Blog Archives
Exciting Race News!
Have you heard of Ötillö?
People have been asking me for a few months what my plans are for this year. I’ve had to hum and ha, because I knew what I wanted to do, but didn’t know if I would be able to do it.
Ötillö is the SwimRun World Championship held in the Stockholm archipelago. In a team of two, you start on one island at the top and make your way across over 20 more, swimming between them and running across them until you get to the end!
This is the 10 year anniversary. The race is hugely popular and over-subscribed. There are three ways to get in:
1. Qualify in one of four set races
2. Selection by merits
3. Random draw
After I set my heart on this race, the first challenge was finding someone willing and able to do it with me! Just two weeks before the closing date, I hooked up with Izzy. Perfect! She is in the same club as me and we are very similar ability. At Celtman we finished within 4 minutes of each other.
The next challenge was making our merit application. As well as listing our top race results from the past two years, we had 500 characters to convince the organisers to give us one of only 6 merit spots for female pairs 😕 .
Tension built in the run up to the announcements. We heard that there were more than four applicants for each space. Then we were told the merit selections would be made two days early. On Wednesday morning I was in a state of high tension as I checked down the list as soon as it was published. Would we be judged good enough? Were we the sort of team they were looking for to be a part of this race?
Past the male pairs, onto female, past race qualifying listings, onto merits. Not there, not there, then … last on the list, there were our names!! I leapt out of my chair and ran down the office making excited squeaking noises 😀 .
More about the race, why I wanted to do it and tales from our build up to come. But for now, here’s our team description:
We first met at a cold, grey lakeside. We jumped in. As the wind whipped up waves we swam another lap. In 2012 only 9 women did Celtman Extreme. We were 2nd and 3rd. Izzy took a year off and created a business inspiring others to get outside and make the most of life. One tough race wasn’t enough for Rosemary who hasn’t stopped since. UK SwimRun interest is booming. We want to experience the original and tell everyone about it! 220triathlon.com will report on our race. The journey is calling.
Bowhill Medium Duathlon
The first race of the year! This weekend it was also the Strathpuffer 24h race which I almost got sucked into with a last minute invite … but I resisted.
And so I turned up at Bowhill ready to try and repeat my performance from the short one. Speedy Jo was busy showing everyone how it’s done at the Strathpuffer (winning the female pairs), so I knew I might be the one to beat today.
For some reason I felt more nervous than usual. I do get a bit stressed before the start of such short races! My tummy was playing up a bit and a short warm up ride was needed. I coaxed Glen out of the car and onto his bike – he had had one too many alcoholic beverages at his mum’s birthday party the day before – and off we went. It was cold and when it wasn’t muddy it was frozen and icy.
It was nearly midday and I had timed it quite well, taking off my last two layers sufficiently late not to get cold before the hooter went. I started off to the side because I am nervous in a mass bike start as it is, without all the snow and slidy stuff on the road. I soon found my place, though it was hard overtaking on the climb when there seemed to be just one line through the snow that everyone was following. If you got stuck behind someone going just a bit slower than you wanted, it took too much effort to get off the line and plough through to overtake!

Here we are riding in a line up the hill. I’m just behind German, in red, as I was for a lot of the race!
A small group of us from the club had come and been round the course the week before. Although some of the tracks were easier to ride because they were now more solid, I knew the first descent was all churned up by heavy forestry machinery. Last week it was just muddy and slidy. Today all the ruts and ridges were frozen and covered over by a layer of snow. I couldn’t see what was going on and caught my wheels, falling off once and nearly repeating the trick further down.
Luckily I escaped and got going again through the woods. As I took a sharp turn onto a slippy looking road I was surprised to see Kirsty McPhee overtake me. At the last race we had played leapfrog during the run but I had been faster on the bike. Yikes – this wasn’t in my plan! I had wanted to get a nice cushion on the bike and see if I could hold it on the run! I accelerated past again and it was just the incentive I needed to work properly hard. I didn’t look back, but as we came into transition, sure enough she was hot on my heels just 3 seconds behind 🙂
I had a quick transition, easily spotting my place in the racking thanks to my bright red new shoelaces that were a Christmas present from my mum. I left before Kirsty, praying that all my recent run training would make this part less painful than last year …
The run starts with a long, rough climb with squelchy bits. I was lucky that a club mate was right next to me. It was the motivational pull to keep me going as the path got steeper and I stuck to his heels like glue. I even went past near the top and descended the snow covered track the other side ‘somewhat competently’. At least, it felt like it, and not many people over took me.
Off the tricky bit and although we could catch glimpses of the house through the trees that meant we were physically near the finish, but we still had a big loop round by the lake to do. I concentrated on doing ‘triathlon arms’ rather than ‘adventure race arms’. This means I had them high and pumping, trying to drive me onwards, instead of low and energy conserving!
I hadn’t looked back and every time I heard footsteps and heavy breathing behind I was trying to gauge whether it was a man or a woman. Not far from the end, as we did a sharp turn, I glimpsed over my shoulder and couldn’t see anyone. I couldn’t be sure though and kept pushing on. It was like doing a Parkrun – I was beginning to feel a bit nauseous! I did want to do a strong sprint finish, but my legs weren’t having it. I got to the line, dibbed and turned round.
I was clear. Woohoo! In the end I had in fact won by just over 3 minutes. I was delighted. Kirsty held onto 2nd and my friend Caroline was 3rd.
It’s hard to tell how times compare when course conditions change. So I had a look at the top 10 fastest bike and run times last year and this. Everything was a little bit slower this year, but my run was nearly a minute quicker and I placed much higher. Things are moving in the right direction! Full results here.
I had five goals for this race and met 3.5 of them:
1) Sub 65 minutes. Total time = 1:04:12 – CHECK
2) Top 25 overall on bike. 12th – CHECK
3) 5:15 average per km on run. 5:18 – just missed it!
4) Enjoy the run. Sort of, it wasn’t total hell anyway – HALF!
5) Win. – CHECK
The final of the series is in February and The Adventure Show TV crew will be filming. Just a bit of added pressure!
Thanks to Durty Events for putting on such a fun race again, and to Andy Upton at Zupix for the photos.
Haglöfs Open 5 North York Moors
It’s been a few weeks since the last Open 5. In the intervening period I have ridden my mountain bike more often than I ever have – 11 weeks in a row and counting! I’ve also been trying to get my running back on track after straining a muscle in my hip, on top of a niggly problem that’s been annoying me since June. On the physio’s orders I have been running little and often and never fast. Unfortunately, my hip is still complaining, but at least I lined up for this race knowing I could run some, which was better than last time.
