I can’t believe that this is my first blog post since
November of last year, so much has happened since then! The biggest of which is
heading over to the UK for a university exchange semester which I’ll write
about after the incredible 6 months is over. As for now though it’s time for
another race report on my first race for this year, as well as a little bit on
an island that I fell in love with. If you only want to read about the island,
skip ahead!
The Race
I suppose I probably should begin with the circumstances
surrounding why I wasn’t able to finish to finish the race. 1.5 weeks before
the race I went out on a training run to practice going downhill, as the Manx
Mountain Marathon (MMM) has some seriously steep downhill sections. The idea of
that training run was to give me a bit of a confidence boost heading into the
race, unfortunately I placed my foot wrong and for the second time since the
Blackall 50 last year, I sprained my left ankle. As soon as I did it I knew it
was bad, but not as bad as last time. As soon as I hobbled the 3km back to my
room I did the RICE principle and hoped for the best. 3 days post-sprain I was
able to ride a bike, 5 days post-sprain I was able to walk without limping, 7
days post-sprain I went on a reccie run with another Aussie, Troy (my first
proper run since injury) on a part of the course (thanks Troy for taking me out
there!) On the road sections my ankle was fine but as soon as we went onto the
fells (hills) doubts started entering my mind as to whether I would be able to
finish the race. We went over South Barrule which didn’t have a defined trail
going up it and the trail going back down on the other side was quite rocky.
Even with taking it really slow and easy, by the time we finished my ankle was
in pain. Yeah, not good considering the race was in 3 days time.
(This was typical of the heather that we had to run across)
So, for the next 48 hours I tried to not walk on it more
than necessary, then the afternoon prior to race morning I went for an hour-long
hike to see a bit more of the island and to see how my ankle was doing. On the
flat and on the climbs the ankle was fine, but on the downhills it hurt a bit.
It was better than a couple days earlier but not as good as I hoped. After I
got back I strapped up my ankle as tight as possible, got my gear ready
(including poles to help with stability on descents), went to bed early and
wished that when I woke up at the stupidly early time of 5:30 everything would
be all good and I’d have a great race.
Before I dive into what happened during my race I want to describe
the course and what fell running is compared to trail running back home. The
similarities between the two is that they’re both off-road running and go up
and down hills. However, during trail running events you have to follow a
specific course which are often marked with flags and arrows etc. but with this
fell race there wasn’t a specific course per se, just 12 hills that you needed
to go to (check out the link here if you want to see the course and if you want extra context to the hill names)
The course was about 50km in length and featured around 2500 m in climbing |
You had to go to each hill in a specific order but how you went up and down and between them was up to each individual runner. Sometimes there was a trail, other times there was just open heather but 98% of the course isn’t marked, so either you’re a local who’s reccied the course and knows exactly where you’re going, you’re a runner who’s following someone else and hopes they know where they’re going, or you’re navigating using a map and compass.
When you get to the top of each major hill you have to punch a hole in this so the race organisers know you didn't cut the course |
Apart
from going over South Barrule, hiking to the top of Beinn Y Phott when it was a
really clear day and being able to almost see the entire course, driving along
the road following the southern part of the course and discussing the race
route with Jan who’s done the race many times previously, I didn’t really have
a clue as to where I was going. Apart from the Alpine Challenge (which had
pretty much all the critical turning points marked anyway) all the races I’ve
done previously required no navigation at all. You just follow the flags.
Luckily, I knew how to use a map and compass, but with close to 100 runners
starting my main plan was to follow the person in front of me and hoped they
knew where they were going.
Anyways, race morning rolled around and we went to the start
line at Ramsey on the North East part of the island and it was cold! The
weather forecast said it felt like 0 Celsius with the wind chill, and this was
at sea level, it would be colder once we got up on the hills. I had to make a
choice on what to wear as I hadn’t ever raced in temperatures this cold before.
Do I rug up as warm as possible or wear less banking on the fact that during the
race I would warm up? In the end I kind of compromised, I decided on shorts and
a merino baselayer top with my waterproof jacket, gloves and a buff. We also
had to carry waterproof pants so I figured if I got really cold I could stop
and put those on if necessary.
