Posts Tagged With: Helvellyn

Well that was one hellofarun up Helvellyn! Lakeland Trails Dirty Double Helvellyn 10k 2017

Digested read:  my the Lakes are lovely.  My TomTom didn’t work which means no Strava so technically I suppose this entire weekend of running never happened, starting with the Saturday.  Oh well, worse things happen at the seaside.  The run was lovely but quite rocky. Smilies are lovely and they rock too.  We get to do it all again tomorrow.  Hurrah!

You can see how lovely we are here.  The shot is courtesy of the fine photographer man James who took heaps of amazing shots throughout the weekend. This is quite brilliant, as it means we can browse the photos and relive fond memories of the runs at will.  So, as I was saying, here we are:

gaggle of smileys

And that photo isn’t even half of us.  About 70 of us made it up to the Lakes for this epic running weekend put on by the Lakeland Trails team – in fact it is the weekend finale for a whole season of trail running adventures.  If you don’t know what it is, it’s basically a choice of four events over two days.  You can choose just to run one, or two – hence dirty double, or if you are a Smiley on a mission you can get really filthy and do all four. Smilies have been patronising this event for a while now, so the event organisers though perplexed, will indulge outliers by letting them enter whatever they want, after all a fool and their money are easily parted are happy to cater for bespoke arrangements given sufficient notice.   I’d like to be able to make the point that this privilege was restricted to Smiley Paces participants only as a sort of VIP service in recognition of our unique awesomeness.  Alas, I can’t really. It’s true the offer wasn’t disseminated more widely, but I strongly suspect that is a reflection on lack of other takers rather than Smiley exclusivity. Who cares. Smilies are a rare breed all the same! Go us.  Or go them, the fabulous filthy four people, not me obviously. I mean why would I?  Here they are though, for ease of reference.  Maybe a somewhat manic look in their eyes, but I don’t think the lay person could necessarily tell by looking just how suggestible they all are.  Maybe a hypnotherapist would know?  I must ask my carpet cleaner.  He did a weight-loss hypnotherapy group session and it was really good apparently, well worth the minor inconvenience of having to bring your own duvet.   Lost loads of weight with no effort since.  His insight on how it works is that hypnotherapists can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do anyway, but they can sort of help trigger the will power to do so.  Even so, it seems to me strange how this quartet was running but the person whose bright idea it was to demand such an offering was mysteriously ‘otherwise engaged’.  Definitely dark arts at work there somewhere.   Oh well, ours is not to reason why….

Filthy Foursome

I was going along for two times 10k, one on the Saturday and one on the Sunday, involving a boat, a steamer to be precise.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  As far as Saturday goes, the Lakeland Trails website blah de blah about this event says:

Lakeland Trails in Helvellyn, Saturday 14th October 2017

Starting and finishing at Jenkins Field (CA11 OUS), on the shores of Ullswater in Glenridding, the NEW! 5km Helvellyn Sport Trail, 10km Helvellyn Trail Run, 15km Helvellyn Trail Race and 15km Helvellyn Trail Challenge follow circuits along well marked and marshalled footpaths and bridleways that take you into the foothills of Helvellyn, with elevated panoramic views of Ullswater, and dramatic vistas of Helvellyn and the surrounding peaks. Underfoot conditions are generally good for those used to off road running, but can be tricky in places.

A carnival atmosphere is guaranteed for both spectators and competitors, with live music, race commentary, food and drink all available at the start and finish. So, whether you’re new to trail running, an experienced athlete, or simply looking for an unforgettable day out in the Lake District, a family-friendly, festival atmosphere and some amazing trail running awaits you!

You can enter and find out more about each event here.

Fancy combining it with the Ullswater event the day after? You can enter the ‘Dirty Double’ weekend here.

Doesn’t that all sound lovely. But first things first.  Got to get to the start line from the dorm first of all.

sleep well

To be fair. The accommodation was good, even though there were eight of us to a dorm it is spacious, but I just don’t sleep well with other people in the room.  It’s not so much that I’m disturbed by then. Quite the opposite, I seem to spend the whole night in that half-awake half-asleep twilight zone fearing dropping off too deeply in case I snore like a train and wake everyone else up. I have been told on different occasions that I’m ‘completely silent’ and ‘oops, yep, bit noisy there to be honest’, so I suppose the truth is somewhere in between.  Even so, I’d hate to be driven out of the Smilies by secret ballot for anti social nocturnal habits not of my choosing.   Or worse yet, suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, manifested in averted eyes, spotting groups whispering in corners that fall silent as I pass. The shaking of heads, the pitying looks.  Smilies are too nice to be horrible to me because of any such failing, but I’d feel the burden of shame for having let everyone down. PBs missed because of collective sleep deprivation that was all my fault.  No wonder I can’t sleep in a dorm.  It’s a nightmare.  Ironically, because even with a nightmare you’d get some kip.

Then there’s the ‘I’m bound to need to get up for  a pee‘ angst, the horror of which was massively exacerbated by being a dorm with the squeakiest and bangiest door known to human kind. FACT.  Once I’ve had that thought, speaking personally, it is just a question of how long I can reasonably hold out before giving in to the inevitable.  I did have to get up in the night twice, and yes, it was just me.  I am clearly inadequate as a human being.  And even then there is the question of are you better off fumbling in the dark and risking even more banging about or falling over and on top of a slumbering running mate or do you risk sending a shaft of torch-light onto your dorm buddies even though the beam might cause them to recoil and vaporise into dust.  I decided not to take the risk.  I was quite near the door anyway, so that was OK.

Morning came, ready or not.  I gathered up my gear and forlornly looked at my TomTom which had chosen this day of all days to go blank.  It’s never done that before, and I stupidly hadn’t brought my charger with me as it only works through my laptop – which I also hadn’t bought) and I’d fully charged it before coming.  A hard lesson to learn.  Lovely smilies various did offer up tomtom chargers, but they seem to have new models, it was to no avail.  Tragedy. La la la la, it’s a tragedy. Etc.  Naked running for me this weekend then.

 

Amazingly, even though there was only two showers for a squillion people I managed to get one.  It was hot, but only a trickle, still, at least I turned up fresh at the start, I don’t know that everyone else did. It’s not good when you have to do a DIY sniff test in the event HQ field at the start.  Fortunately, we are all too polite and comradely to draw attention to any such miscreant behaviour at the time.  Much better to passive aggressively mention it in a blog post later on say, and make out that no-one else within the Smiley tribe has ever been guilty of such an act pre or post chosing of kit for a run.  I think so anyway, and I’m sure you have no reason to doubt me.  You can see I was particularly poker faced about the whole thing at the time.  Why would I lie after the event?

RW sniff test

The shower bit was a win, but the general trauma of having to navigate a multitude of micro human interaction on waking,  including breakfast was positively terrifying.  After a number of false starts and being thwarted by the enormous pillar which takes up about 50% of the floor space in the communal kitchen and yet lacks a sign to indicate which is the correct way to go round it (I begin to understand why roundabouts in the UK are so confusing to those who are not previously acquainted with them). Eventually I found a corner on a table near another shell-shocked looking Smiley who appeared to be manifesting a similar stress response to situation. We ‘no speaking or even eye contact pre my first cup of tea’ people intuitively can recognise and find each other.  We exchanged brief knowing looks and then sat in comfortable silence at opposite ends of the table ignoring one another. That true camaraderie when you need it.

Post tea and porridge, which was OK, but not as nice as at home in my own microwave in my own bowl, back to the dorm and communal decision making procedures regarding ‘what to wear’. Long sleever or short sleeve?  Will there be a water station (nope).  Shoes, which shoes?  An extra layer of interest was the inspection of a room buddy’s blister. It’s not so much a blister in the traditional sense, in that it exceeds the surface area of a conventional compeed plaster, the large ones.  It was such a significant expanse that a veritable collage of compeeds were required to cover the area. Think decoupage, or is it décolletage, I can never remember.  It was very impressive though. But that too threw up more potential for concern. What if the extent of the plastering makes the shoes too tight?  Nightmare. I may have been without my TomTom but at least my feet were currently unblistered.  Count what blessings you can people.  Take nothing for granted. Nothing I tell you.