Lucy warned me that she had been manic at work and was feeling tired. When we met up at the event base I knew I needed to loan a few bits of essential kit (which we have to carry one per team). I wasn’t expecting a request for cycling shorts though. Astonishingly, due partly to my indecision about what to wear, I could proffer a brand new unworn pair of thin padded pants! Perfect to go under running leggings, which Lucy did have.
So, we were all kitted up and set off running after the rain had stopped. I commented that it was nice that it wasn’t too windy. Famous last words. We trotted up a hill on the road (due to a last minute change of map plan because a crazy lady didn’t want people on the public footpath on her farm) then dived onto a path. The way was not clear and was blocked by gorse bushes. But no! Apparently this was a path and we fought our way through, sometimes ducking as the gorse closed over our heads like a tunnel, sometimes brushing through, getting prickled head to toe.
We were lucky finding the next control quickly in a slightly confusing wood, then hiked up a steep hill, taking the chance to chat and catch up on life. When we emerged at the trig point, the sun was shining and the views were glorious.
Lucy had initially planned a nice circuit, perhaps a little longer than I’d ideally like, but doable and what looked like the only sensible option. However, when we got the control values we had to change our minds as many of our chosen controls were worth zero, or just 5 or 10. So instead we were running along the top of a ridge on the Cleveland Way. I was feeling good and wondering why Lucy was dropping back on the uphills. This wasn’t right! Luckily it was just tiredness rather than anything more serious like a breathing problem. I did not think it would be wise to try and tow (just wrong!) but perhaps even mention of this gee’d Lucy up a bit as she started running in front again 🙂 .
After a while my hip was grumbling a bit but was not painful. I was also remembering why I keep fighting these niggles, as it was joyous to be moving fast out in the hills and for it not to feel like torture. My hip might not be right yet but the consistent training has brought all the rest of my running muscles back to life.
After 1h11mins we had a decision point. To do an extra 4km loop for 45 points or head back straight away. Of course we did the loop! It was worth it as we saw James, the photographer, out on course. He got a hug and we got some great photos! Reviewing it later, this was a good decision – it would have been difficult to get that many extra points in the same time on the bike. Leaving here the paths turned muddy and it started snowing. Our friends said it snowed for 10 minutes but I only noticed it for one or two. My mum had been right in forecasting this and I hadn’t believed her 🙂 .
As we trudged up a hill I took the opportunity to re-evaluate the bike plans. We were going to get back later than expected and we would need options to cut things short. My decision was to reverse our planned loop. This meant we’d have the easy road section at the start instead of the end, but it did get us through the committing bit early and gave us at least 3 short cut options when we might need them later.
- “There’s a stile over the fence”
- “We’re going straight there!”
- Normal running order is restored
It was a long run back from the last control to transition – 43 minutes, a lot of that on a sticky slidy bridleway into a biting strong wind, then down a steep road. I had to laugh; last month I had told Lucy we’d do 3.5h of biking and then led us on a merry dance of 4.5h. This time she said she’d take me on a 1h45m running loop and we were out for 2h25m – even longer than usual! Payback came quickly this time 😀 .
In transition, I switched as much kit as possible from Lucy’s bag to mine, ran through the new plan and off we went biking. Since Lucy had been feeling tired after less than an hour, she made it clear there were to be no hard efforts … I was annoyed with myself for forgetting my bike tow as it would have been perfect here, cruising along a road. I’ve carried it so often and not needed it, so Sod’s Law we needed it now. Instead, I kept a fair pace but not too hard, and we still overtook people. I was conscious that the wind was behind us though.
At one point we could choose a short route through the muddy wood we had encountered on the run, or the long route on the road. We went road and I started giving Lucy a helping hand up the hills. My hip wasn’t entirely happy about this (darn, why was the tow at home?!), but I kept switching sides and it got no worse. We had a long hike-a-bike to get on top of the moors but it was worth it for a stunning ride on a great quality path up to a trig point.
When we turned from there we got the full force of the wind in our faces. We had been warned at registration that it was ‘cold on the tops’ and they weren’t wrong! The gorse had pulled my buff off earlier, and it was now in my bag with my coat. I was getting ice cream head just riding along even though it was sunny! As we descended a horrible mud slide in the woods I was getting frozen. Lucy was flapping her hands madly and I was thinking: ‘If I feel this cold she is probably colder!’.
Maybe we should have stopped and put coats on here, but we hoped the next road would bring a nice warming hill climb, and it did. I did some vigorous pushing, but it was not only for Lucy’s benefit. The extra effort was warming my body, and my hands were getting toasty wedged between her bag and her back! We were getting good at riding very close together and only nearly came to grief as our handlebars locked once 😉 .
There was a certain control, number 9, that I wanted to go and get. It was an out and back for 10 points, an extra 1.8km in total. We just missed the turnoff though and Lucy looked like she might just sit down and refuse to go on if we went for it. She said ‘if we lose by 10 points, it’s on my head!’. Lucy’s such a fighter that I realised things must be bad and so we carried on, up and up a long hill. We kept on chatting, it’s a good way to distract from an unending road.
Soon we were we flying down the hill towards the finish. But wait, we had a little flat road detour to make for another 35 points. This was already in plan. But suddenly I realised Lucy’s hidden genius. By missing out number 9 (10 points, on what we heard later was a difficult track) we had saved enough time to go for number 3 (25 points), another 2km each way from home, but along a road and good track. She had already turned her bike to go back but somehow I persuaded her. I think it was the thought of coming in 10 minutes early that did it – it just wouldn’t be right 😀 . I said ‘if we win by 10 points, you can take the credit for it!’.
We slogged along into the wind and, as it turned out, a slight uphill. Got the control, turned back. I was pushing as hard as I could and my legs were really burning. But I needed this to pay off since it was my decision to take the slight risk. Finally we could see the last junction, we were turning and we were there. Just under 7 minutes late, 14 penalty points. Yes! Number 3 had earned us an extra 11 points.
Lucy was so cold, we had to get inside and warmed up as soon as we could. Cups of tea were drunk with shaky hands as we waited anxiously for the results. Female pairs were announced first. 3rd place had 380 … phew, back on the podium at least … 2nd place, with 400 points … woohoo! That meant we had won as we had 441. I was immediately chastised as we didn’t need those 11 points after all! But Sue and Louise (who came 2nd) are strong competitors who won last month. You never know when you’re out on the course where you are, so you have to give it everything you can, just in case.
As the other categories were announced we realised we had actually done OK and had a respectable score. Results here. It wasn’t our fastest day, but we had made good strategic decisions, worked as a team and done the very best we could.
I’ve now got 6 weeks without a race. Time for me to get on top of this running and for us to both come back fighting in February!
