Use your Sugarloaf – beware this gnarly fell race
06/11/2009 by Niki.
Having recced this fell race with both Andy C and Ian (consecutively), it would be most inappropriate and politically incorrect for me to observe here that Andy hadn’t a clue where he was going, and that Ian’s nav was faultless. So, when it came to deciding who to share a lift with to the start, it was a no-brainer. Also, there’s the small matter of Andy refusing any lifts from anyone – obviously in uber-psyched racing “don’t talk to me, I’m far too serious an athlete to be distracted by a silly girl” mindset.
We arrived at the start to see many a familiar face – including, most notably, that of Marianne. Good, I thought – excellent to have such fine female Harrier talent at this event. OK then, what I really thought was “right, that’s any vague hope of glory out the window, unless I have a sex change, an injection of steroids, and locate a time portal to propel me back to my mid-20’s – all in the next 15 minutes”. Marianne purported to have a hangover, which may have made her 1% less completely awesome than normal – but she still put on a fantastic performance to be first female Harrier by many minutes. Clearly, she didn’t drink enough.
Lou arrived with her brood in tow, and decided to cheer the Harriers on, which as well as being hugely motivational and very sweet (especially the cheers of Ceri and Polly), proved to be a most useful navigational aid – more about that later.
It was a delight as always to see Esther’s smiling face, and we did a brief warm up together, before reality dawned. Behind Esther’s cheery, laid back demeanour lies a woman of cast iron. Her steely determination, fortitude and ruthlessness on the hill make Genghis Khan look like a blancmange. Having just about recovered from the Herculean effort of trying to keep up with Es on the Black Mountains fell race some months ago, the mental scars were still lingering. As I cast around to see if there were any LV80s I could swap my warm up routine with, runners began to mass at the start. We passed Andy C running towards us. No eye contact, no verbal contact, a vague raise of the hand in acknowledgement. Inexplicably, Andy’s ultra-focused pre-race preparation put Esther and I in a fit of giggles.
“So Ian, what’s your race strategy then?” I nonchalantly enquired.
“It’s to go as fast as I can uphill, and as fast as I can downhill” he replied.
“That’s really uncanny Ian. That was my strategy too. Golly, we must have some amazing brain-linked chemistry synch vibe going on”.
“Whatever” replied Ian.
It was good to see the indefatigable, indestructible, irrepressible Gill Stott on the start line (and her lovely hubby), pointing her broken arm defiantly towards the summit of Sugarloaf. I believe she said she would trot round with Rob Brown, and he foolishly believed her… a woman of fortitude to rival Esther’s.
It was also great to see Sue and Gerry there – more OMM survivors returning to the Welsh hills the weekend after for more pain and misery.
At the start we were told there would be no prizes for any winners, just spot prizes. That reduced the pressure to just trying and beat as many of your mates as possible for the hell of it.
The Start – well, this was steep up, and if one was feeling particularly super-human, deranged, inadvisably ambitious and masochistic (most of Chepstow Harriers), one could run up it. The ideal would have been to attempt to do this all the way up, but the harsh reality of a finite lung capacity, a middle-aged body and depleted oxygen to the legs soon made this fantasy, just that. I am sure the uber-quick boys such as Steve Caldwell and Matthew Lawson managed to achieve this.
Having decided that the OMM was just a load of old tussocks, it felt good to be running on something resembling a path – and even better to watch the warped course planner struggle up the steep hillside on Sugarloaf. It would have been even better to show him a clean pair of heels, but he was going well (damn him). All that Ommmmm chanting and eschewing frivolous chat at the start must have paid off.
Ian shot off like a scalded cat - maybe it had something to do with my worrying (to him) comment about us having our brains linked. It was to prove an ill-advised tactic though because I overtook him after about 10 minutes.
