Back to back to backs

Day to day
My left knee injury is holding up as I start to increase my mileage back up to 2012 levels.  I have now finished an easy going 'back to marathon fitness' phase of my training.  I followed this with a couple of easy weekends and it is now time to restart back to back runs.  If all goes well after the first back to back 'hard' weeks of back to backs I will start to enter some ultras.  I am hoping there will still be places for the Ultra Brecon 50.

There is no doubt that my knee injury is still there, but reducing my stride length seems to have kept things from flaring up. I do seem to be running quite a bit more slowly than I used to.  I am not yet sure whether this is due to the change in stride length, age related decline or the lack of any speed work for a good while.  As my confidence in the knee increases I have now rescheduled some speed work back into my training.  A 10k lunch break pace session and a couple of other fast short runs didn't seem to do any harm.

The fast runs were run without orthoses in what, these days, would be described as 'minimalist' or 'barefoot' footwear or what runners of my vintage would call 'shoes'.  This is not to say that my physio's warnings were wrong, my shortened stride and the shoe type more or less preclude heel landing and consequent foot rolling.  However, the reason I have shortened my stride is not to prevent over pronation, it is because hyper extension of my knee hurts in real time.  Especially, shock following an over extended landing, i.e. jarring a foot when the knee is more than straight, causes excruciating pain and is probably the cause of past 'flare ups'.


Lighter evenings
It is still pretty dark for most of my longer midweek run, though there is some light in the sky for the first three miles now.  It has been fun navigating new extensions by head torch.

Some light in the sky now, though this is still early in my evening run.  Wedgwood monument Old Hill, Bignall End.

I cover some of the same ground in daylight on rest weekends.  I am getting to the point where I have to carry reading glasses for navigation, so I was surprised that my eye was caught by fungi only about 10mm across the other Sunday.  Apparently these are Scarlet Elf Cups, Sarcoscypha austriaca.  When I got closer I found more and larger fruiting bodies though the colour was not so good as those shown.

Bright red fungus, larger associated growths were not quite so intense in colour.

I tend to enjoy my midweek long run all through the year now.  Buying a head torch good enough to use off road must be one of the best decisions I have ever made.  I was starting to have serious motivational problems as a result of having to use routes lit by street lights.  I bought a Silva Trail Runner, the extra downward shining LEDs are a nice touch and I find it works well for me.  The Li ion rechargeable model wasn't made when I bought mine.  I have the old four AA cell waist belt type which I use with 2500 mAh rechargeable batteries.

All around all the reservoirs - A Ladybower Loop

A circuit of Ladybower, Upper Derwent and Howden reservoirs, from Cutthroat Bridge.  Taking in Derwent Edge, Margery Hill, Slippery Stones, Alport Castles, Win Hill and Yorkshire Bridge.  Great views, varied terrain and a cracking last day out for my venerable C-lite 2s (may their soles rest in peace).  25.5 miles, 5635' of ascent.

The views on this route start straight away, taking the path from Cutthroat bridge past Ladybower Wood to Ashopton quickly reveals wooded slopes and the reservoir.  Turning north and contouring for a while set the tone for the rest of the day, fine fore, middle and distant views all at the same time.

Fine views before you've hardly started. 

I was soon leaving the wooded valley side and heading up past Hurkling Stones onto Derwent Moors.  The views just kept getting better and better as I headed towards the Wheel Stones, as the OS map calls them, also known as Coach and Horses.

The route had more stones than you can shake a stick at and I soon lost track, pretty sure these are Hurkling Stones. 

Most of the time there was a rock formation immediately ahead, the next and often another was usually in sight and further in the distance the great land masses of the peak could be seen.

Looking north along Derwent Edge - Wheel Stones or Coach and Horses on the right.

The edge continues to drop away sharply until a little after Dovestones Tor, now the edge on the west becomes less steep and the drop to the east steeper so that the path follows a broad ridge.  Even here there is little to obstruct distant views as the ground is not that bumpy.

Back Tor.  The 'edge' path now follows a broad ridge, Lost Lad is just visible on the near horizon. 