Thanks to the organisers, Open Adventure, to photographer, James Kirby and to race sponsors, Haglöfs.
Bowhill short duathlon
My second last race of the year was back at Bowhill estate near Selkirk. My map says I have done a lot of riding down there recently! It’s quite a long drive for quite a short race, but Andy was coming with us for extra company and there was a really big club turnout.
When we got there Andy sprinted off to run round the course whilst Glen and I registered. I started getting psyched out by all the fast looking girls I didn’t recognise milling around. We also said “Hi” to clubmate Jo, who is a very fast girl I do recognise and who won all the series last year! Andy made disapproving noises later about my warm up, which consisted of a spin round near the car to check that everything was working (yes) and that my tyres were inflated enough (no).
Soon we lined up, run first. I was apprehensive as my hip is still not fully healed. This would be my first ‘effort’, and at the slight disapproval of my physiotherapist. I had assured him it was short, and it was. Just 19:28 minutes of running up a hill and back down again, and I came into transition 4th girl after swapping places with a girl called Kirsty all the way round, and being overtaken just before the end by another.
I could still see them just ahead though and was confident in my biking ability. Jo had long gone. I did a competent enough transition and was soon out on my bike blasting after the others. There were a few people to overtake – the fast runners who weren’t such good bikers. I like it this way round for that reason. It’s much more motivating to be catching people up than to be running in fear!
I worked hard on every hill, held my nerve on the singletrack and tried to target the next person in front. After 7 or 8 minutes I had passed the two girls in front and was pleased to have settled into a podium position. I think I was motivated knowing how many guys I knew were also riding and wondering how many of them I could beat on the bike leg! So I kept on sprinting, reminding myself it was shorter than a spin class so there should be no question of giving into my burning legs.
After a while I spied a clump of people up ahead, several of whom were wearing red. The thought crossed my mind that one of them could be Jo, but I wasn’t convinced. As I got closer, I saw my suspicion / hope had been right! I picked my moment and went past, just before we entered the section with the slippery bridge of doom. Andy fell here on his way round, despite the warnings! I took care and had to remind myself not to try too hard as my wheels slipped on some roots.
I pushed on, never looking back, and charged up the final sharp little hill. I dared to glance back in case it was coming down to a sprint finish, but I was on my own and elated! My first win at Bowhill. Jo came in second and did well considering she’d got some bug. Kirsty was 3rd. My times were all faster than last year (by 1m25s, 6s and 40s for run, transition and bike respectively) and I’ve never ridden so hard, though the conditions might have been better. Here are the full results.
Picked up some chocolates and beer, did plenty of chatting and it was time to head home. Andy and Glen discussed politics whilst I sat quietly in the back munching Ferrero Rochers. Happy times!
Many thanks to Andy Kirkland for the photos, except where credited to Susie Upton.
The Brutal Half
It’s been oh so quiet … Since Itera I have not been doing much. I learnt my lessons after the last expedition race I did (the Terrex in 2010) and this time I wasn’t getting back into anything too quickly. So I spent 3 whole weeks eating, sleeping, pottering to work on my bike and not much else.
When I did my event planning for the year, I thought perhaps I could combine Itera training with iron-distance triathlon training. So I kept my eye on an event near my dad’s house in Llanberis 5 weeks after Itera, which I could enter at the last minute providing I had recovered well and was feeling fit.
As it turns out, I did recover well, and managed a good strong week of training after my 3 weeks of recovery. But the event I had in mind (the Brutal) wasn’t just normal iron-distance; the run had large chunks off road and finished with a run up and down Snowdon with a buddy. To be honest, I didn’t have the motivation to race that hard for that long and face another few weeks of tiredness. I hadn’t done any specific training and was feeling pretty satisfied with the year from a ‘big race’ perspective. I was also starting to feel good again and had my eye on quite a few events for the rest of the year!
So instead I entered the ‘half’. Half the distance, half the laps (I’m not a big fan of laps), half the price and I could run Snowdon at the end by myself. I innocently thought I could just bash this one out, feel good for the rest of the weekend and carry on uninterrupted 🙂 .
On Friday we ended up walking down through the woods to town twice, once to register and once for the briefing and to set up kit in the transition marquee. I managed to get a lift back up the hill twice though, despite my dad’s poorly leg!
The first ‘brutal’ part of the event was the start time. I set off from my dad’s house to pedal down the hill at 05:25. Urgghh! It was still dark and the road was twisty and gravelly. I stayed safe though and had plenty of time to find a space to rack my bike (it was pick your own spot, I went for last rack, second frog from the end) and double check all was still as I left it in the tent. We each had our own chair – very unusual! But this event not only had people out doing the full distance, but also some doing double that again, and not finishing until late on Sunday. OK, I admit, as well as debating between full and half I did also consider the double … but sense got the better of me.
The lake wasn’t cold for the swim, about 16ºC. My main problem was not having worn a wetsuit since my last triathlon on 29th June and having done just three swim sessions since the end of July, 8 weeks before. My arms felt constricted and a bit heavy, but I got on with it. We were confused at the first turn by all the orange buoys – which one was ours?! I swam a bendy line but got back on track. Two laps later and just 2 minutes slower than I had planned I was running across the field into transition.
A quick changeover and I set off on the bike, with Andy cheering. About 200m later I was still feeling a bit weebly wobbly from the swim, was worrying about whether I should have tucked my jersey under my race belt and noticing I could see the lake on my right and thinking I might be able to glimpse long course swimmers. Next thing, I looked up to see I was heading towards the kerb at high speed. There was a wobble, I don’t know exactly what happened, but I knew I was going down. Smash! I catapulted head first onto the pavement. My immediate thought was ‘I’ve hit my head, I’ll have to stop’, immediately followed by things such as: Is my new jersey ripped? Are my shorts OK? I’ve dropped a bar. There’s blood. No broken bones. Lucky I wore gloves else my hand would be full of holes. I’m not unconscious. Is the bike working?
Pretty quickly I was astride my bike, tucking my jersey in (didn’t need that thought distracting me again) and cautiously pedalling along the course, away from transition. My tri bars were a bit askance, but usable. My arm hurt to rest on them, but was bearable. My elbow and knee were bleeding, but moving. There were no holes in my clothes. The brakes and gears were working. I carried on. The next 25 minutes were slightly hesitant. I ate and drank and monitored myself, especially when I saw a few stars. But then I decided, if I’m still doing this, I need to get on with it. I started to watch my speed and keep the power up.
Each lap had a flat bit, a short sharp up and down then a long ride along the beautiful valley from Waunfawr to Beddgelert. Then there followed a long steady climb. As my dad has told me, it was graded for a horse and carriage, so you can ride a lot of it on your tri bars in something other than your lowest gear. Over the top and it’s a fast, twisty descent back to the start. I had to do 2 laps.
