It hasn’t come as a surprise that running has been hard going since the St Sunday race two and a half weeks ago. I came home tired and disappointed, neither of which are conducive to enjoyable running. The immediate answer, always, is to get out running with friends for chatty runs that bring me back to why I love the social aspect of running so much. But I also needed to address the knock that my mountain running received, so our family week in the Peak District couldn’t have come at a better time.
There may not be any actual mountains in the Peak, but the upland terrain, long moorland edges and high plateaux more than make up for that. After breaking ourselves in with a family walk along beautiful Derwent Edge, I took myself off the next morning to run up to Mam Tor from the house. This was my short run for the week, and it was glorious. My route took me along Rushup Edge, past the 4,500 year old Lord’s Seat Barrow, then up to Mam Tor before turning round and heading back. There is something very moving about running in places where we know our ancestors lived so many thousand of years ago, places that are peaceful and reflective for us but would likely have been very different in their time. It is a moment of connection with the world that brings some much needed perspective on our own lives.
Two days, another long walk and a climbing session later, and today was the day for my long run up Kinder Scout. I was a little slow getting going this morning, some nerves kicking in as I was contemplating my longest run this year, on my own, on entirely new trails. But there was excitement too as this is the kind of run that makes all the city runs worthwhile, a proper adventure that was going to challenge me in more ways than one. Truth be told I could probably have done without Garmin telling me I should be having a rest day just as I was about to start, but that just set off my stubborn streak as I became even more determined to make it a good one.
My route started out on the same path as my earlier run, but this time I was turning off Rushup Edge to head across the moorland to Brown Knoll. This is a desolate, isolated place, the only sign of human life being the flagged path that protects the peat underfoot. And it is magnificent, the views stretch for miles, even on a day with rain blowing in and out. We are very much visitors in places like this, there is nothing hospitable or comforting about it; it is a place that reminds us quite how small and vulnerable we are. I was quietly pleased that I’d come out with full kit and safety measures, and indeed, by the time I arrived at Kinder Low my t-shirt base layer had been replaced with long sleeves, a windproof and a waterproof.
This section was a little busier as I had joined the Pennine Way, though not for long. A quick out and back confirmed, sadly, that there was no upwards spray from Kinder Downfall today, then I left the main path again for a small track that contoured around the side of the plateau through the heather. This section was beautiful, purple hillsides giving way to grassy fields below, with a smattering of bilberries to keep me refreshed.
Eventually I was low enough to arrive at fields of livestock, which is where it all went wrong for a while. My route was through a field that was full of cows and calves, and a rather frisky bull – definitely not a field I was going to go through! Finding the detour was easy enough, but I was clearly tiring now and made a couple of errors as I got myself back on track, one of which left me wading through knee high tussocks of grass on a very steep slope to regain the path. This was very much time for a breather, so I found a sheltered spot to eat a protein bar and message my siblings asking for moral support (the message obviously didn’t go through in time, but knowing I’d hear from them eventually was remarkably uplifting).
A little while later I arrived at the Pennine Bridleway as it skirts the edge of South Head, allowing myself a moment of relief that the hard work was behind me. Although not quite all of it, the path had a final sting in the tail as it dropped down to an admittedly beautiful ford before the final climb up and along to the road, and back down the track to the house. I’d set out to do 12.7 miles and came home having done 14, with my husband and son cheering me in at the end.
Since I finished a few hours ago I have drunk gallons of tea and eaten almost non stop. Which is, of course, one of the bonuses of a long run. But this one was about so much more than that: it was a chance to go off on my own, to explore somewhere new, to prove to myself that I can take care of myself in potentially difficult environments, and to remind myself of how much I can do when I really set my mind to it. It was an adventure, in a stunningly beautiful place, and it really doesn’t get any better than that.
Gear note: This was the first proper outing for my new La Sportiva Prodigios. They were the perfect shoe for this run, grippy and responsive but cushioned enough for the slabby sections. Thanks for the recommendation Up and Under!
I Run Free 