Stones continue to mark progress until Lost Lad is reached and the paths start to drop away sharply.  I headed north, north east on a track towards Berristers Tor.  The plan was to cross Abbey Brook and take a more or less direct line following Howden Edge to Featherbed Moss and then to join the path to Margery Hill shortly after.  This was a line I had read about and which made sense.

When I reached the crossing with the right of way at Abbey Brook I could see my intended line ahead.  However, I could not see a safe way to cross Abbey Brook which ran in a steep sided groove.  Instead, I followed the RoW east until an easy crossing presented itself about a kilometre later.  I must come back to follow some more of this path, I thought it outstandingly pretty and do not regret the detour at all.  The bash across open moors back to Featherbed Moss was hard going and I frequently had to stop running to avoid tripping.  I was lucky enough to see three mountain hares in their winter coats here, by 'eck they are big.  They weren't stopping to have their photos taken unfortunately.

Green and pleasant, Berristers Tor left and the right of way path east.

Once back on Howden Edge my route became obvious once more.  Various stones and outcrops punctuated the way, though none were as outstanding as those on Derwent Edge.  A strong wind blew in from the west and a chill began to creep over me.  I made the slight detour from the edge to the indistinct top of Margery Hill, the sky was now darker and the atmosphere felt suddenly bleak as I struggled into my wind proof at the summit before snapping the trig point and surrounding rocks.

Margery Hill, felt as desolate as it looks here.

I was glad to begin a descent that I thought would bring me shelter, though I was some way down before there was any noticeable decrease in the wind.  As I neared Slippery Stones the sun reappeared and I started to warm up again.

Almost down to Slippery Stones and the Derwent valley.  Fast and deep fords.

The fords at the northern end of Howden Reservoir mark the junction of the moorland and the more municipal round the reservoir paths and there were as many people here as I had seen all day.  I had seen no one along Howden Edge and, once I set off north for the path following the Derwent, was to see no one again for a good while.

The path was mostly in sunshine while the valley side to my left was in shadow.  This fortuitous chiaroscuro kept me warm enough and the views charming and gentle, a pleasant contrast to the open views on the tops.

The minor path on Ronksley Moor, following Lower Small Clough, was just visible from the Derwent path.  Getting to the path involved another difficult crossing.  I opted for knee deep immersion rather than risk a slip and complete soaking trying to use slimy submerged stepping stones.

Following the Derwent from Slippery Stones to Lower Small Clough.

The end of  Lower Small Clough marked the halfway point of my route, a circumstance that I celebrated with coke, bun and flapjack.  It had taken longer than expected to get here and I decided that it would be best to follow the more common path back to Crook Hill from Alport Castles (missing out Win Hill) to avoid getting caught in the dark later (though I did have my head torch).

Shooting cabin.

The way ahead became obvious once more as I headed into a huge cutting.  I made sure that I did not stray into an old drain running at right angles to my path.  It was sort of fun running in a channel whose sides were higher than my head, again the lighting added to the atmosphere.

Giant drainage ditch between the end of Lower Small Clough and the track down to Ridge Upper Moor.

My map did not extend far enough to identify the view in the photo above (looking back along the cutting).  Subsequent research suggests that the group of rocks on the far horizon is Horse Stone.

The descent, on a well made track, to Ridge Upper Moor was steep and fast.  For the most part terrain was predictable enough for this descent to be enjoyed without complaint from battered toes.

Ridge Upper Moor looking green and welcoming.

In the woods I looked for and found the ford across the River Westend.  Like many 'fords' today this one could not really be distinguished from 'river' in general except that a path stopped and started on either side of it.  The Westend was wide and moving fast, not so fast that I feared being carried away, but fast enough to make staying upright a challenge.  I had not run more than a hundred meters along the other side when I saw a perfectly solid bridge.  That isn't shown on the map!

I continued along the track and somehow managed to miss a path on my right.  Fortunately this became obvious as the track met a road within a few hundred meters and I retraced my steps.  The path was actually signposted to Alport Castles, I'll blame low blood sugar.