At the start of the first long climb I had just caught another girl. I ate a bit and planned to ride past on the climb. But she pulled away!! I lost her somewhere over the descent, but she must have paused as she went round for lap 2, perhaps to pick up a bottle, because she popped out just in front of me again. I came past and opened a gap but then there were traffic lights on red. She caught up and went by on the hill. I decided to just work at my own pace along the valley and keep her in sight. Although the gap between us varied a bit, it was never more than about 100m.
I assumed she would go again on the climb, but I think she had worked harder knowing I was there this time and was perhaps a bit more tired. In fact, the results say we both went faster the second time around! I was holding the distance between us, and then somehow managed to catch her. We exchanged a few amicable words, then I passed and came into transition with a slender 1:20 lead.
The first part of the run was round the lake. It was flat on the first side, then up a steep road and into the woods, with variable gradients and surfaces. Andy jogged next to me for a couple of minutes, which was nice. I was in a lot of pain as I’d had stomach cramps since the end of the swim. Sometimes this happens and I don’t know why. It wasn’t because I’d eaten gels and bars either! I’d had two bananas, a big square of sticky rice cake, a porridge bite, a mouthful of a bread thing and water and Nuun (electrolyte solution). I could hardly stand upright but eventually it eased as I ran along the lake shore. As I slowed to go through a gate I realised I was quite dizzy … I had another porridge bite and then a bit later a gel. I was gasping for water but expected the feed station as we turned off the road.
The girl I had overtaken on the bike caught me up on the road hill. She was looking bouncy and I was dying! I know running is not my forte, so had expected to be caught given how well she climbed on a bike. I had no choice but to let her go. At the feed station I gulped 2 cups of water and 1 of squash and felt better. Running back to the transition field I was actually feeling OK!
To go up on the mountain, we had to carry compulsory kit and pass a medical check. As I ran in, I was asked ‘do you need to see the medic?’ I assumed this meant, ‘are you ready to go up the hill?’. I looked confused and said ‘but don’t I need to get my mountain bag first?’ (as this also got a quick check). Back came the reply ‘you’re bleeding!!’. Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. But the blood had mostly dried up by now and I was on a mission. I got my bag and went for my official check. The medic asked me more than once … are you sure you don’t want it treated? … But I said no, it had been like that for 4.5 hours already, it could wait a couple more. I was allowed to go!
On the lower slopes I was sweating profusely and very glad it was an overcast day. Andy appeared again for a bit and gave me some encouraging words. After he had gone, Kev (another racer) caught up with me and very kindly accompanied me to the top. He had done this event last year and could give me pointers on what was coming up and how fast to expect to do it. He also kept me motivated to move when I felt like stopping (as I didn’t want to slow him down) and checked I was alright in woozy moments. I felt a bit sick but also realised that tripping over my feet and the dizziness when I paused were due to lack of food, so I made myself eat some more.
We overtook crowds of tourists, including someone in a onesie. Really? There were cigarette butts on the floor, and Kev remarked he wasn’t sure if he was impressed or horrified. People kept asking me if I was alright and I kept thinking I must look dreadful, until I remembered the blood all over my leg. We didn’t run for long as it got pretty steep and my legs were tired. My calves were also threatening to cramp and I was extremely grateful that I had taken my poles with me! Given how I felt when I stopped using them to eat I definitely know they were helping.
Because you come back the same way you go up, you can see where everyone else is. After we saw the leading lady going down, it took us 6 minutes to get to the top. It was quite cold and wet, as the cloud and fog were heavy. I told Kev to go down at his own pace. I know my descending isn’t great. I wasn’t giving up though, as visions of being caught in the Coniston race played on my mind and Andy had told me off earlier and said not to settle for ‘third is OK’. 3 minutes after I’d turned, I saw the next lady going up. We said hello, and I wondered how much faster going down was than up!
Now I knew I had to go for it. This was one of my aims for the race. I wanted to remember how it felt running off the Brecon Beacons on a tow behind Sam at Itera. If I could do it then on day 5 with blisters, I could do it now for sure! Off I went and actually kept Kev in sight all the way. I passed the halfway house. I almost got calf cramp again, several times. I almost face-planted, but didn’t. I reached the road. Still only one person had come by.
I allowed myself to check over my shoulder and could see ‘someone’ about 200m behind. I was determined not to give in, and my poles click-clacked on the steep road. We reached the first row of houses and it was maybe only 300m to go. I nearly got cramp again! So I had to moderate my speed and try and work out how to land and pick up my foot not to set it off. Then there was the finish archway, and I was under and I was second. Yay!
Compared to my target times I had done alright. A couple of minutes down on the swim (due to lack of specific training), and a few more on the bike (due to crash, cramps, lack of ‘fast’ riding recently and fighting a bug the previous week, I think). My lake run lap was spot on target. My mountain run was much slower – but I had underestimated the difficulty! It didn’t stop me being proud of my descent and of holding my time compared to 3rd. Interestingly, my overall placing for the mountain was lower than for the rest of the race, but 10 minutes would have lifted my place for ‘Snowdon only’ by 16 spots. People’s times on this section were close together. My race against 1st was lost on the run, but my race against 3rd was won on the swim.
Now I only had the matter of getting up off the floor and seeing the medic. ‘Pouch’ did a fantastic job of checking for broken bones then patiently cleaning and bandaging my wounds before I hobbled home. The next day I could hardly move. This was a combination of all the bumps and bruises (road rash, holes and scratches on my left shin, knee, hip, arm and shoulder and right arm and elbow), stiff tummy muscles from the cramps on the bike and all the usual soreness from running up and down a big mountain! Never has getting dressed and standing up and down been so difficult. Lesson learnt: pay attention to where you’re going on a bike and don’t underestimate the difficulty of a 7.5h long event called ‘Brutal’, even if it is only ‘half’ of something! 😀
Many thanks to Brutal Events for putting on an event with such a great atmosphere. Also to Andy Kirkland for the photographs (click on the link for a gory knee close up shot)!
Itera 2014 Part 1: The prologue and Monday
So, the race I have targeted all year has been and gone. I am on a somewhat unpredictable road to recovery. It has taken a while to reflect on the race and let it all sink in. The story of 5 days / 114 hours of racing cannot be told in one report! Instead, you can look forward to reading about each day in instalments this week.
Getting There
The stress of getting to the start line seems so long ago now. After last minute purchases (duct tape, extra box covering, impulse need for trekking trousers etc) I was suddenly packed and ready to go. Jon picked me up on Friday morning and off we drove to Selkirk to meet up with Paul. Despite the detailed instructions we went round in circles a bit until we found his house – was this a sign?
