Sunday 14th April, 11.30am. Along with nearly 300 other lycra-clad lunatics I am standing on the bridge in Hayfield as Dave Soles, the race organiser, gives us our final instructions for the Downfall race. Nobody can say I haven't prepared; along with Ruth and Barbara I have recced the route 4 times in 6 weeks. Still, to say I am nervous would be an understatement. I have had my pre race meds to stave off the achy leg and I have all my kit ready (unlike certain other GVS members). Numbers are called for the kit check, not me or anyone else I know, and we're off! Up Kinder Road in a blur of (mainly Pennine) stripy vests and off left onto the Snake Path. I hang back, right back, I feel totally washed out at the start of fell races and tend to lag from the start. I was pleased that a lot of the runners did not run the fields to the shooting cabin, evidently saving your legs is a common strategy.
The fast boys and girls were way, way ahead by the time we reached the narrow path above the reservoir and as we reached the bottom of William's Clough I managed to fall in the mud. We pressed on up in our little gang of 3, at the back but in sight of the rest. Looking up, the Downfall was being blown back like smoke from a factory chimney, a weird sight. A walker making his way down warned us that it was very blowy up at the top, as we neared the checkpoint at the fingerpost the wind was so strong that I could barely stand. Pressing on up to the top was very, very hard. My face was being blown about all rubbery and it was impossible to take 2 steps without clinging on. We headed slowly toward the downfall, it was quite scary close to the edge, and I put on my outer jacket as the stinging water pelted me.
Once I have crossed the downfall there is a great sense of relief, it's the turning point of the race. I caught up with 3 ladies ahead of me and felt a bit better: we were at the rear but not doing so very badly. As we ran over the gritstone towards the trig point I felt I was going quite well and even managed to capture that great sense of freedom and enjoyment that comes with fell running. We finally headed off down the stone flags and bore left down to Edale Cross and the 2nd checkpoint.
The rocky path down from Edale cross is best avoided so we made our way down over the grass then bore off to take the path on the right that leads down to the fields and Tunstead House. I managed to fall over again chasing Barbara along the narrow stony path. Did she look back? Did she heck!
Through the fields I was provoked into running like a mad person by a man who came out of the sidelines and started yelling at his wife that she could "take her out." Since they were both keen to be such winners I let them pass. That last mile along the road is a killer and I needed my legs.
The final stretch saw me hardly running. I'd totally lost any energy and plodded my way past the campsite and along the lane and across the bridge to the football pitch and the finish. I was totally elated, Barbara had finished a minute ahead and Ruth a little behind me. We did it! Now, when's the next one?
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