Cheviot might've been undergoing a quiet minor eruption for all we knew whilst waiting for the start of this year's summit race. The top certainly couldn't be seen, shrouded as it was in a damp mist, nor did it reveal itself at all during the course of the morning. Not much more was revealed, even to those that hauled themselves up there during the race, as the blanket enveloped the entire hilltop and clung round the trig-point turn which suddenly loomed eerily for runners approaching along the flagstones. As one marshall wryly commented in the gloom when I made the halfway, "The view was hardly worth the effort!"
But, although some scallops of snow still lay in hollows here and there (I make that 4 months continuously that Cheviot has borne some snow now!) and it was murky and cool up top, further down the hill and in the Langlee Valley it was relatively warm and clear albeit with a headwind to test the field a little on the outbound leg. And the tracks and paths were surprisingly dry. Not bad conditions.
Glenn gave the off at 11 and away we went. No-one was in the mood to put up much resistance to Phil Sanderson's intention on taking the lead and away he went. His silhouette, effortlessly gliding along some far distant ridge, is becoming like an image from some strange recurring dream for a lot of us mere mortals of the fell running world in these parts! Second place was comfortably settled into as well from early on by Charlie Stead of NFR. Next in line, Lee Bennett and I, nipping and tucking for 3rd and 4th for most of the way, didn't realistically have a chance of moving any higher up the placings unless something went wrong for those ahead after they'd drawn out some yardage with strong legs early on.
So...that's where the race was for me. I got a neck, Lee clung on. Lee got the edge, I clung on. I was tired though. Knew I was slower than previous attempts here. Knew I shouldnt've done hill reps Thursday night. Knew I was going to regret having been surfing yesterday. Always good to have an excuse to trot out! Force the breathing. Gulp in as much oxygen as possible. Ignore that miniature boxer hammering away in the chest-cavity. Lee seemed to sense my reluctance to make a decisive break and eventually he made his move, right at the start of the steeps of Cheviot itself, a few seconds extra dig which I didn't respond to and which gave him about 20 yards. I didn't lose touch though, which I felt might happen, even though I had to drop to a stride at a couple of points wheras Lee kept the jog going all the way up. On this part of the climb I'd actually felt the presence of the next chaser, Bruce Crombie, who was making ground on us all the time with that perversely admirable ability to make it hurt that I just didn't have today. However, up onto the flagstones for the half-k or so across to the trig, and I felt a little more like it. Lee hadn't gone completely clear and I felt I had the speed over any of the followers. And this close corridor out-and-back bit is always fun as runners pass each other and bander shouts of encouragement at speed whilst trying to avoid going off the flags and into the morass! Into the descent and 3rd place became a possibity again. I took a wide line which avoids some of the boulder fields whereas Lee had retraced his upward steps and, suddenly, was just 30 yards to my left not 50 in front and, I could see, was hesitant to let loose on the steeps. I relaxed, played the risky trust game that the strong descenders do, let fly and went past into 3rd. The exhileration was short lived though, and going by how I'd felt on the last of the climbing up, I'd thought it might be! The little rise back up to the Scald just seemed to wring my legs totally dry of anything they had left and the descent momentum steadily descended! Lee was at my shoulder again and before long it was time for me to sportingly give him an egg-on as he went past, just as he had to me a minute or two earlier. After that I couldn't manage any last burst to catch up again, especially as the onset of blistering heels was pushing me onto my toes. A glance back and I saw that the followers were out of attacking range so I coasted the run in for the 4th place and a time of 57:18.
Well done all competitors.Thanks to Glenn and crew for the organisation. Funds raised went to Northumberland Search & Rescue and Help For Heroes. Prizes were donated by Glen's wife's business, The Chocolate Box, in Wooler. Full results usually appear before long on Northumberland Fell Runners website.
nb: Just for the record, I found out that Cheviot is 34th highest peak in England, 68th in UK, as well as being an extinct volcano- which we all knew anyway.