Of course, by the time we had loaded the giant pick up truck with all our stuff and squeezed ourselves in, we were later starting than planned. Cardiff is a jolly long way away, and the journey was made even longer when we hit Friday rush hour holiday traffic on the motorway. Finally we got there and met up with Sam, our fourth team member. Plenty of time for team tentel to bond over a Chinese takeaway and box waterproofing.
The rest of the weekend went by in a blur, as we attended briefings, got kit ready, pored over the maps, laminated them, did the prologue and travelled up to Caernarfon.
Prologue
The prologue was a 10km run around Cardiff Bay, with a short white water section in the middle. In an expedition race, the usual standards of decorum (with respect to changing clothes and wee stops) are eventually thrown to the wind. I didn’t expect to do so this early in the event though. As we walked through the multi-storey car park, I realised that my shorts were on back to front. In the stairwell I hurriedly switched them over, with Sam falling about laughing and pointing at the CCTV camera. Look out for me on some candid camera show soon!
We took the run at a fairly sedate pace. Paul wouldn’t have it any other way! As we got to the white water section, the leading teams were exiting and shouting a lot, which looked a bit stressful. We had to go in pairs, one after the other. Paul and I went first. The plugs came out of the bottom of our barely-inflated boat, water spurted in and we started sinking! After we took evasive action we felt lucky to get round in the boat. By the end, we seemed to be sitting below water level and steering was nigh on impossible.
On the bus on the way to Caernarfon on Sunday, we watched videos of previous adventure races, which just made me stressed. Surely we’re not about to start something like that are we? They were supposed to be inspirational, but the story of two Aussie blokes who went to the South Pole and back unsupported was easier on the mind!
As we tucked ourselves in overnight at the Travelodge, the wind whipped up the waves in the Menai Straits. Sam and I were sharing a room and were chatting away, whilst I’m sure Jon and Paul were sound asleep next door. Eventually I said “I think we should go to sleep now”, to which the response came back “I’m trying to!”. This was the funniest thing I had heard all weekend, as I’m sure I wasn’t the only one initiating the chat 🙂 . So I enquired what she would try next to get to sleep, since the talking wasn’t working. Perhaps a spot of dancing?
Day 1 schematic
Stage 1: Paddle + bike (Caernarfon to Conwy)
The next day we had an early start. A last minute leader’s briefing brought news that because of the weather we might have a shortened paddle stage. There were a few options, but we were to get out at Bangor Pier and find out which it was to be then. We ran round the castle twice, waved to Jon’s parents (who must have had a very early start), then we were off to the beach.
All we had to do was fit our new seats to sit on top kayaks (the straps go where?!), attach our bags out of the way of our feet and launch! It was still quite choppy, but we had the tide behind us and were whizzing along. I am not normally a kayaker and throughout the race I was bemused by what was counted as a suitable ‘get out’ point. At the pier, we were directed to go past the nice sloping gangway, nose in by some steep jagged slippery rocks and try and haul the heavy kayaks up over them. I got a good dunking here as my foot slipped and I was into deep water!
We rode our bikes for the rest of what would have been a paddle stage to Conwy. I wasn’t sure if I was pleased about this or not – but was probably mostly pleased! After a section on Sustrans route 8 (which I had done in the other direction with Andy last year), we dived off onto a rather pleasant off road section. At the castle, it was hot and sunny as we ran round on top of the town walls and sought out controls hidden inside the castle. What a shame we were in a race and couldn’t stay to run up and down all the spiralling tower staircases! Our tracker wasn’t working, which was confusing people at home, so we swapped for a new one before beginning the first planned bike stage.
Stage 2: Bike + zip wire (Conwy to Ogwen)
We rode back a different way to the one we had come, passing very close but taking a hillier and more off road route. Sam admitted that our earlier pace was too much for her to maintain, so we experimented with her going on a tow behind me. I love biking and was feeling strong and perky, so actually quite enjoyed this. All the more so when she said what a difference it made to her.
The wind was blowing hard into our faces so we travelled quite slowly at some points. I hoped it wouldn’t stay like this all week! The problem with travelling in lines instead of circles is that you could face a headwind all the way ….
At Bethesda, Paul got a cramp (the team’s first and only all week), but it was perfectly timed just as we got to the zip wire centre. Here we had to serve a time out – the length of which was dictated by our speed in the prologue. We had 53 leisurely minutes to stock up from the fast food hatch (chips, egg roll or bacon rolls, depending on tastes). Throughout the race I think Sam and I carried far more water than the others, filling up from ‘official’ drinking water sources when we saw them. Jon and Paul went for streams and rivers, and Paul batted away my concerns that he had used taps specifically saying ‘not drinking water’. He didn’t seem to suffer any ill effects though! He must have a stomach of iron.
Just before we had to go again, my dad appeared! He had been watching our tracker and only lives just over the hill from where we were. It was lovely to see him even though we couldn’t stop and chat. We had to hike up to the top of an old quarry, where there was another (timed out) wait for the zip wire. People were already sleeping in the cramped space, but I was anxious to stay alert and not miss our spot in the queue! As a Frenchman got kitted out he commented “What is this helmet for? Is it for when I smash into the brick wall at the end?”. We all found this very funny!
Soon enough we were ourselves suspended face forward in a harness overlooking the quarry. It didn’t take long to get back to the bottom when we were going at 100mph, or thereabouts. What a buzz! Quick goodbyes to my dad who had patiently waited, and we pedalled up to Ogwen to say hello to Andy. Oops, no, he was marshalling and we had a job to get on with – time to pack up the bikes in their boxes and start walking!
Stage 3: Trek (Ogwen to Tan-y-bwlch)
We had already made the decision on Saturday that we would miss some of the controls on this trek and immediately become a ‘short course’ team. Due to the time outs, the wait at the zip wire and our general ‘steady’ speed, it was getting dusky already. Two of the controls had also been removed due to high winds, which meant the penalties for going the shorter route were less.
My map reading duties were on the bike. On the trek, Paul and Jon were in charge, so I hadn’t really appreciated what faced us. Despite going the short way, we still had a significant hill to climb! Halfway up it started raining so we donned coats and got our lights out. Paul’s didn’t work. “I tested them this morning”, he said. I asked: “And they worked then?” Duh – stupid question of the race! Luckily, spares were produced from somewhere and we continued on. The route was hard to pick out over the top, though Jon found it brilliantly. It was quite a sight to see the bright lights of other competitors dancing off Tryfan and the Glyders. At Pen-y-Gwryd whilst I munched on Babybels and oatcakes, we debated whether to head on down or go over Snowdon. We went down. In fact, we went short course for the whole of this leg.
