The race starts from the middle of town after the carnival parade has gone through, at first following the main road before turning down a side street and crossing the river Goyt (by bridge) and heading into the municipal park. A short climb took us out of the park and to the first jam as we all came to a gate, along a grassy lane, then a narrower gate and a bigger jam. We crossed a road, marshalls holding the traffic for us. An impatient beep from someone in an expensive car prompted the response 'do you want to run someone over' from a marshall.
Once safely across, more fields led to Taxal, and the first big climb. Up until now I'd been taking it easy, although a lot of the route was new ground to me this particular section I'd ran before. Actually 'ran' is perhaps the wrong word, the climb is steep through grassy fields. Like everyone else I adopted a fast walk, hunched slightly forward swinging my arms to and fro for momentum. At a couple of points I managed a slow jog, and made a couple of places as a result. The fields ended with a stile over a high drystone wall, and another traffic jam. I didn't mind, the views left and right were fantastic, bringing a smile to my face as this is so close to home, a reminder of how lucky I am to live in the Peaks.
Over the stile, a few yards of tarmac and we're onto Taxal Moor and more climbing. Again a mix of walking and slow running meant that I moved up through the pack before the path leveled off. A short stony descent, arms flailing for balance, over a style and through the trees, down, across a bridge, up (passed a couple more runners), another gate, and onto Windgather, a local climbing hotspot. We took a low route behind the crag, and on the floor was a runner wrapped in a foil blanket being attended by marshals and other competitors. I carried on, the marshall was summoning help and there was nothing I could do to help but stay out of the way. An important reminder that this is a risk sport, during a race there are other competitors and officials on hand but when I'm out alone I really am alone, the solitude I enjoy when out on the moors could one day work against me should I take a tumble.
We turn at Wingather, just past the end of the main crag, and head along the top back towards Whaley. A young climber sticks his head up, 'I bet you didn't expect this' I say, he just smiles. Through fields now, downhill at first then gently climbing, sedge brushing my legs, then back onto Taxal and fine undulating singletrack running. Rocks poke through here and there, mainly on the short drops, trees hang their branches low to make us stoop, and we run downhill again, muddy patches making it interesting underfoot, and we hit tarmac where runners that I passed earlier are now passing me. Now we're retracing our steps, into the park, down towards the finish. 'This path', a marshall points us to the right off the main track. 'Keep right then a big jump' shouts the second marshall, I skirt a patch of deep mud then, jump!, straight into the Goyt. The water is only thigh deep but I'm immersed up to my chest on landing, being cheered by a crowd of onlookers. A couple of staggered steps and, composure regained, I'm out of the river, up the bank, and heading through back streets to the finish smiling like an idiot. Well, running fast downhill and jumping into rivers, its not really the done thing for an adult is it?
I cross the line in 147th place with a time of 65.32. 216 runners finished, the fastest time being 40.00. But for me today wasn't about times or placings, just about having a good time in a beautifull place, running for the pure joy of it, racing not to beat the clock or anyone else but to simply enjoy the experience. Should I do this race again next year it will be different, I'll want to do better, get a faster time, move up the list. But right now I'm perfectly content.
With thanks to the race organisers, the event was superbly run, the course well marked and marshalled.
Paul.
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