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Sunday, 25 November 2018

The British Fell and Hill Relay Championship (Not the FRA’s...)



Firstly, how to really annoy an official at this event – just refer to it as the FRA’s. Ever since I can remember its been the FRA’s. But now its not to be called that anymore, it’s The British Fell and Hill Relay Championship. Catchy, huh? Presumably it has both “fell” and “hill” in the title because you don’t have fells in Scotland, you have hills and you don’t have hills in parts of England-shire, you have fells. I don’t know about Wales. Anyway, this is most definitely not the FRA’s.

It was a bit of an epic drive down the road on the Friday night, mentally I had calculated it would take about 6 hours from Aberdeen (I guess I now drive like a proper Aberdonian) not the 6 hours from Fife that it actually took so it was very late when we eventually arrived, not helped by Moira’s sat nav appearing to have some interesting ideas of its own. We collapsed into bed in the dorm room at the youth hostel knackered but sleep didn’t come easy, as is often the case in hostels a dorm room on the top floor does a good impression of an oven.




The weather forecast promised gloom, clouds and rain and gloom, clouds and rain were duly delivered. There was a low-lying mist blanketing the hillside and I lined up for the first leg quite happy that I wasn’t doing the navigation stage of the race. The first stage started on an uphill and then proceeded to climb steadily for about half of its 5 or so miles on a rocky path, the large slabs of rock were slippy in the rain. Its unusual to be slipping going up hill!. It was a pretty uneventful climb apart from passing a female runner who seemed a bit out of sorts. I asked her if she was ok but I did notice that where the terrain was a bit level and easier going she seemed fine but when the terrain involved a bit of technical stuff she seemed very unhappy and a bit panicky. She said she was fine so I picked my way past her and trudged on to the checkpoint at the top. I felt a bit sluggish and tired but I put that down to a very long days' travelling the day before and a lack of sleep but on the positive note I was still ahead of the runner for the Carnethy ladies vets team and that’s what matters isn’t it?

After the checkpoint it was all downhill and that’s when the real carnage began. The descent was treacherous. I ran past one runner who was on the ground with a large group of other runners helping him out and then came across another runner who looked to have fallen. A fellow runner had stopped and was trying to pull waterproof clothing on to him and I noticed he was shaking so I attempted to feed him chocolate thinking he was probably cold and maybe a bit low in sugar. While I was doing this I noticed out of the corner of my eye the Carnthy runner trot past and onwards down the hill…grrrr…

A few other people stopped and eventually someone appeared who did seem to have some medical/first aid knowledge and he sent me on my way down the hill. I guess there was a real risk of anyone stopping for too long getting cold. Desperate to make up time I tried to speed up but then the inevitable happened on the grassy hillside made slick and greasy with the rain and numerous runner’s feet, I lost my footing and slipped, falling heavily, and all of a sudden it was me in the situation where other runners were stopping to assist me. For the most part I was just winded but I had landed awkwardly and wrenched my shoulder. Worst of all though, my descending confidence went and for the rest of the run I picked my way nervously downhill clutching my arm to me as most of the field shot past. In fact I was probably lurching downhill a bit like Quasimodo when I think about it. Bitterly disappointed I crossed the finish line sending Jocelyn and Hilary off on the “long stage” around Fairfield. 

I got changed very slowly as I could barely raise my arm by this stage and went over to the race officials to ask what was happening about the injured runner and was informed that mountain rescue were on their way and that he had a suspected broken leg. So much for my diagnosis of low sugar. I think I was still a bit shaken too, mainly at how it would be so easy to get in trouble on the hillside and it still amazes me that there are runners who skimp on emergency kit when they go out on the hills.


I wandered over to the marquee, rescued my food voucher and then joined the queue for the burger van and to wait for the next 3 stages of the event to finish. Jocelyn and Hilary finished without incident sending Moira and Anita on their way into the mist on the navigation stage. They got round with no navigational bloopers unlike the local Keswick team whose misfortune was the source of more than a little amusement. It had to happen to a local team didn’t it? 

Unfortunately in between assisting the fallen runner and my own fall I had lost so much time on leg one we were now consigned to the mass start and Louise started the last leg in the final group of runners while Hilary, Jocelyn and I cheered her on with a beer in hand. It was a brave move by Louise making this her first race back after injury especially as it featured a brutally steep descent to the finish. As it turned out though arch rivals Carnethy were missing a team member so couldn’t finish a vets team anyway. 


I think though I was the only team casualty of the day and during the evening my shoulder stiffened up badly so I had another sleepless night, this time from the pain. My number one concern was how I was going to drive up the road from Fife to Aberdeen but that was to be Sunday evening’s problem. Fortunately, it was my right shoulder that i had hurt so I was ok for changing gear and could just rest my right hand on the steering wheel while praying that I wouldn’t have to take any evasive action at any point while driving. When I got home I could barely raise my arm up and my shoulder was very swollen but as the swelling subsided over the next two weeks so did the pain – although I did have to explain to work colleagues the reason I was raising my arm up on odd occasions was to test it out, it was not because I had joined the far right or anything like that.


A bottle of wine or two was opened in back in the youth hostel room and we sat and drank wine and ate chocolate and crisps surrounded by the aroma of drying running kit ( even leaving the window of the youth hostel room open did little to improve matters in that respect) before heading downstairs to the bar where the youth hostel served dinner  (my, haven’t youth hostels got posh these days?) 



The next day we went for a nice walk and I dragged my achy carcass along hoping that there would be no climbing or scrambling involved. It was quite atmospheric in the rain and the mist and Bill was the only one who did any climbing. We got soaked and I did feel a bit sorry for the café owner as we trudged in dripping wet and had lunch as condensation streamed down the windows of the cafe!












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