Saturday, 21 September 2019

Maverick X-series Snowdonia Long 2019

Crazy long drive to Wales - just made the 'cutoff' at Snowdon Ranger Youth Hostel! Woke before 6 after a fitful night and just made it to the start in time.



The day was hot and remained dry throughout. I'd already decided to drop to the LONG (26m route) from the ULTRA but realised that if I started with the ultra bods I'd get an extra hour on the course - and I could drop down a level later (this is allowed). I need all the time I can get!





The plan was to power hike up and down Snowdon using the poles and then 'race' after that. I didn't want to burn myself out so early in the race and I knew from watching videos that a descent down Watkin path wasn't runable at all. Just get up and down in one piece with some quads left. 


It was worrying how tough even power walking was from a CV POV, I made it up [1:45] and down in good time but still missed the cutoff by about 15 mins. 

[View from the back of the pack #1] 


I've come to the sad realisation that if I'm going to beat cut offs I don't have time to take a single selfie (which doubles as a 'hey family, I'm still alive and on course' message) or stop to enjoy the view or smell the roses (there are no roses on Snowdon). Which is a real shame cos on a clear day like today you can see the sea.

 



Approaching the summit.



Just back down from the summit. 60 mph headwinds.



Pretend you're having fun!






Descending Watkin was OK because I was extremely cautious, until I started getting overtaken by the elites who'd started running the LONG at the proper time and were overtaking me like gazelles with death wishes. You can't help speeding up and it's a recipe for disaster. Forcing myself to slow down and run my own race meant I still fell flat on my back onto razor sharp slate but at least I did it at a leisurely pace. 



Finally made it off the mountain onto a gloriously flat tarmac road ... and twisted my ankle. Almost in shock at my own stupid clumsiness I started running the last few yards to the aid station. They informed me I was officially on the LONG route now as I'd missed the first cutoff (no problem) but in my mind I was doing everything to get out of the aid station before they noticed me limping and pulled me completely. 

Running up to this point had been bearable but a few minutes of standing still had made it painfully seize up. I entertained thoughts of dropping, or being forced to drop but after a few minutes of jogging along the road I settled on a policy of 'relentless forward motion' to see what that would bring.

My revised race strategy consisted of:

  • start taking ibuprofen now
  • don't stop for anything unless I have to
  • no fixing feet (I'd never get my shoes back on)
  • rely on the poles - at least with a completely busted ankle I had 2 'crutches' with me. 

Yay for poles!

Problem #2 - Water. Trying to beat the cutoffs at the second aid station meant I skimped on water and ran out before the third. Thank God for trail angels! A family that lived in the middle of nowhere were outside their house with buckets of fresh water and a hosepipe waiting for idiots like me to come along. 

Problem #3 was the 'other' two 'hills'. On paper they were dwarfed by Snowdon. Sadly I wasn't running on paper. They were terrible. This kind of terrible - 

[The view from the back of the pack #2]


 That's just a tiny bit of what the 'easy part' of the race looked like.

Problem #4 - Water (revisited). While I was having problems putting enough water into me, I was having no problem putting me into water. Fording rivers - ugh! Boggy marshland meant I was constantly getting up to my ankles and once up to my knee in peat. Wet feet and dragging half of the Welsh countryside along for the ride with me. A winning combo.


 I've got to admit as I tried and failed to keep within the cutoffs, my mental soundtrack was "Why am I doing this?" by the artist formerly know as "You're really crap at this". The poles probably helped me preserve my ankle, but slowed me down because I was still using them on runnable bits (there were a couple). It's tempting to blame the injury but I don't think I would have been much faster if I'd been uninjured. It was my overall fitness on the climbing that let me down.

I ran most of the last 4k (which included a suicidal, involuntary, gravity-assisted sprint down the approach road to the Ranger Path) and crossed the finish line a wreck of my former self, 40 minutes after the cutoff (1:40 really, if you include my early start).



9:40

I chugged a coke till my lungs threatened to explode, and then sat in a deck chair, scared to take my shoe off.



I covered 26 miles in 9:40, sprained my ankle, scraped my elbow, fell down five times, I also tripped over my own poles once, took a mouthful of dirt and waded through bogs. On the plus side I got a nice medal, a very nice T-shirt and spent some quality time with my son. 

UPDATE - Typing this up a few months later, the disappointment at being so slow has faded. I think I did all right - 26 miles anywhere is still a big achievement, let alone on Snowdon, and I shouldn't discount the mental resilience needed to finish with a sprained ankle.


I like the Maverick races, but the cutoffs are extremely challenging. UPDATE The 2020 races that have been announced have more generous cutoffs and (to my mind) easier routes. 

[Good photos by Phil Hill and Jake Baggaley. Other photos by me.]

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