Sunday 22 March 2015

Vikings Return



It was Justin's idea I got a text "would I be interested in being part of a Viking 4 Inns team once more?"

I said "all right then." I have been doing a little bit of late. If he had asked any other year in the last 20. I would have run to Buxton just to get away from the idea. Then it was done, my fate sealed, the trap sprung.

Jim Bunting joined us via Facebook and Richard a mate of Justin's made four, we had a team. A few more people were nearly shaken out of the tree to make a second team, but non quite fell all the way to the ground. There is always next year.

We managed a few collective training sessions, we all did a fair bit on our own, but we wouldn't have admitted to be over-prepared if interrogated.

Friday night I'm back in Holmbridge Parish hall after 25 years. Little has changed the faces behind the desks are mostly the same, older and greyer and perhaps a little more relaxed then in the past.

Myself and Jim manage a couple of hours sleep on the noisiest wooden floor in Yorkshire and at 4 we are up and eating breakfast. Justin and Richard roll in. Richard with all the team kit in his bag, I warm to him even more than on the last practice, when his obvious talent for covering ground quickly became apparent.

We pass though scrutineering with kit that would have been laughed out of town back in the day and with of all things trainers on our feet. Richard wearing god help us shorts, we set off.

We start off like loons over Back Hill, too much adrenalin and perfect weather making it too easy to start emptying the tank too early in the day. A team with a leader in running shorts and a vest pass us at a fair pace, their final team member losing contact at the back. They looked like contenders for a messy final third.

Common sense prevails over Bleaklow and we steady up a bit.  Jim demolishing Torside after having had a shocker three weeks ago and then beasting himself with hill intervals ever since. Adam Bleakman and his team pass us at a clip as we get to the watershed. As we descend into Doctors Gate maybe four teams have come past. The race is probably already over if everyone holds their pace for the rest of the day.

More supporters arrive, Ben Bellamy running his own small scale video production unit from a Mondeo. With twin cameras.

By the top of Seal Stones we are mentally over the hump and as I struggle to descend with knees that were never any good, the team with the man in the vest go past we must have passed them climbing Seal Stones.

Edale in just over 5 hours. Result we were aiming for 5 and a half. Ian Shaw high fives us into the checkpoint. We manage a brief pause to put water in our drinking bladders. I neck some Ibuprofen and we are off again. The sun is out now, the Great Ridge looks at its best and Chapel Hill is still longer than you remember, but it has an end. Jim is still holding his own on the hills, Richard is pulling away in front, not bad for a man with 10 kilos on his back and Justin's habit of coming good later in the day is repeating itself.

I'm still descending more like a feather than a lead balloon, but I manage to keep a running shuffle going all the way to Chapel, where three generations of team Prince are waiting, Justin and Richard's families wave from the pub. As I promised my family, I grimace, mutter hello, stuff two sandwiches in my gob and we head on. We are still running which is a first for me at this point in the day.

Whitehall comes and goes, the hill is a plod but I have felt worse going up it. The board confirms it at the checkpoint, only four teams ahead and we are still covering the ground. Richard dropping back to chat to me and Jim who are obviously feeling it now. I really struggle descending into the Goyt. My knees are pretty painful and Justin offers his bag carrying service. By Shooter's Clough his asking is more of a nag than keeping my pride intact. He has a point I am slowing up proceedings.

Justin gets two bags up Shooters Clough and by the top probably regrets it as I pull away from him, floating on air after losing my load. That 10 minute rest though was just the tonic and by the top of the ridge we are all running again. Suddenly getting close to or under 9 hours looks possible, Justin eggs us on and we decide to have a go. Peter is at the Cat along with many others, we manage a hand shake as we rush though and move at pace down to Derbyshire Bridge. Richard's heavy bag taking its toll as for the first and only time all day, he drops to the back.

We are soon over the world's stoniest road and dropping into Buxton, me faking a run and then trying to get back into contact with the other three. Then the end is in sight, we manage a sprint and finish in 9hours 11minutes, a PB for everyone. Not to shabby off a months training. Four hours from Edale, happy with that. We place 7 overall, if you had told me that was possible even at lunchtime in Edale I would have laughed in your face.

Thanks to everyone who turned out or supported us in any way. Thanks to Richard Dixson for a masterclass in ultra running. I think the world has a new honorary Viking.

Now wouldn't if be nice if there were to be more than one team next year. Maybe we could get a team in the top five or even on the podium? There are quite few of you out there with the right qualities. Some of you must have one more left in you?

Here is Ben's Video