One of the key foundations of fell running I think after
reading a book called, “Feet in the Clouds” and talking to a few fell runners
is its sense community/grass roots and disregard for pomp and I reckon the
start really showed this. There was no big inflatable arch that everyone ran
through, no starters gun or even a megaphone but instead just a person wearing
a high-vis vest counting down from 3 and blowing a whistle, and we were off!
The first 1.5km were on road and I knew that the small road sections were going
to be the only places I could push hard without fear of going over on my ankle,
so my first km was fast and I was even able to keep up with the leaders! As
soon as we went got onto the trails it was time to go up and up and up. Unfortunately,
while the first part of the climb was on a well-defined path in the cover of
trees, it was super rocky so pretty much from the word go I had to slow to a
crawl. The good news is that my ankle wasn’t hurting yet. Yay! Shortly after
the rocky section and about 3km’s in we were well and truly above the tree line
and in full exposure of the elements. There was still a well-defined single
track to follow up the first hill but it was stupidly wet and muddy, and my
Akashas seriously struggled to get any grip. However, because it was less rocky
I was able to go a little faster and even managed to over-take a couple people
by the time I reached the top of North Barrule! The conditions once I reached
the top though, were brutal. Cloud blanketed everything making it impossible to
see more than 30 metres ahead of you and the wind was so strong that it was
threatening to blow the poles I was using off the mountain top. I think the
weather forecast said that it was blowing about 50km/h or close to it. Anyways,
it was nuts and I certainly hadn’t experienced anything like it. The only good
news was that it was on our backs, which according to local runners doesn’t
happen very often, usually the wind blows as a headwind. Once we reached the
top it was then time to follow a ridgeline and descend for the next 5km until
we reached a road before the next climb. During this section I fell over twice
as my shoes didn’t have enough grip on the muddy trail we were following. Each
time I fell my confidence took a bit of a hit, making me go a bit slower. And
while I didn’t fall over because of my ankle in this instance, it seemed to
make it flair up and from this point onwards my ankle started to hurt, however
it wasn’t bad and I was able to ignore it.
The face you make when you're concentrating on not falling over |
Once we reached the road it was time to climb up the highest
mountain on the island, Snaefell and the cloud was really, really bad. I could
barely see the two hands in front of my face when I reached the summit. Once I
dropped back down the other side and through the cloud I saw something really
cool; runners everywhere. There was one main path (which I took) to go down but
there is no obligation to take it and I saw runners all over the place taking
what they thought was the quickest way down. I’ve never seen that before, in a
race in Australia this would be impossible due to the large vegetation lining
the hill side and there would be one trail that everyone would have to follow
as its part of the course. On the side of this hill there was only low-lying
heather blocking a runner’s path, which to a seasoned fell-runner is child’s
play to go over. As for me? Well, not so much. At around km 15 we had to go
down Carraghan, which was the steepest descent so far in the race and according
to Strava had a gradient of 30%. And there was no trail to follow, the only way
down was to go over heather. Slippery, ankle-breaking, heather. You see, the
heather covered the entire ground so it covered up little holes and divots, and
of course the plant itself is uneven so every time I put my foot down it landed
on a different angle. Not good when you have an ankle that’s injured. I slowed
right down to a slow walk and it wasn’t fun concentrating to the best of my
abilities just so I didn’t sprain my ankle again. From the top to the bottom I
lost count how many times my ankle slightly rolled over, and they all added up.
The only thing that saved me from massively rolling my ankle were my poles and
the strapping, but it still wasn’t enough. By the time I got to the flat my
ankle was seriously hurting and I think it was at this point that I made up my
mind that I wouldn’t get to the finish. However, I wasn’t ready to quit yet, I
knew I had another big climb ahead of me and I was hoping for that my ankle
might get a little better by the time I reached the top. But deep down I didn’t
think it would as I knew the climb was going to be through heather and not on a
trail. I was lucky that by this point another runner had joined me because I
had no clue where the summit of Colden was. It’s hard to describe but in front
of me was this giant hill with thigh height heather covering it and if I didn’t
go the correct way up I would miss the flag with the dibber and go off course.
