Hardmoors 50 (55): It’s all about surviving!

There are so many amazing races to choose from that it’s rare for me to run a race more than once; which says something about what a special race the Hardmoors 55 is. This was the third time I had run what I think is probably my favourite race and was a particularly special year as not only was it the race’s 10th anniversary, but it also formed part of the official celebrations of 50 years of the Cleveland Way. To celebrate this milestone the organisers had tweaked the usual route and added in a double ascent of iconic Roseberry Topping, making the race about a mile shorter than usual, but with a significant amount of extra climbing.

The weather forecast had been atrocious all week and despite my optimism that this would change as the weekend approached, by the Friday it was clear that we were in for some seriously stormy conditions. I made my way up to Guisborough the day before and after setting up my tent in the field next to the Race HQ was soon smoothly through registration and had my tracker attached to my pack ready to go.

I was up bright and early on the Saturday morning ready for the 8am start and by now the weather had taken a turn for the worse. I had brought both my OMM Kamleika waterproof and a heavier Goretex jacket, but decided to stick with my trusty OMM jacket as I knew we had some big climbs right from the start and I felt I would be too warm in full Goretex. To compensate I made sure that I had two extra warm layers in my pack, a Rab mid layer and an Inov-8 Thermoshell Primaloft top, which gave me confidence that I had the kit to deal with anything the weather would throw at us.

It was great to catch up with lots of familiar faces from previous races (the queue for the ladies’ loos had the feel of a school reunion!) but it was soon time to head out into the car park ready for the start. There was a lot of discussion about how the weather conditions would affect race times, but as one of the other runners wisely put it: ‘In this weather it’s just about surviving,’ the perfect reminder of the mindset needed for these conditions.

Guisborough to Roseberry Lane (total distance: 5 miles)

Down in Guisborough it was very wet, but not cold as we set off up the road heading for Guisborough Woods. I knew that there were a couple of early stiles where a queue would develop, so kept a good pace up the hill – I had had enough of stile related fights at the Belvoir Challenge! I was already feeling quite warm so took off my Buff and popped it in my pocket ready for the dreaded Tees Link. The Tees Link path climbs sharply from the bottom of Guisborough Woods, to the top of the escarpment at Highcliff Nab and is a notorious mud-fest. As anticipated the mud was awful, but I was pleased to find I had good grip in my Saucony Peregrines and I passed lots of runners on my way to the top.

Reaching the top of the climb up to Highcliff Nab (photo by Steven Carter)

As we reached the top of the climb, the full force of the wind hit and gave us the first sign of what was in store. I headed across the moor towards Roseberry, getting into a good rhythm as I enjoyed myself skipping across the flagstones and trying to avoid the bogs and puddles.

As I reached the gate that leads down to Roseberry Topping I felt mentally prepared for the challenge of the double ascent. The first climb passed surprisingly quickly on fresh legs; it was very wet and windy on the top and the wind whipped my words away as I thanked the brave marshals who were stationed at the summit and headed down the other side. This was the first time I had been down this side of Roseberry Topping and the descent seemed to go on for ever on the slippery mud, especially knowing we would be turning round at the bottom to head back up. Faster runners were now coming back up the other way and concentration was required to avoid sliding into them!

As we reached the trees I wondered if that would be the turnaround point, but we continued to descend. I half-jokingly asked a marshal if we were nearly there yet, but he thought I was talking about the whole race rather than the checkpoint and just laughed! Finally I made it to the bottom of the endless flights of steps, before grabbing a handful of jelly babies and setting off back up the climb.

Roseberry Lane to Kildale (total distance: 10 miles)

The climb back up was a bit of a slog, but I just worked away steadily and was happy to arrive back at the wet and windy summit. The initial descent from Roseberry needed to be tackled with care as we were being blown down the hill and it would have been very easy to slip, but then I enjoyed the more gentle run down to Gribdale Terrace which got my legs moving again before an easier climb up to Captain Cook’s Monument.

From here it was downhill all the way to Kildale; first on easy tracks through the woods and then more steeply down the road. It was a lot more sheltered down here in the valley, but you can still see how heavily it was raining in this photo captured by Sport Sunday photographers.