We had a plan. Despite having to switch from the long course white bib to the short course black ‘bib of shame’, we hoped that we could change the moniker to ‘bib of cunning’. We didn’t want to be chasing cut offs and knew that controls later in the race held higher time penalties than those we were missing now. If we played the long game we would have more time and energy to get these controls in the second half of the race.
In retrospect, perhaps we could have been a little more ambitious on this stage, even just going for the two less committing controls with some extra climb near the end. As it was, we trotted down the road. Sam and I stared at the sky wondering if we could see dark clouds or dark sky. We were just discussing the important matter of how a certain cloud definitely looked like a poodle, when we saw the brightest of shooting stars! Amazing.
The maps marked a suggested ‘short route’, but unless otherwise specified these were not mandatory. We thought we were being smart by taking a minor road (‘A’ and ‘B’ class roads were out of bounds) and linking onto a good track via a short section of footpath. The footpath turned out to be very non-existent. In fact, its route traversed The Swamp of Doom. The further we went, the soggier it got. We tested the ground with our poles before committing the next step as we fanned out a bit. I stayed near Sam for moral support and combined safe route finding, though I’m not sure who was going to rescue who. We nearly lost her in a particularly deep wet patch! Just as my patience was wearing extremely thin, we got out of there and made rapid progress into the transition.
Here we had our first access to tents. It was still quite early in the race, but we knew we wouldn’t get them again until after the second big trek stage, in another 24h time. It was either sleep now, or sleep outside somewhere without a tent or warm sleeping bags. After a quick blog, we tucked ourselves up for 2h kip.
Howe Bridge Marlins Llyn Padarn swim championship
Andy and I had planned a birthday trip to my dad’s house in North Wales. He was complaining how he was missing out on races that were on at various times we’d be away. After a quick bit of internet searching, I found out that there was going to be an open water swim in the large lake right next to where we’d be with my dad!
There were just a few things to sort out, like the fact that the closing date for entries was only a few days away, and we had to apply by post, with cheques, SAEs and verification from a coach that we were up to the swim! Now, this was a BDLSA (British Long Distance Swimming Association) event. This meant that the rules were very different from those for triathlon. In fact, in some respects they were the complete opposite. Here are a few of the ones we had to take note of:
- NO wetsuits allowed!
- Strict rules on how much coverage your swimsuit was allowed to give (nothing on your legs, no top halves for the boys)
- Only one swim hat allowed, as provided by the organisers (and that turned out to be a thin latex one).
There was not a speck of neoprene in sight at the start and I heard one swimmer at the end of the 4 mile race declaring she couldn’t wait to get her hat off because it was so hot!
Andy and I had entered the 2 mile (3.2km) event. He was much more gung-ho about it than I was. We had 4 weeks to get used to swimming in cold open water without a wetsuit. I am sure I read somewhere that it is actually possible to acclimatise to a useful extent in this period of time.
I began with a 21 minute swim at Threipmuir reservoir in the Pentland Hills. I got out cold in the wind and rain. Next I managed 35 minutes in the sea at Mappleton Sands on the east coast of England, near Hull. This swim was notable for the swarms of invisible somethings that brushed our fingertips. At the time we had no idea what it was we could feel, and the visibility in the water was zero. Imagine my horror when I peeled down my swimming costume to see I had acquired a collection of marble-sized jellies inside! Luckily a post to the OSS facebook page soon revealed their identity as sea gooseberries, also known as comb jellies. Completely harmless to humans.
Next up I lasted 40 minutes in Threipmuir and sunshine. Then it was off to swim with The Wild Ones at Portobello beach. They told me it was 16 degrees, but I think it was nearer 14. I got ice cream head and it took me two attempts to properly get started. We swam with a few jellyfish for 30 minutes, by which time I was purple-lipped, had white hands, couldn’t speak normally and was shaking violently …. moderate hypothermia (and not for the first time)?!
An hour later I was back to normal after putting on excessive layers of clothing for a sunny day at the beach, drinking tea and eating an egg roll with the gang before cycling home.
I was then back at Threipmuir. I was determined to stay in as long as possible. I was feeling a bit cold after just 20 minutes but stuck at it for an hour and it didn’t get any worse. This was a mental game! It was just over 18 degrees and although cold, I wasn’t too bad when I got out. I was more worried about the fact that it seemed to be taking me a good 2 mins to swim each 100m if estimates of the marked course were right, which is much slower than in the pool or in a wetsuit.
Last proper swim was at Ullswater with Marie after our mini mountain marathon. I attached a gps watch to my goggle strap and off we went. The water was ‘really warm’ and we easily did an hour without feeling cold. But the gps does not lie and we had only covered 2.8km.
The day before the race we were already in Wales and thought we’d test the lake out for 20 minutes. It was lovely, but I was shivering when I got out! Andy seemed totally unperturbed though.
On race morning it wasn’t as scorching hot as it had been the previous few days. It was still a nice summer’s day by British standards though. Registration was the most simple process ever; tick your name off a list, get your number written on your shoulders and hands, and you’re good to go! The atmosphere was friendly and welcoming. Quite a few people chatted with us as we waited for the start and watched some of the shorter ‘try it out’ races. Soon it was our turn. We had a roll call as we got in at a little bay which was slatey underfoot. We had a one mile loop marked out and the 1, 2 and 4 mile swimmers all set off at once.
It was a very civilised start, with a much smaller group than in a triathlon, and less thrashing around and aggressiveness. I was going fast and got into a second group of swimmers that formed on the way up to the first buoy. This is where we turned to go across the lake. It was easy to spot where we were going as the marker on the other side was lined up with a distinct change in vegetation. At the next turn, we had a very long leg diagonally back across to the end of the lake near the start. I had no idea where we were going, but found someone good to draft until we reached a weather station halfway over. From there, I could see the orange buoy we were aiming for.
One of the things I had done in practice was trying to get used to a more regular and frequent sighting pattern and this helped on the day. I may too often guilty of swimming in crooked lines – which is just extra distance for the sake of it!
After the third buoy we turned back towards the start / finish. I just lost contact with 3 other swimmers I’d been near at this point. I think I was slightly distracted by looking for my dad on the shore (didn’t see him), trying to wiggle a sudden cramp out of my toes (successfully), figuring who I had to shout my number to for lap counting as we went past (got there eventually) and dealing with a totally numb finger on one hand. I tried clenching and unclenching my fist as my arm cleared the water, but it was making no difference. In the end I just swam with it, even when my thumb joined the numb party!