After communal faffing had run its course, we started to head off for the morning. Well, those of us doing the 10k did, the others who’d opted for the 15km in the afternoon, well I’m not sure what they did, just didn’t I suppose.  Not until later.  They were probably still drinking gin, or maybe foam rollering, I have no idea.

It was ridiculously exciting walking down to the start.  It was unexpectedly warm, light drizzle made rainbows over head and it was just gorgeous.  This is an obscenely beautiful part of the world, it really, really is.  There was a lot of water, flooding threatening to lap across the road in place, picturesque scenes and distinctive characters along the way.  Also, some very well hung young rams.  You couldn’t really not notice to be fair.  Rather unusual colour too I thought.  The wool that is, not the sheep’s tackle, I wasn’t going in for that close an inspection. Fixing the ‘caution runners’ sign on a bus stop struck me as a cruel irony, but there you go.

We got to registration a bit after 9.45 I think (our race started at 11.00 a.m.).  The event HQ was all a bustle and very jolly in my view.  The location is absolutely stunning, with boats in the water, fantastic mountain views all around and shafts of light coming through dramatic clouds to light autumnal trees in vivid golds and oranges was like a wonderland.

There were boards with lists of runners, and a course outline, you had to find your number and then join the relevant queue.  We picked up numbers and were issued with ankle tags.  I wasn’t clever enough to work out how to put this on unaided.  To be fair, I think it did require training to become adept at this. Once you know it’s easy enough but it wasn’t obvious immediately.  Maybe it would be to those used to being electronically tagged but that didn’t apply to me. Also I have tiny ankles.  No I really do.  I just looked needy until someone offered assistance, by which I mean they did it for me. Thanks Cheetah buddy. Then minutes later I brazenly helped someone else with what I hoped was the sort of confident and authoritative approach that suggested I’d known all the time and was massively competent at this whole race prep malarkey.  Pretty sure I pulled that off.  She had to help  me pin my number on straight though, so I it seems I am still ‘work in progress’ regarding my safety-pin use NVQ.  One day I’ll get there maybe, if I really try to apply myself…

Numbers on, baggage dropped, there was plenty of time to go for an explore. There were lots of loos, but alas they were not quite like the luxury portaloos in attendance at the Sheffield TenTenTen last weekend.  At least one Smiley, who shall be nameless was horrified by them.  It is true, it was something of an act of faith to take a pew over the open-pit below, there was no discrete barrier between yourself and the effluent of a thousand previous runners.  You do have a somewhat irrational fear of falling in, but given I can hardly climb into a hoop these days it’s fairly low risk I’ll plummet down a toilet bowl.  Brilliant for the comedic value of hearing about the outrage of an exiting Smiley declaiming at inappropriate volume ‘never have I seen so much shit!  I have had to perform on someone elses shit! Can you believe the shit in there!’ and so on. Bit of a theme there.  I’m more of a half full person myself. At least we had the loos, and to be fair they were most definitely at least half full.  Still, it’s good that Smilies speak their mind, you know where you stand then don’t you? …  Or nervously squat depending on the context.

obligatory loo shot

 

It was pretty much idyllic if you stopped looking down the loos and instead took the time to look up at the sky.  A rainbow, absent Smiley smiling down on us we like to think 🙂

Absent friends

Naturally, the setting required lots of photos and the taking of a great many selfies, as well as asking for outside assistance for group shots.  Handily, the jauntily legged photographer was obligingly taking loads of awesome photos and happy to help us too.  He took this one of me.

smiley view point

At the time I was taking this picture I think:

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He wins with his shot.  Not only because it has the captivating image of a Smiley within it.  He got my best side too.  I have a feeling he may have taken photos before.  We got him to take one of me and Cheetah Buddy, contemplating the muddy road ahead, but that is still to come, meantime here is one my Dig Deep buddy took of us instead.

get a grip eh

Nice photography man James Jumpy Kirby also had the best leggings ever.  A bespoke item of couture that is genuinely unique. I had running kit envy I will admit. Still, it’s not a look everyone can carry off, so maybe the world has been spared the sight of me flaunting them in public.

Anyways, after our private photo shoot, he said he was seeking a smiley group shot, so I undertook to try to corral as many as I could.  It’s not an easy task, but I achieved moderate success.  Unbelievably, this picture is only half of us who went for the weekend.  It is quite extraordinary when you think about it, that 75 individuals would make the collective trip from Sheffield to Glen Ridding for this weekend away.  It makes my heart swell with pride to be part of this amazing group of women. Smiley Paces solidarity and support is remarkable, infectious and life-affirming.  Go Smilies indeed.  We can be a force for good in this world collectively, we really can. Or at least have a lot of laughs along the way, which amounts to the same thing.

VP milling

It is a rare thing indeed for me to be in a Smiley group shot, as usually I haven’t got back in time from the run to join the after snaps, so this picture makes me especially happy.

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Then there was lots more chilling and milling and chatting and selfie taking as we made our own entertainment before the off.

As the starting time drew nearer the atmosphere built. There were drummers!

drummers drumming

Instant party, I’d have been up for strutting some funky stuff, but alas, didn’t realise the party was happening elsewhere until later. Still, there’s always next year I suppose….  I’ll know who to hang out with for the ‘dance like no one is watching‘ detail.   Happy to embrace being a part of that.   I really liked the drummers, I think they would be a boon at any event.  Note to self, must tell Round Sheffield Run people.  They can’t rest on their organisational laurels for ever.  A small army of drummers is clearly the way forward for future event village entertainment innovations.

party on

I’m not sure they should have been displaying this disinhibition quite so close to the baggage sign however. Bit of feedback for you for next time perhaps?

baggage

You’re welcome.

Eventually, the shout went us to get us to the start funnel, and there was a cheery count down to awf!

starting line up

It was fun yomping off across the grass. Music was playing, there were some supporters lining the route.  It was all very good-natured.  We yomped back on ourselves round the field, and then quick bolt across the road past waving marshals, and soon we were heading up hill. I don’t know why it is that I continue to be caught out ever single time I do an event by two particular things which are annoyingly commonplace, ubiquitous even. Firstly, you are expected to run! Right from the start.  No really you are.  And secondly, that it often necessitates running up hill.  Despite the alluring vision of the gorgeous mountains all around us, I still felt the element of surprise as the realisation dawned that we were being required to run up one of them.

I tried my best I really did. The surface under foot was quite hard for me.  I love my innov8 parkclaws but their cushioning is limited. The path was stones, and fractured rocks.   Often running with water.  Very little mud actually, and the first part was really a grit path.

One boon about a mass Smiley presence at an event, is that rather like rats in a city, you are never far from a Smiley on a run.  This is mostly fine, but it does mean you get caught out slacking rather quickly.  Quite a few overtook me early on, but I think I blagged it OK, but explaining I was just waiting for them to catch up with me so I knew they were ok and then I’d  let them get ahead a bit so I’d have something to chase. They are bound to have believed that line aren’t they?  A trusting lot Smilies, not infected with the bitter cynicism that generally infuses me.  I can use their good naturedness as cover for my dark inner soul, so that’s good.

The hill went up and up. One car cautiously pushed through down the road –  I think it was probably full of other runners going down to register for the afternoon race. They waved at us cheerily as they crept by.  I was naked running without my Tomtom so had no idea what was going on.  I don’t really think I look at my watch when I run, but I like to have it so I can see retrospectively the route and elevation.  However, I’d forgotten that my TomTom vibrates every mile, and that’s really good for knowing how far you’ve gone and how far you’ve still to go. It was weird having absolutely no idea of time or distance that had passed, especially on a completely unknown route.  Still, Smiley buddies in abundance helped rally the weak:

en route somewhere

There was lots to look at to distract me though. There was the cowbell ringing marshal, some random guests at a cottage en route, laughing in disbelief but cheering with enthusiasm as we sped (ahem) by.

One passer-by saw me slurping from my water bottle and thought I was having a drag on an e-cigarette mid race.  Not an easy mistake to make.  I think from his tone he was more impressed than judgemental to be fair!

Onward I went, trying not to be discouraged by sight of runners other side of gushing torrent of a stream, high up on the hill, snaking across the mountain side like a trail of soldier ants.