Looking a bit damp approaching Kildale (photo by Sport Sunday)

I reached Kildale in 2 and a half hours, feeling in good shape. After only 10 miles I didn’t really feel the need for anything from my drop bag, but I ate some custard and had a cup of coke, all ably assisted by one of the attentive marshals who couldn’t do enough to help. In hindsight I should have tried to eat a little more here as there wouldn’t be another opportunity for more substantial food options until 20 miles further on at Osmotherley.

Kildale to Clay Bank (total: 19 miles)

As I climbed out of Kildale I could see the storm clouds rolling across the edge of the moors and we began to be exposed to the worst of the weather. I was glad to have packed a pair of clear goggles and these protected my eyes from the hail.

Looking cheerful on the moors above Kildale despite the weather (you can’t see the goggles tucked under my hood)!

We were now running directly into the wind and it was difficult to make progress. The rain became torrential and the wind whipped clouds and rain upwards over the edge of the moors. Sharp needles of rain were stinging my face, even through my hood, and the paths were rapidly becoming rivers. I had planned to run most of this section, but was forced to conserve energy, running when the wind eased slightly. The wind was swirling around and despite the twists and turns of the path, always seemed to be into our faces. It was impossible to speak to other runners, but everyone was making sure to peer under each other’s hoods, looking out for each other and checking we were all safe. Despite the weather I was enjoying myself, but was happy to enter the more sheltered section of path leading down to Bloworth Crossing and be able to run more easily.

As we turned right at Bloworth the wind was suddenly blowing sharply from the left. It took me by surprise and in bracing against it I tweaked the top of my right leg. It didn’t feel too bad, but reminded me of how easy it would be to pick up a race-ending injury in these conditions.

As I descended towards Clay Bank the rain eased and I could see the ominous shapes of the big hills approaching. I enjoyed running down to Clay Bank, laughing at the grouse doing their best not to get blown away, but I was aware that my right leg was feeling tight after the tweak at Bloworth Crossing.

The descent to Clay Bank with big hills looming (photo taken during a recce on a much calmer day!)

Clay Bank to Scugdale (total: 26 miles)

The few miles between Clay Bank and Scugdale are by far the toughest section of this race. There are four big climbs and descents , the first three in quick succession over the big hills known as the Three Sisters with sharp stepped climbs, followed by steep descents, then another steep climb up to Carlton Bank before a long and mostly gradual downhill to Scugdale.

After a brief respite around Clay Bank, as I squeezed through the gaps of the Wainstones rocks at the top of the first big climb I was again exposed to the full force of the wind. Several people were blown off their feet here. I concentrated on making economical progress and using as little energy as possible. I was climbing and descending well, but my right leg was continuing to seize up and was starting to cause some pain around my knee. Annoyingly I also managed to pull the top off the valve of my soft flask here and couldn’t work out how to fix it; thankfully I knew there were plenty of checkpoints on the route, so being down to one flask wasn’t too much of an issue.

Heading through Lordstones Country Park my spirits were raised by the cheering supporters, especially a man in full robes and beating a giant drum! However, as I climbed up Carlton Bank I felt as though all the energy was draining from my legs; I recognised I needed to eat more and quickly fished out a bag of sweets to eat as I climbed. This gave me the sugar rush that I needed, but I was still feeling hungry and knew I needed to eat something more substantial at Scugdale checkpoint.

I settled into a steady pace on the long descent to Scugdale; I felt I was going a bit too slowly, but if I tried to speed up then my leg and knee felt tight and painful and I was forced to slow down again. As we reached the checkpoint a runner who had followed me across the moors kindly commented on how consistent my pace was, which cheered me up considerably.

Other than sweets, the main food on offer at Scugdale was Jaffa cakes. I don’t normally like Jaffa cakes but, remembering that despite this I had managed to demolish an entire packet of them within an hour when running from Paris to London last year, I decided to give them a try. They clearly agree with me when running long distances as they tasted delicious and I took a handful with me as I left the checkpoint!

Scugdale to Osmotherley (total: 31 miles)

I now had more energy again, but my right leg was quite painful and I knew that I needed to look after it carefully if I was going to get to the end. I was slowing down markedly and several runners passed me on this section.

The descent to Osmotherley was hard going on the narrow, muddy path, but my leg felt less painful when I reached the road. This was reassuring as I knew that the ground became less technical from here and I hoped that this would help my leg to ease up. Although it was still windy, the rain had stopped and my clothes had dried. I had plenty to eat from my drop bag in Osmotherley and quickly showed my headtorch for the kit check, then headed back out of the door to find that the sun had even come out.

