Its winter time and enthusiasm is at a bit of a low ebb, so the decision was made to go mojo hunting with a trip out to the Gritstone Trail. The preparation was a bit haphazard and consisted of picking the location, looking at a weather forecast; which was a bad idea, followed by a quick phone call at 9.30pm the night before to sort out a leaving time.
James has been struggling with niggling injuries that have called a halt to any meaningful running recently. For me, it’s the continual battle against bits of me steadily falling apart, plus the past few weeks have been somewhat ‘turbulent’ to say the least and so something had to be done.
7.20am and two intrepid Spartans head off to Macclesfield station to catch the 8.18 train to Kidsgrove, the starting point for the Gritstone Trail. The plan is to run the trail up as far as Tegg’s Nose and then head back down into Macc, which works out at around 25 miles.
The traffic just isn’t playing ball and as we crawl towards the station, it is already pretty clear that we aren’t going to make the train and that means a one hour wait. Damn it.
We get to the station with less than 5 minutes to spare and all that time is wasted as we wrestle with the pay and display machine. We leg it into the station at 20 past, hoping for the rail gods of punctuality to cut us some slack. YES! The train is late and we jump onboard, feeling like lottery winners. This is surely a good omen and the day ahead is destined to be great.
8.45 am and as we set off down the canal, it brings back the memory of the last time I was here for the excellent Gritstone Grind race in September, when me and Andy Whitt set off like idiots with the lead runners at 7 min mile pace with 35 tough miles in front of us. That day turned out to be fantastic, so the spirits are high.
The first few miles are punctuated by James making frequent stops to stretch out his complaining limbs. I join him as I tweaked a hamstring on a run the day before and have fashioned a thigh compression sleeve out of a cut down stocking designed to prevent below the knee surgical DVT’s. It will work or it won’t work I guess. James also casually mentions that he is on super strength antibiotics for a persistent chest and sinusitis problem. Good job it’s only forecasting gale force winds and driving rain today eh?! And so, the two willing cripples head up to Mow Cop, the first climb of the day.
There is something unique about running a linear route that somehow makes it feel more of a journey and an extra bit more satisfying and our positive spirits are kept fully charged by the views across the Cheshire plain as we head along the tops.
The biggest difference in the trail from September to December is of course the ground conditions. Traversing the fields, we frequently sink shin deep in the quagmires of mud and cow pats, making progress heavy going.
James’ legs appear to have woken up now and we run the easier sections along the disused railway at a good pace, chatting away about ideas for the next adventure as we eat up the miles.
10 miles in and up onto Bosley Cloud we go. I push on and run to the top, with the wind speed steadily increasing as the day progresses. Luckily it is mostly heading across or following us and I pause at the top for James and take some photos.
One of the great things about running this trail is that you get to regularly check your progress and from each peak you can see your next challenge in the distance. For us, the transmitter on Croker Hill beckons, although the cloud cover is low, much of the tower is kept visible by the strong breeze. Should be windy up there later!
Every route has sections that you just have to endure. Apart from multiple energy sapping cow fields, running along the Dane Valley the trail has become messy slurry and with every forward step there seems to be an extra one sideways or backwards. Heads down and splash through it is the only option.
Before too long the transmitter tower greets us with howling winds as we climb to the top. It’s just too windy to hang about looking at the views so we press onwards. About 3 and a half hours of running behind us, its roughly the half way point for the whole Trail route, but we only have another 8 miles to go today. The expected torrential rain has still not reached us, but looking behind us we can see the weather front chasing at our heels. Press on!!
Tegg’s Nose is our next and final climb of the day. The wind speed has really picked up another notch now and combined with tired legs, I struggle to see much difference between my walk and run pace to the top.
After regrouping for the last time, we set course for the drop back into Macc. It’s really quite tempting to just carry on with the last 10 miles to Disley, but I have to be back home for 3pm, so we fly down the lanes back into the town, buzzing along at a rapid pace, even after more than 4 and a half hours. We get a few funny looks from Christmas shoppers as we blast into the station carpark. It could be the coating of mud that we have up to our knees I suppose.
High 5’s and our job here is done. I know I need to work on my hill training before the Anglesey Coastal Ultra next month.
Thanks James for a great day out. Mojo found, alive and well thank you. Aches and pains managed and overcome. Merry Christmas!