. I've been eating some cheese sandwiches
already enroute so just take a few jelly babies for a bit of a
boost...Dale takes a sausage roll, altogether uncertain as to whether
he will be able to stomach it (he's already told me he gets GI
problems and is only used to eating gels, even on marathon and ultra
distances), hence I'm a bit dubious as to whether this is such a good
idea...stop it Sue, he's a grown man, he can look after himself,
don't say anything even though everything is screaming at you that
it's not a good idea. Still, I've already learned from him that he is
a very independent chap and proud of the fact that he doesn't often
go to the doctor's for much and if he does, he's already researched
the issue and clearly knows better than the person in front of him
doling out the advice and diagnoses...what do they know with their
degree, having studied at least 6 years and having years of
experience in practice. He is a handy man by trade and regularly does
work at his local surgery. Nothing wrong with that, I admire the fact
that he is self-made and is using practical tradesman skills - a
dying breed with the later generations who are largely technology
driven. It's here that he observes the constant stream of patients,
wasting the doctors' time with conditions which are clearly caused by
their own failure to make sensible lifestyle choices. The NHS just
helps to "nanny" our nation (oh by the way, he is a South
African National). He has a particular dislike of people who are
overweight or people who have drug problems or mental health issues.
Dale once also made some bad choices where drugs were concerned and
had managed to turn his life around without anybody's help, thank you
very much. His knee problems caused Dale to take it easy on descents
but he managed as long as he didn't overdo it on the hilliest
sections...this too he had researched to the nth degree himself as
several doctors and specialists had been unable to diagnose, let
alone cure. Onwards with the route, a good defined track which
climbed gently over a few kilometres through heather-clad hills....I
can smell that sweetness, recalling now how I'd enthused about it on
the day, but I'm forgetting my companion again, sorry, it wasn't long
after CP3 that he was taking some sort of medication for his stomach
which predictably was not responding positively to sausage roll,
sigh. Ah but that didn't dampen his spirits, no no, heading up Moel
Dywyll he again proudly told me he could handle this, he'd faced and
overcome much more, his fear of heights for example - he had needed
some work doing on the roof of his house, the builder had quoted
£1000 for one day's work so he decided to do that himself. I was
actually quite impressed by this, having an unhealthy fear of heights
myself. He also had conquered his former fear of diving and had
completed hundreds in various interesting locations around the world
and had climbed and hiked in mountains including the Andes,
recounting how dreadful Machu Picchu was, definitely not somewhere to
be re-visited, full of tourists who are nannied to such an extent
that the guides are practically "wiping their bottoms",
such is the lack of need for the individual to be responsible for
themselves. We reach the summit then follow the good track downhill,
intersecting the Clwydian Way and skirting the edge of the Clwyd
Forest to arrive at CP4 (27km) in 3:28; I'm conscious that the pace
seems to have dropped but persevere with my companion and learn some
very personal things about his family. They haven't had the easiest
of times, having come from South Africa and all the family members
have health issues of one sort or another. I conclude that his
childhood was key in shaping him into the man he is today. As the
path meanders through the forest we enjoy the respite from the sun,
chatting away and we make a slight error on navigation, most
annoyingly adding some further distance. Never mind, it's supposed to
be fun after all and at least we've avoided having to battle with
Alex for first place. At CP5 (34km), Bwlch Penbarra we encounter the
most delightful marshal, Shona who can't do enough for us, such a
lovely lady, she's undergoing coaching with Joe and whilst she's
enjoying it, can't see herself ever running an ultra...never say
never Shona, it's just one foot in front of the other.
Now with only two
remaining major climbs ahead of us and some 14km I'm fairly chomping
at the bit to get to the finish. Immediately ahead is the steep plod
up Foel Fenlli, 170+metres for about 1km before plunging downhill
almost twice the distance of the climb, then a little contouring.....
...I'm waiting for Dale
to catch up as I'd sped on, just enjoying a carefree rock-free moment
or ten. He finally makes it, crossing the stile to be met by a herd
of rather large cows. Dale says I shouldn't have waited for
him....well I thought we had agreed to run together and quite frankly
I was a bit worried about how his physical state had deteriorated
over the course of the run. Still, I had to remind myself that I
should just butt out and prepared myself mentally for the final haul
beginning at 185metres level with a stream, I enjoyed the short,
sharp rise to the summit of Moel y Baer, continuing eastwards still
climbing with the monster Moel Famau now clearly in view, the Jubilee
Tower perched like a crown atop. At this point things went from bad
to worse for Dale. He had followed his usual regime of not eating
proper food, I could understand that in a way, given his stomach
problems, his knees too were feeling the distance and now he had
cramp...I could hear the anxiety in his voice as he asked me to
please go on without him whilst he sorted himself out. Weighing up
the past few hours of what he'd told me, I realised he sincerely
meant that, he was too proud a person to want any further empathy
from me, still I felt a pang of guilt, having been instrumental in
constantly trying to push the pace wherever possible. I continued the
journey alone, bashing through heather, onwards, upwards, leaving the
tourist path as indicated on the map, following a path which wound
its way along the north western edge of the Clwyd Forest, many of the
trees looked brittle and were sparsely planted.
Dibbing at CP6 (41.5km)
at the summit, I told the marshals that Dale was a short way behind,
dealing with cramp. A quick time check told me I'd been going for
just over 5 hours, slightly disappointing but time to get a wriggle
on to finish in under 6 hours. Sure enough as the track plunged
downhill, I felt my legs spinning ever more quickly, soon leaving the
majesty of the mountains as the populated land below came into view,
farms dotted here and there until suddenly I was re-tracing my steps
from the morning across stiles and fields....oh no, a field full of
formidable looking cows....just get past them...over the stile, phew,
one more field and there it was, the familiar red and white taped
finishing funnel and the promise of a welcome drink at the pub. Joe's
there to congratulate and hand out the goodies.
A few minutes later
Alex appears already changed and ready to go home. She finished in a
brilliant time (5:11:24), true to form I give her a well done hug and
am thankful actually that I had had company for the majority of the
day as to race against this fine lady would have made for a battle
which I doubt neither of us would have enjoyed. She's incredulous I'd
left Dale...I'm incredulous that she's surprised, given that she'd
left him hours previously but I assure her that he had practically
sent me away from him. Nothing can take away his first male position,
finishing a mere 5 minutes behind me.
It was a grand day
out. The Clwydian Range is truly beautiful and I would like to
recommend it for the Club Championship in 2016.
