Tag Archive: Fell Race
October 14, 2022,
by Pete
“The earth,” wrote Antoine de Saint Exupéry in his classic fell running memoir, Wind, Sand and Stars, “teaches us more about ourselves than all the books in the world, because it is resistant to us. Self-discovery comes when man measures himself against an obstacle.” Okay, so maybe the book was about flying not fell running, but the sentiment fits. The Langdale Horseshoe is a classic fell race; runner against a collection of all that the Lakeland fells can throw against them. It’s got everything from scrambling to fast runnable sections, river crossings to waist deep bogs. And it’s ran in October, because fell runners are daft in the head. Why go into the mountains on a nice day when you could go up in whatever Autumn is throwing at you? Last time I ran this race I was recovering from flu and my body just didn’t want to go. It’s... View Article
Don’t set out to impress. It’s childish, for one thing. Bloody childish. And for another, it will get you into trouble. Because when you’re out of the slips at quicker than flat 5k pb pace running up a lakeland fell, you’ll realise you’ve once again went off too hard. I glance around. What am I doing in fifth? This is lunacy. I’m not even performing at a level where I always accept the sobriquet of ‘fell runner’ so sitting in fifth in a race in the Lakes? Absurd. Sort your life out, Jobes. But also. Also, what if all of the Bob Graham training has transformed me into being half decent at this? Only way to find out is to push harder. At the mile mark I’d lost a few places but was still top ten and, having mocked Prefontaine last blog, I decided to employ another of his maxims:... View Article
October 14, 2019,
by Pete
I’ve often wondered what happens if it’s race day and your body just doesn’t turn up; today, I found out. I left work on Tuesday morning ice cold and aching all over. Having spent two days in bed and one on the sofa, I decided I should return on Friday – not least to prove that I was well enough to run on Saturday. Several people told me this was a silly idea. “You’re not well,” they said, “have a rest day and recover.” I listened and understood that what they were saying was wise. So, needless to say I woke up on Saturday morning and drove to the Lakes for Ambleside AC’s brilliant Langdale Horseshoe. It’s an AL fell race, which means it’s pretty much the best kind, if by best you mean hilliest and longest. It’s known for being brutal underfoot and attracts a good crowd of fell runners. It’s... View Article
There was a moment of joy, in amongst it all. One of those moments where your lungs seem to find an unlimited capacity and your legs float along, leaping over rocks like a mountain goat. There was a moment of joy, but there’s far more to my experiences at the weekend than that. The Turner Landscape is a fiesty little race on paper. It’s a shade over ten miles and a thousand metres of ascent – not to mention giving the opportunity to bag a few Wainwrights en route. The drive down through Wrynose Pass to Turner Hall Farm in the Duddon Valley, where it all starts, is enough to leave you breathless at the beauty. I’m not sure if J M W Turner influenced the naming of the farm, but he certainly spent a fair amount of time in Coniston and the surrounding area. He painted and sketched The Old Man... View Article
There are a few basic elements of a good narrative — you have a character, some conflict or adversity, and then a resolution. The thing that keeps us reading, watching or listening is the tension between those things. The writers of the medieval Ballad of the Chevy Chase understood this. They recounted a tale of Harry Hotspur, Earl of Northumberland, going on a hunt in the Cheviot Hills. The Scottish Earl Douglas saw this as an invasion and set off in pursuit, losing his life in the following battle. It had all those elements of a good story. Seven centuries later, competing in the 63rd Chevy Chase fell race, I expected a similarly epic story — though hopefully without a death at the end. What more would you want from a race steeped in such heritage? I was already penning a race report in my head, usually ending with me... View Article
On Sunday the elites of world mountain running raced at Zegama. It’s a race so legendary that they say, “Zegama is Zegama,” as though nothing could convey the essence of the race except the name itself. Basque crowds line the path of the Sancti Spiritu climb, only inches from the runners, to cheer them on. It’s a definite on my bucket-list, but also almost impossible to get into. There’s little I can do except keep entering the ballot and live in hope. Last night was the annual Ernie Johnson Memorial Penshaw Hill Race. It’s not Zegama but, for the briefest of moments, hurtling through the woods around the back of the monument, you could imagine. Penshaw Hill is a low lying hill that sits to the west of the city of Sunderland. It’s visible across the area thanks to the half size replica of the Temple of Hephaestus, in Athens, that... View Article
I’d been driving west for about an hour and a half when it happened. The A66 swept round towards Keswick and Blencathra appeared majestically on the right, a healthy dusting of snow on the summit and the ridge lines. I’m not ashamed to say I eased off the accelerator and whooped for joy. That view is like the gateway drug to the Lake District and to see it with just the right amount of snow, on a clear day, is pure joy. It was the Coledale Horseshoe today, one of the classic Lake District fell routes. Having spent the best part of last week reading past race reports, studying the OS map, looking at elevation profiles, and hitting refresh on mountain-forecast.com and the mountain weather information service, I arrived with peak anticipation for what was ahead. The weather was sublime. It felt as though a benevolent creator had designed days... View Article