So as I got back to concentrating properly, we were heading across the lake again. Nice and easy to sight. Then we rounded the buoy and seemed as if the three swimmers disappeared in subtly different directions in front of me, the kayakers were nowhere in my sight line and I had no idea what to aim for! I panicked slightly and paused a couple of times to try and see anything. It is strange how your mind makes you scared in these situations. I couldn’t really go far wrong but I suddenly felt all alone in the middle of a vast expanse of water with no points of reference!
Once I got over being silly, I picked something white that seemed to be in roughly the right direction. As it got closer I was delighted to find it was the weather station! Brilliant. Now I started racing hard to the buoy at the end of the lake, trying to catch one or two people. Round we went and sprint finish for the end. I didn’t quite get them but was delighted to have completed in 53:51 with almost exactly equal lap times. If the course was accurate, this was 1:41 per 100m and the extra speed and a toasty lake (18-19 degrees C) meant there wasn’t even a little shiver on me when I got out.
The field was much smaller than normal, which I am sure helped me get 2nd placed lady in the 2 mile freestyle race. What a great day! In another life this type of race might have been my speciality, but I grew up in Birmingham at a time when open water swimming wasn’t as popular as it is now. My mum did make enquiries for me, but there were no clubs or venues near us to do it. I left the race buzzing and thinking I should look out a few more of these events in the future!
This race was a great way to distract me from worrying about Itera, an expedition race I’m doing for 5 days from the 11th August. You can find out more about it here, or like our facebook page here to follow how we’re getting on.
Dark & White Mini Mountain Marathon
With Itera looming, I was feeling like I hadn’t been out in the hills on foot enough. At first this race was penciled in to do with teammate Paul, but he was otherwise occupied being ‘official’ at the Commonwealth Games. I called a friend, who said yes! I was all set for 4 hours of running off road, whilst navigating to controls to maximise our score.
So Marie (this year’s super speedy Celtman champ) and I headed down to the Lake District on a Friday night in her van. We parked up just along the road from the start and after talking half the night away it was time to snuggle down in the back. Luxurious accommodation for me compared to a tent. We had set an early alarm as there was a suggestion that it would stay dry until later in the day. However, when we woke up the rain was pounding on the roof. I wasn’t keen on a pointless early start, so we promptly went back to sleep for another half an hour!
I was slightly anxious. I haven’t done a run-only event like this before, and we were going to be using a Harveys map, which I’m unfamiliar with. At the hall we asked plenty of daft questions about what various symbols meant before we decided to bite the bullet and get going.
We started off straight up a impossibly steep hill which made my calves scream. Marie was happy as she was bilberry hunting on the way up. We passed many sheep tracks, all going the wrong way. After gaining the ridge we briefly enjoyed a run along a path before diving back off the hill and finding a way through the head high ferns. We were convinced that here and there ‘we were following a path’, or that ‘someone else had definitely been this way’ … but these could have been figments of our over-active imaginations!
The pattern was set for the rest of the day as we (successfully) contoured round trackless terrain and went up and over ridges. We pondered whether the sheep would show us the way, how a guide dog might lead us to controls, that the skull in the grass was a sign (of what, I’m still not sure) and how we could do with a bionic extending arm to reach out and dib from afar. As we ran round a cliff top my foot slipped and a gasp from Marie made me look to my right – to see a vertiginous drop! As I concentrated on route finding, Marie concentrated on making up a song about slidy rocks.
Past a stinking dead sheep we thought we might be sick. Unfortunately, this was the only out-and-back we did, so ‘nose nav’ was called into play as the mists came down on the way back. The second last control was an easy one on top of a hill. All we had to do was follow a bearing and run out along ‘The Tongue’. This was where we made our only serious navigational mistake. It was really foggy (not for the first time that day) and as we ran, it didn’t feel right. We tried to correct, but I couldn’t match the small patch of ground we could see to the map. A fortuitous combination of a family materialising from the mists and telling us that we were indeed where we thought we might be, and the clouds parting for a second to reveal a ridge got us back on track.

The last bearing we took, so I could check it was right! It was, but our track (map above) shows us veering off further north.
We discovered what one of the funny map symbols meant (peat hags), nabbed the last control and made for the finish. Only a steep downhill bum slide and more ferns to stop us! By avoiding the temptation of going up Blencathra (just because it looked fun), we had timed it perfectly. But we had not timed for our late mistake. We ended up sprinting for the end, trying to keep ourselves less than 10 minutes late, which would mean losing a LOT of points! We nearly took out someone photographing with a phone that we thought was the dibber box! We made it with just seconds to spare.
Looking at the results and checking with some wizened fell runner types in the hall afterwards, it transpired we had not taken the popular route. My plan to do the hard stuff first had back fired slightly, as we only did hard stuff and ran out of time for the easier parts. Everyone else ran around the slightly less steep northern side of the map, where apparently the ground was ‘very runnable’. Oops!
Never mind, we had a whole load of fun. It rained but we weren’t cold and it was great to be out in the hills feeling mildly competent about accurate navigation, even if our strategy left something to be desired 🙂 .
After the run we filled up on delicious pea and mint soup, hunks of bread, tea and cake. The organisers were really friendly and it was a good race. We topped off the day by heading to Ullswater for a gorgeous 1 hour swim before heading back up the road.
I’ll be doing the Itera expedition race in a team with three other people from the 9th August. If you want to read a bit about us and keep up to date with our progress, you can ‘like’ our facebook page here.
A Day in the Lakes
A month ago I raced the Coniston Old Man triathlon and did not have a good time. When an adventure race I was supposed to be doing a month later was cancelled, I looked again at a Day in the Lakes. On the surface, it is a similar race; middle distance, hilly bike, fell run and in the Lake District. However, this one seemed to be more suited to my strengths. Hills, yes, but not so steep I might fall off or over going up or down them!
It was also easier to get to. After a mere 10km pedal from Penrith train station, I was at the campsite sorting my kit and waiting for Andy with the tent. Although we had a relaxed evening in the company of Andy’s pal Ollie, by race morning my usual nerves had kicked in.
The swim buoys were 500m apart and difficult to see, even though they were huge and yellow! I think this is becoming a common theme for me. I just followed everyone else. I tried to start aggressively, and it was working. That is, until my eye was bashed, my goggle filled with water and I had to sort of edge my way to the side of the pack to empty it. Other than that, the swim was more or less uneventful. I think a few people cut a corner at the top; they probably just missed seeing the marker as there were two close together there. I also tried to land on the wrong bit of beach, but then was out and running to transition. I hadn’t felt bad, but was further down the pack than I expected.