It's a fair old slog up to the Castles with the best views behind you, here I met the first people since Slippery Stones.  If I had known what I was in for, the journey up would have been easier as the 'castles' are truly fantastic.  Once again the hard winter sun lit the scene magnificently.  One is left with the impression that a chunk of Petra was transported to the Peak District where it acquired a thin covering of rough grass over the centuries.

The incredible Alport Castles, the Tower.

Alport Castles edge, Little Moor and Rowlee Pasture.

The path across Rowlee Pasture gave great views to the south west and seeing Win Hill made the idea of including it look tempting again.  I had started to make a little time and calculated that I could make it.  I would be able to descend in half light and it would not get truly dark until after Yorkshire Bridge.  I had a contingency plan for this last mile or so which was to retrace my outward route, rather than face the uncertain paths through the woods on the other side of the A57 in the dark.

I took the right of way skirting woods down to Hagg Farm and beyond, crossed the road and ran into woods, crossed the Ashop via the luxury of a good bridge then started the steep climb up through trees to Hope Cross.

Last big climb, Win Hill, a bit more than half the ascent to go.

So began the climb along the 'beasts back' of Hope Brink.  The summit seemed a long way off, but I covered the four kilometres fairly steadily.  I could not resist looking back to see Lose Hill and Great Ridge in the sun's late glow.  At this point I realised I would be in shadow while I made my descent.  There have been several occasions on recent runs when I have realised the importance, or even just relevance for photographic purposes, of taking the angle and direction of light into account when planning a route.

Great Ridge and Kinder Skyline in the distance, from Win Hill.

Win Hill summit, time to get a move on, not much light left.

The light did not prove to be a problem as I began my descent. This was fortunate as the bridleway down was difficult underfoot.  As I stopped to photograph an attractive lichenous sign post that said 'chipotle and chilli bean wraps' (spelt Yorkshire Bridge), I was passed by another runner taking the same path.  I gave chase just for the fun of it and was soon whizzing down a slightly slippery woodland path.  This path was a sheer joy after the earlier stony steps and in my enthusiasm I forgot to keep a check on my direction.  Frequent deviations to avoid fallen trees and many linked paths soon had me disorientated.  I sort of realised, but was having too much fun to care.  As long as I was heading down I couldn't go too far wrong.  The path then began to level which meant I was headed the wrong way.  I decided that I would retrace my steps if a way to my right did not present itself soon.  It was not long before I did see a way down to the edge of Ladybower, I was quite a long way north of the dam when I got down.

I followed the path along the water's edge to the dam, artificial lights were starting to twinkle in the last of the natural light.  There was just enough light to allow photographs of the overworked over flows (with elbows braced on the parapet).  Stunning.

A hole in the Peak District space time continuum

I did not put my torch on as I started up the path back to Cutthroat Bridge, I wanted to be sure that I knew where I was relative to the road so as not to miss the car park.  A printing error meant that I did not have a map of the final few hundred metres, I did not want to rejoin the road knowing not whether to go up or down.  In the dark progress was slow and I started to think that I had missed the turning.  I saw a fence leading down towards the road and decided to follow it.  Part way down I saw a bridge ahead and to my left and realised that I had anticipated the path by about ten metres!

I put on my head torch before crossing and following the road back to the car, my those wraps tasted good.

I mapped the route using few nodes which would cause an underestimation of the distance, with that and semi intentional and unintentional deviations I think I ran closer to 27.5 than 25.5 miles.  All in all a cracking run not far short of category A, but feels a lot less.  The research I am putting into routes these days is really paying off.  I am particularly grateful to mountainboxer for his description of the original route (to which I added Win Hill and changed the start to suit my training needs).

My venerable C-lites were in such poor condition when I started this run that I actually took a spare pair of shoes with me for safety, the old ones just made it all the way.  I think they had a fitting last run, perhaps I should have thrown them into the sink holes for a grand exit.  It turned out to be the final run for a trusty pair of gloves too, when I drove off forgetting that I had wedged them between roofbars and roof while I got the wraps out.

