Ending my time as a Sutcliffe on a high!

It's now one week on from my Snowdon Twilight Uphill race experience and my legs have just about recovered! What a cracker of a race it was, being all the more sweet as I went into it after 2 months of no running due to (yet a-sodding-nother) achillies injury and expecting very little of myself. Yes, I know what readers will think: running up a mountain with a dodgy achillies, really? But my thinking for going ahead with the race was six fold:
1) I needed (and wanted!) to go to North Wales anyway to deliver a bridesmaid dress to Sarah, my bridesmaid who lives in Llanberis.
2) I had paid for the entry and couldn't get a refund on it: didn't want yet another £20 to go down the drain on a DNS.
3) I figured, in my present state of (non-existent) running fitness, I would be walking rather than running most of it anyway, thus not compounding overuse running injuries.
4) I also figured that my left leg was so buggered already, what harm would it do if I broke it some more as I'm not running on it at the moment anyway (yes, I do realise that this skewed way of thinking is probably why I am perpetually injured...)
5) I have enough non-running related stuff going on over the next few months to distract me if I did screw myself up completely and so I had mentally prepared myself to accept the consequences of potentially damaging it some more.
6) This is the first and only race on Snowdon to go uphill only and finish at the top (well, the first one that has been open to anyone and not purely to elites on an invitational basis) – an absolute dream for me as I hate the downhill part – so I sure as hell wasn't about to miss out on a chance to be a part of Snowdon Race history!

Enough justification, so I thought, to give it a bash.

So, what did it entail? Well, quite simple really: start in the lakeside field where the annual Snowdon Race starts and run to the summit of Snowdon up the Llanberis path. 5 miles, 3250ft of ascent, with the added twist of it being run at dusk so that you also raced the sun to the summit, which in turn entreated us to the most marvellous sunset views from the top. (Think glowing orange sky over Anglesey to gawp at on the jog back down).

The event did not disappoint. It was far more low-key than the main up and downhill event in July, with a small but select crowd of 103 runners assembling on the start line. We were counted through the start by marshalls, checked that we were carrying all the mandatory kit – headtorch, waterproof, gloves, hat/Buff – and then we charged off towards the mountain.

A small but perfectly formed field assemble at the base of Snowdon ready to race to the top!

Considering my abysmal build up for this race, I had absolutely no expectations of performing well. I most certainly didn't plan to be competitive at the front end of the ladies' field, knowing full well that some experienced fell and mountain runners would be toeing the line, and I resigned myself to having to walk some of the sections that I previously scampered up with ease. My main concern was that I would make the 1h05m cut off at Clogwyn station (three quarters of the way up) and be allowed to continue to the top. I know, I know I always undersell myself, but this time I really did fear this would be a challenge too far. When I say I haven't been running, I mean it! A DNF at Welsh Castles relay, followed by a week of hobbling at a walk, closed the book on my last attempt to run. Since then, I've just been cross-training, biking and working on my swim: I figure I might as well use the enforced rest from running to work on the weaker of my triathlon disciplines! (Which, by the by, appears to be working if today's 400m time trial PB is anything to go by!).

The one positive of going into a race with the 'complete' rather than 'compete' mindset was that I was totally chilled out leading up to it and really looking forward to running an event out of my area, where I knew nothing of the fellow runners (and they knew nothing of me!) and where I could just slot into the pack and run my own race: no pressure! Well.... no pressure, that is, aside from the usual amount I heap on myself once I toe that startline and the adrenaline kicks in! I suddenly found myself scrutinising (and doubting) the contents and weight of my Camelbak: am I carrying too much water? Did I really need to pack that extra Helly top for the descent or could I have just managed with my windcheater? And I found myself scrutinising my own weight: look at all these ultra-skinny fell types around you; you're going to be hauling about a stone more bulk up that mountainside than these other women. Are my shorts tighter? I'm sure they are. My thighs are definitely bigger: bloody Chris Hoy cycling legs. I feel heavy and sluggish: definitely shouldn't have had that extra spoonful of pasta at lunch. Shouldn't have had pasta at lunch at all: idiot. Hate evening races: all that waiting around and worrying about being hungry and having low blood sugar come race time, I've now gone and consumed too much. Oh well, too late to do anything about it now.... oooh, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1: we're off!!!

The usual manic charge and jostling for position along the 0.40 mile opening stretch of flat tarmac. Quick check of the watch: 6m/m, what the hell?! I'm meant to unfit and starting conservatively. Over the cattle grid and, bang, we hit the hill. “Here we go, the fun starts”, I share with a fellow competitor who is alongside me at this point. “Well, we wouldn't be here if we liked the flat tarmac I guess”, he offers back: that's one of the things I love about mountain running, the camaraderie and banter (did I really just use that awful word?!) between runners, all there sharing a common love and a common goal.

Snowdon, via the Llanberis path, is a run of three parts. The first third is horrendously hilly, the opening section on tarmac, then the hill continues up steep, rugged steps until level with Hebron; the middle third levels out and is surprisingly runnable, you scamper past Halfway House and are just beginning to establish some sort of rhythm and then, BOOM! The fun really starts. You approach Allt Moses, followed by Allt Goch. You can largely forget running for this entire mile long section, save for a very brief moment of respite as you head under the railway bridge at Clogwyn.

