Snowdonia Trail Marathon
I knew it was going to be a tough one, a lot of people had forewarned me. Hearing tales of how it was the one that broke them, making grown men and woman cry, others vowing never to run it again but hey Nicola was about to return for the second time, how bad could it be? I was confident with the mileage, having ran Liverpool the month before, the ascent I was almost sure of with Strava having me at 67,599ft for the year but I was worried about the terrain. I hadn’t done much fell running. Trails and forestry paths I love but the tuffty grass and mud saps me, I was hoping there wouldn’t be too much.
Getting off to a rocky start in the morning, waking up late meant I rushed out of hotel in panic, thankfully Nicola and Kristian were a 5 min walk to the start line so I was able to fill my bladder (and empty another one) in the comfort of their hotel as well as sort my kit bag out and check that I had both trail shoes with me.
We head off to the start line, lots of people are checking kit, warming up and chatting. There is a 10k, half marathon and the marathon all setting off in half hour intervals. We listen to the briefing and off we set. We are lucky with the weather, throughout the week it had been threatening to thunder and lightning but we have sunshine…..it’s actually a little too warm as we start our first climb. I’m feeling the weight of my pack and wondering if I’ve over prepared, I’m pretty sure it’s close to the weight of a small baby. Thinking of conserving energy for the remaining 22 plus miles, we break into a run walk, it seems that a lot of people are thinking the same as we file along single track up towards Foel Goch. A change of route meant that we miss out a large section of road, usually used to make up the time on the first climb; instead we have extra miles of mud, bog and stiles. It was probably the most fun part of the run, there was camaraderie as we queued for the stiles and gates, and reels of laughter as one person sunk thigh deep in bog or a slip slide Bambi style through the mud.
We eventually leave this bog behind before crossing our first railway into Rhyd ddu. This for me and Nic, is the quietest we have run, which says a lot for myself and little miss chatterbox (self titled;)) as we meander through Beddgelert forestry onto the first feed station…………..however just before we get there, roughly 400 metres before we get there actually, I take a tumble. I’m still not 100% sure what caused me to fall, to be fair underfoot was flat and unassuming but my head bounced off the path like a rubber ball. After the initial shock and the confusion of getting back up on my 2 feet we make a start for the station. At this point my head feels like it's rolling the other way. Fearing I’d stuffed this race up, the drama queen in me envisioned blood gushing from my forehead…as it happens there’s not a scratch on my head (well maybe the smallest of scratches just under my eye and the following day a slight bruise) it is however my shoulder and knees that bare the war wounds. Nic following her instinct as a nurse cleans me up and wipes me down and before long we’ve re-fuelled, hydrated and composed ourselves….we set off towards Nant Gwynant, along beautiful lakes and scenic streams, past farm houses and shepherds huts. The sun is still shining, although cooler than when we had initially set off. Before you we knew it we were back in the mud, slurry and rock, it was a little treacherous and again I wondered how I’d feel if the weather was cold and wet as in previous years. We start to climb towards Pen y Pass, passing sacks of boulders dropped enroute by chopper to create and maintain the path up. I pass a gentleman who is suffering badly with cramp, he has help on the way and he’s decided that this is not the year for him, although vows to return next year. As we near Pen Y Pass car park the spectators start to cheer. I am buoyed by this as I make the climb up. I finally worked out what has been looming over us all along, this foreboding climb ahead. I am super excited, we had made it this far, the weather was still fair, my left leg still attached (In the final 2 weeks of my plan I had suffered an injury and my training had been piss poor to be fair) but I was here, ready to take on this challenge!
Initially taking it slow as we climb along the Pen Y Pass, passing boulders and hikers, we were soon puffing and panting. The Pyg track is the shortest route up to Snowdonia peak but by no means the easiest, its tricky underfoot and gets quiet scrabbly towards the final section. This path seems to go on for an age, each turn I expect to see the summit but’s it’s just more climb until finally I can hear cheers but unfortunately the clouds have descended and all I can see is grey bleakness…..I press on and eventually summit. It’s taken me 1hr 10min to climb 3 miles but I loved every minute of it. The fact it’s like pea soup on top and I can see shit all, I don't care, the views on the way up were stunning! There’s a bit of banter on the top and me and Nic are in two minds whether to go for the trig point, we’re told it’s another 15 minutes up (or 10 if were run ha) we figure that could be an additional half hour onto our time, we decide the trig is for another day. We head down the Llanberis path….the worse bit of all. From the initial warm up mile to this point my injury hadn’t really bothered me…now however it was screaming ?!?! I have to say out of all the route, this was the worse section. I was ready for it to be over. We trundle along and the steam train passes us, toot tootling up the mountain. I start to notice houses and streets, cars and schools. Before long we’re back in the village and making our way to the finish, via a detour around the back through some fields, as if the 26.2 miles of lumpy bumpy wasn’t enough they throw in an additional mile of fun. We cross the line a staggering 7 hours 8 minutes; initially the only achy part of me is my cheeks from smiling so much. It’s tough but I thoroughly enjoyed it – Brutal but beautiful!
Lessons learnt…mmmm..let me think
Double check, triple check BOTH alarms….lateness does not make for a good start mentally or physically.
Pack light ….carrying a weight of a small baby on your back for 27 miles is not good. It’s one thing being prepared but was the 3.5 litres of Tailwind necessary; sure it was a remote course but plenty of feed stations along the way. Thankfully the weather was fair – didn’t even get to try out my fancy new jacket but carrying an extra 3 layers might have been over kill. Water/wind proof layer and possibly a base layer would of suffice. Hats, gloves are mandatory but 3 buffs and hand warmers, enough gels and power bars to feed an army? I need to rethink my kit bag for next time….
On another note...I took over 70 photographs of the route.  If I ever got my album sorted I'll post the link here! .