Map of my intended route.  I ran a slightly different (longer) descent to the dam and retraced my outward route from there back to Cutthroat Bridge.

Edale Skyline

Getting away from it all.

I'm just making it home from work in time to see the sunset over my local route.  I even drive a way that gives me two different views of it.  On a bright day there is a surprising amount of light left in the sky, all the same, by the time I am changed and out it is dark once past the street lamps.

It was raining and windy when I set out for last weeks evening run, halfway round the rain turned to snow.  The ground was boggy and sodden where it wasn't muddy and slippery as hell, or actually flooded.  The rain and snow on my specs made the tree roots even trickier than usual.  The puddles on the Apedale Road were deep enough to submerge my shoes for a wash off when I left the woods behind and turned for home.  I haven't enjoyed a run so much in ages, I don't know why this one was special, but it's always good to know I have escaped the city.

 Leaving the city behind me for a while.

Edale Skyline and a window in the weather.

My knee hasn't been causing too many problems so I thought it was time to pick my mileage up a bit.  Views from the Hope valley run a fortnight ago made me think about running the Edale Skyline, I chose to do the race route, a category A of about 21 miles (plus the run from and to the car park), as the distance and ascent suited my purpose.  As a break in the weather was forecast for Sunday, that seemed like a good time to do it.

I met a bunch of people in Edale car park who were kitted like runners.  They were doing the half route (end at Mam Tor) in the same direction as I.

The sun showed its face as I started up the zig zags.   There was a haze in the sky but it was still possible to see most of the route from Ringing Roger, I allowed myself some optimism  concerning navigation.

Looking south east towards Win Hill before the real descent started.

Much of the skyline visible in this shot west from lower on Crookestone Hill, starting from Lose Hill on the left.

The run east towards The Roman Road on Win Hill was delightful except for some sludge at the bottom of Crookestone Hill.  I looked back up to the moor and thought I could see the group I met in the car park, some way off.

The ascent of Win Hill via the Roman Road was easier than the direct slog up had been a fortnight ago, but still had its moments.  There were some cracking views of the reservoirs to the left.  I could not see the group behind me, I thought I might meet them as I retraced my steps on the first part of the descent from the summit and did indeed meet them, just before I took the stile to head away.  I really enjoyed the path towards Twitchill  Farm, just steep enough to be fast without being painful.

 

A charming start to the slog up Lose Hill

I was hoping that the different path up Lose Hill might be less of a trial than the one I used last time.  It wasn't, Lose Hill is just a slog.

 

Looking back along Great Ridge.

  The Great Ridge was as busy as ever.  By now the wind had risen and was more or less directly in my face making the ridge surprisingly hard work.  There was a brief respite on the descent to the road, though the wind soon picked up again as I passed the half way point and started up Lord's Seat.

Lord's Seat.

Apart from the wind the ascent to Lord's Seat summit was pleasant enough.  Though the path was very muddy in places,  considering the recent rain, it was not as bad as it could have been.

Lord's Seat Summit.

I did not have a custom map for the Mam Tor to Brown Knoll section so I had stuffed the OS Explorer OL 1 in my sack.  I was hoping I might manage without having to wrestle the large map in the wind.  As I headed along Rushup Edge from Lord's Seat I could swear that I saw the Brown Knoll trig point and this emboldened me.  I followed the race route and soon found myself without a visible path.  Though I could no longer see the top of the knoll, I reasoned that the bump I could see was Horsehill Tor and that I needed to aim to the left of it.  This strategy worked well enough though I kept drifting slightly rightwards, in consequence I was fortunate to encounter the beautiful beehive cairn about 120 meters to the right of the race route.

I made a determined effort to move further west at this point, while this did bring me onto a more direct route the ground was boggier than nearer the edge.  After reaching the summit the ground soon deteriorated from boggy to very boggy to scarily boggy.  I went in up to my knee at one point and swear I was still sinking until I fell forward onto a solid tuft of grass. 

 Trig point on Brown Knoll, must be on a raft.

