Peatpixie versus the OMM

Blog break

Where have I been? Why haven’t I blogged? The answer is simple – life got in the way. Minipixie is loads of fun to hang out with, even with chickenpox. Spare time taken up with visiting family and friends, making the most of the last summer before we are sucked into the school term shackles, work being hard, and with trips away to reduce my time even further. Oh and running, and racing, gradually being pushed up the priorities. I toughed out a brutal Trigger and made myself a promise to get to the Lakes, to train there and race there, as often as I could, which in reality I guessed would be once every couple of months. By May I had made good on my word and had been up to Langdale on a blustery damp weekend and slogged through an Old County Tops recce with some ace mates, returning damp and jubilant that my legs , trained on nothing but peak district weekend days, and the odd lunchtime hill dash, still had something of my old form in them. Jubilation was squashed when I returned a few weeks later to do Fairfield Horseshoe, and sprained my ankle a few metres away from the summit. Summer was cancelled.

I don’t panic about injury time-outs any more, I am too old and grizzled. So I re-set my goals and looked to Autumn to be my time for racing in fun places. Raced a little over summer, the short and not too gnarly variety, quietly notching up points in Glossopdale’s fell championships. Then opportunity knocked when new mum Alice proposed an OMM team. Yes, a thousand times yes! Who better to do this event with than another running mum needing to keep true to fellrunning alongside the circus of parenting. What better time to peak than late October, after the FRA relays which spurred me to train to be fit, fast and navigationally competent, Everything fell into place and then fell apart when poor Al got a beastly chest infection the week before the FRAs, meaning both our outings at the relays and the OMM were not possible. Alice’s husband , Tim, promised to go easy on me as her replacement and then 2 days before the OMM, called me to say it just wasn’t possible for them both to travel. I was gutted for them both. Then suddenly realised I could try to find a partner. Social media connections in fellrunning run deep and I messaged Josie G, last seen at a race in the Lakes before I even knew what “parenting” meant. Thankfully she is both an avid mountain marathoner and on half term break, and accepted my offer. Back on…but with an added dose of being responsible for the driving,  and making sure I gathered enough kit together. Tim and Alice magnanimously lent us their tent (Josies awaiting repair) and some other kit and bits and off we set for Largs, Ayrshire on a drenched Friday afternoon. Last minute but very enthusiastic

OMM arrival

The OMM is the more commercial of mountain marathons so it didn’t surprise me , on arrival, that the shop was the first thing I saw after registering in the big marquee. I did buy some ¾ leggings tho cos they were cheep! Josie had the sudden realisation that she’d packed shorts, and would likely be needing more leg cover due to the expected vast swathes of heathery moor to cross. She also purchased some ¾ length leggings. We then spent lots more time than planned chattering and socialising, Josie knowing a LOT of people and me playing “can I spot anyone I actually know” – Sarah and Robin from Glossop arrived but Immy had been and gone. We repaired to the Premier Inn about 30 mins drive away.

smile, for you know not what lies before you 

OMM Day 1

In no time at all we were back in the parking field in the dark, hurriedly checking all kit, food etc were in order and packs were not too lumpy. I was wearing the dibber (little device to poke into a hole to log your presence, for those who don’t know) on my wrist, so without further ado we headed off at a not-too-fast march to the start, which was billed as “1.8 mile uphill from the marquee”. I have to say I was more nervous about getting to the start, than the event itself. So off we went.

I fell instantly into the trap of trying to figure out which other teams were in direct competition with us, which is more than worthless in a MM because there are 5 different races, routes all varying, although some control points are shared. We did get the distinct impression that there were a fair few fresh-faced teams in our category. After a short time of getting used to the map scale, terrain etc we felt comfortable, though the heather was beginning to scrape Josie’s ankles and she’d even snagged her new kecks on a fence. We ran alongside a team of two young ladies who were both wearing proper short shorts earning them our nickname of “brave-shorts”  - I hope they didn’t suffer too badly! The big bonus was that visibility was amazing, so some controls were just a game of spot the crowd, and we swore blind we showed Jim Mann and Nic B a good line off along a ridge.

