Broughton Heights - Inter Counties Fell Champs - 28 May 2011...

Distance: 10k (6.2 miles)

In a time of...
hh:mm:ss
00:55:18

Finishing Position: 35
Number of finishers: 183
Putting me in the top: 19.1%

My first ever delve into the world of fell running - okay I'd run up some big hills before, so I had a loose idea of what to expect, but I'd never raced a fell race, pushing consistently hard up and down hill. So after a verrrrrrry long Friday afternoon/evening drive up to Hamilton in Scottyland, we (my partner Emma and I) arrived at our hotel at 23:00, only to find a wedding reception taking place - and it just so happened our room was directly above the disco room - oh joy! Thankfully by the time we settled down and were ready for bed, I went and spoke to reception who assured me there would be silence from 11:50. At midnight, all was quiet, and we finally settled to sleep.

Race day came and the weather was somewhat changeable - from windy to blazing sunshine to heavy rain showers, it was impossible to guess what conditions the race would be graced with. A 25min drive and we arrived at Broughton and parked up, with some rather large hills surrounding the area, I tried (and failed) to work out which ones we'd be running up and over.

I registered, changed (ripping a pair of socks in the process), laced up my new Inov8 X-Talon 190's and headed outside for a warmup… then as the heavens opened I made a dash for the car to get a change of kit (to include windproof/waterproof jacket) and proceeded to change again to account for the rain. By the time I'd changed not only had the rain died down, but it had stopped, and the sun was blazing. I only had to walk outside and I was dripping with sweat with my windproof top of. So off it came again but went into the bag which contained the required kit for a fell race (I forget what it included now, but just the essentials). I warmed up, Team Warwickshire lined up at the start - wished each other good luck, and off we went - the race was underway!

A comfortable run on familiar terrain (i.e. flat and firm) saw team member Phil Gould keen to push on the pace whilst the terrain was to his advantage, though we continued to run a comfortable but strong pace. The route turned onto a grassy field with a slight incline, and already I could feel myself labouring. “God if I'm labouring on this gentle slope, how the hell am I going to cope with the rest of the course!?"

The first proper climb came and as my legs started to burn I did as most of the other runners did and resorted to very short steps, dropping to a power-walk in places with hands on knees. As we meandered up the slope I was already looking forward to the descent - It soon came and whilst I made up some ground on the others, I was just grateful that the constant burning in my quads had gone whilst I was essentially freefalling down the slope.

We reached the next climb and oh my lord, it sure was one hell of a climb. Despite my best efforts, I struggled to sustain a run at all, and began power-walking up the hill - by this point both Phil and other teammate Connor Carson we just behind me, and then soon alongside of me, and then soon just ahead of me. The climb was so draining that I was struggling to stay with these guys at walking pace up the hill… around 2miles into the ~10k race my calves were tight and burning, my quads too were burning, and already I was wondering what on earth I was going to do to survive the rest of the race.

As runners passed me one after another I could see teammates Connor and Phil increasing their gap ahead to me... now it's not like me to normally think like this at all, but I began to get agitated at my comparative incompetence on the fells and think to myself "I'm quicker than both of these guys on the road, even on Hilly courses - how the hell am I struggling to stay anywhere near them when we're just walking?". The climb eventually leveled off... momentarily... there was a slight and short descent as I recall, though the windy conditions and lactic buildup certainly didn't make it feel like it was in any way a downward slope. Soon we were climbing again - and the next section is a bit of a blur in my memory - I vaguely remember a combination of climbing, then struggling to find footing of any descents... more runners overtaking me, teammates getting ever further ahead, and an ever increasing feeling of being fed-up with the race.

The next thing that I recall was approaching a big descent - "YES!" I thought... "a chance to make up some ground and not have to walk!"... as soon as the descent started I became far less enthusiastic - the eccentric loading of the quads was too much - and I wept like a baby as I minced my way down this huge descent - my brain completely unsure what it should do for the best... It's a race; must descend as quickly as possible... but the hills too steep to run flat out; have to hold back to stop myself from falling... but holding pack causes immense discomfort in the quads; perhaps I should walk?... but walking would completely ruin any chance you have of a half decent result... Ohhhhhhhhh balls!

