There was a different feel to the race this year. The organisation was as competent as ever and the course was (almost) identical to previous years, the difference was the participants. I was surprised, as the village hall filled up with registering runners, to see very few faces I recognised. Notwithstanding the lack of familiar faces, it was soon clear that there was going to be no lack of runners. All done there were nearly one hundred and fifty at the start, which I'm pretty sure is a record turnout.
I thought that there was a new start, as there was a large ridge of uncompacted asphalt and a taped barrier between the village hall car park and the small field where the start usually takes place. It was explained that there had been some fly tipping incidents and measures were being taken to prevent a repeat. A three foot ridge of stuff isn't really going to put a fell runner off stride and so this minor obstacle just became part of the course.
The pre race instruction was delivered with sufficient humour that everyone shut up to listen and I could hear clearly even right at the back. Especially important was the direction to be courteous to other users of the footpath. In my experience the locals seem entirely friendly and supportive of this event, manners will go a long way to keep it so.
Because I was taking it easy I could position myself between the middle and back packs and this gave me a few more photo opportunities. I even managed one snap looking behind me (I made two attempts, one failed).
The climb into the village on the outward leg - the runners chasing me.
I puffed my way up the climb to the village. I usually consider climbing my forte, however, the lack of any running from April last year and a mere twenty miles or so total for this year has left me seriously out of condition. Things were moving slowly all through the quarry this time so I didn't get to find out if my feet could still work precisely until later. I had elected to wear trail shoes instead of fell shoes for the first time in this event. The idea was to give my knees a bit of cushioning on descents. I was yet to see whether this choice was wise. I have always leant towards the view that the stability of a fell shoe minimising the risk of twisting something was more important, in the past.
Coming out of the quarry - always a bit of a bottleneck here.
Emerging from the quarry onto the track behind the folly brings one pretty much to the highest point on the route. Easy running past the 'Old Man' revealed cracking views across the Cheshire plain, easy to accept it had once been a sea when seen in the day's blue haze.
The sea of Cheshire from Mow Cop - Is that a bulging spinnaker gleaming white on the horizon?
A poor shot of the 'Old Man'. Exposure compensation on the hoof? You must be joking.
The following section in the woods demands care, not too steeply downhill, but fast nonetheless and with plenty of mud, tree roots and overhanging branches. I didn't have any real trouble here in my Crosslites. We were soon on and back off Mow Lane with its lovely views in all directions. This is where it starts to get deeply boggy, knee deep if you are really unlucky. That kind of squidge makes tripping very likely, I managed to stay upright this year. The runner in front of me lost her shoe and had to stop to look for it. She then became the runner behind me, he-he.
After the boggy mud trip field, comes the clayey mud slip field. This second field was a shadow of its former nuisance. There seems to be a new drainage ditch and despite the wet winter only a few dips were up to past standards of awfulness.
The gorgeous narrow descent following the stream is also slippery and I thought I might miss the sharper studs of my Walsh's here. Though I did have to exercise care in places where the path was on its way down the stream's bank, I got stuck behind someone who's shoe had shredded itself and had to move slowly anyway.
I took to the verge by the road, to humour my knee, I immediately tripped on the grass and went flying! I ran alongside runner 107, Laura Stubbs, for a while here. She was running with her father who, she explained, also had to humour his knee on descents. The ascent up to the woods was punctuated by the sound of Tom Jones booming from a portable radio in the farmyard we passed. The woods seemed really hard work and were pretty muddy as expected. I made a bit of an effort as we emerged from the woods, overtaking Laura and her father in the seriously churned up field. As I neared the top I pointed my camera to the Peak District side of the day's view.
Looking towards the Peak District - Shutlingsloe centre, Croker Hill tower can be clearly seen further left.
My knee nagged on the tarmac descent and I began to think I might pay rather seriously for the day's fun. I let runners come past and carried on to the field crossing, more runners came past, the knee didn't feel quite so bad now. As we rejoined the path used on the way up, I thought - "sod it, I've probably overdone it anyway, might as well be hung as a wolf"- and picked up some speed. I'm not talking heroic disregard for the trip/sprained joint hazards, but I did stop favouring my knee. I caught up and overtook most of the runners who had come past on the road and across the field.
I crossed the line in 1:15:41. That's nearly two and a half minutes a mile slower than my best time, ask me if I care much! I photographed a few of the runners behind me before going down to the drink station then tea and cake in the hall.
Left - Rob Bailey. Right - Olive Bigmore.
Left - Might be a bit previous looking at your watch, I'm not sure you're over the line yet! Right - Laura Stubbs coming in just ahead of her father Harry Stubbs.My knee nagged on the tarmac descent and I began to think I might pay rather seriously for the day's fun. I let runners come past and carried on to the field crossing, more runners came past, the knee didn't feel quite so bad now. As we rejoined the path used on the way up, I thought - "sod it, I've probably overdone it anyway, might as well be hung as a wolf"- and picked up some speed. I'm not talking heroic disregard for the trip/sprained joint hazards, but I did stop favouring my knee. I caught up and overtook most of the runners who had come past on the road and across the field.
I crossed the line in 1:15:41. That's nearly two and a half minutes a mile slower than my best time, ask me if I care much! I photographed a few of the runners behind me before going down to the drink station then tea and cake in the hall.
I really enjoyed Mow Cop Hill Race, thanks again to those who worked hard to bring it all off. I do love club organised 'village hall', 'tea and cake', friendly events. This event has the best of tradition and the best of progress - A traditional event, delicious home made cake (and free range eggs) in the hall, and results on line by tea time. You can't fault that.
Best of all, I do not seem to be suffering from making the effort to run. I think my knee might be entering a 'just hurts' phase. It hurts, but there seems to be little correlation between stress and pain, delayed or otherwise (where the stress is within reasonable limits).