They looked amazing though, like a stretch of colourful bunting flags draped across the mountain side:

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We carried on alongside a bulging stream that raged past in a positive torrent. Then over a little bridge and turning back, but along the steep and rocky mountain path.  It was very beautiful, but extremely wet.  Running water basically.  As I pushed onwards, cautiously, I met a fellow Smiley turning back as vertigo had got the better of her.  A DNF is always a sad, sad thing, but we had plenty of photos early on so that’s a run really is it not?  And a DNF is way better than a ‘fell off the cliff edge’ or ‘remains frozen to the spot on a mountain ledge three days later’ which are the alternative options as I understand it.

The really narrow steep bit had to be picked through at a walk.  This was companionable, as you could chit-chat a bit with other runners as you were practically stationary anyway.  I met again the nice lady I’d been talking to in the loo queue earlier.

Then there was the super friendly marshal with his hi-vis wearing sheep who was a personal favourite of mine going round. That’s really making an effort marshaling wise isn’t it?

high vis sheep

 

It was pretty steep to be fair. Some runners ahead were holding bits of bracken for reassurance as they crept along.  Not sure that having your fingertips gripping the end of a frond of bracken would offer much in the way of brakes in the event of a fall, but it seemed to bring psychological comfort, so that’s grand!  This runner looks like he was managing without hanging onto foliage as he ran, but you can see some of the lovely colours of the burnt orange autumnal bracken, and that’s the main thing.  Obvs.

burnt orange bracken

As I yomped onwards, alas I came upon a sorry sight.  Two of the fearsome filthy foursome smilies had abandoned their run and were with an injured participant. They were walking her down, trying to cheerily chat with her having got her nicely wrapped up in a foil blanket. She’d had a bad fall and rather spectacularly broken her wrist.  I offered help but was assured there wasn’t much I could do beyond making sure the marshals ahead were aware of what had happened, which they should have been already.  It did feel wrong leaving them, but logic dictated there was no point in me staying too.  It was a harsh reminder of the need to respect the environment, and how quickly you can get cold if you  do have to slow or stop.  I decided to concentrate a bit more and left off taking so many pictures until the terrain was a bit more predictable.

Marshals came and went, views were consistently spectacular and the wind picked up and dropped. Water continued to gush from everywhere, like running across the deck of a sinking ship maybe… bolts flying out of the wood as the water pressure builds and the boards awash with white water.

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Ahead of me other running buddies were also pausing for selfies and nearly stepping backwards off the edge – how I laughed!  I shouldn’t really can end badly like that poor student at the Seven Sisters cliff edge the other week…  I did offer to take a photo for them too, before skipping onward myself, past the teasingly positioned bench placed at a handy view-point, daring any runner to stop and soak up the scene in favour or running onwards….

selfie buddies

Finally we started to descend. There was a brief interlude along a nice bit of woodland track before ae tell-tale but appreciated ‘Smile’ sign so you know what’s coming.

Quick pause to hoik my knickers and put my camera away so I could look ‘natural’ running round the corner and into frame …  I think I cracked it.  It’s all too easy for the shallow, ignorant and ill-informed to ridicule the running style of others.  I find levitating the more challenging sections of terrain reduces the chance of concussion related running injuries.  I do concede looking around seven years old as a consequence is an unfortunate side effect, but we runners are prepared to make sacrifices to achieve results.  Just so you know:

LT me levitating again

Whilst I went for the nonchalant and unaffected running look, others with more exhibitionist tendencies shamelessly played to the camera. There were a few contenders for the ‘seen a photographer’ award but these are my personal favourites.  I particularly like the departure from convention with the jumping with poles shot, the artistic challenge to conventional boundaries in personal space where the guy leans in to the photographer daring him to hold his nerve and the team shot. Glorious. Bravo all of you, and thanks to everyone who made the effort on the day.  Was great fun choosing my favourites, a fact which I’m sure will please you one day, if you ever get to give it even a moment’s thought in passing.

Obviously, Smiley Club members were all hard-core runners speeding by with awesome running form. Look at them go. It is a fact doing jazz hands makes you go faster, so does smiling and waving, that’s why we are all so awesome in our running performances:

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Run shots secured, the end of the run came quickly.  More cheery marshals and we were onto a section of road.

Up until this point I’d been running with two other women who I’d assumed to be friends what with their raucous laughter and joint selfie taking on the way round (women after my own heart).  However, as soon as we got onto the rough tarmac, one runner shot ahead abandoning her running buddy entirely calling out by way of explanation  ‘she’s a pain in the neck‘ as she did so.  I was shocked, and looked it. I mean only minutes earlier we were all looking out for each other – she even alerted me to the fact I’d got a bit of mud on my legs going round at one point.  That was sporting.

DSCF9350

She repeated ‘she’s a pin in her leg’ it means I stay with her when the ground’s uneven but she’ll be Ok now’.  Oh Ok. That made more sense.  We all found our own rhythm and were soon separated once again.

There followed a bit of road running, never my forte, but I had to abandon all hope of slacking off as I espied woodrun leaders walking in nonchalantly.  The more naive Smiley may have thought they were there to offer support, and indeed they attempted to support this cover story by clapping and cheering as I passed – but I suspect we woodrunners were just under surveillance.  Those accelerate spies are everywhere!

DSCF9324

A band of other Smilies were along the path and lined up to give me a high-five en masse.  Love Smilies.  They were horrified that I wanted to stop and photograph them afterwards though. Different priorities I suppose…

Suddenly the end was in sight. over the road, down the tunnel of innovate flags, arms outstretched for a glorious finish..,

RW me running in

What a misdirection of effort that was!  It wasn’t the finish at all, we were made to do an extra keyhole shaped loop round the field and back on ourselves which nearly ruddy killed me. I had to hide briefly behind the tree at the far point so I could get my breath back before coming back round to the finish tunnel.  I think I got away with it, phew…  That was a nasty surprise though.  I thought the hill at the end of the Wingerworth Wobble was bad, but at least we were forewarned about that! This was finish route by subterfuge.  Not good!

Oh well, it was worth it, cheered in, and into the arms of welcoming marshals to relieve you of your tag and placate you with a T-shirt.  It was green this time, different for each race.  This is an acceptable colour I think, though I have a great many race T-shirts I’ve never been brave enough to wear in public due to their fluorescent overtones. The lime green Sheffield Half T-shirt being particularly vile even amongst the vile.  TenTenTen from 2016 is probably the best.

Into the tent to get my bag and jumper and there to my surprise and delight I encountered the two saviour smilies who’d walked down with the fallen.

DSCF9332

They’d pretty much had to come the whole way down, but then were able to race to finish.  TEchnically not the intended route, but well deserved.  Hurrah!  No need to write an article for Runner’s World explaining why methinks. I was delighted because I was worried they’d still be stuck out there waiting for mountain rescue and miss out on the chance to belt round the Filthy Four.  They were in surprisingly good spirits, so that was fine.

RW smiley saviours

I commiserated with them that they maybe hadn’t had the race they’d wished for.  This got onto the topic of ‘really annoying things other people do at races’.  Apparently, one of the worst things for one of these two, is someone running with loose change in their pockets, jingling away.  Capital offence at least in terms of its annoyingness.  This neatly segued into my suggestion of cheering the mood by indulging in ‘fantasy rage scenarios’ i.e. when you fondly imagine what you would have done if only it were possible, socially acceptable and/or legal.  Or at the very least you thought you’d get away with it undiscovered.  To my extreme disappointment, they initially misjudged my suggestion, taking it to be the altogether nicer ‘let’s change the subject’ and talk of ‘Fantasy Race Scenarios’.  As if that would be any good when you need to allow a fellow human being the catharsis of expressing their rage. Besides, we already have a fantasy race in the form of the aforementioned Round Sheffield Run – though even that could be improved with more unicorns and rainbows (which I’ve fed back every year to a wall of silence) and the attendance of a band of drummers.   I soon put her right, and we had a great time thinking of appropriate ways to act out ire.  It’s not appropriate to go into them all here, but the notion that loose change in a pocket might spontaneously heat up into liquid metal, run down the legs and reform into an ankle shackles was pleasing.  It would have the added bonus of preventing offenders from running onwards, so very practical also.  I was very glad to be able to drag down my fellow smilies to my pond life levels of social interaction.   My work is done.