As these thoughts went over and over in my head, I made my way down the slope as fast as I could without falling, and just cringed at the pain. Once at the bottom it was time to erm... start going back up again! (seriously... who thinks up these crazy fell races?!). The climb saw more runners come past me, a bit hazy in the memory again but we eventually reached a quite steep section that was almost literally a 'climb'... no chance of running and grabbing hold of vegetation, bits of fencing or anything else available to haul myself up the slope - a queue of runners behind me, several of whom would burst past me each an every time the course allowed them to.

The climb began to level off a bit, but my legs were gone... or so I thought... "Right that's it - I give up... fell racing is ridiculous... I take my hat off to these machines who can do it seemingly so effortlessly, but I am hopeless at it... and I don't intend to punish myself any further - I'll simply ease my way back to the finish and to hell with the result".

That thought lasted about 30seconds... Until I was passed by a young, light-footed girl, and then another female, both in quick succession. Not sure what logic or reasoning there was behind my thinking at this point, because in reality there is none, but I don't care - for some reason, at that moment in time, it became my sole objective to finish ahead of those ladies - whatever it took. So with an almighty effort I set about chasing after them, and followed them up the remaining gentle upward slope, passing a couple of runners along the way, and then before I knew it - the course was going downward, a very gentle downward slope "WOOOOHOOOOO!!!!" I thought, as my stride started to open up I was virtually free-falling at terminal velocity (or so it seemed)... I passed one runner after another as I my legs freewheeled... stomping down uncontrollably with each stride. The headwind was immense and my eyes were watering - it really was a case of keeping running and hope you don't hit a pothole/molehill - you could barely see a thing other than the direction of the course, and what colour the runners vest is a few meters ahead of you.

The wind died down momentarily, or the course leveled off a bit, in either case I could see a little better, and I could see that the 200-300m lead that teammate Connor had on me was now nearer 50m. the course turned to the right and the descent became increasingly more steep. 40m gap, 30m gap... BANG! "AAAARRRRRGGGHH!!!!" Not quite sure what happened but I took a bad step and it completely jarred my right hand side. It didn't appear anything serious - it was just as if someone had kicked me in the kidney; a swift bruising blow. I felt fine on the more shallow gradients but the steeper sections I really had to ease off - as a result, whilst I managed to pass Connor on the flat, he passed me when we hit the steeper section - eventually back onto the steadier slope and I was past him again... and away!

We came towards the end of the grassy section of the course - I knew there was a portion of road running before the finish, but wasn't quite sure how much. The last section of descent saw a left hand turn and over a stoney section where my partner Emma and teammate Pete Matthews' wife were stood watching / 'supporting'... I use quote marks since Emma's support came in the form of "Come on Rich! Phil's whooping your ass!"... Oh thanks Em! I knew she meant it in jest and as motivation - but believe me I was trying... Phil had been completely out of sight while I reached my lowest point of morale on the course, but now he was around 75m ahead as we entered the road section.

The descent continued on the road, and Emma's motivation and the 'dangling carrot' of seeing Phil ahead in the distance really made me push on. I seemed to fall into a fantastic rythym and stride away down the road - Lord knows what the pace was but it felt fast... faster than 5k pace fast. I could see the gap to Phil closing and felt sure I could pull alongside him - the question was how much did Phil have left in the tank? The reality was we're in the same team, and it wouldn't matter who finished first - but there was another runner (or two - I forget) up ahead, who we were both keen to chase down.

I pulled alongside Phil and continued straight past him with the same momentum - now that I was passed I'd committed myself, and could let him catch me again, so I tried to kick on even harder. That's when I nearly lost it. With the tarmac appearing clean and freshly laid, on a fast descent, with me wearing some nice rubber studded fell shoes - the 45 degree bend in the road was a bit too much for my speed and as I flew round the corner I could feel the grip of my shoes going from underneath me - in what felt like a lifetime, but in reality was a couple of steps, I just about managed to stay upright and continue on my way.

I was able to pass one or two more runners on that descent before entering the field with the finish line, through a stream and up a cheeky sharp climb, I came over the finish line feeling well and truly spent.

Team Warwickshire finished a credible 8th out of 13 counties... not bad at all considering we're one of the flattest counties entering a team. I'd also say that my time of 55mins is a true reflection of just how hard the course really was!