A warm Saturday in June, 2011, and a team of foolhardy walkers hobble down to Pen-y-Pass and return their numbers to the race officials – a fatal combination of too many beers the previous night, general lack of fitness, poor navigation and, above all, serious underestimation of the distance and terrain meant for a forced retirement from the walkers’ team event in the Welsh 1000m Peaks Race. Fast forward six years and I’m back on the start line, unfinished business in my sights. 

The only difference? The walkers had set off an hour and a half earlier; this time my entry was for the Long Fell Race event – the hardest of the four categories on offer. 32km, 2500m of climbing, five peaks over 1000m, starting by the sea and finishing at the highest point in England and Wales. Ambitious? Mis-calculated? Damn right stupid? 

Only time would tell. 100 runners, with what can only be described as that ‘serious-fell runner’ look about them, lined up in a simple cow field just off the A55 by the beach in the sunshine. And me. A sense of hushed anticipation suggested the day ahead would be tough… and long. Whilst I’d failed to get any sleep in the hostel, at least I wasn’t hungover like last time.

A measured start indicated even the leaders were nervous of setting out too quickly with the field slowly spreading out as we left the road to climb through woodland towards Aber Falls until a variety of route choices up towards the first control point at Yr Aryg scattered runners all over the hillside. This proved to be the first of many truly punishing climbs; thick, mossy grass and heather combining with sheer steepness to sap energy from the legs straight away.Aryg scattered runners all over the hillside.

Eventually, the gradient gave way a little though running still required effort across desolate, uneven moorland. Speed became more achievable following the checkpoint and I chose to follow the conservative racing line to Carnedd Llywelyn (the first of the 1000m peaks), going over the steep slopes of Foel Grach and managed to clock up the quickest bit of my run just coming off the summit. Crossing Llywelyn and along the stony ridge to Carnedd Dafydd (the second peak), the views were superb: to the north, the spiky ridge down to Yr Elen dominated the foreground with a spectacular backdrop of Anglesey and the North Wales coast; to the south, the Glyder ridge acting as an imposing reminder of what was to come. I felt strong and set about a descent into Ogwen but with concerns about my ankle I took it steady as opposed to a few of my competitors whom decended without fear.

After a brief water stop and encouragement from the supporters it was onwards and very steeply upwards towards Glyder Fawr. The sun was out, it was hot. The climb was relentless.

Suddenly, the cramp started in my hamstrings I think I probably got dehydrated and the descent took a lot of pounding on my legs, I kept drinking water and had a few of my Colombian treats (guava syrup) to save me, but the climb was brutal, until it started to be a grade 1 scramble, I wish I had joined GoodGym Bristol on their bouldering days now, oh and my calves started to cramp too, but I found putting weight on them stretched the muscle out.

I somehow made it onto the summit ridge of Glyder Fawr to be greeted by rain and bitter wind. Marvellous. Without hanging about, I began the steep, mainly grassy descent to Pen-y-Pass Except I went off course (this part was not on the course in 2011) and headed south not south east, this meant I ended up on cliff faces, but with a stunning view of Snowdon and Glyder Fawr with nobody in sight if I slipped this was getting quite scary (note to self do not do this, check the route before descending especially if using a GPS watch is banned) I also probably should have gone back up rather then keep going down and round. This also meant I lost a lot of time and I was getting worried about missing the cut off again, fortunately I eventually crawled around a headland and I could see the correct path. And I could descend to Pen Y Pas and I still had 45 minutes before the cut off. Where there was a feed station so I ate some bananas and began hobbling towards the Pyg Track advised you can walk it in 2 hours and you have 2:45.

So now I just had to run up Snowdon, on a recent Ashton Court parkrun I wondered what standing at the foot of Snowdon would feel like with the climb ahead, I was slightly daunted but knew I would make it. So I started digging in for the long, final push. Fighting through the tourist hoards – seriously, you’d think it was Cabot Circus on a Saturday afternoon – the top of the track began to seem achievable and the pain running through my whole body just about manageable; before I knew it, I’d made it onto the summit ridge, gained the summit of Ugain (peak 4) and was putting on a brave jog through the crowds to Snowdon summit and a finishers medal that’s been six years in the waiting. However the cramp in my quads set in 10m from the line, I have never been so close to a finish line and nearly not been able to cross the line, but I made it! I then was guided to a rock to sit on until the agony had passed I also congratulated a few other chaps whom I had been trading places with as we ascended.

Then I reached for my GoodGym flag which I had carried up ahead of the Olympics only to find my phone battery flat, so no summit photo (Second note to self maybe prioritising a flag over a bivvy-bag and a warm jumper was a foolish choice) I then went to the café for a cup of tea, a cream scone and crisps. Sadly my friends who I was running with had finished quite a bit earlier (i.e. didn’t get lost for an hour) and had headed down to get warm. After the stop I descended and decided to jog it as it was all downhill and this kept me warm and got me to beer quicker! This basically turns the run into a marathon with 3000m of ascent (getting lost did not help here).

The race had been won by Jack Wood of Ilkley Harriers in an impressive 4:05:31, only 59 seconds away from the course record, with Andrea Rowlands of Eyri Harriers first lady in stunning 4:38:31, beating her own course record by just over 15 minutes! The organisation of the race had been faultless and I am hugely grateful to the marshals whose positivity and encouragement went a long way.

It’s no wonder that on that Saturday back in 2011, four hungover chancers out for a hill walk challenge met their match in this race. It is a beast – from sea to the summit of Snowdon, covering some of the most spectacular and punishing terrain that Wales has to offer, it is 20+ miles of grit and determination. I’ve learnt a lot from it, I have a finisher’s medal I’m truly proud of, and I’m confident that, when I finish typing this, my legs will struggle to cope with the journey from sofa to bed. What more do you want from a fell race?

The relive can be seen here to see the epic mountains I ran across.

Thanks to Matt Hetherington who I have plagiarised some of this run report from.