Roaches Fell Race 11/11/12 18 miles 3700' ascent

For those familiar with the Roaches Fell Race, but not present this year, the title description may appear to be an error.  This year's race was extended by 3 miles in an attempt to minimise the spread of Phytophthora pseudosyringae.  Most of the change to the course was between Roach End and the river crossing.  The new route followed the path towards Hangingstone before turning right to take the path north and then east to the western end of Forest Wood and the river crossing.

As registration was on the  day only, I made sure that I was at Meerbrook Village Hall with an hour in hand.  It had been a cold start to the morning that had included scraping car windows, so I changed and loitered in the hall.   When I did make my way outside for the start I was surprised at how much the day had warmed.


I can't remember hearing anyone saying "GO", but suddenly everyone was moving.  I settled into an easy pace towards the back, I intended to take this race steady.  I had clocked up a few miles in the last fortnight, more than 70 just in weekend runs.  Beachy Head at the end of October, Roaches in the middle of November and Ultra Brecon 40 at the beginning of December has given me a bit of a training headache.  I aimed to get round in about four hours, steady, but not so slow as to keep the marshals out.

We turned off the road and started across fields, easy at first then steeper, up to Roach House and then the road beneath the Roaches.  This section was filthy, really, very, very, filthy.  I have never been a lover of muddy sections and here was a mile of deep mud trodden up by cattle who had left the odd "bonus".  I can't remember sinking in to my knees, but at the end of it all of us were plastered to knee height.  I hated it.

The stile at Roach House

We crossed the road and on up to the Roaches, all in all around 900' of ascent in a couple of miles.  The ascent continued at an easier rate until the Roaches trig point at about 1,640'.  I was feeling fine and started to gain a little momentum as we passed Roach End heading toward Hanging Stone.  Much of the path here is a deep narrow gutter and is hard to run, even harder when in a pack.  I gained a few places but passing was difficult.  Just as I was coming on well I placed my right foot badly, I didn't fall but did turn my ankle.  

The route turned off toward the river crossing, the terrain was better here and the ankle seemed to hold up.  I started to enjoy the descent through trees to the crossing.

The river crossing, I think this is on the way back
Michael Orange Photography

 We ran across fields, via Helmesley and Helmesley Rocks to join the path on Midgley/Tagsclough Hill.  I was astonished to see the first returning runner pass me by the gate just before the path.  I hadn't expected this for another mile.  Indeed it was a good mile before the next runner came past.

I followed the now familiar track to the main road, crossed and set off for Wildboarclough.  The second placed runner passed us by the end of the first field, he was a cheerful fellow and shouted "well done, keep going" towards us even before we had had a chance to congratulate him.  Parts of the descent down to Wildboarclough were soggy as usual, but  more bog than mud.

The water at the road crossing was very welcome.  I was very thirsty and my Coke tasted cloying, in retrospect it was a mistake to have carried only Coke and solid food with so little water on route.

At the top of the track on Shutlingsloe quite a few returning runners came past, including the first ladies.  As the track turned into footpath evasive action was sometimes needed until the outward and return paths separated.

Returning runners, after the track turns to footpath on Shutlingsloe.  The return path can be seen to the left.

The paths separated and so began a very steep ascent direct to the trig point, marshals checked our numbers as we appeared over the rocks.  I was on my way again, but was told by a marshal that we had to touch the trig point.  I ran back a step to do so and, as a result, later discovered that I had somehow managed to take a photo of the ground instead of the marshal and trig point.

The steep ascent route up Shutlingsloe.  This goes over rocks to the trig point,
starting from where the usual path and the by pass route separate.

It was a few moments only, along the top of Shutlingsloe, before the tricky descent began.  Descents are not my forte, however, I don't remember anyone passing me on the way down so recent training must be paying off.  I bent my knees and leant forward a little, favouring my left leg to spare my injured ankle.  I think it is lack of confidence more than technique that now limits my descent speed.  I was pleased with myself, but even more pleased when the steep part was over.  The rest of the descent flew by and when I stopped for water again at Widboarclough the marshal expressed surprise to see me again so soon. 

Shortly after crossing Clough Brook I placed my left foot badly and felt a sharp pain in my knee.  The pain eased after a few steps so I carried on, though I was also beginning to be aware of the fact that I was unexpectedly tired.  I started to eat one of my buns, but my mouth was so dry that I had run half a mile before I had finished it.

Time passed un-remarkably.  I was a fair way in front of the following runner and a fair way behind the one in front.  There were several miles where I could not see another competitor at all.  The river crossing came and went as did the following short ascent.  When I reached  the Back Forest path I caught and passed a couple of runners.

As the climb up to Roach End began my left knee began to protest, each step hurt a fair bit.  There is a road down from Roach End which is used by competitors who fail to make the cut off time to this marshalled point.  I asked the marshal what the difference in distance was, he replied that it was not much, just less ascent.  I decided to carry on and finish the race.

As I started the ascent to the Roaches trig point the rain began.  I resisted donning my waterproof, then as the rain turned to rain and hail and a sharp wind I gave in.  Shortly I encountered a pallid looking runner leaning against a rock.  I asked him if he was OK and he replied, "I think I am in a bad way".  His speech was not clear and he did not look well.  He had burned out and was badly in need of food.  I was also worried that hypothermia would soon set in given his weak state and the exposed location.  I offered him my jumper and leggings, he did not take them, he thought he just needed to eat.  I produced my last bun and a packet of dextrose tablets I keep "in case" and gave them to him.  I asked him if he had water, which he had, and told him to take a drink with the food otherwise the sugar would not be absorbed (the reason I had not bothered eating it myself).

I was still worried about the exposed location so suggested that we got moving.  I said I would walk with him until we could find somewhere more sheltered or a marshal to take care of him.  We set off together and just before where the path drops down by "Chicken Run" found a marshal.  I left him in the marshal's care and got moving again.  Although many runners had passed me since I had stopped, a look at my watch suggested that I could still finish in well under four hours.

It was not to be.  I don't know where the time went, I did not feel that I was moving slowly, but somehow it took me forty five minutes to cover the last two and a half miles most of which was downhill!  Maybe I had misread my watch or maybe it was just too much mince in the filth fields.

After I stopped my knee started to hurt a lot, indeed driving home was difficult and was punctuated by much wincing and sharp intakes of breath.

In the hall I met the chap I had given the bun to.  He had been able to carry on and finish once the food had kicked in!  He bought me a cup of tea and a slice of fruitcake as a thank you.  He had an eleven mile bike ride to the station before a train home to Bristol, I suggested he eat a lot of cake.

It appears that the early returning runner had not got lost, he won by an incredible 19 minutes!  I on the other hand took 04:09:32.  Though this is pretty much the time I was aiming for I still felt most dissatisfied with my performance.  Once out there I had upped the game then I had fizzled, this shouldn't have happened in just 18 miles.  I was well under hydrated and not absorbing nutrition, I had also failed to carb up well enough before the race.  This was bad planning.  What really annoys me is that I let the effect of these mistakes affect my head enough to wreck my performance further.

Ibuprofen worked wonders on the knee, it doesn't hurt too much now.  The ankle is OK so long as I don't provoke it, it just feels like I have something in my sock.  I think it will be fine as long as I stick to track and road for a while.  The memory of the fields of filth will take longer to heal.