"Each step forward has a sacred meaning of its own"   Sri Chinmoy

Craig Yr Allt Winter Race - Jan 2023 - Cardiff

pic - Nick Dallimore / Flickr

After the Dart 10k got cancelled and I turned my attention to fell running again back in the summer of 2022, I had resolved to try and run a fell race every month through the year leading up to the Hellvellyn Triathlon. The first 2 were easy to find, Fan Brycheiniog falling on the day of my cancelled Dart 10k Swim and Mendip Muddle being my local event just down the road. November I missed out - too late with signing up for the Sugarloaf race! I found it fully booked, so I guess these days with a fell race if you snooze you lose. A far cry from my last stint at regular fell running when I ran in events with only around 20 (Blaengwynfi) or in one case half a dozen (Sourton) entrants. That increase in numbers is great for the sport - more people sharing the joy - but means I have to get my life together and actually plan my running events the way I do my triathlons - months in advance!

Craig Yr Allt used to be one of my two local mountains when I lived in Cardiff. The better known Garth (subject of the Hugh Grant movie about the englishman who went up a hill and came down a mountain) sits to the west of the Taff just a few miles north of the city, while across the valley sits the understated, less well known, wild and beautiful Craig Yr Allt.

The race was aimed at newcomers as well as The Usual Suspects and that meant a well marked course, something I always appreciate. I can read maps and use a compass but combining that with running at full gas is a bit of a juggling act. A recce before the race is the best policy for me - allows you to learn the route and then run without needing your map, but being many miles from most mountain events these days I don't get that luxury.

We gathered on a road around half a mile from the Mountain View Ranch who had rented their car park to the race for the day, having negotiated deep standing water on the lanes that were a portent of things to come. It really had been one of the wettest, soggiest spells of weather you can imagine and the organiser warned us the race route was the boggiest and soggiest he had ever seen it. Running in trabucos as usual rather than fell shoes (it's a long story, mostly about achilles and metatarsal issues) I knew the down hills would be a challenge as per usual but the hard trail sections would be a breeze.

I positioned myself around a third to half way back in the strung-out start and from the first moment I was easing up the order, passing others when the lane widened out enough to allow it. Soon some faster runners who'd been caught out at the back surged past me too. I think I was breaking even by the time we came out on to the hillside and followed some easy arrows up seriously narrow trods towards the ridge. It was a good pull up to the top, opening out to a wide path and clear fellside and that's where the first photos are from.

Once on the ridge we didn't cover much ground before diving down the side on a steep track only one runner wide (so I was overtaken only by those brave and supple enough to bound down over the tussocks either side). That brief spell on the top did give us views over the Taff Vale though and the craggy face of The Garth on the other side of the valley - memories of Pentyrch Hill Race began to surface, but I didn't have the mental space to dwell on them once that steep descent was underway. At the bottom, as we had been warned in the briefing, we joined  path that thought it was a stream, skirting the bottom of the hill and splashing up muddy water in all directions. Quite a sight seeing all those runners kicking up all that water and an exhilarating section of the race too.

There was another ascent of the ridge next, this time up the steep northern side, a hands-on-knees-pull in places. I was feeling OK and also feeling like I was on about the right effort level - perhaps holding back slightly but that's no bad thing when you're still short of the half way mark with another big climb to go. My watch was reading a pretty low HR and I realised it just wasn't accurate - I was definitely up in the 90%+ zone whatever the technology might be saying. The opposite happened in my last fell race, where I read a max HR of 208. Definitely false readings - is it the freezing weather and the way it affects my skin, do the veins constrict and hide from the optical signal that reads HR from the wrist? Who knows. Anyway I don't need a gadget to tell me when I'm "in the red" or very close to it. I wasn't right on the limit though, as the experience of having palpitations for a couple of days at Christmas (following - but not necessarily caused by - a run at absolutely max effort on 24th and a hard session on box hill the very next day) had left me with an instinctive caution that was holding back my effort levels just a bit.

Back up on the ridge we were instantly caught by the wind and my attention was immediately caught by the expansive views, right down to the Bristol Channel and out across the hills. The ridge was far from flat, with a dip down into the saddle and then a stiff climb up to the western end of Craig Yr Allt. The descent from here was familiar, a winding path down towards the Taff Trail that I had used as a training route years before. Descending is always my weak part of a fell race, especially now that my feet won't survive in fell shoes so I'm in the grippiest trail shoes I can find which, although well lugged, don't match the grip  of a walsh. Despite that I held my own on the downhill and then managed a hard effort on the muddy part of the Taff Trail, the only flat section of the race.

The last ascent went well and I remembered the saddle on the ridge would crop up later on, so I didn't spend all my remaining energy in the first part of the climb. Once at the high point I made good time along the ridge, but lost a few places on the final descent as I was outpaced by some nimbler or braver or more reckless runners.

In the end I was 38th out of just over 100 runners and just about in the top half of the over 50s so I hit my race target - I had estimated a time of around 40 minutes for this one and that proved almost spot on, with a finishing time of 39.12. The high point of the race (in both senses) was arriving on the ridge to see the breathtaking views out over Cardiff and the sea. Thanks to Nick Dallimore and others for sharing pictures online.

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