Esther and I had a titanic battle throughout the entire race. We solved this ‘having an identical pace’ problem at the Black Mountains by running round together, but that was a 17 mile very tough race where our mutual support was extremely helpful to get round, and this was just 5 miles – we couldn’t do the girlie thing of coming in together hand in hand at the finish line again. Not without a lot of p*ss taking from Andy C anyway. We would have to fight to the death. I was convinced just about all of the way round that this battle would be won by Esther as I have the mental resolve of your average hibernating hamster – I can barely focus for a 20 yard sprint finish yet alone a 5 mile fell race. Esther obviously used this to her advantage by encouraging me to look at the view. This I did thinking “ooh, look at those lovely trees, and those glorious autumnal colours, and is that Pen Carig y wotsit I can see over there in the Black Mountains – rather than thinking “you must run this woman into the ground at all costs”. I don’t really like being uber-competitive with my friends, because, well, they are my friends, and it seems like unseemly behaviour.
After feeling on the verge of a quadruple heart bypass several times, I found myself standing on the summit of Sugarloaf. Only I didn’t find myself in a stationary position. That’s the problem with fell races – you completely and utterly slaughter yourself to get to the top, but because it’s uphill and you aren’t really moving very fast at all, you know that you have to really, really slaughter yourself completely and utterly on the descent to make up for all that wussy walking you did on the way up. The result is that you beast yourself up, and you beast yourself down, and there is absolutely no point whatsoever in a short fell race where you will not be absolutely beasting yourself into a pulp – unless you’re not trying hard enough, which is just pathetic and you should be ashamed of yourself, and take up basket weaving.
Anyway, where was I – ah yes, the top of Sugarloaf. Esther was ahead of me at this point, and that was to continue for some of the descent, until I sensed a slight easing in her stride and went for an overtaking manoeuvre. My descent strategy was simple. To take my brain out and move as fast as possible. The first part was not difficult for me as it comprises fluff and air, but the second part was more difficult. I was beginning to tire, and Esther was closing in for the kill. I now have empathy for wildebeests.
There was a bit of ascent in the descent, which I thought was unnecessarily harsh. I managed to overtake one woman around this point, before we started descending again. On the descent I was uncertain of the correct path to take, and then I heard this tremendous cacophony of “Niki, Niki” coming from the lovely Summers’ children and Lou reverberating around the mountains. “Ah, that’ll be the correct route then” I thought, and hurled myself towards them at alarming speed. What I didn’t know at the time was that the woman just behind me that I’d just overtaken was also called Niki, so she must have been impressed by this new fan base.
“You’re 3rd woman” bellowed Lou, encouragingly. That spurred me on the finish in this position. I’m not sure how I managed to cross the finish line without throwing up, but it was immensely pleasing to stop. Es was just seconds behind me. My lungs are so trashed I haven’t stopped coughing since and am convinced I have bronchitis at the very least.
Great event – I’ll be back next year.
Congratulations to everyone who took part, especially first lady – Marianne.
The OMM 2009, Elan Valley
06/11/2009 by Ivan.
The Originall Mountain Marathon (OMM) this year took part in Wales, it turned out to be practically on our doorstep just up the road in the Elan Valley. A number of Harriers took part this year, and following a bit of recovery time we now have a few reports of experiences! Although reading the reports might give the impression that everyone had a miserable time…. you will generally find that at the end of the report just about everyone is already planning which is the next Mountain Marathon they are going to do next ! So if any of the reports inspire any of you to give it a go, just speak to any of these any you’re bound to find a willing partner!!
If you want to look at the maps and courses they can be found on www.theomm.com , find your way to the results section and you’ll find a link something called ‘routegadget’ - using this you can view courses, and also view the routes that teams took.
A huge thanks to the organisers and the planners.
C Course
Vanessa & Matthew Lawson
Late start on the Saturday meant a sleep in a bed rather than a tent on Friday night, so who was complaining? Get the boys up, do breakfast, then pack the car and wave bye bye as Granny had very generously agreed to babysit for two days (she had been booked a year in advance for the event). Seth had a slight temperature so a bit of Calpol and mummy and daddy were off!
