The Hurly Burlies!

An early start today with me being on the 7:15am train to get to Salford Quays for an 8am swim. A hot and sunny day combined with the Great North Swim being next week would mean the dock was likely to be mobbed if I had arrived later. I did 4x750m laps without a wetsuit, taking it easy as I had a fell race later in the day. Getting out, I had a wee chat with Rach' from the Tri club, shoved on my t-shirt and shorts and toddled off to Booth's to do some shopping.

Ohhh........I thought my trunks were dry enough but obviously not! I had a huge wet patch around my groin......wearing grey shorts! It looked as though I had wee'd myself! It was quite embarrassing walking through Manchester Piccadilly train station.

A very early lunch in preparation for the race. I started to become slightly concerned when outside doing a wee bit bike maintenance. It was very hot and humid, not the ideal conditions for a bald, ex-ginger Jock! The start of the race is a perfect warm-up distance from my house so off I trotted to register. Wow.....even an easy jog up Long Lane was quite challenging due to the heat. When registering, sweat was dripping off my head, leaving the form quite soggy!

Fell races are great, typically friendly affairs that cost £2-5 to enter. The route today was a simple one, up, round and down Coombes Edge, which you can see from the picture taken from my loft room. We lined up on Glossop Road ready to start. There was a moment of concern when the Charlesworth Carnival Queen, well more of a 6 year old fairy, pointed the air horn towards her face and prepared to blow it. Fortunately, an adult intervened, ensuring the horn was point in the right direction and a dishevelled, deafened fairy was avoided.

We were off....down the steep hill towards Chisworth, a sharp left and then onto the trails. I felt ok for all of 5 minutes and then I started to suffer. The legs were feeling fine but I was hyperventilating and my head felt as though it would explode. When we started the steep ascent, my legs buckled too. "How can I be suffering from heat exhaustion within 10 minutes" I thought. A voice came in my head saying 'turn round, quit...go get an ice cream" but then I thought that Rosemary would be disappointed in me if I did so.....her voice won!

The final bit of the climb was horrible, I was feeling sick and dizzy. I could see lots of runners far in the distance....me near the tail of the field. There was a crowd of about 25 people at the top, mostly hill walkers but a few supporters too. They were all the more noticeable by their silence. I was feeling like shite and needed a cheer! "What a rubbish crowd you are" I managed to shout in between my shallow wheezy breaths. A half-hearted cheer then emanated from the less miserable of the bunch. I smiled, concentrated on getting my breathing more measured and managed to start running along the ridge.

I passed a guy who was about 50m ahead only a minute before, concentrating on staying light on my toes, avoiding the numerous ankle traps on the rutted trail. I probably had my best ever descent of Coombes......"wind down the windows.....run like a girl" I said to myself (no offence to the numerous running girls I know that run with elegance and poise). I passed 3 more people....wow! That never happens on technical trails. I thought about my run with Oli' a few months back.....when it was sheer joy! I smiled!

After a few styles and a fast moving women passing me, I crossed the line in the longest ever 35 minutes of my life! I lay down on the grass and poured a whole bottle of water over my head, shut my eyes and tried to relax. Ohhh no.....the hurly burlies, a feeling more common when your head hits the pillow after 8 pints of lager! It passed, and I picked myself up onto my feet, walked through the stalls in the carnival with sweat still dripping in my eyes. It was a walk, jog, walk home with my legs still feeling wibbly wobbly. No time to rest.....I headed off to Glossop to do my fruit n veg shopping, rewarding myself with a mahussive croissant aux amandes and some freshly squeezed orange juice.

I met a fellow runner from the village when alighting the train. He's an old boy probably in his 70's....thin, lithe but muscular legs and the look of someone who was very fast when he was younger. He said he had taken it easy and laughed when I said it was a tough hill! "That? tough?" he said, half mockingly, then told me of his recent running trip to Chamonix. He had done a 2:30 marathon many years ago and had even written a book jointly with the famous Ron Hill! He may be a little crooked now, but his legs told a million stories and I can't wait to bump into the old geezer again to hear some of them.