Taming the Preseli Beast - 24th May 2014

This was another one of those races ‘I had to do’ as soon as I found out about it.  It started from my Gran’s village hall and circumnavigated 23.5 miles of the Preseli hills.  I thought the training I’d done for the London Marathon would help me endurance-wise but I had a nagging doubt about my abilities up and down hills, since I hadn’t done any such training since the Beacons Ultra last November.  I entered regardless, hoping for the best and thinking of it as ‘a fun day out’ in hills I was fairly familiar with.

The route!

I did two token off road training runs.  The Porthkerry 5 which was a fun race and the first run I’d actually enjoyed in a while, and a hot, sticky 7 miler in the woods outside Cardiff.  These two runs, it would be proved, would not be enough!

I was very relaxed about the race, not thinking much about it at all until Friday when I printed off the race map and tried to search (in vain) for the elevation profile online.  Dan and I arrived at Maenclochog village hall in ample time where there was a small gathering of pretty fell-savvy looking athletes, some very scantily clad too, considering the forecast was predicting we’d be getting a soaking at some point.

Before the beasting.

I picked up my race number, donned my hydration pack and lined up at the start.  Someone blew a vuvuzela and we were off.  Most people shot off, leaving me and around three or four others at the tail end. 

A few hundred metres through Maenclochog we took a right turn and we were off down our first trail, heading into the ‘Beast’s Lair’, a boardwalk trail through an ancient, swampy wood.  The field had thinned out considerably already, leaving me last but one!

After around a mile we left the wood and we were onto our first hill of the day, climbing up to Rosebush quarry.  The climbs were short but steep and my feet were already wet from walking through ankle deep mud. We were heading for Foel Eryr, the first proper hill of the day.

Once out of the quarry and onto the fell, I began to realise the enormity of the task at hand.  The turnaround point was at Newport but I could see the coast way in the distance and knew there was a lot of up and down before getting there.  Ah well, I thought, crack on, I’ll do this.

Foel Eryr was a pretty tame hill but the decent was the first of many quad crunchers.  I kept up a pretty good pace as we descended down into Cwm Gwaun and although by now I was the tail ender, I kept runners ahead in my sights.  I was pretty prudent with my hydration and nutrition (I didn't feel sick, hurrah!).

Six miles in and my body was already starting to feel the effects of the harsh terrain (and lack of training).  The left hip was protesting and my calf muscles were tight.  The climb out of Cwm Gwaun was near vertical but through the most amazing bluebell dotted trails.  By now I’d overtaken a couple who were running with their two huskies (or rather, being dragged by their two huskies, an unfair advantage methinks!) and approaching the half-way point at Newport.

Dinas Head - taken from http://preselibeast.wordpress.com/the-route/

The view out to Dinas Head and the sea was spectacular and the rain was holding off.  The descent down a track into Newport was pretty painful but as soon as we were through the town it was time to head up again, this time to the peak of Carn Ingli.  The one and only other time I’d been up Carn Ingli was the morning after a drunken night out at Gabriel’s nightclub in Cardigan when I was 18.  I’m sure the climb was just as difficult back then, but for slightly different reasons.

It was a pretty steep drag up to the top, with a few false summits thrown in for good measure.  I must admit to a few rest stops on the way up, if only to take in the view.  I was starting to catch up with a Lliswerry runner (Chris) ahead of me.  At the top of Carn Ingli is a large mound of rocks, and the course markers led us up and around these rocks!  Chris and I stopped and stared at the mound for a while, discussing how we were meant to get up there.  By this time, it had started raining a bit, adding to the slight stress of the situation.  It was a case of using hands and feet to negotiate our way up these rocks, which I quite enjoyed. 

Carn Ingli with its rocky peaks - taken from http://preselibeast.wordpress.com/the-route/

Up and over Carn Ingli and Chris peeled away from me on the descent. It was a fairly shallow descent in comparison but it was starting to get very uneven and boggy underfoot. Back down into Cwm Gwaun and Dan was there, waiting in the rain at a checkpoint.  A brief chat about how bloody hard the race was and it was time to head up a ridiculously steep trail through some woods, out of the valley and back onto the fells.

I could see Foel Cwm Cerwyn, Pembrokeshire’s highest peak, in the distance and the feel of dread at STILL having to go up there came over me.  I battled on, through the rain (thankfully it wasn’t too windy). It got boggier and wetter. 

I eventually arrived at the last big ‘feed’ station (some cups of water and a plate of jelly babies) where Dan was waiting for me again.  I was feeling pretty grumpy at this point and the couple with the dogs overtook me, leaving me in last place again.  I didn’t care, I just wanted to finish this damn thing.

The next bit was the worse.  Traversing the side of Foel Cwm Cerwyn was agony on the ankles.  As well as trying to move forward on a camber, it was incredibly muddy and slidey, sapping my energy with every step.  Eventually, after a lot of cursing, sloshing through the boggy trail but also a few ‘view stops’ I made it to the top.  The view at the top was worth it (I think).

It was now a case of getting back down to Maenclochog, around 3 miles away, mostly downhill.  Usually this would be a welcome prospect, but my legs were screaming at me, praying for me to stop this nonsense!  I plodded on, mainly running but slowing down to adjust my stride around the never-ending boggy bits.  I could see the guy with the white top in the distance and wondered if I could catch him.

Finally off the mountain, it was time to go back through the ‘Beast’s Lair’.  It was such a relief to be back on the relatively firm ground of the boardwalks.  On the final drag up the track to Maenclochog I had the guy in the white top in my sights, but I just didn’t have the energy to put on any kind of sprint finish.  By now, I was only capable of ‘run to that tree’ bursts of running.

Back onto the road and down through the village, some of the locals had stayed out to welcome us tail enders in.  The guy in the white top was only about 50 metres ahead of me, but I was resigned to my first ever last place.  I was quite proud of this though….it wasn’t like it was last place in the Race for Life.  It was last place in one of my toughest ever challenges.

Dan was there waiting for me at the finish and I slumped into his arms, exclaiming “that was sooo tough!!”.  I was wet and muddy and well and truly exhausted!

The aftermath

The free bowl of cawl and cake back in the village hall was massively welcome and as I inhaled it I reflected on one of my most challenging days out.

The route profile from my Garmin - 4850 feet of elevation gain!!!

Three days later and I’m still struggling to walk down stairs and vowing never to undertake such a race on barely any specific training again!  No regrets though.  As always, I’m glad I did it.