You can't fault the Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series races for lack of ambition, organisation or landscape. The lovely Mrs S and I have done the Dorset event twice, and this was our first outing to the Devon race, on the south east corner of the South Hams peninsular.
It was a chilly, breezy morning after a few exciting days of winter weather, when the news had been full of 'hey, it's snowing!' excitement. On Thursday evening Devon and Cornwall were looking inaccessible, but the fun and games had shifted to the south east by Friday night and we had a very easy journey. We parked up in Slapton Sands where it was close to freezing but with no snow in sight. A wonderfully juddery old school bus took us on barely-wide-enough lanes to Beesands, the race HQ.
 |
| On the bus |
We went through the registration process and wandered off to have a look at the sea. I didn't fancy a dip, to be quite honest.
 |
| Bright and bracing |
It was all very good-natured and matey in the starting area. We had a cheery race briefing, I stripped off a few layers and we were off, up a grassy hill.
 |
| The start and finish field |
Avoidable error #1... I had packed trail shoes and not fell shoes. They both look similar from above, they're both designed for off-road conditions, but I was cursing myself almost from the off as I slid, slithered and wobbled my way along saturated paths. On the first downhill I found myself losing control. I spent ten or more seconds slipping in one direction and then another, my weight tilting forwards and then backwards. It was only a matter of time before my legs went down in front of me and I skated several metres down the hill. I heard someone behind me doing the same and cheered up a bit.
 |
| Does it get any better than this? |
Soon after this I was onto slightly drier tracks, where I was caught up by two ladies (Hannah and Isobel). We stayed roughly together for several km, as the path became more and more challenging. Technical? It was endless pelting over full-on coastal rocks, with spikes and boulders at every angle. You had to use your hands several times, and the eye-brain-feet coordination effort was exhausting.
 |
| No rocks, no mud here... just a wee hill |
At about 10km we reached the first checkpoint. Hannah and Isobel both stopped at the drinks station and I piled on, up the second of the four big hills, up a steep road. I got into a rhythm and felt good as I started catching the back of the marathon field. Through East Prawle, down into a valley and back uphill, where I steadily caught up with Tom, who had passed me way back ahead of the rocks.
Avoidable error #2... taking the wrong path. There were straight and right turn options. There was a sign but it was a bit ambivalent. Tom waved right, saying 'I'm sure it's this way'. Funny how 'I'm sure' subtracts rather than adds confidence. There were plenty of footprints so I went with it, but after about 300m downhill and no red and white tape in sight it was clear we'd gone wrong. With a sigh I turned around and pushed back uphill, losing at least two-and-a-half minutes.
Some great views of a snow-wreathed Dartmoor, down a steep grassy hill (enough rough patches here to keep an even keel), and uphill again to meet the 10k runners. Into the final mile, with the sea ahead, I overtook Tom and began the descent into Beesands.
 |
| The view of white-topped Dartmoor |
One final twist in this race; I slipped and under my own momentum I found myself on the wrong side of a bush. Thinking I had regained the path, I carried on downhill to find myself in front of barbed wire. Fortunately there was a marshal who pointed towards the gate, which I reached by scrambling up hill. I plunged down to the finish line, terrified of being overtaken, and it was over.
I beat Tom but was beaten by Hannah and Isobel, who had gone past as I was on my detour to finish first and second ladies - they'd had a tremendous race. I was
12th overall, in 1:54:55 - here are my
Garmin stats, and here is the
race between me and Isobel.
It's easy to kick myself for losing time floundering on slippery ground and taking wrong turns, but these were really incidental features of a glorious event when it was wonderful to be alive and pelting around such countryside on such a day.