A quick check of the watch as I passed Halfway House read 29:30. Hmm.... the first half covered in under 30 minutes; surprising. However, never being quite sure whether it is exactly halfway, if it is halfway in terms of height gain or in terms of distance covered, I promptly dismissed any faint glimmer of hope of getting anywhere near my previous summit PB (set in 2011, before injuries kicked in and when I was training descent mileage and hills every week) of 1:01:56. Knowing that the toughest section was to come, I figured I had likely gone out too hard, was imminently to blow up and would pay the price for my over-exuberance later on!

Just before halfway, on the flatter middle section.

A brief boost came in the form of seeing Moira shortly before halfway. She informed me that I was third female at that point and I was flabbergasted! In the mad-dash start I had totally lost sight of where I was in relation to others, and, to be honest, I hadn't paid as much attention as usual as I had ruled out a podium finish from the get-go. Shortly after, a little wisp of a lady effortlessly floated past me, only serving to reaffirm that she was pacing a sensible race and I, clearly, wasn't. (Also reaffirming that my recently acquired chunky, muscular triathlete's body is not the ideal physique of an uphill mountain runner!) On the more level, runnable stretches, I found that cardiovascular fitness was letting me down and I as looking forward to the steep sections for an excuse to walk. Once I hit the steep sections, my back and quads and calves would start screaming and I was praying for it to level out so I could run again and give my back a break! (Mental note to self: much more core work needed.)

The stream of runners snakes its way ever upwards towards the summit! (I'm on the far right, in the yellow!)

As soon as we reached Clogwyn we headed into cloud. At the start, the race director had mooted the idea that there might be a cloud inversion waiting for us at the summit and so I was hopeful. Of all my Snowdon summits whilst living in North Wales, I have never been fortunate enough to be entreated to this spectacular sight: maybe tonight would be the night?! As it turned out, it wasn't to be; just the usual grey mist. Luckily I know the mountain well enough by now to know when the summit is drawing near and when to time my final push. I managed to pick off a guy in the final 100 meters as, suddenly, without warning, Hafod Eryri (the summit building) appeared through the clouds and there was the finish line! Glacing again at my Garmin it read 59:46, with approximately 20 meters left to run. My final spurt ensured that I crossed the line in just under the hour: 59:57. My first ever sub-1 hour summit run and a new PB! What the hell? Garmin, are you drunk? Stop teasing me like this. But no, apparently it was confirmed by the results: 4th female, 3rd senior female and 30th overall in 59:57. I should be satisfied, right? It way exceeded even the most optimistic of my expectations. But I wasn't. The first thought: could I have found that extra 1 and a half minutes to claim the third spot? The second thought: if I can do this on no running training at all, what could I achieve if I was actually able to string together a decent spell of training and wasn't injured all the damn time?

The great thing about finishing at the summit is that you could have a panad and a post-race natter with all the other runners at the top before jogging down at a leisurely pace. Entry fee included a cuppa and a flapjack!

The beauty of racing at dusk: we were entreated to this stunning sunset over Anglesey on the descent. 

Ah, the injury. Did it aggravate it? Bizarrely, no. I didn't feel it at all and, the next day, it felt less stiff upon waking than it has in months. Furthermore, all the swelling in it had apparently subside overnight. The rest of my legs were trashed: walking downhill was virtually impossible, stairs were a total write-off for the next three days and I generally felt as though I'd been violently beaten up down some back alley and left there for dead. But it was DOMS: that much missed ache that gently lets you know that your body has been put through something tough and it wants you to look after it for the next few days. A nice, satisfying ache and NOT an injury.

We were allowed to jog back down the railway as it doesn't run after 6pm and I paused to savour this most amazing, peaceful moment where I sat down on a rock to appreciate the view and all I could hear was my own breathing. Pretty special. This was interspersed with moments of other runners catching me up (I was only shuffling to protect my leg!), stopping to run alongside for a few minutes and have a natter, share experiences etc. All in all, the summit finish concept worked superbly: it gave you a completely different experience of the mountain. 

So, what now? Well, firstly, there is the small matter of my wedding on July 11th. That will be succeeded by a honeymoon which, rather conveniently, will take place in North Wales.... just whilst the main Snowdon Race (uphill and down) happens to be on. It would be a shame not to give this a bash, given that my achillies came off the Twilight race so well, right?! ;-) Then, one week later, I am entered into the Scott Snowdonia Trail half marathon. This entails running up Snowdon and back down again, but with the added delight of running an extra 5 miles on the trails around Llyn Padarn afterwards. This one is not so set in stone: it's one thing getting away with an uphill stomp to the summit, then relaxing in the cafe with a panad before trotting down again at a leisurely pace, but 13 miles would be longer than I have run in one go since January 2014, so probably not a wise plan to even start.

Otherwise, our honeymoon will entail lots of open water swim training in the lake – doubles up as active recovery for the post-race leg aches and pains too – and generally lots of day-tripping, walking and relaxing in the beautiful Snowdonia.

So I completed my last race as a Sutcliffe on a high - metaphorically and physically; you won't find a finish line higher in England and Wales at any rate! The next blog post will be brought to you from Ellie Dominey. I plan for Ellie Dominey to be injury free and achieve greater things than Ellie Sutcliffe so far has. Here's hopin'! Watch this space!