By now I was feeling the cold, so I just cheered a few last runners in, and then began the walk home with two of my car share buddies.   We were in dire need of coffee, but decided to walk towards the Youth hostel to find some, rather than get further away into town where to be fair the options were much better but it would take longer to get back and changed.  The options weren’t many, but we found a post office come shop that sold pretty much everything, including surprisingly serviceable coffee, which you bought in the store and sat and drank in a sort of converted garage space next door.  Not the most salubrious of surroundings but acceptable all the same.

Coffee drunk, back to the hostel where we cleaned off our shoes and left them in the ironically titled drying room. To be fair it was warm in there, but nothing really seemed to dry. I suppose it was a tall order given the number of soaked items of footwear festooned around.  Enough to cure a shoe fetishist by sensory overload surely?

KH shoes

I was very glad of a hot shower whether just a dribble or not.  Lunch was bread and cheese and peanut butter yum. Then a snooze, pleasantly interrupted at intervals by returning smilies who could regale me with their adventures from the day.  There may have been a little bit of opportunistic T-shirt stroking as well now I come to think of it.  Well, it was a Les Brutelles one, you have to don’t you?

T shirt covetousness

In the evening it was one mass communal meal.  A practical option, if not the most inspired of menus.  Then there was chatting, sharing stories and general spreading of Smiley good will.  I opted for an earlyish night and dorm chats like a sleepover for grown ups, others revelled through to the small hours having come supplied. And quite right too!  I’m sure gin counts as a carb, and carbing up was needed if you were doing it all again come the morrow.

food for weekend

So that was it for Saturday.  For the morning runners anyway.  Other runners were available, there was a veritable plague of Smilies out on them there hills at times!  Even with some disguising themselves in mufti, we were still a force to be reckoned with, although thankfully a benign one in the main.

I’m not really fussed about times but full 2017 Helvellyn results are here for those of you who mind about or even notice such details.

Oh, and as for the route?  Well, as you know I had an epic fail where route recording is concerned so I’ve had to steal a Strava screen shot from a woodrun buddy – frankly from my point of view it’s  probably a blessing not to have my noticeably less impressive rendering of the route posted on-line for posterity.  Hopefully casual readers will assume this is me. Massively improving my running recently.  Inspirational stuff even.  Go me!  Don’t let on dear reader, please don’t…

Helvellyn route Lakes Dirty Double

It was actually a bit short of 10k, coming in at 5.3 miles (don’t know what that is in kilometers and can’t be bothered to google it) with 1,074 ft of elevation. So now you know.

Run one down.  And  you know what. It was glorious.  Tomorrow, you get to do it all again.  Fabulousness upon fabulousness, how lucky are we.

So exciting.

So well done Smiley Buddies one and all.  This going en masse to the Lakes malarkey is a very fine thing indeed.   How lucky are we to have one who moves amongst us willing to put in the work to make it so.  Smiley Magic Maker – we salute you!

Smiley magic maker

Who knows what tomorrow may bring… patience people, the time will come!

For all my Lakeland Trails related posts, click here and scroll down for older entries.

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Dirty Double Dispatches Direct from the DD Devastated Dropout :(

It should have been me!   I should have been here.  Curses.

Call it a ‘conscious uncoupling’ if you will, but the bottom line is I didn’t make it through the Darwinian selection process that had to be negotiated to make it even to the start line of the Lakeland Trails Dirty Double  this weekend.  You know the science, survival of the fittest and all that.  I failed. I am gutted.  Seriously gutted.  I really wanted to do this race, albeit as much for the social smiley takeover angle  as the actual running bit.  It is a measure of the extent of my mid-life crisis and/or evidence of how I must surely be a victim of alien abduction – what other possible explanation can there be as to how my sense of self has been so altered over time that I actually shed tears of frustration and disappointment about not making it away this November weekend to run around a lot in the cold.  Only a few short decades ago I went to quite considerable lengths to avoid any sporting endeavour, including regularly getting ‘lost’ between the changing rooms and playing fields whilst at school.  An act with which I can only assume my PE teacher enthusiastically colluded with, as I never once got caught.  How times change.  Now I feel deprivation and paranoia.  Why can’t I go?  It’s not fair?  Let me go and play on the fells?  Everyone else is going – why not me? Fortunately, I may be shite at running, but I can lay on a pretty darned indulgent pity party, so all was not lost!

pain-of-not-running

I am fully aware of the ludicrousness of all of this.  I know other far more serious runners who have been thwarted in far more important running endeavours, but I suppose up until now I’ve been relatively lucky.  Spared injuries by my risk averse running techniques I’ve not really ever had to miss an event before, I can usually yomp round somehow.  Even if I don’t participate either with glory or dignity than at least I do so with a reasonable degree of confidence I’ll make it to the end eventually. I’m not even injured for goodness sake, just picked up some grim viral thing which has made me metamorphose from being an inspirational running blogger (ahem) into some sort of deeply unpleasant hybrid between a sweat-fountain and a phlegm factory.  One that can’t breathe to boot.  All of this is incompatible with being seen in public or walking to the chemist, let alone running anywhere or sharing a dorm.  So it is, rather late in the day and probably for the first time, I’ve come to fully appreciate it isn’t making it to the end of the race that is the real challenge, sometimes it’s just making it to the start.  For me, this weekend, in that respect, epic fail.

get-to-start

It seems that no sooner than I got my unlikely London Marathon Place, I’ve been plagued by illness.  This is doing nothing for my survivor guilt I don’t mind telling you.  Consequently,   I’m doing my training in reverse, almost completed my four-week taper with significant front loading in the carbing up strategy as a consequence of comfort eating.  At this rate, when my health is finally restored I’m going to have to start from scratch.  Fortunately though, today I saw by chance an episode of ‘This time next year‘ and people were telling Davina about the unlikely things they’d accomplish over the next 12 months, and what’s more apparently doing them.  (I imagine they edited out all the no-hopers/losers but let’s not dwell on that).  I hang on to the notion that I still do have time, worse things have happened to other people, especially at sea, and maybe, just maybe, this conscious uncoupling is all for the best….  It was my decision to pull out, but it was a bitter choice to make all the same.  Sometimes doing the right thing is hard, but I’m in it for the long game with my running journey (I was going to say ‘career’ but that is stretching the truth too far even for me!)

So, what is it that I’ve missed out on and why?   Are you insane?  I’m missing EVERYTHING, my life is now ruined.  I’m missing out on:

  • a fab run in the Lakes (twice – a 15k round Helvellyn and another 14 k round Ullswater);
  • a boat trip with music accompaniement;
  • hanging out with awesome women for a wise-cracking weekend;
  • the retrospective hilarity of forced communal living;
  • porridge prepared and served as if ambrosia for the gods;
  • fabulous scenery;
  • limitless amusing anecdotes;
  • carrying out ethnographic research/ method acting techniques in preparation for my forthcoming running-themed murder mystery novel;
  • pasta and prosecco parties;
  • material for my running blog post finale.  A write up of this event was to be my last post pre-departure for new lands and new adventures overseas.  Curses.  No chance that could happen now.

More specifically, for those of you who haven’t been concentrating, this is/was to be basically a weekend in the lovely Lake District that offers up a smorgasbord of trail races over two consecutive days.  You can choose from a 10k or 15/14k done as a ‘race’ or as a ‘challenge’ (same route, more time to complete).  All in an awesome location, with Saturday being based round Helvellyn, and the Sunday around Ullswater – including a boat ride with a musical accompaniment.  I don’t think there was karaoke or requests as such, but jolly appealing all the same…

the-pleasure-boat

An advance party of Smiley Paces scouts went off last year and had a lovely time – albeit much of the pleasure was retrospective.  They experienced apocalyptic weather conditions but pulled through with the sort of camaraderie that is only generated through shared experiences of adversity and too much prosecco (or gin).  Consequently, these pathfinders pronounced the event to be overall both anecdote generating and memorable.  A plan was hatched.  Next year (which is this, now indeed in November 2016) the whole Smiley Paces club membership should decamp en masse.  Patterdale YHA was to be commandeered, and a whole new Smiley Race Tradition born.  A Smiley Takeover of the Lakeland Trails with some considerable style and  pizzazz (a word which I’ve just looked up to check for its official definition to find it means: an attractive combination of vitality and glamour – how apt).  What could possibly go wrong?

patterdale-youth-hostel

Well, actually, quite a lot.   Despite some initial apprehension, I took the plunge and signed up months ago and had been really looking forward to this for a variety of reasons, not all related to running.  There was the whole physical challenge bit of course, the trails are set against a stunning backdrop, but more so, the appeal was for a mass outing in a gorgeous location, and a big positive and supportive Smiley Party.   I’ve only once before in my life been on a mass takeover of a Youth Hostel.  It was a New Year Party and we went to a remote loch side location somewhere in Scotland.  It was a surreal experience.  I didn’t know everyone in advance, but it made for quite an intense and memorable weekend, albeit one during which I had at times felt trapped with unstable others.  There is a reason why contemporary horror films always commence with a scene which demonstrates there is no longer a mobile signal available and you are surrounded by impenetrable forest.   It gave me the idea that it would be great sometime to write maybe a murder mystery based around such a premise – you know the type of thing, dark nights, no mobile reception; inclement weather and lost on them there hills.  Patterdale YHA and a bunch of unknowing Smilies would be the perfect way to do some background research for this project.  Jessica Fletcher does it all the time, and she’s a great role model.

