GOT MYSELF OUT OF A HOLE
GOLF BALL
The Golf Ball fell race is so named after the so-shaped radar construction which is a landmark upon these hills between Burnley and Rawtenstall. Thankfully the race has absolutely nothing to do with golf whatsoever. I'm not dismissing golf as a skill, or even a sport, but the associated stigma of pretentiousness, pomposity, sexism... just the sort of things that could distract me from the subject in hand with one big massive huge rant and so I must quickly return to the ramblings about my running. But I may as well sum up this latest midweek battle on the Rossendale moors by using corny golfing analogies; comparing my fortunes to a strong tee shot down the middle of the fairway, only for a careless chip towards the green left me stranded in a bunker. But resolve was shown with the sand wedge, recovering well to set up a perfectly weighted putt for a birdie fifth - or, translated in to real terms, I got myself off to a handy start, held my ground and then went wandering in the final mile but managed to salvage my place back.
Familiar faces were present at the top end in this last of the Rossendale Midweek Series with Callum Davidson on home turf once again leading the way from quality veteran Shaun Godsman of Calder Valley. As was also the case at Pilgrim's Cross seven days earlier, it was that Rochdale Harrier vest of Danny Bennett directly ahead of myself and once again gaining ground as the race went on. However he didn't get too far out of sight this week, but again his superior descending speed made the difference and particularly in the latter part of the race. I was feeling strong, but deciding not to risk blowing a gasket by making a futile attempt to close down Bennett, instead I buzzed at being in the top five of a race for the first time in ages. After the first ascension of the moorland plateau, all that height was about to be lost and I looked across at the distant Golf Ball knowing we'd be back up there again shortly so I did just take my foot off the gas a little here in the knowledge of having plenty of work to do yet. Down and down we went, off the moor and winding through a disused quarry which was one of the few sections I recall from my other appearance here in 2014. Still nobody breathing down my neck at this point, but as the gradual climb begins again up a rocky path I began to hear the regular cough-come-grunting sound that I recognised instantly as that of Ashley Holt's. As the minutes went by, the noise came closer. I put an extra effort in once I could see there wasn't much of the climb left as I felt fairly confident I could hold my own when the gradient subsided and that seemed to be the case. I think Ashley had got quite close, but I sensed I was pulling away again and particularly along the manmade stoney track along side the Golf Ball. I could see Danny Bennett fairly clearly here, but when the track starts to head back down, he had vanished again. Still holding fifth, at the bottom of the track and in to the next enclosure I took my eye off the taped guiding canes and was instead drawn left and downwards by a sheep trod which led to a maze of tussock patches. Aaagh! I stopped, flapped my arms in frustration and then heard a call from behind when a Radcliffe runner, not many yards behind Rossendale's Holt, shouted and pointed,''This way mate!''. ''Cheers!'' I replied, but inside I was livid. What an idiot. I even remembered the gap in the woods we were heading for from three years ago but I just switched off and it looked like it was going to cost me. It was a messy scramble back up and across to the pair of them but when I managed to get back on track it was enough to nestle in between them both and give myself a chance of making amends. Holding on to Ashley's coattails, I was hoping I might get a bit of recovery after that detour if I could just stick in behind him for a few minutes. The Holt had smelled blood but I kept up with him and had the legs to kick on in the final thirty yards to retain my place. Relief and in some ways, double the satisfaction after that little cock up.
I shouldn't depart from this particular race report ramble without mentioning again that the Rossendale Series throws up some cracking little races of which Golf Ball is certainly one of them. A great atmosphere in Love Clough's proper Northern working man's club after where I enjoyed a pint with the still age-proof Mark Ellithorn and fellow Chorley raceaholic and man of great fettle for his age, Bill Beckett. I just love Summer night fell races, this is what it's all about!

Wednesday 16th August 2017
GOLF BALL   5.5m*/800ft   Love Clough, Rossendale, Lancs.
1st Man - Callum Davidson (Rossendale) 38:21.
1st Lady - Sarah Bell (Barlick) 48:52
My Stats - 43:32*   5/150

*41:27 back in 2014?... The course must surely be longer now! I simply can't imagine how I could have run quicker at all that night three years ago when it felt like a struggle - but by over two minutes as well?! No chance. It certainly felt more like six miles or so with much more running in the first half of the race than I remember. Of course I'm trying to defend with vigour my right to take a feel-good factor from this year's effort, but if I'm wrong then I must accept the harsh truth. However in fairness, times comparatively by others then and now also seem to suggest the course is now slower.