30 November - 2 - Story

Striding to the next level…My first ever Fell Race

Fell running, also known as mountain running and hill running, is the sport of running and racing off road, over upland country where the gradient climbed is a significant component of the difficulty – Google 2014

No.Shit.

“So, you’ve done an AM before then?”
Yes. Edinburgh half was quite an early AM, and I prefer taking longer runs earlier in the morning too. The ones in the lakes were just TOO late.

“Katie, do you know what an AM is?”
Yes, of course. Running in the morning. As opposed to a PM which is running in the afternoon.

“Erm. Not quite no.”
OH.

Captain Greaves at your service to talk about my latest venture and first ever (accidental) FELL race!

So, this year (2014) I got off the couch A LOT. Not only did I ger my Advanced Dip in Personal Training & Coaching, but I entered a few races too – 12 charity runs between August-Christmas. I also took this running beef OFF ROAD…I ran 5 trail races in the Lake District (UK) and then kind of by accident entered an official fell race on Sunday 23rd November 2014.

I was living down in Sultry Shropshire, (a picturesque county in the middle of the UK) between October and November this year and using the local hills there to train for a couple of events I had in the Lake District. One of the guys at the National Sports Centre saw me out running one day and we got chatting. I was telling him about my galloping adventures in the lake district. He mentioned there was indeed a race up ‘The Wrekin’ too in Shropshire. Why, that’s where I’ve been practising I exclaimed! PERFECT. I thought.

“AM means: Category A and M means medium Greaves.”
OH.
“And it’s FRA regulated. So you’ll need all the kit.”
OH.
“So, you’ll need a whistle. and a compass.”
OH. Can you show me how to use a compass though?

Wrekin Wrecker. The Stats:
Date & time: Sun 23rd Nov 2014 at 11:00
Country: England
Region: Shropshire/Welsh Borders
Category: AM
Distance: 12.9km / 8m
Climb: 732m / 2402ft
Venue: Buckatree Hall Hotel, Wellington, TF6 5AL.
Grid ref: 640098 on Exp242.
Skills & experience: ER, PM
Minimum age: 18

Race day. Nervous. Butterflies. Stomach knots. Hearty smiles. Faces weathered with tales of years of hillock affairs. Knobbly knees. Thick streamed quadriceps. Bulky calves. Sinewy arms. Buffs, backpacks. Stuffed up fanny packs. Zips. Quips. Jibber jabber. Windbreakers. Odd sounding team vests. Odder colours. A cacophony of country accents and voices exchanging notes, comparing mud stains, examining shoes, sharing historical hill racing tales.

And there I am.

The former city chick, a FAKER a NEWBIE pretending to FIT in.

“Okay folks. if you just gather round”
So, THANK YOU for coming to The Wrekin Wrecker 2014. Just a reminder there’s another event in December. And also reminder this is an FRA race so we will be carrying out checks at the end of the race and you will be disqualified if you are found not to have kit. If you just climb over the stile in an orderly fashion we’ll start the race at the red tape.

Jibber jibber. Jibber jabber.

“I’ll count from 5 as 10 is a bit too long isn’t it. 5 , 4, 3, 2, 1…..”
A symphony of watch beeps start the race. slodge slodge slodge slodge splat.

3 minutes in and I’m a bog fest. I enjoy mile one, a fair climb steady and slowly I keep the pace moving. Just keep moving just keep moving. Mile 2 features a 45 degree angle slide down a very muddy hill through some woods. I invent a kind of side crabbing technique on elbows and arse which another woman copies. If you can imagine a crab slogging across a mud pile to get back to the ocean you’re not far off the image. Laughing (quite literally) our arses off we arrive at the bottom of the hill to a mill of rapturous applause! COME ONNNN 24!!! ON YOUR FEET NOW!! they yell.

The next mile is undulating before we come to one monster of a hill climb. my legs aren’t ready. my back gives out. I remove race head reluctantly. OK greaves let’s abandon the timing and just try and get round this f***er. hands on knees I climb up and a desperately grapple onto chunks of long grass and dig my fingers into the mud. heart in mouth. panting like a Marlboro pensioner. SHIT I can’t get up it. I look up and actually consider grabbing the guy aheads backpack and getting him to pull me up. I lose about 40 places. Now I’m at the back. Shit man. this is f”””ng hard. Several long groans and moans and I make it at last. Cameraman awaits. What a bastard.

The next few miles continue in brutality, up, down, up down, undulation undulation, if i see another flipping undulation I’m going to squeal….I continue my reverse crawling technique on the steepies and hand scramble up humpies. head to toe in mud. nails filthy.

THIS IS SO MUCH FUN. WOODS I LOVE THE WOODS! MUST REMEMBER THIS! STUFF TARMAC! MORE MUD MORE MUD!

I feel like an 8 year child who has ran away from home in search of Enid Blyton’s The Magic Far Away Tree. Only I AM MOON FACE. By mile 7 my legs are quibbling. but god I’m happy. I stagger across the finish line like an convict who’s escaped from prison. Muddy. Giddy. Delirious. Beaming. Barmy. SHIT THAT WAS FUN I GLEAM….

Piss poor performance race wise. I finish in bottom 10%, my worst ever ever show. BUT MY GOD I would do it again!