Following the runner (who did know where he was going) I eventually made it to
the top and for me it was the toughest climb yet. Partially because of my
ankle, and partially because every step I took I had to lift my legs stupidly
high so I could go over the heather. After reaching the top of Colden it was
time to face the full force of the wind again and follow a path along a
ridgeline to Slieau Ruy, where we, yet again, had to go back down the side of a
hill when there wasn’t a trail to follow, just a couple flags that were put
down so we could find our way to a gate. What was even better was that the
route down went through spiky gorse as well as over heather. So here I was in
shorts, timidly making my down so I didn’t sprain my ankle and also getting cut
up at the same time. Am I complaining and does this make me sound like a
pampered princess, rather than a toughened outdoorsmen? Yes. It was not fun. I
only wish I could’ve run down the hill like all the people that passed me.
Instead, I took every step like there was a landmine underneath me, slow and
cautious and it frustrated the absolute akjgadjbnsfb. Grrrr! Even writing about
3 days later I can’t put into words how shit it was. I’m a runner goddamn it! I
don’t want to walk down a hill. I know when doing an ultra you hit times when
your mind and body gives up and you’re meant to push through it but on this
occasion, I gave up. I wasn’t having fun, I wasn’t able to enjoy the stunning
views over the rolling hills, my ankle hurt, I was scratched up from the gorse.
And I was only half-way. I. Was. Done. However, I think I could’ve maybe, potentially
pushed through that as I knew that the most scenic part of the course when we
run by cliffs on the oceanside was coming up, but with a trip to the Lakes
District 4 days after the race I didn’t want to risk doing any more damage to
my ankle. So, at the Greeba marshal-point at the 25th km, 3 hours 35
mins later, I officially dropped out.
At this point in time it was only 11.30am, so I went from
being runner to supporter and went around the rest of the course with Gordy,
who was crewing for his wife. It was amazing being able to see everyone doing their
best and it was great being able to cheer people on from the sidelines!
As this was my first fell race I definitely learned a few
things.
- Poles don’t help. While they did allow me to go downhill without spraining my ankle, the hills are too short (longest climb was 5km) to be of any major help. And they get in the way when trying to a grab a small plastic hole punch at the top of the hill.
- If it’s cold at the start it’s even colder when you’re 600 metres in the air exposed to the elements. Next time I won’t wear shorts.
- And on the topic of being cold, it turns out it’s really hard to drink 500mL an hour so I could consume 250 calories an hour of sports drink. Next time I’ll make it so it’s more concentrated.
- DON’T DO A TRAINING RUN WHERE THE RISK OF INJURY IS HIGH WITHIN 2 WEEKS PRIOR TO A MAJOR RACE!
The Isle of Man
and why you need to go
The people.
They’re some of the nicest and most hospitable going around!
A few weeks before the race I put a Facebook post in the Manx Fell Runners
group (if you’re from Australia you call yourself Australian, if you’re from
the Isle of Man you call yourself Manx) asking if anyone had a spare bed or
couch I could sleep on for the race and Chris and Jan offered to put me up for
5 days, which was amazing! Jan had run the course 4 times prior to this year
and gave me as much advice as I could’ve wanted to do the course to the best of
my abilities, and they gave me some great ideas on what to see and do on the
island, along with so much more. As before-mentioned I also went around the
course with Gordy, who I hadn’t met before arriving into the checkpoint and along
with offering me a spare seat he also offered me some food which, to a hungry
runner, was the best thing in the world! It was also super easy to strike up a
conversation with random strangers, which I did multiple times throughout my stay.
The outdoors
If you like the outdoors in any-way then the Isle of Man is
the place for you. Hiking (or running) along stunning hills and jaw-dropping
coastline? ✅ Mountain biking? ✅ Road cycling? ✅ Driving really fast on mountain
roads that have no speed limit (I mean the island does host the TT every year) ✅
Scuba diving? ✅
Name me an activity that involves being outside and I can almost guarantee
you it can be done on the Isle of Man.
Amazing views of the hills |
And the ocean |
History
The Isle of Man has bucket loads of it. From vintage steam
trains along the coast, horse drawn trams along Douglas harbour, the oldest continuous
parliament on the planet (and the first place to give women the vote), hundred-year-old
electric trams going up the hill side, medieval castles and smuggling, the Isle
of Man has a super interesting past that is begging to be explored.
Food and drink
The island has multiple breweries, a gin distillery, produces
its own honey, milk and cream, along with high quality meats. So if you like
high quality, locally produced, delicious food and drink the Isle of Man is for
you!
The Trail Running Novice