From Peter Shelley…
The Three Peaks Fell Race bills itself as ‘The Marathon with Mountains’. Personally I prefer its description as ‘three fell races and a trail race’. Alison Weston, returning in 2024 for her 23rd running of the event, described it as ‘The Four Peaks’. Whether it is the unique combination of running challenges, the geological inconvenience of Pen Y Ghent and Whernside being a half marathon apart, the changing spring conditions, valleys being in one season and summits in another, this event has a habit of finding your weak spot and publicly exposing it.
The race has a fantastic history captured in books, film and a roll call of illustrious winners. The organisation and atmosphere are terrific, the scenery spectacular and the support on the course outstanding.
My heart connects with the event, but my head, eyes, hips, knees, calves and feet beg to differ.
After one previous attempt in 2017 took me 4:41:23, 1 minute 23 second outside a second-class finish, following a fall and cramp attack coming off Ingleborough, I had unfinished business with the Three Peaks. That’s not to say I planned or trained at length. Entry came down to a last-minute Hobson’s Choice between Three Peaks and the Fellsman. Not even remotely prepared for the Fellsman, I went for the 3P. I’ve done the Bob Graham. How hard can it be?
As it happens, quite hideously hard.
Everything went swimmingly until the ascent of Whernside. I went out on a 4:30 pace plan, kept to it up Pen Y Ghent, gained some time and places on the descent before settling into what I thought was a sensible pace for the trail half marathon to Ribblehead. Arriving at the checkpoint 15 mins ahead of schedule, I was unsure whether I should feel confident or worried. I moderated my pace, which was easy to do up the murderous Whernside ascent, but got cold and felt twinges of cramp on the descent. I stopped to stretch my calves near Bruntscar, at which point the left one went into full spasm. The muscle moved up the leg into a tight pulsating ball. I lay on the ground, shouting theatrically, and was helped by a spectator to stretch the leg out (thank you thank you!).
I resumed running but had to manage the cramp. Even taking all the salt tablets I had with me did not eliminate it (note to self: drink more. You’re 56 and should know by now). Climbing Ingleborough and the run into Horton were horrendous. A headache came on, and my coordination deteriorated. Even my eyesight went a bit squiffy. I dropped off my pace plan and felt like I had no energy but somehow managed to finish in 4:39:16. Since 2023 2nd class extends to 4:50 due to an altered route which is 1k longer. I call that a win.
Lying in the grass just after the finish, relieved and satisfied but aching all over, I felt like my skeleton had been broken down and reassembled incorrectly.
A grand day out, then. Congratulations to Harriers Dave, Alison, Sacha and Kate, all of whom beat the challenging cut-offs and completed this gruelling race.
I enjoyed the race village, chatting to competitors (Ilkley Harriers and others), the support out on the course (it really makes a difference), the bean chilli and the prize giving.