It was back to Snowdonia for the Snowdon International two days ago. I was on taxi duties. I was also on camera and water mule duties for the race which Speedy Joe was in, but you can't do both and water and cameras don't mix well. We got down on the Friday afternoon and jogged around Llanberis. This was followed up by a bit of retail therapy in one of the four outdoor shops and then a visit to the chippie. It was a half an hour wander up toward the slate quarry before a cooked breakfast on Saturday morning. I then ran-jog-walked my way up most of Elidir Fawr, the southern face of which mostly has been carved up those old slate workers. There were many abandoned buildings. The place was stunning and bathed in a heat-haze in the early morning light.
There were some climbers on one face and walkers dotted here and there, but after 3 miles of ascent I thought it best to descend and grab a cuppa before the next ascent halfway up Snowdon. The village was bedecked with green and red bunting, the main road had been coned off, the banners and flags were up and there was an air of excitement as 400 runners gathered for a 2pm start. We had left an hour before and Ant and Missus Mac stopped around halfway while I went a little higher. There were, as usual, throngs of Joe Public on the hill and we passed a woman who had tripped and fallen and was waiting for the Mountain Rescue. Many we heard to mutter 'whats occurring?'...
I got to the steps just before the 2nd Tunnel in good time and positioned myself beside the drone cameraman. The cameras were there and you can apparently see the race on BBC Wales iplayer in a weeks time. Tidy. The runners were soon streaming up the hill like ants and I offered a drink to a few. Some drank, some poured it over their heads and others declined. I filled up the bottle twice from the tottie wee burn that I had found last week and I could tell some of the runners were super hot.
Speedy was well up, but also toiling and after she passed I jogged down to the halfway mark to wait her return. It wasn't long before they were careering downhill at breakfast speed (or was it breakneck) and one lad went absolutely flying in front of me as he caught his toe on a rock. Speedy passed in good time and took a gub of water as I ran beside her like something out of the TDF. I got down half an hour later, my hips beginning to grumble and we enjoyed an ice cream and a dip before the hour long presentation which bizarrely was in reverse and not at all respectful to the Elite runners, some of whom had come from Italy, Ireland and the north of Scotland. Some had even come from Wales.
The ice cream man tried to charge me 50p a shot for the red monkey blood when I bought 3 cones. What a brassneck. I told him he was having a laugh and as he reluctantly gave me my change, he said 'I hope you sleep well tonight'. He was raking it in, so I don't know what he was on about. We had a curry at the hotel on the night and a few beers and after a short jog on the Sunday assisted by a mushroom and fried egg fuelled breakfast we were back on our way north. It was truly boiling at Lancaster Services, and I was glad that the race had not been on the Sunday.
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