Chorlton Runner and Black Sheep member Nick Syrett blogs about what led him to take on the Old Country Tops fell race in Cumbria, his preparation and how he got round the 36.7 mile (59 km) race last month (may).

”I've always felt appropriately Sheepish (Chorlton Runners Black Sheep splinter faction) when people identify me as a fell runner. I don't really run on the Cumbrian fells. They are bigger beasts with some potentially loaded weather to boot, so as a benchmark of my running identity I have been slowly lining up something appropriate for years.

A man running along a trail path with mountains / high fells looming in front — In the valley heading towards the finish in the Old Country Tops fell race

The Old County Tops (OCT) race sounded like a great fit a few years back and with a few covid delays, I lined it up with a 12 month ramp up. I’d run 30 miles with 6,000ft of ascent before, but 36 miles and 10,000ft or so would definitely be a step up. The Peaks skyline (2021) took about 5h45, the OCT could take about 10 hrs because of the terrain differences. Different beast.

Preparation

So the idea was hatched amongst my fellow creaking weekend running pals, and was met with a mix of lowly muffled “yeah, maybes” . A serious plan and a couple of long, hard, hilly races (ALs) are needed to fullfill entry requirements, so races of increasing distance and difficulty were carefully selected roughly each month. The Roaches (15m 3700ft) (November), Trigger (24m 4500ft) and The Hebden (24m 4000ft 2 weeks later -both January), The Kinder Dozen in February (24m 10,000ft)- an LDWA ”challenge” and an opportunity to put in some miles with my OCT partner Michael Taylor- ex-Black Sheep, now with Pennine, and finally but most importantly, the race route recce w/e with Michael and all round knowledgeable/good guy and tour guide, Rob Downs, that saw us take in most of the route and a few bonus fells for the craic over 2 days - a 37m and 14,000ft of ascent weekend. Oof! The increasing ascent/descent gradients were being felt in the quads- good training. Not so good for Mondays/Tuesdays! As a final long run/tune up 3 weeks before OCT day, Charlie Beck and I ran from home (Chorlton) to Edale. A 34m, 4200ft ascent steady escape from suburbia to the hills on trails.

I was happy that I'd done the elevation, the distance and most of the route. Putting the 3 elements together on race day however could be a different experience!

With the weather set warm and fair, extra kit, snack/hydration/electrolyte plans had to be factored in. I’d had brushes with some of these failings on the training journey, but this would be the hottest temperatures I'd run in this year, so the body may not be too prepared even if my mind was.

Race day

Race day alarm call was 0530am. The standard pre-race shite nights sleep was shrugged off and the reliable coffee/porridge combo was scoffed. Our motley crew of me, Michael and Matt Owens headed off to the Langdales for the pre-race checks and last minute wee fest. At 0800am in glorious warm early summer sunshine, 101 pairs of running partners set off cautiously in pairs towards the glorious landscape that dwarfed all around us. Steady away..

It was lovely to see Alice and little Martha, Lois and little Flynn waving us on through the Grasmere lanes and the weekend bolt hole that we had coincidentally rented (exactly on the race route!). Steady away…

The first climb up Helvellyn was hot, airless and a sign of things to come as the pack strung out. Not quite strung out enough for the 2 grumpy runners behind me who got a small water flick from my hat dunk as they walked THROUGH the stream behind us. I lost count of the total number of hat dunks in streams, but it would have been in double figures.

We made good progress up the very steep Dollywaggon and onwards up to the summit. One mountain down. Steady away..

The recce weekend and clear weather meant we nailed the off piste line off the top and down the really steep section to Thirlmere reservoir. It always impresses me that our home drinking water flows from here at a constant 3 mph to our tap. GCSE math type questions about when it would arrive at home 100 miles away try to distract my thoughts - that really don’t need diverting on this steep, zig zaggy tough section.

fuel station

The first fuel station arrives at Thirlmere/Wythburn car park and as well as top sarnies, fluids and flapjack to revive the spirits, Lois, Alice and the wee ones are there again to cheer us on and provide a well appreciated lift. Matt was about 15-20 mins ahead apparently. Hmm, steady away ?! Are we going at the right pace? I'd have thought they'd be further ahead than that…hmm doubts.