Osmotherley to Sneck Yate (total: 39 miles)

My leg was beginning to feel less painful on the easier tracks and coupled with the sunshine this helped me feel positively cheerful as I left Osmotherley. I thought back to the last time I had climbed up here to Square Corner on the 2017 Hardmoors 110 and how I had felt as though I was very much on the home straight (despite still having 20 miles to go!).

Having reached the top of the climb back onto the moors I had been expecting to run on the good wide tracks, but the weather had a last sting in its tail and another band of rain and strong winds whipped across the edge of the moor, slowing my progress and dishing out another good soaking. It was getting dark and I put my headtorch on as I reached High Paradise Farm. The darkness fell at the right time to show the disco checkpoint at Sneck Yate at it’s finest – this has become a bit of a Hardmoors institution now and the fairy lights and music never fail to make me smile! I grabbed another handful of Jaffa cakes and carried on.

Sneck Yate to White Horse (total: 43 miles)

Heading up the hill from the checkpoint I realised that the end of my big toe felt a bit sore and wondered if I was getting a blister. It was a shock to look down and see in the light of my headtorch that half of my trainer was covered in blood. I debated whether I needed to stop to have a look, but it was really cold and exposed on the edge of the moor, plus it was not actually very painful. I decided that as long as it didn’t get any worse I would push on to the White Horse checkpoint and sort it out there.

The wind was still blowing strongly and slowing my progress and worrying about my bloody trainer meant I probably didn’t push myself quite as hard as I could have done. The descent down to the White Horse checkpoint was a nightmare, sliding down the narrow, muddy path; it was very painful on my right knee, but I reminded myself that this was the last tricky descent of the race and forced myself to just get it done.

I was happy to reach the checkpoint and one of the medics helped me have a look at my foot. Once I got the trainer off, although my foot was covered in blood, the actual wound was pretty insignificant. I didn’t have far to go now so we patched up my toe with gauze and tape, put on a clean sock and I was sent on my way with strict instructions to get it cleaned up properly at the finish!

White Horse to Helmsley (total: 53 miles)

The rain had finally abated and there was a beautiful starry sky overhead. The wind was now feeling cold, so as I climbed the steep steps back up from the White Horse I changed to my warmer Montane Prism gloves. These were great for keeping my hands warm for the next few miles, only for them to become way too hot as I reached the more sheltered paths towards the end of the Cleveland Way!

I was making good progress on the easy path leading back towards Sutton Bank and cheering on other runners as they headed in the other direction on the out and back to the checkpoint; however, the next couple of miles were a muddy, slippery mess through the woods and across the fields to Cold Kirby. My various injuries were now feeling much better, but the mud was draining my spirits in a way that the weather had not succeeded in doing all day and I was settling in for a steady plod to the finish.

Thankfully, at this point I was caught by a friend, Ricky, who was still running strongly. I decided to try to keep up with him for a bit and this was just what I needed to shake me out of my torpor and get me running strongly again. The last few miles flew by as we chatted away, pushing each other to keep running and passing lots of other competitors.

Coming down to Helmsley we could see Helmsley castle (the symbol of the Hardmoors races) lit up against the lights of the town. It seemed a fitting end to a tough and memorable day. I was entertained to pass a brightly-lit restaurant as we made our way through Helmsley; the diners inside enjoying their Saturday night out providing a sharp contrast to the muddy and bedraggled runners passing the window. Then it was up through the town and along the long road to a very warm welcome at the finish.

Helmsley Castle on the Finishers’ Medal

I finished in 14 hours 35 minutes, my slowest ever Hardmoors 55, but at 172nd I think my highest placing – a reflection of the tough conditions which led to slower times throughout the field and to well over 100 runners failing to finish.

I sought out the medics who cleaned my foot properly and discovered that the cause of all the blood was a small wound on the end of my big toe, probably only a cut from a piece of grit or a small blister, but it’s location had meant it had just continued to bleed. I had some food and spent some time chatting to other runners and applauding those still coming in. Then it was time to get a lift back to Guisborough and get some sleep.

Or so I thought…

As a measure of quite how bad the weather had been, I arrived back in Guisborough to discover that my tent had been blown away. Instead of being able to tumble into my cosy bed, I ended up grappling with a wet tent in the dark, bundling everything up and ending up trying to get some sleep crammed into the back of the car! An eventful end to a tough race!