Unfortunately, I’m not very good at coming up with plot, so I was thinking I’d have to adopt a method acting type approach in search of material – you know, experiencing it all for real in the name of authenticity.  Regrettably therefore, had I attended, there would have had to have been a couple of unexpected murders, or near misses at the very least, but I like to think this sort of collateral damage would have been a sacrifice worth making to help bring my best-selling page turner to fruition at some future date.  I’d donate some of the profits to further Sheffield Running initiatives in general and Smiley Paces endeavours in particular obviously, so that commitment to stumping up some blood money would make it all legitimate I’m sure.  Even if some are a bit less than sold on the idea, I’m sure slaughtering another runner in the name of art would be less anti-social than not washing for 3 months say, which is another illustration of (admittedly pointless) method acting in action.

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Sooo, everything to run for.  Except, as the time drew near, I was ill.  It was quickly apparent I wasn’t going to be well enough to do the 15k /14k  distances.  I began by contacting the race organisers to see if I could swap to the 10K (they said possibly, but only on the day as the participant lists had already been finalised), but as the days ticked by I realised I’d have to cry off.  Still, ill wind as the saying goes, I missed out on doing the method based research for my trail-running themed murder mystery, but on the plus side, everyone made it back alive… this time.

Nevermind, it was the only realistic option, armed with lemsip and a newly acquired inhaler, I could enjoy the event vicariously.  If I’d thought of it, I’d even have got myself a white cat to stroke whilst I observed it all unfold in front of me.  After all, it was more fun  than expected watching the olympics and Paralympics and I didn’t get my act together to enter those, so I’d just have to stalk the pilgrims that made it to the Patterdale rendezvous and experience the event through their eyes and my diseased and misinformed imaginings.

As for now not being able to do a post on the Dirty Double on account on not actually being there.  Well, sod that.  One should never let the truth get in the way of a good story, it might even be an advantage not having to nod too much to accuracy. It certainly helped with the write up of the Inaugural Doggy Dash 2017.  I’ll have a stab at it (though I’m not committing to using that as the murder weapon in the final version, running spikes or a moved checkpoint might be just as fatal when strategically utilised, you’ll have to wait and see….)

So back to bearing witness to the events of this glorious weekend as they unfolded.

It seemed as if even getting to the venue, let alone the start-line was rather more challenging than originally anticipated.   Committed participants had to battle past the four horsemen of the apocalypse to make it just to the start.   I was got by pestilence early on, but I was not alone.  Numbers dwindled.  Facebook posts increased in frequency as the event weekend drew nearer.  Wisdom was shared by previous runners, determined to help as many succeed as possible – albeit some of their words of wisdom were apparently valued as much as pearls before swine.  Incredibly complex logistical operations were mooted, negotiated, confirmed, abandoned and redrawn.   Rather than heading off in convoy, risking the whole running club membership being taken out in one act of sabotage, like the Royal Family, Smileys would travel separately.  They formed little break-away smiley groups and set off from different locations and at different times to confuse any enemies.  To ensure this cover was absolute, they also confused each other quite a lot, and there were relatively few passengers or drivers who had any concept of who they might be traveling with let alone where or when.  Bit like a secret santa.  You have a vague idea presents are to be exchanged, but don’t dwell too much on the details of their exact origins, just go with the flow, pretend to be delighted with the comedy christmas socks or thong and move on.

prosecco

Packing plans were shared.  Prosecco seemingly taking priority for space over say running tights, with at least one runner only narrowly avoiding being made to run the whole two days in nothing but her school knickers.  A chilling thought – literally as well as metaphorically.  Authoritative advice to improve performance included not falling over in the shower and knocking yourself out on the morning of the race.  This sort of insight is I think particularly, helpful, because it wasn’t the most obvious, but when you come to think of it she definitely had a point there.  There was much angst over fell shoes versus trail shoes and sudden realisation that ‘essential kit’ involved hats, gloves, waterproofs, wellingtons, brrrr, it was going to be cold.  In fact it really, really was.  Early evidence showed SNOW up top.  I know it’s november, but I didn’t expect to see that.  Joyful, but slightly intimidating too!  The photo below was taken on the morning of the run, I’ve not yet seen an ‘after’ shot  – hope they aren’t still out there, disoriented by snow blindness, resorting to eating one another.  It would really mess up the Twelve Days of Smileys Christmas Challenge if loads of us are still yomping around having gone feral in the Lakes.  Oh well.

snow-on-the-hills-dw-photo

Not all made it through without incident.  Those who survived pestilence, had instead to tackle fire, as barricades of blazing lorries barred their way.  Persistence meant the occupants of the Fun Bus did make it through like fearless, invincible heroines in some post-apocalyptic road movie.  This was just as well, since without them famine would also have potentially knocked back the morale of the team. The Fun Bus occupants having been entrusted with the communal porridge provisions for the entire Smiley cohort.

apocalypse_vasnetsov

Without these bulk porridge supplies, without them to prepare them, no breakfast for anyone at all!  No breakfast equals no carbing equals no racing.  FACT.  (Bit like the ‘for want of a nail’ proverb,  only MUCH WORSE!). They also were on some sort of mystery quest, having with them some magical lucky keys, that comprised (reading between the lines) a set of extra special ones namely: the key to happiness; the key to life; the key to survival and the key to running success.  Most critically of all, the key to cheetah buddy’s bike lock (I think).  There’d be no holding back those four  horsemen if the Fun Bus didn’t make it through with the keys.  They did though, so worry not.  Death and War were thwarted for now, but we haven’t had the American Election results yet so you might want to keep on working on your Anderson Shelter and get Ocado to do an extra delivery of bottled water; canned and dried food early next week, just in case….

Where was I.  Oh, so those who had evaded pestilence, and pushed through injury, assembled as planned.   Basically, it was a sort of Darwinian selection process ensuring survival of the fittest.  Only the most tenacious and hardcore would make the start, let alone the finish.   Some assembled a lot later than planned on account of leaving late, traffic jams at Glossop and the motorway burning barricades. This would have had terrible consequences in terms of encroaching on prosecco quaffing time, but bless them, the troops made the best of this.  They had other horrors to distract them. Christmas themed disposable cups adding to the nightmare journey as if it weren’t hideous enough already…  It may be wintry up tops, but it is still only November. Poor Regal Smiley, how she suffered in her quest to get there.

so-wrong

Whilst the Fun Bus occupants were battling fires to get to the venue, the early arrivals at the running ball were enjoying a rather civilised and scrumptious chillie feast.  Bad luck all of those of you who missed it…  This is what you could have won:

lb-friday-night-supper-club

The Lakeland Trails Facebook page was thoughtfully kept up to date with photos to fan my flames of despondency and my sense of missing out…  Gawd it was looking lovely.  Just as well there was some communication here, as otherwise the Smiley Cohort were incommunicado for much of the Saturday.  I suspect this was a combination of being hungover, being out of range of any mobile signal and the Smiley elders sensible implementation of an immediate security lock-down at the event village to avoid other running clubs becoming aware of Smiley tactics –  not that these were especially opaque.  Stay up late drinking and laughing, try to remember to put on the correct running shoes in the morning and then run faster than any/all of your opponents.  Not hard really, apart from the running fast bit.

