Longmynd Hike

This week I shall be attempting to complete the 50 mile Longmynd Hike for the fourth consecutive year.  I intend to discuss my journey to middle of the pack ultra-running greatness from avowed non-runner in future posts, so I won’t waste your time with it here, but that journey is somewhat summed up by my participation (again) in this hefty undertaking.

When I completed last year’s, in a fairly respectable joint 53rd place in a time of 13 hours and 8 minutes I vowed that was it, it could get no better than this.  I’d repeated almost to the minute my achievement from the previous year what possibly could be gained from doing it again.  Then the ‘what ifs’ kicked in.  Nagging doubts about time spent in checkpoints, missing a gate by 10 metres and the five minutes wasted standing dumbfounded on top of the Stiperstones convinced I’d gone the wrong way.

This all adds up, surely sub 13 is possible, I could be more awesome!

So there I was a Sunday morning in July 2018, lying in bed waiting for entries to open, panicked at the thought I might miss out, wife despairing whilst she lay there sensing the palpable anxiety.

You see it’s got me, the atmosphere at the start, all hope and expectation.  The realisation within 10 minutes that Shropshire has hills, maybe not big ones in global terms, but steep, brutal, ancient lumps that serves to expose every inch of your probable lack of training.

The camaraderie, I’ve started each of my three previous runs on my own, struggling to find anyone foolish and/or available to share the adventure with me, but never finished alone.  The design dictates that you are grouped after dark, but on each occasion you’ve formed your relationships that are going to carry you through the night.  By nightfall competition has gone out of the window and you strike up conversations as a means of sustaining the effort and distraction from the horrors going on in your lower limbs.  The shuffle through a deserted Church Stretton in the wee small hours to your wonderfully understated final check in and bacon sandwich is the most glorious way to finish.  You feel exclusive, only a few people are there to share it, but you are part of a club.

So this is for James, Henry, Phil, Andrew, Kathryn, Quentin, Joe and Matt .  Those people who suffered my company while they suffered and with whom my experience of this unique event is indelibly linked.

This year I’m starting with friends, which will be a new way to experience it and although we’ve all got different ambitions for the day, I’m looking forward to be able to finally share reflections over a pint.  Oh yeah and this is definitely….I mean definitely…..my last year.

See you at Kit Check!