Drove up to Builth Wells with Esther and hunky Bill (not my description, but I do agree…just ask Niki and Gill). On the way up Es showed her totally relaxed attitude to the tough weekend ahead by providing veterinary consultancy services from her pink iPhone. Next time I’ll charge her rent for using my car as an office.
Got to Builth Wells, register, and get on a coach which would take us to the start. We were on the last one. It was by now raining quite a bit. Ivan was on our coach too and he informed us that the weather would definitely improve. His optimism was laudable, although I wasn’t convinced. He did however turn out to be right as by the time we actually got to the start there was quite a bit of blue sky visible. On the way to the start we passed a sign in true Andy Creber style informing us that the tussocks we were walking on were ‘not tussocks!’. How right he was…
Got into our ‘pen’ only to be told by the starting marshal that we were a minute early. We held back, but then I checked and he’d read the wrong line! We quickly resumed our position in the start queue, got handed our huge maps, and set off. Es and hunky Bill had set off 3 minutes before us and were totally out of sight already.
There was a big up, then a big long flat, Andy had told M that if there was a path going roughly the right way we should take it, so we followed a lovely sheep track for ages, found the checkpoint then dropped down to a reservoir. Checkpoint 2 in the bag. At this point there was a slight disagreement about the route to checkpoint 3, M agreed to follow my route choice (which turned out to be pretty much my only contribution to the weekend’s navigation, but I was proud of it). Run run run! To the road, run on the road, run everything, M was cracking the whip big time. At the next long drag he took my rucksack and I hung on for dear life as he carried both rucksacks and navigated. I can’t imagine he could see his feet, and he did comment that he was having to work quite hard (as he was carrying the best part of 12kg, I am pleased that he had to work hard!). Overtook loads of teams, overheard someone say ‘is that cheating?’. No it isn’t, keep running.
After this my memory is a bit sketchy, except that I was made to run for hours and hours. I fell in a bog up to mid-thigh, cried, and still I had to run. The tussocks were not too bad as the 3000 people who had started before us had made a lovely motorway through them, so I had to run. Run run run…eventually we got to the camp, queued for the download of the results, and discovered to our delight we were in the chasing start, as we’d finished within an hour of the leaders in sub 4 hours. 14th overnight. Great!
Found the other Chepstow Harriers as Andy had put a sign up so we could all camp together, discovered that Es and hunky Bill had been less than 6 minutes quicker, and we were pleased. And I was so tired. The prospect of doing the whole thing again was not inspiring.
M pitched tent and did all the cooking, whilst all I could manage was to get in the tent and put on all the clothes I had brought. 5 layers, and I was still cold. Ate vast quantities of food, couscous (Stevie C’s special recipe, yum, except it’s better on a nice plate rather than in a cut-up plastic milk container). Oh well. Loads of chocolate, crisps, honey roasted nuts, you get the picture…I had eaten very little during the day and drank nothing. I had to run, no time for food/drink. I would suffer later.
Had lots of drink (being dehydrated), went to bed by 7pm, then at 10pm there was an urgent need for the loo. In my view, this is the fundamental problem with camping – when you need to go, you have to leave your nice tent and brave the elements. It was howling out there. There was NO WAY I was going out in it. That cut-up milk container came in very handy…
I think I might have slept for 45-50 minutes in the night, the wind blowing straight at my face through the pathetically thin mesh of the tent, I was freezing, the space blanket succeeded in trapping enough condensation to soak my 1 season sleeping bag, and I had a generally rubbish night’s sleep. Was relieved to get up, although then I remembered I had to do a few hours’ running before I could get home to a bath. This was a bit of a low point, the first one of many that day.