So, here are some event photos, sigh.  It makes my heart hurt to look on them…   That was there on Saturday, and where I was not. If you look carefully you can see I’m not in any of the photos by way of evidence.

One aspect I’m quite glad I missed out on (apart from the whole battle to get the best bunk bed which might have tested even the seemingly strongest of friendships and strategic alliances) is the attempt to work out which race everyone was taking part in.  This was made extra confusing because of the range of options; the complexity of the website (Dr Smiley by her own admission entered twice by accident, and a couple of others entered completely the wrong races by mistake); and changes of mind about the most suitable distances due to injury or even greater fitness than originally anticipated.  All I know is that organising Smiley went armed with spreadsheets, print outs and negotiating skills.  I have confidence she will have accomplished the extraordinary and seemingly impossible feat of getting everyone shoved into position on the appropriate start lines and at the designated times… but I don’t envy her in doing so.

After a longer than comfortable silence, at last some news.  A video showed the start of the 10k and aren’t they marvellous!

I was a bit perturbed that I couldn’t spot all the runners I thought would be heading off, but perhaps those Darwinian principles were still taking their toll.  I was as patient as I could possibly be, but as the day wore on did post on the dedicated Smiley Paces Dirty Double Facebook page noting my separation anxiety and requesting event feedback. This was a very pleasingly effective strategy.  I learned two useful and important things:

Firstly, we had a triumphant Smiley.  Hardly a surprise, but pleasing all the same.  Podium position second place, for one of our very own.  What’s more she ran the whole thing in her fancy dress Michelin man outfit, which would have been my clothing of choice had I known it was an available option.  Plus, she was wearing a very fine bobble hat in tribute to Sheffield’s lovely Jessica.  (That’s Ennis not Fletcher by the way, the Fletcher one lives in Cabot Cove, Maine).  JEH returned the compliment by  sporting a matching(ish) bobble hat at Sheffield Hallam parkrun earlier on on the same day. It’s that sort of sisterhood in the sports community of Sheffield that you can’t put a price on.   I don’t know if it was planned, or if they just have a deeply profound telepathic link… I mean the coat is a pretty good match too you’d have to agree – either explanation is not just acceptable, but veritably marvellous.  Yay.  Initially I thought this photo was the table top dancing competition in progress due to the evident animation in the hands, but I think that was to take place Saturday night after the pasta party buffet all booked up for later on.  You know what, I think it’s loads more fun writing up a blog post based entirely on randomly telegraphed photos, I can just make it up as I go along – just like I usually do, but with less of the guilt at knowing I’m ocassionaly maybe stretching a point shall we say…

Secondly, a true friend of a Smiley offered up words of personalised, unsolicited comfort.  Clearly, when I thought I’d be in attendance for the races both days, I’d naturally assumed I’d be a shoo-in for last place. The final finisher spot being rightfully mine and one I have carried off with considerable consistency if not actual aplomb over the past year.  I didn’t want to go on and on about it, but it saddened me to leave this post unfilled.  I should have credited my Smiley compatriots with more insight.  One took the trouble to let me know that she had taken it upon herself to adopt that mantle.  What can I say?  It brought a lump to  my throat that she’d do that for me, and so keep the Smiley honour in tact.  Good job, well done!  I like to think that next year I’ll be back to reclaim that position, but in the interim it is so very comforting to know that final finisher spot is in safe Smiley hands.  Well done and I salute you!*

*correction – I subsequently learned there was actually vicious jostling for final finisher post.  So coveted is this placing, it seems so low-lives (non smiley) lurked way back purely to disrupt the placings.  There were also sweepers, again messing up the final placings.  However, all was not lost, Smileys delivered final finishing placings in other events over the weekend, so I think we can all be proud of what was achieved.  Well done all.  Oh, and here are some sweepers – they’ve lost their brooms though.  Nevermind.  Personally, I don’t let the presence of tailrunners prevent me from coming last, but it does take my nigh on unique skill to achieve this.

lakeland-sweepers

A late addition to this blog has to be these extra photos papped by those present and in the midst of the action.  We have Smilies assembling on the front line, sprinting off, and generally spreading the joy.  It looks fabulous darlings, absolutely fabulous!  See, this is how it all starts with running.  Compelling stuff.

It must have been pretty cold out there, what with the snow on the tops.  However, trawling the event Facebook page I see that the marshals were well prepared.  Not only wrapping themselves up warm, but at marshal point 7 on the Helvellyn trail, free hugs were available.  I’m not sure if they were just optional, only given on request or mandatory issue, like having taped seams on your waterproofs, but let’s not get bogged down in detail, let’s enjoy the view instead.  Lovely.  This might have been the 15k, or it might not, don’t be pedantic.

free-hugs-marshal-point

Also, pleasingly, finally mindful of their loved ones left behind, some kind souls did get to posting some Smiley shots of the 10k participants.  Aren’t they lovely?  Warms the cockles to see them in action.  So wish I was there though, so wish I was there.   I say it warms the cockles, but it actually looks quite nippy doesn’t it. I think it would take more than a nice view to make you feel your cockles warming if you were out in situ.  Also, I think someone is over-compensating for something with their ostentatious shoe display, but I daresay they had their reasons.  Might be large, but it’s just the one, so not that impressive I venture…  It’s very tempting to Photoshop myself into the group picture, but then again, it’s probably more authentic for me not to be in it, I seem never to make the Smiley group shots.  At the end of races it’s because I never finish in time, at the beginning… well, maybe the others always see me first and  head off before I can join the line up, I’ve never dared ask.  In any event, my being omitted from the shot is no marker as to my actual presence of otherwise.  Next year though, next year will be different.   Note to self, I must email Davina in order to ‘make it so.’  That will work.

On reflection though, there don’t seem to be any ‘after’ shots.  Maybe I’ve got the details of the event all wrong.  Perhaps they just set off the 10k runners like hares, and then in the afternoon the other runners have to chase them down.  What’s that film called where a load of prisoners get put on an island and killed off one by one – like that anyway.  There’s probably a cut-off time, like for the OMM, so any 10k runners that aren’t found by nightfall are just left out there.  More Darwinism in action you see.  Plus, we know that the races are always over-subscribed, if they don’t lose a few runners on day one, there’d never be enough space on the boats to get everyone across the lakes for the start on day two. In the pictures that follow you can see some of them snaking across the hills trying (in vain) to escape their pursuers, plus some rather poignant start line selfies.  All hopeful and naively optimistic about the path that lay ahead.  Touching really.  My favourite photo below is the one of the Smiley Trio all hardcore running in their vest tops whilst other runners pass on by all roasty toasty in their coats.  These are also women with (in my view at least) admirable priorities, stopping mid-race to take a selfie knowing they’ll soon take out those other runners once the photo shoot has ended.  Respect my kindred Smilies, respect!

Obvious when you think about it… the not letting them all finish ruse,  just hope the nominated drivers got back OK, it would be a long walk back from Patterdale, though still only slightly slower than driving given the traffic congestion vehicles will experience coming back through Glossop I suppose.  I know from the pictures, that it seems a couple did make it to the finish line, but that’s consistent with my theory.  It would attract suspicion if no-one made it back, and Darwinian principles demand that some at least survive, otherwise who is around to contribute to the planned captive breeding programme to ensure a strong gene pool for future generations?  Glad we’ve cleared all that up.