Out on the bike I was feeling strong. Yippee! What a change from four weeks ago. I climbed the first hill without any problems, alternating between standing and sitting to vary my position – at least I had a choice this time. There had been a crash on the descent, which looked nasty but we were told later that the rider was OK. It made me a little more cautious, and soon a girl I had caught on the climb flew past. When I got back up to her again we exchanged a few words and swapped places once or twice more.
On the way up the second big hill, I met Mr Pink Socks from C.O.L.T. (these guys seem to get everywhere). In general, this race had been pretty good with regards to drafting. But at this point we could see two guys working together up front! We both agreed that if we caught them we’d have words, but it was impossible to get close.
I didn’t think I knew this course at all, but when I studied the map the night before I realised it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. I had been over Kirkstone Pass in a car a few years ago, although all I can remember is having to make the driver stop so I could ‘get some fresh air’. Andy and I had ridden a few km of the middle section on a weekend visit earlier this year. And on my way to the Coniston race, we drove over the A6 and I had remarked what a fantastic road it would be to cycle. It was here I now found myself, on my own and riding into a headwind on a long, long descent.
Soon after, I was caught by a couple of people. I was in the awkward situation of yo-yoing with one of them, but I always dropped back when I was overtaken. In an attempt to get past and away I put in a hard effort, but I could see someone out of the corner of my eye sitting on my wheel. I wanted to say ‘are you going to pass, or drop back?’, but for some reason I didn’t. In these events, drafting is not only against the rules but also gives considerable gain. For all my ranting, I find it hard to address the issue mid-race. I had caught and passed Pink Socks again so he was behind me at this point. He told me later that my passenger had sometimes been freewheeling in my slipstream!
In the end, I slowed and let them go. I wanted to ride my own race but not kill my legs before the run trying to prove a point. I chatted to a very successful athlete once who had this attitude: ‘They can draft, but I don’t do it. I ride hard at the front and still beat them’. This is the kind of unruffled approach that I aspire to. Then I just need the strength and speed to execute it 😀 .
Anyway, back to the race. I was very pleased with how my legs had felt on the bike and it was fantastic riding through the campsite into transition. There were loads of people cheering, including an expected shout from my friend Lucy!
As I started the run, I saw about 5 girls also just finishing the bike. I haven’t really worked on my ‘brick sessions’ (practicing that awkward bike / run transition that legs dislike so much) and we were soon heading upwards. I stuck at it, glad that I was also carrying some water in my new running belt.
It took 45 minutes for a girl to catch me, and she was moving well. After the drinks station the second hill began and it was a tough one! Beautiful, but steep and hot. Everyone was reduced to walking. I kept drinking and took the opportunity to eat a couple of snacks, and get some cold stream water over my head. On the descent, Pink Socks came past again! We exchanged names this time, so I knew I was racing with Andy. Back past the drinks station and we faced 5.5km on an undulating road. To me, this was torture. I had an idea how long it would take, but couldn’t find the oomph to close the gap to Andy, even after a sneaky emergency gel.
We passed a few campsites that weren’t ‘ours’ and as another one came into view I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. But this time we were nearly there and I stuck at it. It was more like maintaining my pace than a sprint finish, but compared to Coniston, it was a very definite RUN!
I was tired at the finish, but very happy. I had achieved my goal, which was to race well and feel fit. Although I only came 6th, I was still satisfied. There was strong competition, including athletes with international experience and medals. I had an average swim but a good bike. As usual, my run was relatively slow and I lost time, but I only conceded one place. I really enjoyed this race and it was very well organised. I think it could be one I’ll revisit in the future!
All that remained was to pack up and get back to Penrith. This was quite a trial, as much for (my) Andy as for me. He had decided to do the run course just for fun and was feeling weary! Within 5 minutes of getting on the train I was fast asleep 🙂 .
Selkirk mountain bike weekend: Part 2 = SMBO 3h score orienteering
After 6 hours of hilly, off road riding on Saturday, I woke up from a good sleep on Sunday morning. The sun was shining and I was ready for more!
What I had in store was a 3 hour MTB score orienteering event. As I had been ‘staying with the organisers’ I knew they had worked hard to make sure the control checkpoints were accurately placed and marked on the map, and they had done a lot of pre-riding. I was looking forward to a good event.
I was joining forces with Jon, who is one of my teammates for the 5 day expedition race in August, called Itera. We haven’t raced together for 3 years though we’ve shared a few long car journeys since then! The map was printed on A3 paper, which is quite large and means you need to refold once or twice during the race. This was because it was on a 1:25k scale. This is a bit unusual for MTB events, but definitely necessary for navigating the intricate maze of tracks on the Bowhill estate.
As usual (for me), we set off at the latest possible time. 200m later we made a slight mistake, but hoped that would be our only navigation error for the day! It was soon righted, and we find ourselves riding along a fun trail through the trees alongside the river. The controls came quickly enough as we skirted round the edge of Bowhill, picking out a route that was easiest to follow.
My legs were complaining a bit from the day before, and I gratefully tucked in behind Jon as we rode into a headwind. I knew I could carry on like this if we didn’t go any faster, of if my legs didn’t get any worse, but I was slightly worried I might not keep up 🙂 .
After about an hour, we paused to consider our options. Time was passing faster than we had hoped and it was quickly becoming obvious we wouldn’t be able to get everything. In the end we stuck to the plan, looping round to the back of a big hill with controls worth lots of points at the top. Our alternative route still had all the climb in it, so it seemed best to carry on via the most number of controls.
In retrospect, this took a bit longer than expected, but was definitely worth it for the views! Up by a gigantic cairn, we could see for miles and miles all around. The route up had all been entirely rideable and was quite rewarding. From there, we passed a milestone with a control attached to it and started a fabulous fast descent back to the forest. We got straight to the highest scoring control of the day, in a small quarry in the middle of all the criss-crossing tracks. Getting out was a little bit trickier, but we escaped without incident!
As we turned onto a minor road, we realised we had only half an hour left and were heading in the wrong direction for home. An about-turn saw us considerably shorten the route, dropping more 25-point controls than we really wanted to. My legs got a new lease of life as well – and suddenly it was Jon who was working hard to keep up instead of the other way around! Unfortunately, the final kilometre along the Borders Abbeys Way was not nice easy double track as suggested by the map. Instead, it was grassy, slidy, bumpy and punctuated with numerous stiles. Progress was much too slow! We skidded back to the finish nearly 9 minutes late.
It was enough to win the mixed pairs, but only just! Marc and Ewan planned a very good event, with some challenging decisions to make about where to go, great riding (and not just a repeat of yesterday’s routes) and awesome homemade cake to finish off with. I was happy 😀 .



















