Got to the start, were off up a mountain, and I was so tired…The first 4 checkpoints were a real struggle as I could not get motivated to run, the tussocks seemed 6ft tall and the bogs as deep as the ocean. I did wonder at one point whether it would be possible to sink and disappear, and what would M do then? How would he get me out? Would the rucksack rise to the surface (it was so light today, I was carrying a sleeping bag and a fleece, it could not possibly have sunk in the bog). All these were not positive thoughts. Low point number 2 (or probably 5 by now).
Suddenly we saw people! We were not alone! After 2 hours of lone slogging in the lunar landscape, there was life out there! The short score people were out in force and we were on the path they had created! A new lease of life, I could run a bit! Then we bumped into the pair that started 2 mins after us, and the race was on! There was no way these two would beat us to the finish. From checkpoint 5 I ran. Run run run. Keep up, keep up, run, run, run! Ovetake overtake! The poor people on the short score ambling down the final descent didn’t know what had hit them as I threw myself down the hillside shouting ‘out of the way please!’ and they parted like the Red Sea waters. They were walking side by side, for goodness’ sake, obstructing the path, and I wasn’t taking any prisoners no more. Run run run run run… finish…
The cheerful face of Andy C was there (two hours earlier and I would have wiped that smile off his face with a carefully aimed punch, but now everything was great, and I could stop running). Tea, squash, coach back to Builth Wells, download, food, car, home. Got home just before 5 to discover Seth was in bed and Reuben having a bath (A bit early?) It turns out that Granny knew the clocks were changing, but at Casa Lawson they changed the wrong way, so everything was 2 hours out…
The evening was rounded off with pudding at Es’ with Stevie C, Gill, Andy and hunky Bill.
Overall result: finished 29th, so quite a drop on day 2 from 14th. I learned a lot about myself that weekend, about not being phased by chasing starts, about keeping going as there was a lot left in the tank at the end, and also about finding another MM partner who I can keep up with even when they are carrying all the kit…Niki has agreed to do the Saunders next year and I am really looking forward to it. Andy C complained that I had stolen his partner, but he can have M instead. It’s a bit like wife swap.
Sue & Gerry Ashton
Sue :
Not one to celebrate my achievements but I was very proud of my feat of finishing the OMM. I was so exhausted that I had to be dragged over the finish line by my sister in law, who was a finish marshal.
I have been dreaming of tussocks and women eating bogs ever since.
Looking at the results today I find Gerry and I were second vets team on the C class when the vets’ handicap was applied. So the problem was not my running too slow but Gerry running too fast.
Still not sure what I thought of the weekend. I enjoyed the bus ride and the red Kites at the start; I am still waiting for time to mellow the rest.
Gerry :
The tussocks were evil, as were the bog holes.
The weather was windy and showery and colder than I expected.
Legs still aching, blisters still raw but satisfied nonetheless.
