Knockfarrel Hill Race 12/04/08
Knockfarrel is one of the six SHR championship races. Having done the championships last year and really enjoyed going to some unfamiliar but interesting runs we thought it would be fun to do as many as possible this year. Knockfarrel was a great choice. Just 5 miles of running it was the second of the 2 short courses, with 2 mediums and longs to follow.
Richard diligently warming up.If I had checked out the stats properly I might have decided to give it a miss – nearly 4 hrs drive to Strathpeffer for a 5 mile run followed by a long drive home wasn't tempting, but I'd committed to it before I realised just how distant it was. And well, maybe that distance would deter some of those who had done Bishophill. And the weather forecast was ominous hail.
Richard and I got a lift in Tony's car and I think we managed to talk about running for just under the 4hrs it took up the A9 to Inverness then on to Strathpeffer. Once there we found the Primary School, registered and made our way back through the village to the race start. The announcer said stuff about it being a record attendance (due no doubt to being a championship race) then set us off.
Good to catch up with pals (Graeme Jervis) we usually only see at the Heb 3I had looked at the first half mile while warming up and wondered if I would be able to skirt round the muddy puddles. With 150 jostling along a room-wide path the answer was no and you ran through whatever appeared in front. I was fairly relaxed at the off – possibly due to forgetting to take the race day caffeine drink (the one that gives you wings) and so didn't try to push through initially. But the filth from the waterlogged path was spraying high (I felt some touch my head due to the shortness of the go-faster-haircut I had recently acquired at Traditional Barbers (thanks Janet) (discount for Porties). Then a morsel of mud hit my mouth and I saw Tom Scott in front – I was literally eating his dirt. I legged it over to the left and found some drier ground at the edge of the path and zoomed past a number of folk.
Richard (in the background) managed the same time as Tom Bowie of FifeWe then climbed diagonally across a field – lots more mud and along a path to a very slippery wooden stile with no handrail and plenty of accident potential, before a long gasping slog up a steep path between fields for what seemed like an age. Ronnie Gallagher went past at this point (good to see him back on the racing scene) and had overtaken a number of mere mortals by the time the path met a wider track that gave us a refreshingly horizontal course, until we met a hilariously steep bank up which we had to climb. It was so steep you had to use your hands to pull on the vegetation as you ascended. I was thinking I could have done with a pair of those shoes you click together and a blade comes out the front, as modelled by that matronly lady in the James Bond film. Every time I lost my footing on the muddy stairs I could feel the hands of the next competitor clutching for holds beside them. I tried to keep it together as my quads burned and turned to jelly. Eventually we reached the top and the hill levelled off. I began to recover as we ran along the ridge. At least we seemed to be as high as any of the surroundings which meant we were on for some downhill. Tom Scott had caught up with me and I could hear snatches of “...going well, keep up the good work...etc,” which I interpreted as either 1/ Tom doing positive reinforcement therapy, 2/ Tom very quietly chatting to other runners or, worryingly, 3/ my subconscious breaking free in Tom's accent due to hypoxia.
Without pausing to think too long about that we approached the downhill and for about 30 feet it was as steep as the climbathon we had just come up. There was nobody directly in front of me and I was about to baulk at the vertical drop – looking for a less slithery route to the right - until I heard the footsteps of the guy I had overtaken anxious to retrieve his place bearing down from behind. So I went for it and managed - just - to keep my footing before storming along a flat section approaching another smaller drop.
Davey Francis who took our group photo (hurray) and beat Tony (boo)On the race route map the course seemed to have been like an angular tennis racquet – the handle leading in to a long rectangular circuit then back down the handle to the finish. Curious then that I had no idea which part of the course we were on at any time. It also seemed like 8 or 10 miles not 5. (And at 46 minutes I wasn't even breaking 9 minute miles.)
Everyone had legs like this - well perhaps not as shapely, but with plenty of mud and bloodshedI can't remember how the previous section met the next but there was at one point a long fairly steep and fast descent on stony single track between gorse bushes that left your legs and hands pinpricked and bleeding as you dodged at high speed between them. All the time I could feel the guys behind keeping the pressure on but I didn't seem to be making any progress on catching the guys ahead. This made for anxious route finding as the course zigged and zagged through woods and trails. Or would have, only every turn was well marked with hazard tape and/or a bored looking teenage marshal. Just as you were getting used to one difficulty the course would turn a corner and you would be faced with a long slog, hands on knees and gasping, up a mud-slide. Over the top and another hair raising descent through some pine trees. Again the guys behind encouraging me to go slightly faster than comfortable I was bombing down fast steep pine needle covered ground of uncertain friction and blind corners. Then some forestry road and you have to unpack your road running legs and shift gear into an even pace. A gate crossed the road with a gap on the left which I took while Tom Scott went over the top. I was only just staying ahead.
Adrian - the other half of the Forres crew (wearing proper team colours.)Eventually we came to that long steep path between the fields and I knew I was about a mile from home. I was glad to return that way to swap potential energy for kinetic, jumping the drainage ditches and overtaking the guy in front who was flagging. Over that slippery stile again (careful now – no last minute disasters on tired legs,) and head diagonally across the field towards the muddy exit. I see Tom lower down the field trying to cut a corner somehow but I have a better line and I suspect the last few weekends' 20 milers gave me the endurance required to squelch through the mud and onto the trail that leads to the finish. However its not over yet and there is a lot of sploshing through saturated ground (I think they must have imported the mud there's so much) before finally turning the corner and crossing the line.
some went straight through...
some tried to go around...
but everyone got a little mud on their shoesInteresting to run a race without a caffeine bolt; the race was so exciting you were full of adrenaline for most of it. And it certainly seemed way more than five miles. After the first couple of climbs nobody went past me and I managed to catch a couple of stragglers. This (and finishing ahead of Tom Scott, just,) made me very pleased, after a couple of lack-lustre road-race performances.
I got the camera and went back up the track to take some photos. The hail hadn't materialised and the weather was near perfect. Sandwiches, homebakes and cups of tea were really appreciated and with a long drive ahead we left after a rudimentary wash in the low basins of the primary school. We managed to fill the next 200+ minutes with running chat again and all agreed the trip was well worth the effort. An excellent event that rose to the challenge of the increased numbers drawn to a championship race. Highly recommended and 5 stars for excitement/adrenaline rush. Many thanks to Tony for the very smooth chauffeuring job.
Team PRCReport pb
Photos pb, Davey Francis, Colin DonnellyResults here
