KMF 25km trail run
After the last Open 5, I was feeling a bit grumpy and demotivated with no races in the calendar until the Isles of Scilly swimrun. So as well as the mountain bike event last week (which was just for fun), I searched around and found the Keswick Mountain Festival (KMF) had a whole selection of races. It was also well placed in my race calendar. So I entered the 25km trail race on Saturday and the 3km swim on Sunday. Might as well make a weekend of it!
I travelled by train and bus to be greeted by spits of rain. It was an uphill walk to the campsite as the rain got progressively heavier. It was a test of speed to get my tent up without the inside getting wet and before all my kit got completely soaked sitting on the grass next to it. I crawled inside and listened to the drumming on the walls whilst I put off getting all my waterproofs on to go for a final wee.
All night the wind blew hard and the rain fell. But next morning it was drier and I walked to and from registration without getting wet! No such luck for the start of the race. At the last minute I decided to carry my waterproof after all, even though I was wearing a windproof because it was really chilly. I needn’t have done. Within half an hour of starting, the sun was out and I was stripping off on the move, stuffing my jacket into my bag.
I knew the start was quite tight and there was a road crossing with a narrow gap in the wall. I got myself near the front to make sure I wasn’t held up. Past the campsite we went again and over undulating terrain, with a generally upwards trend! I was feeling good, powering over the tops of rises. But then the track got technical. There were roots and rocks and steps. I could hear people behind me and sensed the footsteps hot on my heels. This pushed me to run harder, to concentrate on keeping moving over the obstacles. Although one or two guys came past me, there weren’t many, which was pleasing.
Unfortunately, this effort was also taking it out of me and I realised I was overcooking things a bit. I was feeling a bit woozy and tired and we had only done about 5km! I slowed a fraction and made sure I was drinking.
Just after that a girl overtook me. I was pretty sure there were only two ahead of us, so that meant I had just moved from 3rd to 4th. At the feed station she stopped, whereas I ran straight through. Presently she caught and overtook me again. I kept her in sight and the gap wasn’t widening significantly, but I couldn’t close it. Up and over what I knew was the last big climb, and I had to work hard on the descent. Now people really were coming past!
We finally got to the road and a spectator confirmed I was in 4th – ‘but 3rd is just in front’ he encouraged me. I was pretty sure this is how it would stay, especially when the gap remained after the next feed station. However, the track was now easier and flatter, so I got into a rhythm and my own pace and soon I realised I was catching back up. I was feeling good again and even managed a cheery joke with a marshal about stopping at the tearoom. When I made contact I fell into the speed of the little group and ate a gel. Some more technical bits followed. I managed to trip over my own foot (to be fair, I sometimes do this on a tarmac pavement too) but after a while I felt I was ready to move on.
Nice little surprise in wait at this point as the route tipped upwards again. In my head this half of the race was more or less ‘flat’! I kept working, occasionally glancing back and seeing the gap was not much. My water was running low, and at the final feed station I stopped for an electrolyte drink. I was feeling parched and it was much needed, despite my initial scorn at why a station was needed so close to the end!
In Manesty Woods we all went the wrong way. I had peered at a junction, but with no arrow or flag in sight, carried on the main track. I was starting to worry about the lack of flags, but 400m later, the route popped out again on our left. It turns out we went the ‘long way’ round anyway. Looking at Strava flybys later, we clearly weren’t the only ones! This was the only route mistake though, as it was well signed with little red flags dancing in front of us the whole way.
‘Just’ a few km to go, but the vigour of an hour ago had left me and now it was beginning to hurt. All I could muster for the marshals was a grunt and half a wave. I promised myself the last remaining gulp of water I had left after the next km. I kept thinking, ‘less than a parkrun to go’. In some trees we turned off the main track and uphill again. The scent of flowers was heady in the air. We were twisting and turning a bit now, which was to my advantage as I would be hidden round the corners. Now when I glanced back, I could not see my rival. I dare not let up though, even though I could feel my body was flagging.
We got to some streets and had to be close to the end of the lake. Round we went, almost there. My watched beeped 24km. I had plotted the route on a map beforehand and suspected it measured long, but I kept hoping I was wrong. This was hurting so much! We seemed to wiggle and turn, avoiding every direct route back to the finish. Finally I could see some flags, but even then there was a zigzag to get to the finish arch! I was grimacing and collapsed on the floor. My watch read 26km.
After a bit of recovery (=lying on the floor groaning) I couldn’t quite believe it. This was a big race with over 200 women entered, and about 170 finishers. I had aimed for top 20, would have been more than happy with top 10, had believed at one point I’d finish 4th, and then had made it to 3rd. In fact, it turned out that another girl had been closing the gap and slipped in between myself and the person I had been racing. I had needed to keep pushing! I was 45th overall out of 421. My time was slower than expected, but I had based my target on my experiences at the Hardmoors White Horse course, which had less climb and was much less technical.
I was starting to get a bit emotional after all the effort, when I spotted my teammate Paul and got a hug off him. I never quite trust results until they have been announced and I’m on the podium. This despite everyone round the course confirming what I knew and it being on the tannoi as I crossed the line.
Happy days, just time to eat and do my best to recover before the next race! (the awesome Gococo socks went straight on).
Many thanks to race sponsors Salomon and for my cool race belt prize. Also to Paul Wildman Mitchell photography for a couple of race snaps and course director Charlie Sproson of Mountain Run. Great race this one, loads going on over the weekend for supporters / other racers, and the entry fee included porridge, pasta and a T-shirt as well.