Esther Barret & Bill
From the moment we signed up to the C class at this year’s OMM the pressure was on…with the ever lovely Andy C turning up the heat with his finishing predictions. However, one advantage of working away from Chepstow over the summer was that any training could be done in secret…The week of the OMM arrived, and with it dire predictions for the weather. Would this help or hinder us? Arch rivals M and V kindly offered us a lift up to the Elan Valley, but made it clear that there was no guarantee of a lift back again should we be so rude as to finish ahead of them. While Ste and Andy S purchased all the available tents on the OMM website for careful pre-race analysis and selection, I listened in horror as (hunky) Bill proudly told me that he had washed our racing tent with biological detergent (something to do with eating minestrone soup from the groundsheet during the Rab…) Surely that would mean it was no longer waterproof?? (Hunky) Bill was confident that all would be fine - and to prove it he suspended the tent from 4 corners, poured on water to create a large puddle and left it for the day to see if it leaked. I wasn’t convinced…The night before the race, Ste was still carefully weighing kit, selecting tents and preparing the magic racing meals. Bemused by my slightly haphazard approach to nutrition (a few Jelly babies, some gels, and one packet of peanuts… or should that be two? Oh yes, and a manky old energy bar to serve as the emergency rations), Ste agreed to prepare us the winning formula meals. I’m not sure he’d have been so kind if we’d been competing in the same class… So Saturday morning arrived and we set off… then returned because Bill and I needed a waterproof case for our OS map (you never know when the additional info on the OS might come in handy). M offered the loan of one of their carefully preserved plastic covers (must remember to give it back), and, having just said the difficult goodbyes to Reuben and Seth, Vanessa had to creep back in to collect it. Sorry Vanessa! Then we were off properly… all was going fine, until we failed the first navigational test in following the signs for the public loos on the way to Builth Wells… and then failed the second navigational test in going the wrong way at the roundabout by the showground…. and then got lost between the car park and registration… But we made it, and finally found ourselves in the sheep pen (bus stop) with alarmingly little time to spare. Baaaaa……From the coach, the scenery was beautiful. Getting out in the blustery rain and having to yomp miles up to the start was less beautiful. But we were there with plenty of time to spare. Waterproofs on or off? We needed to be as anonymous as possible in order to avoid being seen by M and V who were starting hot on our heels. After one false start (we got the time wrong), we were jigging around nervously on the start line. Ivan appeared next to us, ready to race the B class. And then we were off. Racing away from the start line… must put as much distance between us and M and V as possible… From there the day is a bit of a blur, during which the only constant sight was Bill’s heels. Head down, keep up. The first 3 check points went well, good running, no sight of M and V. Then we encountered the bogs and the queues. I’m not sure what was worse - being sucked deep into the bog, with cramping calves screaming at the effort needed to get out, or being stuck behind ambling day trippers, forced to take to the tussocks to make any headway. The tussocks it was. Eventually, inevitably, the tussocks got their own back and I went over on my ankle, forced to stop, swearing, while Bill disappeared over the horizon. A helpful pair (I think they were gloating competitors) called him back. After a few minutes hopping, I could take weight on it, and we were off again. Nearly at the finish…a lovely descent… a narrow bridge…(on which, bizarrely, Ste was standing, and had to be duly pushed out of the way - we were in a hurry, after all)… but then up again - what was that about? and then finally a descent into the overnight campsite. Cold, wet, but home for the night.We found Niki and Rick and a sign to the ‘Chepstow Harriers camping quarters’, and I guess Bill must have put the tent up while I shivered and complained about my sore foot. M and V arrived - too soon. We had raced our hearts out and only had 6 minutes on them. The good news was that we were 1st mixed pair… with M and V a close 2nd. The race was definitely still on… A large packet of Walker’s Sensations and the amazing Caldwell meal and life was feeling a lot better. The balloon bed was inflated (sorry about the pops and squeals!) and the sleeping quarters established. We both had a warm and comfortable night (unlike our competitors), and it was a struggle to get up and ready for the chasing start.Day 2 was probably harder, but the views were awesome and it was good to be closer to the front of field, away from the crocodile. Bill was in his navigational element, racing off over the tussocks while I stumbled along blindly in his wake. We hit a low point half way through - we were both knackered, and I had force fed Bill so many sweets he was sick. At each check point, we met up with a pair of Ironman triathletes - they were running faster, but further, and so we were able to keep up with them, finally overtaking them towards the end as they navigated themselves into oblivion. Andy C materialised from nowhere, looking very pleased with himself (what had he been up to?). He assured us that we were undoubtedly winning (!), and that M and V were nowhere to be seen. Thus encouraged, we took to the final descent… the energy definitely running out as we flogged ourselves along the endless track to the finish. It was over, we were first mixed pair, and suddenly we forgot the bogs, the queues, the tussocks….. and we loved it. Until the next time…
Unless anyone wants to put in a bid for Hunky Bill??
