The Holme Moss Fell Race   30th July 2000
16 miles   4000ft climb

This was a race I'd wanted to do for a couple of years but hadn't been able to do it because of injury.  I was injury free this time apart from a blister so I was certainly going to have a go this year  -  who knows what sort of shape I'd be in next year and anyway,  I had got two races under my belt (can you believe this ? -  fell runners mentality ! ! !) done in the previous week,  since getting back from injury.    I arrived late because I couldn't find the in-car lever to release the bonnet catch to check the oil level  (new car)  and because I thought the race start was just down from the transmitter whereas you have to travel to Holmbridge and back again to get to the start at  Brown Hill Reservoir.   

Parking the car and registration was a bit hurried and before I'd started putting on my walshes, he was shouting "Five minutes please,  five minutes".   Trying not to panic,  I finished tying my laces and thought   so what's it going to be ?   -  the race number or the sun block.   It was a very hot day and I decided to opt for the sun block but then thought I might have to carry the number with me for checkpoints and that if I put the sun block on,  I never would be able to put the number on because of greasy fingers being unable to grip the safety pins.   I'd wanted to do this race for a couple of years ! !    Simultaneously taking a grip of myself and a couple of pins I pinned the number and then squeezed a goodly amount of sun block onto my hands and slapped it over my face whilst running to the start some 300 metres down the lane.

I'd just settled down at the start and we were off, off on the long climb up to  the car park opposite the Holme Moss transmitter.   Before long I found myself running alongside the lad  who'd followed me up the last climb in the Goyt's Moss the previous Wednesday and soon after we were passed by the Natalie White who won the  ladies outright as well as  the under 18's in the Turnslack.   Sweating heavily, I reached the edge leading to the car park by the transmitter and since I'd  wanted a drink right from the start, by the time I got to the drink station,  I was absolutely parched to say the least.    Drinking three glasses of water I set off down the steep clough to the stream and then up again onto the moor leading to Crowden.   I was feeling good, running well but was surprised to find that a runner I'd left a good way  behind after the last climb, had caught  up and was putting pressure on whilst running on the narrow path off the moor down to the quarry track.   This wasn't welcome but I felt I must keep going,  keep him behind me until the climb up Bareholme Moss where I could probably lose him again.   This wasn't sensibly  possible and he passed me at the top of the final steep rocky stairway down to Crowden.  The first to pass me since the initial climb.   

Approaching the drink station, I was surprised and delighted  to see a small party of Glossopdaler's cheering me on and suggesting that I might like to take a drink.   A couple of glasses later  I was on my way to the climb up Bareholme Moss.   I passed two or three runners before slowing to a walk up a particularly steep section but worse was to come in the form of a field of tussock grass.   I've experienced  tussock grass many times before, we all have,  but not like this and not on a climb like this.   Whether or not it was the result of the alternating hot/wet weather or simply because it had not been grazed, this grass was almost up to my waist, the tops of the tussocks were  knee high and it all meant very hard work.  Slow, faltering progress was made with a tendency to zig zag trying to find the best route but, since the bottom of the tussocks couldn't been seen, it was all guesswork and one way was as good as another.    All this was made worse by it  being particularly hot and after stumbling a good few times and muttering more than an oath or two,  I eventually reached a wire fence and soon after the edge.    Glad was I to be here but, on starting to run,  found that my left leg was working properly in that I couldn't lift it as high without getting a slight pain on the inside - nothing to worry about  but it was going to slow me a little and soon after I was passed by a couple of runners.

After a long,  steepish descent of a grass bank embedded with boulders,  I looked up from what I was doing to suddenly see,  just in time, a sheer drop of about twenty feet down to the stream and deftly veered to the left to take a more leisurely route down to the watercourse.    The scramble up Laddow Rocks followed,  which,  whilst labourious, wasn't too bad and  very welcome drinks of water  were  quickly swallowed at the top.    At this point I was content to admire the views,  they were fantastic,  it was a beautiful day,  quite clear and I thought what a pity to have to run on.    This I did, but noticed straightaway that my legs  felt a bit wooden and wouldn't move as swiftly as I would have liked.    Thinking that they would sooner or later  get back into running mode after the scramble up to Laddow,  I jogged on.   This wasn't the case and as the path wore on,  negotiating obstacles became more problematic as legs began to feel tired.    I was pleased when I arrived at the flagged path,  at the foot of Black Hill,   at the thought of no more obstacles  but  soon  realized I would have to be content with doing no more than jog for the rest of the race. 

Getting up Black Hill, whilst only a gradual climb, was very much a slog and I'd pretty well had it by the time I reached the trig point.   Senses had been dulled by now and I didn't feel any feel anything at all about being there,  the highest point of the race.    I'd been passed by a couple of runners on the way up but  when I'd  stopped about half way  to drink some water,   I couldn't see anybody behind me.   I thought that initially,  getting off this hill would present  difficulties in the form of wet channels and banks of peat  but thought that once I got going on the flatish expanse of moor down to the transmitter,  I would make some progress.    As it turned out, the channels and banks weren't so bad but when I got to the moor,  I was pretty well knackered and progress was steady, very steady and I wasn't in the mood for rushing anything at all.  I could see the cars and vans at the drink station by the transmitter and after looking a time or two and  not getting any nearer,  I decided not to look again but couldn't help doing so in the hope of being pleasantly surprised.  I wasn't and it took a long time to get there but it was soft going though and some relief to my joints.

Approaching the drink station I was overtaken by a young lady and then Tim Snape appeared from nowhere it seemed.   We had a drink of water and set off on the short stretch of road to the car park and the steep bank down to the reservoir track.   Tim still had some running in him and soon left me behind on the bank with jellied legs to be overtaken by about half a  dozen other runners before reaching the reservoir track.    After a few hundred metres fatigue,  aching legs and hunger resulted in walking and it was then alternate walking / jogging to the finish.

Verdict :  It was a great run, a great race - one I thoroughly enjoyed apart, of course,  from the final section and one I'd recommend to anyone.  Even the hard going of the final section was lightened by thoughts of how good the earlier parts of the race were.   I'm glad I've done it and I'm looking forward to next year's race when I hope to be fit enough to achieve a reasonable time.