Borrowdale Fell Race - 6th August 2005
Decisions SHOULD be easy – we make loads each and every day.
The idea of the Borrowdale race has been rattling around for years -ever since Joe, Alan and Byso came back from a climbing trip with tales of a long hard fell race followed by a surreal party in a marquee with much jumping about to a steel band. That was in the days when we were limited to walking and climbing. The idea of running around mountains was to take a while to grow. There was some talk about the Borrowdale race again earlier this year but it was on a plane to Birmingham (of all places) that the final decision to run was made.
With Rob P at a wedding, the only other person mad enough to think it would be a nice way to spend a Saturday was Lesley. We drove down on the Friday evening stopping briefly at a chippy in Keswick. The campsite was busy and it was hard to spot the tourists amongst the fell racers. Next morning and there was much faffing about trying to decide how much food and water to carry as well as what to wear. Lesley seemed very calm and very sorted. I briefly considered sharing my concerns about how hard the race was …but thought better of it.
Registration done, kit packed and last minute nerves in check (well sort of) and it wasn’t long till we were under way. Not exactly sure why, but we got caught in a slow(ish) pack and the first few miles along to the foot of Bessyboot were a little frustrating – not helped by a lass who insisted on trying to overtake on very narrow sections of track. The first climb was better – a chance to settle down and get some height under the belt and gain a few places. First control out the way and the running out towards Scafell Pike was great – even managed to get a gel down replenishing energy for later. The climb from Esk Hause up Scafell itself was familiar – not because I had ever been there ….but it was so similar to so many of the Scottish Munros. For the first time in the day we were joined by groups of walkers.
The descent from Scafell Pike was mental. The race organisers had suggested a “safe” route but the majority were opting for an incredibly steep scree gully. The decision was made …descend by quickest (but rather unsafe) route. Holding back and trying to control the descent didn’t work – best strategy was to kinda fall and then try to regain balance before the gully ended several hundred meters below. Once onto the corridor route, sensible running resumed – how sensible it looked to the walkers ascending by the same route is debatable.
By the time I reached Sty Head I was totally gubbed. The wobbly legs and dizzy head were making it difficult to manage anything more than a slow run / stumble combination. The decision to only carry one litre of water had been wrong. I didn’t have enough left to get a dry energy bar down and the remaining gel didn’t appeal. Thankfully, the kindest girl on the planet (who was doing support for some other runners) gave me a pouch of lucozade (did I really look that bad ????). Another girl gave me a square of flapjack and soon the world seemed a better place again. The drink was added to the little water I had left and recovery began. As I started up Great Gable I wondered how Lesley was getting on and where about in the madness she was.
Over Great Gable and I was feeling better again. Some scrambling down to Windy Gap then nice ridge running along Green Gable, Brandreth and towards Grey Knotts. A pack of about six runners started working together – positions changing but nobody opening a gap …or falling behind either. The best line down to the slate mine & Honister pass control was not obvious and a committee decision was made. We passed though the control at exactly 3 hours 30 minutes. The last climb on the route was to Dale Head and it was actually alright ... but the last few miles to the finish were not. I nearly fell dozens of times and the effort to stay upright was ridiculous. Don't remember much about the final lanes or the river crossing that lead to the finish in the village, but staggered across the line spewing in 4 hours 27 minutes and 53 seconds.
All I could do was kneel down in the grass and try to stop the gut wrenching. It took about another few minutes before I was able to sit up and relax again. Getting Ben & Milly (the dogs for those who don’t know them) from the car, I returned to the finish hoping to see Lesley finish in better condition than I did. Sadly, she missed the cut off by 6 minutes. A later discussion revealed that two other runners who had been in the pack with Lesley but who decided on a different line from Grey Knotts, made the cut off by 2 minutes.
The results show Lesley as having “retired” which sort of suggests it was her decision - which it was not. Especially harsh considering she had already run for 4 hours 36 minutes, up Bessyboot, Scafell Pike, AND Great Gable. In the end only missing about 4 miles of the total 17 miles (and 7000 ft ascent) and even running the 2.5 miles back to the finish along the road.
We managed to hobble to the after-race party, which certainly lived up to it's reputation - wild pogo-ing to a steel band in a marquee in a field, culminating in a drunken Phil Davies skilfully negotiating the rings of barbed wire to reach the top of one of the marquee poles! We met a heap of folks all of whom were wearing the same “shattered but isn’t all this wonderfull” style smiles.
I was proud to wear the kilt to the party although it did seem to cause a little stir amongst one of two of the locals (i.e. the English folks). Scanning the results, there is a distinct lack of Scots take part (judging by the club representation) – not sure why this is the case ?
A great weekend based around a great race. The decision to head back north and the return to real life was probably not an easy one - it seemed a shame to stop !
German Race splits
Rosthwaite (start) 00:00:00
Bessyboot 00:45:30
Esk Hause 01:30:00
Scafell Pike 01:59:35
Sty Head 02:24:10
Great Gable 02:54:05
Honister Pass 03:27:50
Rosthwaite (finish) 04:27:53
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