These are the hardcore 15 kers prior to set-off onto them there snow-capped hills.  Personally I’m thinking it must have been mighty nippy out there, but then I’m probably just a nesh soft southerner.  I would have gone for more than just a blue morph suit and some fish net tights had I been there, I’d have gone for the full bear onesie given half a chance…  As for the sleeveless vest only option, well I shudder at the very thought.  Surely that can’t be advisory kit for such an occasion, rather a display of wanton exhibitionism?

jd-15k-group-shot

Incidentally, why is Honey G still on the X-factor?  This is what I was having to endure as a substitute to the Lakes pasta party.  The first week it had a sort of bizarre humour, now it’s uncomfortable territory, exploitative in both the sense of cultural appropriation and mocking a potentially vulnerable, talent-less performer.  I now want it to end.  Maybe if I find the remote control I could change channels…  Oh it’s hard being me and being ill, way too much to think about in the multi-tasking departments.

honey-g

So later on updates established that races having been run, gin drinking commenced at 4.00 p.m. which is in fact gin o-clock now the clocks have changed, with prosecco at 5.00 (though an eye-witness subsequently requested I amended this figure to 4.30, which on balance is a very plausible correction from one who was actually there.  Thank you Dr Smiley).  Committed lot Smilies.  There has already been some animated Facebook discussion about incorporating into future training plans building tolerance and stamina in the gin and prosecco consumption stakes.  Any serious runner will tell you, it isn’t only about the running, it’s about planning your nutrition and hydration too, and that doesn’t just mean putting it on a spreadsheet, oh no, it means putting it into PRACTICE too.  Because, practice makes perfect.  Well, Smileys are nothing if not mutually supportive, sounds like there was lots of supportive practice going on back at camp.  Go them!   Of course only the morrow would reveal if they were going for the staying up all night and blasting the run whilst still drunk on Sunday, or favouring the running off the hangover option, which seems high risk given the potential for choppy waters on the boat crossing – though there again, the emetic impact of such a passage could be potentially helpful if a therapeutic chunder was the outcome.  Oooh, I could hardly wait to see how the morrow would unfold!  Exciting spectator sport this trail running malarkey, it really is.

gin-oclock

So then it was Sunday.  After no doubt much cavorting until the small hours, it was a simple matter of getting up and doing the whole running malarkey all over again but this time in wet trail shoes.  I posted a good luck message, then  basically had to wait it out for further information, hoping that none would either fall in or be sick on the boat crossing.  Or more accurately, hoping that if ill-fortune were to befall anyone, some splendid Smiley would have the wit to post all about it on Facebook.  Under the pretence of being supportive and wishing them well, of course, but essentially to do the social media equivalent of pointing and laughing at their expense nevertheless.  Own it people, you know what I mean…

Subsequent reports suggested my original predictions were wildly out.  The Youth Hostel was equipped with a very fine drying room, so the majority were able to set off with dry feet at least.  None however, got to try out their sea legs.  It was too windy to risk sending the boats out apparently.   Poor show by those Smilies who earlier I’m sure were talking about taking a dip in Ullswater on Sunday morning at one point.  Given the organisational flair shown with respect to getting food orders sorted, I’m sure some sort of spreadsheet could have been devised to get people over in relays, sharing the two available wet-suits that I understood made the cut in the luggage packing roulette. It’s like that story where the chicken, the fox and the grain have to be taken across the water but only two at a time will fit in the boat, and you have to work out how this can happen without someone getting eaten..  Actually, not sure what happened with that story, didn’t something get eaten anyway, wasn’t that the point?  Or was that the one with the scorpion and the frog where everyone died?  I think the picture is exaggerating a bit, I reckon it would have been doable with a bit of Smiley teamwork…  Smiley Paces members are all AWESOME they can do anything when they put their minds to it, anything at all.

scorpion-and-the-frog

To make up for missing out on the excitement of catching a steamer, the participants were given alternative excitement in the form of a sort of impromptu is the race on or off hokey cokey routine.  To be honest it seems not everyone thrived on the uncertainty.  No doubt it played havoc with their precautionary pee and warm-up routines.  Here are some Smileys on the edge of their seats with eager anticipation awaiting the official announcements of how the day might yet unfold…  They look like coiled springs ready to explode upwards and outwards don’t they.  Awesome concentrated and pent-up energy in evidence there – if you know where to look.  (Or it might be waiting for the buffet to come out on Saturday night, hard to be sure).

dk-eager-anticipation

 Eventually though, an alternative route was  laid, and everyone got to have a bash at the alternative 10k.  The route looked beautiful, but let’s be honest, definitely nippy out there.  Fortunately there were fine marshals on hand to direct and encourage – ooh look, an especially fine one sourced from our very own Smiley Paces gene pool for example!  Plus, some awesome supporters traipsing round like Ofsted inspectors, scrutinising the action, this is the unofficial Smiley Inspectorate, whom nobody expects.  I think they should have some sort of a uniform myself, something with golden braided  cord on the sleeves for preference.  (To be fair, I have absolutely no idea if these photos were from Sunday or Saturday’s running excursions, but I say, never let the truth get in the way of a promising narrative, so let’s not explore too deeply.  Fine shots all the same.)

The multi-talented marshal was able to multi task to a high degree of competence.  Offering directional pointing, shouting support and taking photos all at once.  What I think is particularly impressive is how even though most runners were speeding past faster than the speed of light, she still managed to catch many on film, some with a clever frissance of blur to indicate speed.  Not everyone can pull this off.  When I do it, it just looks like my photos are out of focus.  Clearly not so here.  In the Smiley slideshow of delightful snaps below you can clearly differentiate between different running techniques.  There are a couple of hoppers, a few team twosomes, one or two borderline manic (but mania can be quite an engine to power you through a tough race) and my personal favourite, the jazz hands/ teapot twosome who have synchronised their movements in a way normally only seen in the opening rounds of Strictly Come Dancing.  Look and learn people, you have to work it for the camera, these shots show how and why far more eloquently than I can.  You’ve got to love a Smiley in Action shot.  Thanks Smiley Elder for sharing these.

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So it seems that the Sunday run happened late, and happened short, but it did at least happen.   Running took place, and fun was had.  T shirts were earned, and how splendid they would look juxtaposed with official smiley kit:

If the gushing expressions of enthusiasm are anything to go by this weekend away was carthatic; inspirational; hilarious; joyful; lovely and basically splendid.  Whilst undoubtedly a LOT of work for our Smiley organiser I hope the forcefield of good will that now engulfs her may be some small recognition for her labours.  She shall henceforth be known a Superstar Smiley.  Let the records show that many recognise this coming together would never have happened without her vision, hardwork and enthusiasm.  All Smilies are awesome both by definition and by association, but Superstar Smiley is especially Awesome for pulling off this logistical challenge.  We thank you. All of us.  Even those that got cold out on them there hills.  Type two fun (retrospective fun) is still fun after all.

superstar-smiley

All too soon the weekend ended, the marshals and participants dispersed and doors were shut on the youth hostel dorms for another year.  Here’s hoping though, this weekend is but the origins of a new Smiley tradition, that might yet carry on for future generations.  Oh, and for the record, this is a dorm,however the occupants shown are for illustration purposes only, your actual room-mates may differ from those pictured should you choose to book in another year.  For better or worse, you have been warned.

lb-dorm-life-smiling

All that was left, was to travel homewards, and then pour over the results at leisure.  The most important prize winners were those who won the fancy dress.  A tradition for the Sunday Ullswater trail apparently.  How did I not know this?  Obviously Roger wasn’t in attendance this year, so we can be gracious in applauding this crew – though I can’t help wondering if they were in fact the killer tail markers, tasked with culling any real slowbies to cut down the numbers a bit for day two. Still, I wasn’t there, what do I know?  There was a story going round that the ‘official’ tail markers had fairy lights adorning them, but that was most likely just to put people off the scent.  I don’t want to cast nasturtiums but don’t mock my conspiracy theories until we’ve counted all the Smilies back in at the next Smiley Thursday night rendezvous, OK?

fancy-dress

Oh, and if you want the results they follow below, but really, who cares?  Everyone who took part was brilliant, in whatever capacity they took part.  Everyone who finished covered the same terrain for the same distance, it seems petty to quibble over minutes passed on the hills.  Though for the record, those who were out for the longest showed greater stamina and got more minutes for their money, so everyone’s a winner!  The marshals are of course the most glorious of all, they are out longest and in the most inclement of conditions.  Stars all of them (though as has already been established, we love the Smiley Stars best of all 🙂 ).

Helvellyn Lakeland Trails Results 2016

Ullswater Lakeland Trails Results 2016

So well done everyone, grand weekend away.  Here’s hoping to same time next year, but whether we do or whether we don’t we’ll always have our memories eh, false memory syndrome or otherwise.

memories

Oh, and it’s not too soon to enter the Dirty Double for 2017 eek…  though there will come a time when it will be too late I suppose… I really want to, but it would break my heart if I had to duck out again.  Is it tempting fate to sign up too soon… I wonder if Jessica might be able to organise some child care and come along too?  I’d be equally happy to share a dorm with Jessica Ennis or Jessica Fletcher, both are role models in their own ways.

