Wednesday's visit to the physio had gone like the others, the pain behind my left knee had neither grown nor subsided. I felt that I had just about squeezed in enough training and there did not seem to be any reason not to run on Saturday.
The mountain weather forecast was not good, showers some heavy, wind of 35 mph and temperatures falling to around freezing on the tops. I packed accordingly with plenty of spare gear and put a couple of bread bags in the pocket of my sack to wind proof my knitted gloves.
I chatted while waiting for the start. I introduced myself to David Bethell, I had seen David at a few events. We had not spoken previously, but I knew we had some mutual friends. The start was during a reasonably bright interval and we were off along the canal at about 08:10
The first rain came soon and even at low level there was enough chill to need waterproofs. The 1500' climb of Tor y Foel was a chance to get warm. CP1 at 7 miles seemed a long time coming though it didn't actually take me that long.
I ran straight through CP1 and was soon running gently down hill into woods on a forestry track. After a fair while I came on a group of runners studying their maps. Shortly we were joined by another group of runners coming in the other direction and then by another group coming the same way I had. Later I recalled making a mental note, when I had studied the route, that this bit was tricky. The route followed the track then split right on an almost invisible path, my note was that if you were going down hill you were going wrong. We tracked back and eventually found the contouring path, we never did find the marker. I had been little help getting us back on route, I couldn't see anything with my glasses on and couldn't see a map with them off.
I reached CP2 with a bunch of people. The marshals were great, I didn't even have to fill my bottle, I was invited to hold it out while they filled it for me!
It brightened for a moment as we left the checkpoint and I removed my water proof during the first ascent, it was back on within minutes. As soon as the ground became at all exposed the wind was biting. The rain also became heavier and I could not see through my specs, as the terrain was often demanding the specs went in my bag and I ran without them. As the ground became more exposed the cold became threatening. Deep bogs chilled my feet far more than the river crossings in the December event had. At this point I would have stopped to put on more clothing had there been any shelter at all, there was none so I carried on.
As the ridges became more exposed the rain increased and the wind picked up. I could no longer feel my fingers and running at all became an effort as my thighs were so cold. I made the best progress I could for the next couple of miles to CP3 on the mountain. I kept well away from edges, sometimes running at the side of the muddy path to avoid being blown off. I hoped that the descent to CP4 at 22.5 miles would offer some shelter from the wind. If my fingers could thaw out enough to operate a buckle I could shelter in trees, put on some more clothing, put bags over my hands and eat something, If they did not thaw I knew retirement would be a necessity.
How the marshals survived at CP3 I do not know, I would have put up a sign saying "please report to the tent" and stayed inside it. I left the checkpoint and turned South West for the descent. Fan Fawr on the other side of the valley did nothing to shelter the first mile of descent which was in the strongest headwind of the day. Running down hill felt like running against elastic pulling you back up. I knew then that I would have to retire, to carry on would have been foolish. There would have been about a third of a mile of sheltered running only before returning to the appalling conditions on the hill.
The marshal at CP4 was great. He offered me a seat in his car, which I willingly accepted. I could not remove my ruck sac myself no matter how hard I tried to deal with the fastenings, another runner kindly undid them for me in the end. I slid into the car where the marshal put a blanket over my legs and turned on the heater. I pulled my wet gloves off with my teeth and held my hands in the warm air. My core temperature was still good so most of me was warm well before my hands thawed out.
During the next hour and a half the car filled up with retiring runners most, like myself, too chilled to continue safely and one who was more deeply cold. Stretching muscles had not been high on anyone's list and the air turned blue as our contorted legs suffered cramp without the space to extend them.
When I got back to the start I waited for David Bethell and my room mate to return. David Bethell made it back in around nine hours, about an hour quicker than he had predicted, well done. As my room mate was not back a while after his predicted time I wrote a note and prepared to leave. I thought that I could get a good night's sleep at home and go for a run on Sunday and at least get a decent back to back out of the weekend. I packed the car and then had a last wander over to the finish, fortunate as I was just in time to see my room mate come in.
The rain was so heavy that I had to drive slowly even with wipers at full speed. I reflected that I would still be out on the course had I not retired and felt that my decision to stop was vindicated. Just like the comical post cards, the rain stopped as soon as I crossed the border back into England.
Later my left leg began to stiffen up and by Sunday morning walking had become difficult and painful, this year is not going to plan.
Well done to the Might Contain Nuts team. I was one of many victims of the ferocious wind chill/rain combination. Casualties were all managed smoothly and so far as I know there were no serious incidents.
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