A slightly cautious week in view of the unknown experience to come, that of the Black Mountains Fell Race.
This soft, southern, road-runner was feeling quite anxious about this one.
The event was recommended to me by a friend of mine. He’s into Alpine marathons and more these days, but has plenty of experience on the fells and mountains of these islands. He’s also recently completed his final Munro (mountains in Scotland over 3000ft high); given there are 283 of them, that’s quite an achievement.
Anyway, when he says do the Black Mountains, we know he speaks sense.
After about 12 miles I was on my knees. You know when the TV camera zooms in on one of those poor, depleted marathon runners who cannot run in straight line any more? I felt like I was going that way — after just 12 miles! So, I ate and drank everything I was carrying and just about got it together to complete the 17 miles. Seventeen mile? Was that all?
I’ve been running races for nearly 20 years, none have wiped me out so quickly and ruthlessly as this one.
If you get the chance, try it, it is a fantastic event, thanks Cedric!
If this sort of race interests you than find out more by reading the excellent book ‘Feet in the Clouds’.
The following week was pretty much recovery mode for me, although the thought of an off-road marathon in one month kept me from having too much rest.
Total miles for 2 weeks: 61
Barefoot miles: 0.5
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