I headed down following the broad ridge and then drystone walls until I reached the path crossing near Edale Cross/top of Jacob's Ladder.  Here I saw the first other person since leaving Rushup Edge.  The change in terrain from broad brown and featureless to rocky and angular and, finally some shelter from the wind, seemed to echo the change from the solitude of Brown Knoll.

Though I am not, and never have been a 'ticker', it seemed a shame not to make the detour to Kinder Low, so I kept north leaving the sky line path.  I met a dog and a couple of ladies at the trig point.  I had to wait patiently as they posed on the landmark before I could take my snap.  this was no hardship as shelter from the wind meant that I had warmed up considerably.

 Kinder Low, surrealy like a beach.

 I could see a direct way back to the skyline path so set off across the peat, curiously dry and pleasant to run on.  I was surprised to see that snow and some frozen rivulets of water hung on in sheltered spots, despite the recent heavy rains.

 Snow at Edale Head.

As I made my way along the edge the sun sank below a temporary horizon only to reappear again several times.  The boulder fields were magnificent in the low light,  I must admit to wandering off my intended path, drawn by their irresistible charm.

Boulders in the low light.

As I neared the end of my skyline route the sun started to go down for real.  I took a last look at the skyline and a last photograph before reaching Ringing Rodger, for the second time, and starting my own descent.

 Last of the light.

This is a surprisingly hard route, not to be underestimated.  There is plenty of ascent, but it is the terrain, from plain energy sapping to quite technical that makes the route so demanding.  I chose my route and direction to suit my training needs.  If I just wanted a grand day out I think I would do the route clockwise from Mam Tor car park (thus missing out the unnecessary distance and ascent/descent from/to Edale).  Take a friend, Brown Knoll is a lonely place even for one used to solitude.

Hope Valley and the Great Ridge

I finally made it out for a proper fell run, the first proper run for six months.  My return to running after a three month lay off was inauspicious, the pain behind my left knee returned almost immediately.  However, as the rest of my knee had had a good rest, I found that I could feel the pain from the worrying injury in a more critical way.  After a little experimenting, I found that it was the last few degrees of movement of my leg as I propelled myself forward that caused the pain.  I found that running with a shortened stride, i.e. 'recovering' my trailing leg before it has fully straightened, seems to stop the pain getting too bad.  Of course, this has had a rather detrimental effect on speed.

How did three months turn into six?  Well, I was tapering just before the lay off anyway,  I also sprained my ankle soon after starting back, then went over on it again a few weeks later.  Although running again fairly soon, I did not feel confident enough to test the ankle in a remote location in winter.

I planned my run to be scenic and challenging, but to be in a popular area and not too far from roads just in case.  I had some inkling that there were uncharted paths along the top of Winnats Pass western edge.  I recently found a description so decided to piece this into a route taking in Mam Tor Great Ridge.  I added a few zigs and zags to get the distance up to around 15 miles, and threw in Winhill to get the ascent up to around category A.

Winnats Pass

I started out from Mam Tor car park, it wasn't too difficult to find the route to the uncharted path along the top of the pass's craggy southern skyline.  When I arrived visibility was so poor that I could barely see the road below.  Fortunately the mist lifted in less than a couple of minutes.

Peveril Castle - looking just a stones throw away, but actually the other side of Cave Dale.

Picking up the right of way at the other end was a little harder, but no great challenge.   I soon left that RoW to follow a permissive path to the edge of Cave Dale and get a great view of Peveril Castle before descending into Castleton.

The Hope cement works from Dirtlow Rake, not pretty, but interesting in its own way.

I had decided to run up Cave Dale then back down Dirtlow Rake.  This part of my route was illogical in terms of progress, but added some interesting views, distance and ascent.  I then picked up the minor road to Hope, crossed the main road then crossed the river and railway to start the ascent of Winhill via Twitchill Farm.  This is a steep ascent not to be underestimated in terms of effort, though never technical.

Stricken tree - on the ascent of Winhill.

Striking tree - on the ascent of Winhill.

Summit of Winhill - Ladybower Reservoir far below.

