Preston
Harriers Fell Section
:- Fellblog
Mountain
Trial 2005
The
picture is of Jim Running (in Orange). Not at Coniston, It's one I prepared
earlier.
Coniston
Sunday September 4th
20
miles 8000 feet of climbing
LETS
TALK ABOUT A BAD RUN
In the
Harriers’ magazine its all about success and good times and going over the
finish line to the cheers of the adoring crowd.
Well now
I'm going to bring a new dimension to the mag. and describe what can really
happen to us all when we do not prepare properly and think we can still go out
and get razzled two nights before a big fell race.
It just
happened to be on one of the hottest days of the year, (15 degrees at 7am is not
good news) and my start from near Coniston at 9am had me lining up alongside the
"legendary" Joss Naylor. Me,
with my backpack and Platypuss, enough food for a week in the
Arctic
, compared to all the rest with tiny bumbags the size of a teabag and a thimble to
collect spring water. I felt like a fully loaded Nomad in a desert
full of Cheetahs.
Off we
went and straight away sweat was pouring off me, all that nasty beer
(the Devil's Brew) coming out of me in bucket loads. The heat was
oppressive, it was hotter than Kylie Minogue in a wet tee shirt, eating a
Vindaloo in
Bangkok
, in a heatwave. I was that hot!
First
checkpoint got through ok, then decided a route choice to no 2. I look at
the map and it's one of those
Harveys
1 to 40000 funny things with only contours and big features. Where was
the Ordnance Survey 1 to 25000 with all those lovely green paths showing you the
way and all the little nooks and crannies to avoid. I wouldn't use a 1 to
40000 in my car never mind on the side of Wetherlam.
I set my
compass, which points me to go over a massive hill, no, a mountain, I'm sure
there was snow on the top, it was that high.
Anyway all
the other runners I can see are going round the hill on a lovely firm path but I
decide to pull a fast one and go up and over.
Jim, you
complete plonker. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Why do I always do it. But 'hey',
no its great fun fighting through heather as high as my house and scrambling up
shingle that feels like treacle. Honest.
Eventually
get over the other side and my thighs stop burning as I drop slowly down. I’ve
been gulping water like an elephant at the last watering hole in the
Savannah
, and had already forced down a Lucosade gel as a pick me up.
A
quick look at that poxy squiggle of lines I had jokingly called a
"map" and my next control should be coming up shortly in about 1k or
was it 3k or 5k, I just could not get the scale into my head.
And
then it really all went wrong, drastically wrong, on a scale so big it’s up
there with the Titanic, Hindenberg, Apollo 13, and even
England
's defeat against
Northern Ireland
.
I had just
mentally switched off and did the old "follow the guy in front" trick.
They must know where the control is.
Anyway 3
miles later I see a big tarn come into view, at last something big and physical
to really get a fix on the map. so I had a look. Oh bloody +#~?#. I've
only gone past by about 2 miles and 1000ft of climb and actually nearer the next
checkpoint near Coniston Old Man.
It's too
far to go back now and I'm knackered anyway, so I plod on past Goat Water to
control 3 where I inform them I missed number 2, "well mate
you're disqualified" said the
marshall
.
Talk about
music to my ears, I needed an excuse to bin it anyway, and this was it.
There is
no way I could have carried on to compete the course anyway. I wasn’t
even half way round yet so I decided to sit down, have a sandwich and a drink
and then set off slowly back to the start. Having made the decision to retire
was such a relief.
On the way
back I felt like a little kid again, out on a special walk or adventure. I
splashed and played in all the tarns, drank from all the streams, talked to all
the tourists who all saw my race number still on my vest and looked at me as if
they were thinking "what a loser" "a comlete failure". And
that is how I felt.
Even back
at the finish "no going in the finishing arena, just go over to that cabin
and put your dibber in that tub marked "did not finish.....losers
only". Didn’t finish
, I hardly started.
Even
Wilf's cafe were reluctant to give me my after race meal. "We'll give
it to you this time but don’t come back for anymore you loooooseeer"
So then I
sat next to the finish line and watched them all come home, all joyous and
successful, all talking of their times and route choices, the Tannoy
congratulating winners and finishers but no mention of "dibbers in buckets
losers."
So that
was it. A real crap run. And I
was angry. Angry with myself that I had let myself go, that I was a few pounds
heavier than I should be, that I had not put the miles in and that I was not
determined enough and did not have the mental toughness on the day to do what
was required.
Jim
in happier times. On right next to Mick our Chairman
So then I
knew it would have to change, I will eat better, drink less booze, (No Black
Sheep brewery trip for me)
Jim seen pre training. Tall, Strong,
Handsome & in Orange at the back.
Put in
more training and more effort.
But that
is the wonderful beauty of the sport of running - especially long distance fell
running. And it is what binds us all together and enables us to respect each
other.
It is
unlike any other sport because you can run but you can’t hide. You cannot let
the centre half sweep up after your mistakes, or you can’t get a
"lucky" bounce because there is no luck in running - it's you on your
own from the start through to the finish, and if you mess up in between or if
you are not up to it you can’t go looking for anyone to help you.......no guts
no glory.
That is
why people who don’t run do not understand the feeling of crossing the finish
line after giving your all.
Of what
emotions and determination you have had to endure through those 10,20,or maybe
30 miles, of the stamin and the pain, the highs and the lows and sometimes the
loneliness and isolation.
That is
why young or old, fast or slow, we have all experienced how I felt above and
realise what discipline and dedication is required to complete such events.
That was
it...you cant have a good run unless you have a bad one, but it was one of
life's experiences, one we, as runners must all go through.
I salute
you all.......................jim doherty 21/09/05
Mountain
Trial 1962 (scroll to bottom of Memory Lane)
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