TURNING POINT?
WIDDOP
In these eighteen months since returning to writing ramblings about my running, an evening fell race on the remote moors of Calderdale was alas the scene of some genuine signs of progression and a taste of racing yesteryear. In fact it felt like my best racing performance for well over two years. I set off strong and I stayed strong. Clayton-le-Moors man Peter Coates has been a regular sight well ahead of me this Summer and as a consistent, solid fell runner who is hitting the sort of times and placings that I believe I can still reach, Peter has naturally become the main opponent upon which I gauge myself. I was tucked in about twenty yards behind him for most of the first half of the race like his stalker. It appeared I might just be trending towards better form. The Kentmere race three days earlier proved to be the catalyst for something good at Widdop as I ran uphill sections surprisingly competently and generally found the art of pushing hard to be a more comfortable process of which I had some control and confidence. It was only the long section of choppier moorland terrain in the latter half of the race that staggered my progress. I lost ground on Peter and the two guys he was chasing as they all excelled through the rough stuff. I felt like I was all over the place but I couldn't hear anyone gaining - even when I had to stop to tie a lace - so I just kept focus on giving what I could and looked forward to hitting a section of ground with better running again. When that came after passing the trig point of Standing Stone Hill it was clear I was going to make little or no impression on the three runners way ahead as they had gained a minute or more on me, so now it was all about positional preservation. Fairly sure I was inside the top ten after some good running off Standing Stone, a left turn through a small gate at a wall left me unable to resist the slyest little glance across to see what sort of gap I had. Once upon a time the golden rule was to never look back in a race, but this Summer it's crept in to my game whether through weakness, lack of confidence or both. Anyway, this really was just a peripheral peek, but enough to recognise the Rossendale vest of Ashley Holt no more than thirty yards in my wake. I'd forgotten about the Holt, having not seen him ahead earlier on and although far from on top of his own running game at the moment, he's a feisty competitor so I knew I had plenty still to do to keep him at distance. I could see the cars parked on the road so I knew there couldn't be that long to go and put everything in to the descent here thinking there would be a short sting in the tail at the bottom and to the finishing field. Not quite. A hurtful little road hill before a bobbly, cobbly gradually climbing traverse through high bracken was a real tester for legs and lungs now dying for the finish line. Eventually the stile in to the uphill finishing field came and I had kept my place and was, for the first time this Summer, very satisfied with how I had run. It felt like a turning point and my carrot, Mr Coates, was only seventy one seconds the better over seven miles which was a positive statistic in itself.
This was my first showing at the Widdop race, in fact I don't recall having been specifically up this way before, situated along the isolated narrow road from Brierfield to Heptonstall. Beautifully bleak moorland where Lancashire meets Yorkshire most indiscreetly.
A couple of days on, I bump in to Ribble Valley Harriers founder Chris Barnes who commended me on my performance and said if I carry on in the same vain, one day I might be good enough to wear the black vest of RVH. High praise, if somewhat tongue-in-cheek.

Wednesday 19th July 2017
WIDDOP   7m/1200ft   Widdop, Calderdale, West Yorks.
1st Man - Sam Watson (Wharfedale) 52:13
1st Lady - Jo Buckley (Calder Valley) 1.05:31
My Stats - 58:22 9/146