Photo R&R images

Soon the heather became a bit ridiculous and though we did a really efficient job of the section of the course where you have to pick your own route, there was a long pull through unforgiving heather and the pain became rather awful for Josie. She put on waterproof pants which helped, but progress was still a trudge and with regular tumbles for both of us into what would become the most shouted word of the weekend “DITCH” (or just “BITCH!!”)

We made it into the camp in around 7 hours which I think , given the terrain, was pretty respectable. Good fortune had us camped next door to 2 mates of Josie’s and both Glossop pairs close by too. We started to compare notes and then rain began, so a mass dive into tents was required. My feet were dull blocks of ice, the toenails looking a bit battered. I had my two dehydrated meals (boy am I glad I packed 2) and went off to sleep. My feet sprang into painful life at around 0100 and the throbbing and aching was so violent, I thought that was my chances of rest gone. Taking off my socks seemed to do the trick. 

OMM Day 2

Rain and strong wind awoke me at around 0500 (0600 on the watch, daylight saving starts)  and gradually the sound of vehicles at the camp marshal point and people around us stirring, made it necessary to wake up and face the (wet) music. A hardy bagpiper was also making the rounds of the camp, along with an overly cheery man with a megaphone.

I was in a blind panic because I couldn’t find my waterproof trousers. I realised they had likely dropped out of the pack whilst I was fishing for some gloves or a snack earlier the previous day ,and sunk unnoticed into the heather. If I tried to run more than a few hours without them in the rain, hypothermia would become a real risk. I made a plan to use my survival bag as a plastic “skirt” but couldn’t shake off the worry, never mind the worry that we may be randomly kit checked and disqualified for not having the required items.

We started at a wooden bridge, and I know we both were dreading any more heathery hellholes. Thankfully most of the ground was boggy grass which was a veritable treat compared to ankle-clinging ditch dodging. 

photo R&R Images

We did make our one big error which was to misjudge our pacing and ran past our first control. Josie really impressed me with her quick planning to regain the situation but we knew that we’d become distanced from other competitors in our category. It did have the benefit of there being a number of trodden paths leading to various places we needed to visit, so running rather than marching was much easier than on day 1. We caught a number of other teams, after doing a really decent job of the choice section of the route even if I do say so myself, and were rewarded with a grassy (if tussocky) descent down to a road checkpoint where all the day’s routes were converging on the final hill , beyond which the finish, a brew, and food,  lay. The final track down through forests in the estate were well-worn by studs of faster teams, parts of which resembled a steep bank in an XC race, and down, down we dashed, with weighty packs helping/hindering our hurtle. We did both remain mainly upright, then joyously ran to the finish.

Map brain

Both days, as time progressed, the land “came into focus” on the map-  that is the best way I can describe the feeling of finally being able to look up, and look down to the map, and see the connections without having to stand and scratch my head. The buff-coloured wiggles became more meaningful and I started to be able to say things like “there will be a little lump here and then it’s about 300 metres further”. I can honestly say that the amount of information on maps is pretty terrifying to me, a lot to try and process all at once. In the past, I’ve felt pressure to just move fast, and tried either make things fit, or look for something blindingly obvious like a summit or a fence to aim for, and wasted loads of time going uphill or over rough land. This time I was able to think it out more clearly, and overlay all the hard lessons of the last few years onto my decision making, Josie is clearly very good at all this and was very patient and polite, when I made a couple of silly suggestions. One thing we both found hard was the colouring on the race map. Pale grey gridlines made taking bearings harder.

Bring on the one-day mini mountain marathons and Praise Be for Josie Greenhalgh!

As a wise man once said "avoid races with bagpipes, they're all shit"