Drover's Run

My first year foray into this strange sport of running has been ups and downs, undulating like the Welsh countryside. Like the Welsh countryside, the experience seduces with the promise of so much more amazing vistas to explore and yet the journey to the ‘promised land’ so to speak, is fraught with much gasping, cursing, sprains and pains. Perversely and tentatively I decided after being in and out of injury that I would enjoy the whole experience anyway and be gracious that I live in a place which offers many great opportunities to run and in some ways, to escape the worries and angst of every day life. It’s just me - the open road, the trails and the great outdoors. It is with such inspiring thoughts that I decided to sign up for Drover’s Run, an approximately 6 mile multi-terrain race and then the panic began!

Drover’s Run was supposedly to have been held in summer of this year which I thought, great as it will be nice and warm and the countryside will be really nice to run around it. Then, it had to be postponed because of lack of participant and the new date was set for 27 November and I thought then, maybe it was a good thing as it gave me more time to get myself used to running on different terrains. Though I was not too sold on the idea of running around in mud, rain and worse, wind.

Like a curse, on a summery day at a parkrun having just achieved a PB, my left foot finally gave up. It hurt like hell and I thought it as a little sprain or tendonitis or one of those niggles. The pain became quite unbearable and the foot getting more and more swollen. A visit to A & E the next day, confirmed it as a stress fracture. There was nothing I could do but rest, feeling sorry for myself and absolutely angry at myself. Anyhow, I thought, no problem I have months to recover before Drover’s, all will be well.

My optimism carried me through the many weeks of recovery. After 8 weeks of not running and feeling like a tub of lard, I got back into running. Slowly at first after having failed at first attempt 6 weeks into my fracture because the pain returned. All was going great, 8 weeks back into running (16 weeks from fracture) and the familiar throbbing returned. I was deflated because Drover’s was just a 3 weeks away. Nevertheless, optimism prevailed. Panic over. Well at least I thought so.

Finally, the day arrived. Set my alarm for an early rise. Looked at the window and it was lashing down with rain. It was howling wind outside and suddenly I felt quite apprehensive. Recovering fractured foot. Haven’t been running well for a few months. Mud. Rain and the dreaded HILLS. It was just not bear thinking about.

So quick breakfast and went through the calming routine of getting dressed and ready. I thought, maybe the brisk walk to the club to catch a lift would help calm my nerves. So blasting music in my headphones, singing to myself in my head, got myself to the club and then ride arrived, and off we went. Nerves were a bit on edge but under control so far.

Then we arrived at Brynna Community Hall and the wind farm on the distant hills greeted us. They looked as though they were mocking me. They were majestic and set so, very, very high up. Try as I might not to stare at them, I did . I normally do not warm up and do stretches before a run or race but that morning, I needed to , just for something to do to distract myself from thinking about the climb up them hills.

And so there we all were, at 9:30am at the start and we went off fairly quickly , as it was a little downhill run down a country lane. Perhaps at about 100 metres or so from the start, the gentle incline started. I was quite pleased because I thought, it was not too bad, Penarth Hill is a lot steeper and I could run up that. The inclined continued gently, legs and cardio still feeling not too bad. The inclines went on and on and on and then it was no longer an incline but a proper hill. I braved on for a bit, legs got a bit wobbly. Cardio was still ok. Legs got wobblier and hill got steeper. I could see others ahead of me stopped to walk and others behind me did the same. I thought, decision time - I could run out of steam trying to be what I am not and attempt to run up what seemed like an endless steep climb or swallow my pride and walk. So walked I did. Not proud of it. Hung my head down in shame and walked.

I don’t even know how long the climb was but it was a long walk. As I approached the official photographer half way up, I shook my head and he said ‘Come on.. Just a little burst’ and so like a pretender that I was, I did a short sprint and was captured on film strangely smiling and appeared to be running! That of course didn’t last long and slowly but surely I made it to the top of the hill, where the tarmac path stops and we are directed to off-road. Earlier on some lady did run past me up the hill and looked back to ask if I was alright. I just smiled and waved her on.

The off road route was just boggy, with grass, mud and puddles as we made our way up a gentle slope, heading towards the wind farm. This was the part of the race, I started to relax into and enjoyed because I could run most of it and even had time to look up around me and saw these majestic wind farms up ahead. It was quite a sight to behold. Green hills all round, and then these giant structures in front of you, it was quite mesmerising running towards them.

Then the route starts a slow gentle descend and I absolutely loved this part. Running down the hill, I could feel the sun on my back and in my face with a gentle breeze accompanying my descend. Picture perfect postcard views all around me and as I was running with music in my ears, I was almost humming a tune in my head!

All through the route, the stewards were fantastic - a few familiar faces from the park run were there ( the guys were from Brackla Harriers). It was at about 5km mark I think, at one of the kissing gates, the steward there said to me, all the hard bit over now. I thought, thank goodness! The path then changed from muddy slopes to mud and gravel for the next 3 km. It was very tempting to pick up speed as it was now fairly flat, just uneven in parts and little undulations but I thought better of it. I didn’t fancy slipping, sliding in mud or worse sprain my ankles in the process. So I slowly jogged and picked my way through. It was at this point that I looked behind me and in front of me. I looked behind me to check if I was last and I looked in front of me to see how many people I could possibly catch up with and perhaps, beat to the finish line. There was one behind and I think there were 4 ahead of me, including the lady who ran past me as I was walking up the hill.

And then like an angel, at the last kissing gate, a familiar Brackla Harrier face smiled and said it was now just 1.5 miles to the end and it was downhill all the way. I thought, I either take smaller steps to give myself some brakes going downhill or I let gravity do the work for me. Tentative at first but once I started, it was an exhilarating gravity assisted sprint downhill for the last 1.5 miles. It was quite fantastic! I think I shocked the lady who ran past me earlier when I sprinted past her.

It felt really great to finish at last. It was in no way a speedy race for me but it was not disappointing one either at 70 minutes. Total respect to all the winners. The guy who won it did it in 37 mins! Some amazing running that must have been. Free hot soup and bun devoured and it was time to get home after the prize giving. I came away with a sense of accomplishment and a little Welsh slate coaster. I have not done many races but I can truly say, I enjoyed this one very much. It was a small race with just over a 100 + participants in an amazing setting. Though it was quite a tough route, at least for me anyway, it is definitely a race I would return to and turn Drover’s Run into a personal sequel called ‘Drover’s Return’.

Drover’s Run is an approx 6 miles MT which was held on 27 Nov 2011- start from Brynna Commmunity Centre,near Llaharan. The race was organised in aid of The Chloe Bigmore Trust. More info here http://www.chloebigmore.co.uk/