Red Kite Challenge.
21st/22nd June 2008: Couldn't resist another "Challenge"
The article in the Trailrunner magazine made it sound so inviting - a weekend
festival of trail running near Aberystwyth, in the hills of mid-Wales, for 'runners of
all levels and abilities'.
But the devil is always in the detail (literally in this case):
the Red Kite challenge of 11+ miles was on Saturday, and included the UK short-course
trail running championship;
followed by Sunday's event, the Ras y Diafol (Race the Devil) - a mere 18 miles,
starting from Devils Bridge. There was the option of doing this as a 3-stage relay,
but almost everyone seemed to be planning to do the whole thing.
I entered for both events, but not soon enough to plan any proper training.
A couple of times I managed to run the 7 miles from Bransgore to Wilverley prior to the usual
10-ish Mudlarks morning run, but that was all. Not exactly your marathon-style build-up!
Alec decided he could not get fit enough to run the hills, so came as supporter
(chauffeur, bag-carrier etc).
| We arrived in Wales on the Friday, and booked in at the camp site at Devils Bridge
where the Sunday race start and finish would be (very convenient).
We found these full-size cast-metal sculptures of animals dotted all over the site, as well as
old red phone-boxes, and various old farm implements - a strange mixture.
The weekend weather forecast was horrendous and we were anxiously aware of the heavy showers drumming on our roof in the night. But a peek out of the curtains in the morning was encouraging - overcast, but no clouds down on the hills. Only a short morning drive to the Saturday race start at the Red Kite visitor centre - the race didn't start till 1pm, but the weekend included trail walks as well as runs, and these started earlier, so we wanted to be sure of getting a parking spot for the campervan. |
 |
 We start round the lake |
The race started with a deceptively easy circuit of a small lake, but then it was straight into the zig-zag up the steep hillside, and then continuously up and down with no respite. There was a surprising lack of real mud, but lots of loose shale on the tracks - especially on the mountain-bike circuit, which also included lots of those little humps which the cyclists love. The weather was actually clear enough to appreciate the views from the tops across to the sea. We had been told that if we finished in under 2 hours, we would be in time to see the regular feeding of the red kites at 3pm. As I came down the last hill, I could see so many of them swooping around - they obviously knew dinner was due. |
Next morning dawned bright and breezy - or rather, blowing a gale. I joined the small group of runners for the race start at the camp-site reception, wondering if my tired legs would even get me up the first mile on the road. As soon as it started uphill, my race-plan kicked in - walk all the ups. Fortunately there were several others in a similar frame of mind, and I fell in with a group of 3 guys going at a similar pace, and we had a very sociable run/walk. The route was very well marked with tapes and signs, and frequent drinks stations with jelly-babies and sultanas to keep us going.
| The finish at the campsite was right next to our campervan,
and as I ran the final section through the field (yes, I could still manage a run!),
Alec was already putting on the kettle.
Although my time was extremely slow, I got 1st fv60 again; a prize holdall for the race, and a cut-glass goblet for the combined 2-race challenge. It's a pity there were not more entries - I guess some people were put off by the weather forecast, and the cost of fuel to get there. It was a well-organised event, and extremely friendly, and I would definitely do it again, even though my quads were still aching days later. |
 |
| Saturday: | 52nd of 95 finishers (10th female) in 1h:49m:25s. | Winning time 1h:14m:50s |
| Sunday: | 24th of 35 finishers (6th female) in 3h:18m:39s. | Winning time 2h:14m:23s |
According to my GPS we climbed a total of 3,200 feet on Saturday, and 5,400 feet on Sunday.
For comparison, Snowdon is only 3,500 feet above sea level. No wonder the legs ached!
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