B course
Pete Ward & Brother
After a couple of years winning prizes on the C-Class, we would have been running non-competitively on our favoured course, so decided to move up to the B-Class (our excuse has always been that my brother lives in Norfolk so can’t train on hills)! Starting out at 11:30 and fearing the worst, we upped the power in our headtorches; thankfully we finished Day 1 earlier than expected so didn’t have to run the tussocks in the dark. We cut the weight in our sacks significantly this year principally by only running with one bottle each and filling it up from the streams. We certainly noticed the reduced weight (5.5kg each compared to the usual 7.5kg at the start of Day 1).
Day 1 courses were a bit too easy (but probably would have been tougher if the mist had been down). One leg took over 90 minutes which was a bit excessive. Day 2 courses were more challenging although we still didn’t make any errors other than missing the top of the path to the first control. It is certainly more fun starting in the chasing start and creating the paths for everyone else. Our only issue was the ridiculous decent to control 9 followed by the accent back-up (I wasn’t sure my brother was going to make it!)
We came 14th overall, missing out on the prizes, but importantly, we don’t have to run in the A-Class to be competitive next year.
Ivan Teed & Alistair Powell (orienteering buddy)
Ok – sorry everyone – my small paragraph grew a bit!!
For those that don’t know, doing a MM involves a lot of thinking about… this mainly involves the weight of your bag, do you carry water ? (it’s 1kg per litre so….) How much food? How many calories in a cup a soup ? Make sure nothing says ‘light’, ‘low fat’, ’skinny’, ‘diet’, ‘low sugar’, ‘fat free’ and definitely nothing with ‘weight watchers’ on it. The target is to get maximum calories for minimum weight!!!
Unfortunately Ali twisted his ankle about a month before, so lack of running fitness, meant we decided we were just going to take it steady….. So stuffing our faces with pizza on the bus to the start was very enjoyable, and many comments of ‘I wish we’d done that’ were heard nearby.
Arriving at the start, the weather appeared to be right on cue, and the rain stopped just before midday which prompted a clothing change and waterproofs removed – marvellous.
Start box – look at map – go! We started at the same time as Esther and Bill, and while we walked out of the blocks you would have thought Es was starting a 5k time trial on the bridge!! After what seemed like another 15mins we eventually arrived at the start flag!!!
Ok – maybe we should try a bit of running then – and off we went – until the first hill!! and so it went on. Feeling pretty tired at no. 5 we decided that maybe running down the path to the lake and following the track along might be the better option as we might actually manage to run some of that!!!! Unfortunately, being on the track didn’t really help – and we just walked all the way along it instead – navigation was easy though!!
After what seemed like forever we were nearing the finish – finally.
Overnight camp – AndyC pointed us towards the ‘chepstow’ area, unfortuantely as we were so slow – they were already well set up, and we just got stuck into putting the tent up!! After changing,eating,doing some brief washing up in the stream I had the choice of heading off to socialize with the other harriers, or getting in my sleeping bag and noshing on my various snacks of chocolate, nuts and some more hot chocolate – sorry guys but you can guess my choice.
Vanessa – 7pm sounds like a late night to me, we were wrapped up in sleeping bags by 6.30, and following a brief chat it was time to start a long night of not much sleep.
Only now reading these other reports I have discovered that Andy C had personally chosen this camping area for us – i’m intrigued as to his criteria – if it was to find the lumpiest most uncomfortable ground with high water content to ensure that even with high quality insulation the ground felt cold – then he succeeded.
Waking up in the dark I initially thought – great i’ve been asleep for ages, must be nearly 3 in the morning, I wonder what the time is…. OMG its only 10pm, i’ve still got at least 8 hours to go……. so every 30mins looking at the watch the night passes slowly! Finally i’m asleep … HOOOOOT HOOOOOOT – no not an owl, it’s the ‘waking up man’ came round with his big hooter and loud speaker… argh!!! Thankfully not being in the chasing start we didn’t have to get up too quick!