You can find out more about the Lakeland Trails events here – but good luck with working out which race is which, it is the most confusing event series I’ve ever seen.  Guess it all makes sense when you get there….  Just go with the flow and keep on smiling.  That will get you through most challenges in life.

So til next time happy running y’all and well done Smilies.  What larks eh?  What larks!

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Corrections, clarifications, amendments and updates, added 12 November 2016:

So, using the flimsy pretext of having a leaving do prior to my imminent departure to Cambodia, Cheetah Buddy colluded with me in gathering together a group of Smiling Smilies so I could research a bit more what had really happened under the cover of Patterdale YHA whilst apparently just benignly circulating.  A bit like penguin-cam going undercover to research penguins, only marginally less ethical I imagine.  The photo below is of an actual undercover penguin by the way, not one taken at my Smiley ‘leaving do’.

penguin-cam

So I learned explicitly, the following new things:

There was a major incident en route, but Smileys came to the rescue, at some personal sacrifice.  What happened was, depending on which version of events you believe, a fellow runner, who coincidentally ended up running sandwiched between two Smilies (not in a pervy way, but in a fortuitous one).  He took a flying tumble at one point, and then the Smiley duo, sacrificed their own race performances to come to his aid.  A fact for which he publicly thanked them on Facebook, noting that one had selflessly sacrificed her own buff in order to mop up blood spillage and allow him to continue.  This was noble… up to a point, but let the records show that it was only an innov8 buff, one relatively easily sacrificed, if she’d (unwisely) ventured out with just the one buff, and had to surrender her Smiley one instead, it might have all ended rather differently.    It’s an old ruse, one used by wily travelers, always carry two wallets with you, so should you be mugged you have one you can surrender as it is of low value, keeping your really prized of valuable possessions secure.  Even so, great PR for Smilies, and I’ve subsequently researched the photographic evidence for myself and I don’t think it’s absolutely conclusive about whether the whole thing was engineered for publicity purposes. I don’t thing the sudden braking by the front-runner and inadvertant shoving or heel clipping of the runner from behind would necessarily have resulted in tripping.  Purely coincidentally.  Besides, an independent witness, Dr Smiley, said the fallen runner kept falling over all the time anyway.  To be surrounded by Smileys on this occasion was to be flanked by guardian angels and not at all an added hazard as you can see.  Great teamwork y’all!

flanked-by-smilies

The mysterious key that had to be secretly recovered and returned to Cheetah Buddy was not in fact the key to immortality, no, no no no no.  It was waaaaaaaaaaaaay more significant than that.  It was the key to Cheetah Buddy’s car-roof box.  Into this was packed food provisions AND smiley running gear prior to departure from Sheffield.  En route it became apparent the key for this had got left behind.  Once again, Smilies worked together to source the key.  Someone still in Sheffield was despatched to the house to retrieve it, and then it was passed from contact to contact with a complexity only ever shown previously by the French resistance smuggling people out of occupied France, and the exact pathway of which will never be known. What is known, that the person who entered the property for the initial purpose of key removal found the house to be occupied, but was still able to help themselves to pretty much whatever they fancied unchallenged.  This is lovely and heart-warming hospitality on the one hand, but a sad indictment of the effectiveness of the local neighbourhood watch team on the other.   Let the records show the key did eventually get restored to Cheetah buddy and the contents were made available to all once again. This was good in that people got to eat, but at least one Smiley confided to me in ‘absolute confidence ‘ (a loosely interpreted principle for the purposes of this blog) that there was a bit of her that would have been quite happy to have had an excuse not to do all that running around in the freezing cold and wet.

Packing tip – the best way to pack for this weekend, is apparently to just get the biggest bag you can find (a bin bag will do) and just empty the contents of your runner drawer/ shelf or clothing rail into said bag.  Job done.  Really not a big deal.

Another thing, I don’t know whether it was peer pressure or the alcohol talking, but a Smiley Elite have invented their own new special event for 2017.  This is to be the Filthy Four (see what they’ve done there, not just Lakeland Trail people who are great with their marketing).  The (somewhat distorted) logic of this group is that if running is fun, then running more is therefore more fun. To them, this is quite obvious, and they would all run to infinity and beyond if they could, much as does Buzz Lightyear.  Getting marshals for an infinitely long run would be logistically challenging, unless the race took place on an extra-large hamster wheel, to be honest the Filthy Foursters wouldn’t be fooled but that practical approach. Rather, they have created their own kind of crazy.  They have negotiated with the race organisers to enter both the morning 10k runs AND the afternoon 15k and 14k events.    They will have to get a wiggle on for the 10k on the second day, as they’ll need to make it round in time to catch the last paddle steamer of the day across Ullswater, but apparently it is doable.  Personally, I don’t think these runners have necessarily understood that just because something is doable it doesn’t follow that it is desirable, but hey ho, it will be fun as a spectator sport, and these women are inspirational hard-core.  It will be some clash of the titans if they pull it off!  Yay.  So exciting.  If it was the alcohol talking, this was one of the contributing bottles, apparently it was jolly nice, so here it is for reference purposes:

wine-talking

Lots of photos were taken of Smilies in action. The Lakeland Trails people just make these shots available for free.  Isn’t that splendid?  Here are some Smilies being awesome in action to illustrate the point.  As a little teaser for you, see if you can spot the filthy four founders by their shots and check out those Smiley Smiles.  There are just a couple of preconditions of smiley membership, one is to be generally all round awesome, which is fair enough, the other is to be able to crack a smile even in adversity and even if it’s a bit fixed and crazed at times.  I think everyone acquitted themselves admirably in respect of these directives.

In other news, it was reported that there was some sort of spontaneous reconstruction of a people smuggling operation whereby an indeterminate number of smileys were bundled into the back of a petrol-fumed suffused van for the purposes of relocation from the start line on day two, back to the hostel. This was an alternative to hanging around in a chilly marquee for another two hours whilst waiting for the alternative course route to be put in place.  Water crossing being cancelled due to ill winds.  There are a lot of ill winds at present if international politics are anything to go by. Everyone survived, but had a new compassion for those whose circumstances force them into the hands of unscrupulous people smugglers, stuffed in the back of darkened vehicles, hardly able to breathe and entirely at the mercy of the vehicle drivers as to whether or not they will reach their desired destination. Fortunately, in the Patterdale context they did.  Yay.

I also learned the drying room was AMAZING and the youth hostel roasty toasty warm.  So I was wrong both about the lake crossing and the having to run the whole thing again in wets shoes.  On the other hand, it did snow over-night and it was pretty wet under foot already, so I think that whilst on a technicality I was wrong, people began the day with sparkly clean and dry feet cosseted in perfectly pre-warmed running shoes, in the facts that matter I was of course completely right.   Didn’t take long for feet to reach saturation point out there on them there hills.  So that’s good.

Next year, the even will take place earlier, mid October, 14/15th October to be precise.  Also, this year, and hopefully in subsequent years too, there were lots of spot prizes that were only awarded to people who were physically present. Thus, if you want to be in with a shot at winning say a pair of fine technical socks or a free entry to a series ultra then hang around.  If winning a free entry to a series ultra fills you with fear and precipitates an attack of nausea then maybe not.

Oh, and finally, lest you need further convincing of the generally accepted awesomeness of the Smiley Paces cohort.  We/They got a special mention on the Lakeland Trails Facebook page who noted (favourably) the fantastic Smiley turnout of fifty entrants and chose this shot using Smiley members as the poster girls for next year events.  I was going to say ‘the faces of…’ but it seems the Lakeland Trails marketing department decided these particular Smileys best side was their backsides.  Who are we to argue with such experts?

smiley-dirty-doublers

This concludes the update for the Lakeland DD, but suffice to say it is already in the diary as game on for 2017. The Smiley Paces annual migration has been set in motion. There will be no turning back the clock or stuffing these genies back in the bottle (though they may well be sinking a few).  Smiley Paces members are indeed the best thing to come out of Sheffield since Henderson’s Relish or Stainless Steel.  Life changing discoveries and exports one and all!

For all my Lakeland Trails related posts, click here and scroll down for older entries.

 

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