Snow-done

A few weeks ago, I saw a post from someone who was unable to run the Snowdonia Eryri Marathon this year. They were offering to transfer their place to another runner. As I had nothing planned that weekend I said I would take it. To my surprise I was the first to respond. The race coincided with half term, and as my daughter was away for the week, I decided to enjoy a few days in North Wales culminating in the marathon.

I heard about the race years ago. Many of the runners I knew in Northampton would travel to take part, and I would listen to their stories of steep hills and slippery, muddy descents. They would return full of praise for the event, and proudly show off the slate coaster that all finishers received. 

It took me the whole of Wednesday to travel from London via Crewe, Chester, and Bangor to Llanberis. This left me two days before the marathon on the Saturday. I was staying in a YHA hostel at Pen-y-Pass. This had excellent access to the surrounding mountain trails as well as a drying room and comfortable dorms.

On the Thursday I had an early breakfast and headed up to the top of Snowdon, (1085m) the highest mountain in England and Wales. I'd never been to the summit before, let alone run to it. The weather was wet and windy, but still humid. It took me one hour and thirteen minutes to reach the trig point along the Pyg trail, and I was rewarded with a complete white out and no view whatsoever. That said, there were some nice views on the way up and back down the Llanberis path. I was impressed seeing six year olds climbing up there - not alone I might add.

Once back in Llanberis I saw a sign for a waterfall and discovered Ceunant Mawr. It was a dramatic torrent of water cascading into a beautiful plunge pool at the foot of a narrow wooded gorge. 

I continued my run to Dolbadarn Castle past the 20 foot high sword sculpture on the edge of Lake Padarn.

Finally I headed to Coed Doctor. This beautiful woodland is just off the ring road, but felt like another world full of fungi and lychen. I spotted numerous species of mushroom from Honey Fugus and Giant Funnel to Chanterelle, Ink Cap and Puff Ball. Birds proliferated including Nuthatches, Chaffinches, Dunnocks, Goldcrests, and I even heard the sound of an owl echoing through the russet tree canopy. 

Thirteen miles was enough for one day. I headed back to the hostel on the Sherpa bus for dinner and an early night.

On the Friday I decided to tackle the Glyders. These two mountain tops were on the other side of the hostel from Snowdon. Glyder Fach (1001m) and Glyder Fawr (994m) are famous for their jagged rock formations. 

I left the hostel and took a steep path that resembled a waterfall following a heavy night of rain. I arrived at Lake Cwmffynnon and soon lost the trail. Not to be deterred I just headed straight up the side of the mountain through long grasses and heather speckled with mauve and orange flowers. Using my hands to haul myself up, I soon approached the top where I spotted a lady from the hostel.

Ka Lee Gas (spelling?) was from Hong Kong and nervous being out on her own. We climbed together and I was happy to stick with her as she had a marked trail on her phone, whereas I was winging it on Google Maps and had become lost within the first mile!

The steep trail led us up higher, and the grasses and heathers thinned out until we were left to clamber over a landscape of giant boulders. It felt like another planet. Sharp, serrated rocks stood on end like jagged dragon's teeth. The wind howled and the temperature dropped markedly. I pulled on another top, and my gloves, and still my teeth were chattering. 

We topped Glyder Fawr and continued on to Glyder Fach. After a photo on the famous Y Gwyliwr Cantilever Stone it was a relief to descend. I had planned to climb Tryfan, but I was too cold and its sheer slopes, and the need for scrambling were too much of a risk in the conditions. I also had a marathon to run the next day.

Ka Lee and I tentatively made our way down, slipping and sliding, crossing dozens of waterfalls that roared down the mountain side. By the time we reached the road at the bottom I was exhausted. We climbed back up to the hostel relieved to be in one piece.

That evening I moved down to a new hostel in Llanberis, just a stone's throw from the start line. It was described as rustic which, I now know, means basic. No blankets or pillows and very old spring mattresses. An uncomfortable night.

Marathon day

On Saturday morning I picked up my number and t-shirt - a bright sky blue colour with a pink line reflecting the elevation profile. Famously the run is bookended by two steep climbs at mile 2 and 22. Oh, and there's a climb in the middle too. Needless to say it isn't one to claim a PB, but it is a challenge.

Once again the wind was roaring down the Llanberis path and rain was in the air. Thankfully it stopped just before the start at 10:30am. There was a bit of a walk out of Llanberis to the official start line where 1600 of us awaited the countdown. Tri. Dau. Un. Go! We were off.