I ran west then north west along Hope Brink, finally turning  a sharp south east to follow the path back down the Brink to Twitchill Farm then down into Hope to start up Lose Hill and the beginning of the ridge.

Lose Hill from Hope

The ascent of Lose Hill was very hard work.  Mud had been a problem all day, on Lose Hill it doubled the effort required, sliding back to the start point of any particular stride was not unusual.  A few fingertip touch downs were required to stay upright.

The summit of Lose Hill and a nice couple I met while there.  The ridge can be seen snaking into the distance at the left of the picture

I met a nice couple on the top of Lose Hill who offered to take a photograph of me, I explained that I didn't want to risk damage to my camera.  I took a photograph of them with their phone before setting off along the ridge.

Vale of Edale from the ridge.  The path very close to the edge on this section, descending to Hollins Cross.

Mam Tor from the ridge.  The light was against me by now, I grabbed a chance to take this shot when the sun went behind a heavy cloud.

Running up to the summit plateau I approached another runner coming down.  Suddenly a dog came out of the sun passing the runner then me and going like a bat out of hell.  It was a medium sized dog and unlike most fell running dogs it was quite a burly breed.  Whatever it was it seemed superbly adapted to descents, I'll swear it sported a smug grin or maybe that was just the effect of acceleration.  It was a real treat to see a creature having so much fun, the memory of it is enough to make me smile.

Mam Tor summit - enduringly popular at only 100 meters above and little more than 500 meters away from the car park.

All together my route was just shy of sixteen miles and six feet short of category A (I ran from the car park down to the road and back again to make it up, honest).  In a sensible form (best line from Castleton to Winhill and Winhill to Lose Hill) the route would be around twelve miles.

Under lilac skies.

Well the condition affecting my left leg appears to be chronic, whatever it is.  I am hoping that careful planning will allow me to do enough training miles to do some ultras/marathons this year.  The long rest has done some good, I can feel the injury in a more critical way.  This might allow the possibility of redesigning my training and of modifying my gait to minimise  aggravation of the injury.  Even moderately quick road work causes a flair up.  This will mean abandoning my lunch break sessions, a shame as they were very convenient.

Popular events get more popular all the time, entry lists get full earlier and earlier.  It is going to be difficult to plan ahead with my present lack of confidence in my fitness.  I will go for Beachy Head Marathon, I just love that event.  The time limit is generous, if worst comes to worst I will rest rather than train for it and then walk round with the occasional trot.  I would also love to do the Isle of Man Mountain Ultra again, though I don't exactly have much time on my hands in that one.

I went down to Barlaston Downs for a gentle walk with friend Geoff Berrow, Geoff is a bit knackered from chemotherapy at the moment so just a gentle stroll. This allowed me a pleasant recce of the area with plenty of opportunity for photographs.  It was a bright day and evening crept lilac into the sky, my photographs do not do the light justice, I hope Geoff will share his later.


Long shadows as evening creeps over Barlaston Downs.

I enjoyed the Downs greatly, careful route planning would allow good runs of around 4 - 5 miles, laps would be needed for more.  I doubt if I will make the journey often, a twenty mile round trip in order to run five miles would make me feel rather guilty and indulgent.

Lilac skies as the sun goes down, Barlaston Downs.

Nearer home everything is getting rather muddy, a momentary lapse of attention caused me to slip and hurt my right ankle again.  I am back in action, though I think I have put recovery from the previous ankle sprain back a good bit.

The woods look fantastic with their bare branches everywhere.  I cannot capture the impression the scenery makes on me.  The complexity of it all just seems overwhelming in photographs, the eye and brain seem to 'zone' things when actually there.

Perch Pool, Watermills Wood, full to overflowing at the moment.

Watermills Wood, another lilac sky

I was looking forward to my first proper fell run in six months last weekend.  What with the knee still playing up and re injuring my ankle, I decided to give it another week.  Trotting round my local ten mile route went well enough, I think I'm up for a leisurely fifteen in the Peak next Sunday.  I will just have to see what the weather brings.