Random running and remote races.

[Bierzo Baggie]

The following is a brief summary of the race. It involved running, but not as we know it. It resembled Lakeland fell running… I guess.

The start was scheduled for 10:30. It was windy and there was a slight chill but the sun threatened to make an appearance and eventually it did. I decided to take the small rucksack with the broken strap which I’ve been using in my Aquilianos jaunts. Enough space for a kagool, gloves, woolly hat and a camera. Noticed that of about 100 starters only one or two others carried rucksacks. I’m also one of the only ones with trackie bottoms. Long live Ron Hill!

A bloke started the race. 3km of gently rising track which I ran easily. Then a narrow stony path which I mostly walked. Then a muddy bog, a lake, a stream (which we ran up) an ocean of rocks, a section of open moor-land and a mountain (Pico Vizcodillo at 2122 metres). The top of the mountain consisted of a pile of rocks which looked as if they’d been left by God Almighty’s dumper truck. It was blowing a gale up there but strangely enough I was reluctant to leave. It felt like being back in England. Took a couple of photos and then started handing out alms as if I was Mother Teresa. One bloke with cold ears got my woolly hat and I lent another fellow my gloves. That earned me a couple of beers in the post-race paella!

The descent. Got a bit cocky and tried to go too fast. Two twisted ankles later and I realized that it was time to curb my euphoria. The priority became to get to the bottom in one piece although for the first time ever I think I passed more people going down than going up. Fell over in the bog and came out looking like some creature from a swamp. Crossed the finish line in reasonably good shape with a time of 2 hours 12 minutes and probably in the bottom third of the field. Washed in the icy waters of the stream (which chilled my swollen ankle) and then joined Pedro the lumberjack and company for the mentioned post race paella. Great stuff!