With the Snowdon Mountain Race shortened last year, Mrs Mac developed a deep seated desire to complete the full 9.5 miler after her initial 2023 taster. Speedy was privileged to get a call up for the Scottish Team and I was voted as best driver for the intended trip, and, strangely, I also found my name down on the entry list.
Mrs Mac hasn't managed much training in recent weeks so, in preparation, we rocked up last week to a local low key trail race. We hadn't pre-entered but I was assured that there were entries on the line. It was 17 quid for UKA members; 19 for others. It was a warm muggy evening as we approached the organisers table. We had our names and ages taken and received our numbers. 'That'll be 40 quid please' advised the young lady as she looked up. I looked a little nonplussed, then inquired why the inflated charge. There seemed little debate and that's what she wanted, I think because that was the 'enter on the line' charge. However, for some reason, I bridled at this rampant runflation and handed my number back. Mrs Mac considered the developing situation, and then, to my relief, handed hers back. The scene reminded me of the advert where the bloke tries to buy onions, only for the vendor to say that he only accepts crypto currency. What a load of Malarkey.
We went instead back home via a chip shop and pub where we enjoyed the life of Joe Public for an hour and spent some, but not all, of the 40 quid the run was going to cost us. I admit, chip shop and pubs are not destinations that any self respecting athlete should be frequenting, but my self respect is a little down in the polls right now and, anyway, a 'bonding' session is a term used routinely for this sort of deviancy, is it not?
With 800 extra calories on board, our small troop took off at 9.30am on Friday and we made our way to Llanberis. We arrived just before four in the afternoon and the sun was high, the mighty slate mountains looking down on us as we let ourselves in the end of terrace cottage we had booked for the 2 days. It was right on the course along the road that leads up to Yr Wyddfa, all 3500ft of it. After unpacking, it was a steady 4 mile shake down along the lake followed by a short refreshment and pasta. The forecast for the next day was bleak for July, but not apocalyptic with steady rain but light southerly winds and we were hopeful that we would get to run the full race course.
We rested on Saturday morning, letting our porridge and bananas settle, before picking our numbers and t- shirts up at a local church. Speedy was no 13 and I recommended she wore the number upside down. However, she's not superstitious (at least with regards to that number) and we wandered back to the cottage for a last minute cuppa as the crowds and air of anticipation began to rise.
A light drizzle had arrived as expected as we warmed up next to the start, Mrs Mac picking up a new lightweight waterproof at Pete Blands stall in last minute prep for the start. My experience last year (where I found out it was gun time that counted at the finish line and not chip time) meant that, this year, I was starting as close to the start line as possible and we were soon off, the international runners streaking away in front.
The steepest sections of the race are the first mile and the fourth, and I knew I had to work hard to get up the hill in good time in order to take advantage of the long runnable descent. I was sitting behind an irish runner and kept close to a bloke from Horwich. He kept walking-jogging and this reflected my 'style'. He might have also been M60 so I didn't want to let him go. There was water on the course at two water stations and even though I was completely saturated, it was welcome.
We moved higher up the hill and soon the paths had become rivulets of brown gravelly water. There were, as ever, loads of walkers peppered about the place. What a treat for them. Four hundred mental runners coming at them from all angles. Soon enough the leaders started tearing down past us and Speedy looked like she was doing well. I got past Horwich man near the top and rounded the turn with the Irish runner. I hoofed on then down the hill, passing an ascending Mrs Mac who had beaten the cut-off. On the long descent I managed to pick off a good handful of runners which is excellent for morale.
Ant gave me a shout near the bottom and that spurred me on but it seemed a long way down. However, it only took 30 minutes and I hit the tarmac with little reserve but determination to avoid getting caught on the mile run-in to the finish. Irish girl came past easily as gravity reverted to normal, but she was not in my age group and I gritted my teeth for 1:38 on the line and, as it turned out, 1st M60. I was convinced that the phenomena that is Bingley's Ian Holmes would have been 1st, but he's still in his late 50's. He still managed 1.22. Speedy finished 9th (again), a great result considering her episode of lurgy a fortnight ago.
We opted to go to the presentation and, in doing so, missed Mrs Macs glorious return. It was raining heavily at this point, but there was no sign of her new waterproof..... 'Keeping it for good?!'
It was a 30 quid token for the race and a free curry in the evening. .
Note to self: don't drink beer immediately after eating red onions. Taste buds all over the place.
All in all a decent weekend.
I'm in Aberfeldy next month for a friends meet-up. In browsing the race programme for races, I came across the Kenmore trail race on the Friday evening. Six miles. Ideal. The price? Thirty five notes. Give us a break!
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