White Peak Marathon

A marathon is a long race, this is a long report: you might need to have some gels handy to get through it…

I’d last run a marathon in the heat of Rotterdam 1987 and had not really considered it again since.  The more recent London exploits of Jim, Andy, Mike & co. sounded exciting but I wasn’t convinced I could do it.  The thought of grinding out 20 mile training runs on the road and nursing the injuries that might accompany them just didn’t appeal.  But then again the Lyme Park crew had shown me that there was nothing unnatural about running for over 2 hours across the hills on a Sunday morning.  Enter the White Peak : a marathon run completely on trails.  It was time to give it a go.

As we milled around the start the atmosphere was noticeably more Gun Run than FLM.  No TV celebs or starting pens here.  The officials concentrated on checking that the gates were open, pointing us in the right direction and clearing the sheep off the path. 

Looking at the times from 2006 I reckoned that I should be able to run with the leading group for at least 18 miles or until the wheels came off.  I felt confident that I could handle the steep descents in the last few miles if only I could reach that far.  So with a strong winds forecast my plan was to tuck in with a group running a steady pace and not stick my neck out till near the end.

The starting hooter sounded and I stepped into the lead behind the bike.  Gathering speed it was suspiciously quiet behind me but I didn’t feel to be moving so fast.  As I passed the first mile marker (about 6 mins) I looked around but there were no runners in sight.  At 2 miles I had a good look behind but again saw no one at all.  My watch showed that I wasn’t running a crazy pace but it looked like I was going to be on my own until they caught up and I’d blown my plan in the first 10 minutes.  But hey, the sun was shining, the path was smooth, moorland views were opening up nicely ahead and a nice chap on a bike was showing me the way. 

The first half of the route follows the Tissington Trail as it snakes up through the Derbyshire Dales to Parsley Hey.  Being a quality old railway line it doesn’t mess with the contours, carving its own gradual but relentlessly rising path through the hills.  As we climbed shady cuttings opened out into long exposed embankments.  The limestone trail was at times blindingly white in the sunshine and a strong cross wind had me clinging onto my vest and race number.

As we approached Parsley Hey the wind was more or less in my face but I was still running steadily towards a first half split of around 1:22.  At this point the race route doubles back on itself before turning off onto the High Peak Trail and I was looking forward to seeing some other runners at last.  Just past Parsley Hey the lead cyclist turned around and asked me rather hopefully if I knew where we should turn around.   Fortunately I just spied a bright green jacket a few hundred metres ahead and I suggested that he rode ahead to have a look.  Sure enough this was the turning point and making up for lost time I was probably looking relatively fresh as I faced my pursuers on the way back.  It was difficult to estimate but I seemed to have a lead of at least a minute.

I passed half way at Friden where the Half Marathon had started and ran steadfastly on, slowing only to lunch on muesli bar washed down with cups of local water.  The map shows this section undulating along the level but with a never-ending path stretched out in front and miles accumulating in my legs it felt like we were still climbing steadily.  I concentrated on moving smoothly and taking in the changing views as the miles ticked by. 

By 18 miles I could sense that I was slowing down but I figured that if I could keep to a 6:30 pace nobody could catch me without running a big negative split.  I focussed on the trail ahead counting down the miles until the promised descents.  At one point I ran through a tunnel and the change in light produced a strange feeling as if I was losing my balance.  For a moment I was also in danger of losing half a muesli bar that I’d just swallowed.  Escaping from the tunnel the first incline appeared: a fast run down loose gravel that was all too quickly over. 

Confident now of handling the descents I passed 22 miles and began to think that if I could hold it together I was going to win – and why not after running so far on my own?  Entering woodland I started down the rougher second incline carefully picking out a line to avoid too much braking that might cramp my quads.  A slight rise before 24 miles reduced me to a plod as the lead cyclist pointed out our destination near Cromford – but this still looked far, far away below us.  The final descent appeared and I thankfully eased into it, picking up speed past 25 miles and out onto the canal towpath.

Surely not far now but why was I running so slowly?  My legs felt OK but my mind was wandering.  There were some shouts from some spectators ahead.  I tried to look behind but nearly stumbled into the canal.  I finally realised that I wasn’t slowing down at all; it was just the lead bike speeding up as we approached the track down to the finish.  I was too tired for cartwheels but photos reveal an immodest amount of waving that may have lost a few seconds.  But I had won by over 4 minutes and taken 30 minutes off my 20 year old PB, a feat that I’m unlikely to repeat in a hurry.

I didn’t have long to wait for Ian running in comfortably for an excellent 3:05 especially considering his taper had included by sprinting most of group 2 at the Shady Oak only a couple of days before.  Gavin who’d decided to run more or less on the spur of the moment completed the Wilmslow dream team and we duly picked up the team prize.  Ian was particularly pleased with the successful raid on his old hometown.  We felt altogether less smug as we commenced the challenge of getting up out of the comfy chairs and walking across the carpark.  Fortunately Emma Smallwood, who had earlier provided stalwart support at various points, was on hand to transport our stiff legs back to Wilmslow.

1 Rob Downs 2:48:30

9 Ian Smallwood 3:05:13

34 Gavin Mendham 3:26:21

Full results at: http://www.matlockac.org.uk/results/2007/wpm07.pdf

Local press report: http://www.matlocktoday.co.uk/sport?articleid=2898429

Seeing as you’ve read this far here are my splits:

1              06:00        00:06:00

2              06:11        00:12:11

3              06:08        00:18:19

4              06:29        00:24:48

5              06:23        00:31:11

6              06:20        00:37:31

7              06:15        00:43:46

8              06:14        00:50:00

9              06:39        00:56:39

10             06:25        01:03:04

11             06:29        01:09:33

12             06:02        01:15:35

13             06:08        01:21:43

14             06:08        01:27:51

15             06:22        01:34:13

16             06:21        01:40:34

17             06:35        01:47:09

18             06:36        01:53:45

19             06:38        02:00:23

20             06:40        02:07:03

21             06:47        02:13:50

22             06:29        02:20:19

23             06:42        02:27:01

24             06:46        02:33:47

25             06:30        02:40:17

26             06:47        02:47:04

26.2          01:26        02:48:30