Day 2…. A nice slow start on the second day – we decided to start slow, and stuck to mainly walking briskly – this worked pretty well and meant that towards then end after walking briskly past quite a lot of people we were able to start running – until we reached checkpoint 9. Standing at the top of a steep hill about 90m below (vertically!! & i’ve just counted the contours) we discussed with various other teams what might happen to the planner if we dot hold of him!!!! Be warned Andy – even the Aunty Mary disguise won’t help you! After sliding down the slope and crawling straight back up it - there being no choice as that was the way to no. 10 ! We were able to start running again and pushed on again towards the end – with one blip of Ali twisting his ankle again on the way to the last control – luckily not badly – phew!
Finish – tea and soup tent – where I dug out my cooking pot which the nice man very kindly calling it an ‘expensive bucket’ filled it right to the top!! - fantastic – kept me warm while standing in the bus queue! Off the bus – through download – and off to collect our free bowl of chilli – fantastic – the memories already fading we started deciding which MM we might enter next……. hmmmm…….
Oh yeah almost forgot – like Pete – strategically our finish position means we don’t have to move up to the ‘A’ next year – i’d forgotten to mention that cunning part of our plan – we just made sure of it by finishing 83rd – don’t want to be too risky!!!
Medium Score
Andy Stott & Steve Caldwell
The absence of toilet paper from the loos. Steve, always ahead, skipping across the tussocks whilst I staggered from one bog hole to the next trying to remain vaguely upright for more than two steps. The horror on realising that the ‘easy’ 10 point control next to the track was actually on top of a 200m cliff. The pain of being propelled at speed, up a hill, by Steve, to our last control on day 1 after 32 km of trudging. Surprise at finishing day 1 in 11th place ahead of Paul (Murrin). Dry socks and cramp. The amazing Moroccan couscous concoction and disgusting custard served up by the aforesaid skipping master chef. The gloom seeping out of the hole in Nicki and Rick’s tent, the ugly blister on Gerry’s heel, the invisibility of Vanessa and the laughter and pops from Ester and Bill’s tent. The black, moth-like competitors emerging from their cocoons at dusk to crowd and flutter around the fluorescent tubes illuminating the results. The party that didn’t happen. The realisation at some late stage in day 2 that it was warm enough to take off my cagoule, that the tussocks had all but disappeared and that my legs still moved. Autumn colours. The relief, and the dismay when we arrived at the finish 30 mins early and could have easily scored extra points if only our brains hadn’t stopped working. The soup. Andy Creber gloating.Andy Stott ‘running’ with Steve Caldwell finished 18th in the Medium Score event, covering about 57km.
Niki Morgan & Rick
“The Curious incident of the grog in the Night-time”
What I recall from the OMM:
Being so rubbish we were in the bottom third of the results.
Rick pointing out the direction of various controls, us leaving the path for one minute, getting consumed by the tussocks, me insisting on us resuming the path – and having a virtually pointless (in every sense of the word) first day.
Getting cold, wet, and extremely miserable.
Me offering to carry Rick’s pack when he was struggling (he declined) and hearing “you can carry mine if you like love” from every bloke within ear shot in the valley.
Getting to the overnight camp, trying to put up our new tent without getting hypothermia. Ripping big hole in brand new 1.2 kilo £300 Terra Nova tent. These incidents not enhancing mood.
The mysterious appearance of a bottle of red wine in our tent in the evening.
The sound of Esther’s bubble bed popping and sheiks of girlie laughter every hour.
Rick insisting on joining the 2 mile queue for the portaloos on Sunday morning making us 15 minutes late for our start – to me a dumpable (pardon the pun) offence.
Finishing – and never wanting to eat an Eccles cake, or do an OMM again – ever.
Being delighted at how fantastically all the other Chepstow Harriers did – especially Esther and Bill picking up the 7th overall prize and first mixed team prize.