Rust coloured mountains soared above us to our right, speckled with green ferns and golden oak tree canopies. On our left, Lake Peris, its disturbed surface a slate grey reflecting the leaden sky and scarred hillside above. Piles of slate that had been dug from the hills had left deep scars as though a Welsh Dragon had raked its claws down the mountain spilling the rock from within.

The road wound left and right and then began to climb. Steeper and steeper it rose, a total of 260m elevation over just two miles. Looking behind revealed a multicoloured snake of runners winding up the valley, yellows, reds and oranges like autumn leaves being blown up the valley. The gusts were strong and directly against us, so I took shelter behind other taller and wider runners, slipstreaming them and saving energy.

Eventually we arrived at Pen-Y-Pass and the Youth Hostel I had stayed at previously. A crowd welcomed us with the ringing of cow bells, cheers and small plastic pods of water being handed out by volunteers, many of whom were children.

Over the top, and we had made it up the first big climb of the day. I had been sure to set off at a steady speed and not to push too hard on the uphill. I could now let me legs open up a little on the downhill, yet I still held back knowing there was 21 miles to go. After another mile we turned off the road and onto a rough farm track. I was in my element here and enjoyed a fast mile on the trail overtaking many people.

We arrived at the bottom and Lake Gwynant came into view. A beautiful sight and one worth stopping for to get a photo. The Autumn colours were quite spectacular. The beautiful surroundings were a good distraction and the miles were flying by. I met a guy from Dover Running Club and chatted about people we both knew from my time there. I also met several Northampton Road Runners who had made their annual visit.

Lake Dinas came and went. We arrived in Beddgelert, the half way point. My watch said just under two hours. Not bad, I was aiming to complete in four hours. The route was taking us around the base of Snowdon. We had covered the eastern and southern sides and now headed north. This was the point at which we began to climb again for two miles. It was not as steep as the initial climb but still a good 160m of elevation over a couple of miles.

There were good crowds along this stretch and plenty of water stations to keep us hydrated. I was sweating profusely. It was very humid, so I was drinking at least two pods of water at every station and sticking one in my pack to carry with me. I'd also taken an apple with me, some salt tablets and ibuprofen. Hydration and fuelling wouldn't be a problem.

My legs felt good considering all they had done over the previous two days. I began to hit a good rhythm when we were back on the flat and sped up a little. We passed Beddgelert Forest and two more lakes, Y Gader and Cwellyn. We were now running parallel with the narrow gauge Welsh Highland Railway at Rhydd Ddu.

At this point I passed John. John was staying in the same 'rustic' dorm as me. He was 74 years old and running the Eryri marathon for the tenth time. I couldn't understand how he had managed to get there before me. Turns out he had arrived at the start early and they told him he could go when he wanted. This strange decision meant that I was passing very slow runners late on in the race. John is a bit of a legend having run UTMB six times and completed the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage four times. 

The miles passed quickly and I was soon at mile 21 approaching the village of Waunfawr. This was the gateway to the final climb of the day - 270m over two miles. My legs felt surprisingly fresh so I kept running and only walked for two short periods when the wind came against me. 

It was a relief to reach the top where we were greeted by a pirate themed checkpoint. It was nice to get off the tarmac again and back onto trail. I had been warned about the danger of the descent which is famous for people falling, slipping and sliding on the waterlogged mud with tired legs. Thankfully my experience on the trails held me in good stead and I hammered down overtaking people and managing to dance my way down. My arms were windmilling like Raheem Sterling on one of his dribbling runs. Someone commented that I looked like a mountain goat which encouraged me.

Back onto the road, I hammered down a ridiculously steep slope into Llanberis, turned the corner at speed and sprinted for the line. All out now, nothing to hold back for. I crossed the line with a smile on my face and enthusiastic crowds cheering from both sides. I must admit it felt great even though everyone was getting the same level of enthusiasm and encouragement. 3h 44m was my final time. I finished in 174th place.

A foil blanket was wrapped around my shoulders, a souvenir water bottle placed in one hand, and a slate coaster in the other. I made my way into the scout hut for a hot coffee and some Twiglets to celebrate.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Wales, as I always do. The people are friendly and, despite the weather, the country is stunningly beautiful. The marathon was really well organised, - except for the strange early starts - support from locals was fantastic, and I loved the fact that it was so proudly Welsh. The fact that people return year on year says a lot about how well run and enjoyable the whole experience is. Diolch Cymru!