The next section takes us slowly up the windy Wyth burn with its tempting pools and falls until a flat plateau appropriately named “The bog” stretches out across a Glacial valley floor. Hot, energy sapping tussocky bogs make for slow going as one bog monster has a go at Michaels leg and pulls him right in from nowhere. Much amusement is garnered from all around us save Michael who saunters on regardless. Steady away…

Angle Tarn

We cross Greenup edge and start a hot, steady but runnable climb up towards Angle Tarn. Although I'm running, we lose about 6 places quickly. The race element is not a priority for me, but I feel like I have a flat tyre. My left heel is a bit sore and my left hamstring is getting a bit crampy. A glance at the distance. 14 miles! Shit. I might struggle here.

Shoe adjusted. Salt stick boshed, a little dynamic stretch off and a little more food. Steady away.

SCAFELL PIKE

Scafell Pike is a slow ascent across some very lunar-like rocky terrain. We're passing lots of day trippers, but no more runners come past. 2 mountains down. Puncture seemingly fixed!

The descent off Scafell Pike is another crazy zig zag mashup of scree, rock, tussock and smooth grass. About 600m down in about 1km. A calf cramp half way down doesn't help!

We cruise along the undulating lush grassy valley to the next fuel stop at Cockley Beck and don't see a soul on route. Blissful Lakeland scenery flanks a long and winding succession of trods towards the next milestone. As we arrived at the aid station we see Matt and his run partner sat under the shade of a tree looking bad. Dizzy, sick and a proper space cadet. We offer what little help we have/supplies already consumed, and offer some words that hopefully don't crack whatever resolve is left in the grey shell of a Celtic man. 13 miles to go and a big climb ahead with no chance of an early bail out.. As it turned out later, 24 pairs of the 101 that started would DNF/be timed out, illustrating the tough race conditions that day.

Perspective

With thoughts firmly on the rights/wrongs of whether Matt should carry on, we slogged up Cockley Beck towards Grey Friar, my niggles and negative voices suddenly muting themselves in comparison to Matt’s struggles. Perspective. This was useful as that climb goes on forever. We aim for the Mont Blanc shaped peak in the heavens that doesn't seem to get any closer in the sapping heat. Steady away..

Michael continues to glide effortlessly along, long strides gobbling up the terrain with seemable ease.

Thoughts turned to our successful Coniston recce weekend and the potential for Rob D to pop up somewhere like the energetic jack-in-a-box that he is. After about 30 mins of slogging uphill, hands driving down on the grumbling thighs, we start to reel in the Mont Blanc look alike. Next to this peak, on a high rocky outcrop giving a good vantage point, was the Man Blanc himself. Spirits soared as Rob's silhouette was spotted like a lone, white mountain goat high on the rocks. He thought we were quite well up the field, but just getting to the top of Old Man was my only thought. We told him of Matt's situation, in case he saw a flailing, pale skeleton behind us and may be of assistance somehow.

The summit of Old Man appeared painstakingly slowly.. there was a brief worry that it was actually the one in the distance… but the runners coming back at us from this out and back section looked familiar enough from my afternoon puncture at Angle Tarn. 3 summits down. We're going to do this! High fives, quick selfie and off.

Two white men wearing caps and running vest in front of a fell top — Michael and Nick take a selfie on Scafell Pike

I wouldn't call it a spring in the step, but there was definitely some pep in the step. Someone said to me "remember it's all downhill from there". I think my legs and I cursed that person a good few times before the finish!

We passed another pair struggling a bit, but saw nobody else for the last 7 miles or so. Steady away…

getting to the home straight

A bonus water stop on the unpleasantly steep, tarmac Wrynose pass (downhill) confirmed that there was just a few miles to go. Nothing but steady left!

I cruised in on fumes reminiscent of a car that had been on the red fuel reserve light for longer than is ideal. I was happy to finish quicker than the 10hr guestimate, especially considering the hot conditions and the 25% DNF rate. We ended up 21st pair of the 101 that started in 9 hr 26 mins. I was chuffed to finish, and slowly, increasingly chuffed with the time we managed. We even finished ahead of Tom Hollins, recent Barkley marathon legend - perhaps he was doing x2 laps!

The great weather meant the navigation wasn't really an issue, but Michael had it all in his easy stride. A blessing and a curse. Matt carried on and somehow finished the race. Remarkable powers of recovery following multiple lie downs and vomit! Lazarus made it!

Nick Syrett
Chorlton Runner and Black Sheep member

For more information about fell running visit the Black Sheep Hill Runners page on our website or you can request to join our Black Sheep Facebook page.