I'd visualised battling wind and rain, slithering down wet rocky descents and fording knee-deep streams before emerging mud-spattered, bloodied and bruised onto the finishing field for this race. Actually, that was more like August's brief visit to the Coniston area (on the Old County Tops route). In fact, today was balmy, delicious, almost edible in its glorious warmth and sunshine.
Anyway, enough of the purple prose - we got as far as Coniston with no problems at all on the roads then got held up in a major traffic jame trying to park on the field. Blue skies, sparkling water (in the lake, where it should be!) and statue-still trees (no wind) helped reduce the stress factor though! As I did my pretendy warm up, I bumped into the usual suspects: Lindsay, of course, Cath (who reminded me it was all my idea that she should enter this race after having an awful time at Garburn), Matt (hadn't run since Garburn!) and various other cahracters including Paul Chrisp from Tarporley in his "Beano" vest, and Michaela Dempsey and Martin Bates from Wesham. Paul Chrisp is just ahead of me in the series rankings but I don't think I've much chance of catching him, especially now he's turned up for the race!
Paula has Dizzy & Tugger for company, and is taking photographs. We line up optimistically forward under the start banner, someone comes in late, a count-down, then we're off. The first mile is reasonably flat. I'm starting conservatively: at 10K pace - doh! I don't need to bother letting runners pass me when I notice, we're all slowing down.
Martin comes past me through Coniston Village, and I can see that Beano vest not far ahead. We disappear up a side-street, and oh dear, the climb has started, on tarmac. I'm wise to this by now though, and drop the gear right awaym before I even start to feel sick and dizzy. I tuck in behind Martin for a bit. Beano gets no further ahead. The tarmac turns to a stony track: my goodness it feels steep. Drop another cog or three. Satisfyingly, everyone around me is breathing very hard. Before we get to the youth hostel, I leave Martin and go in search of Paul Chrisp's Beano vest. A Clayton-le-Moors lady comes past - I recognise her from Derwent Water. She's a good climber (she should be, she can't weigh more than seven stone!). The higher we climb, the nearer I get to that vest, and nearly catch it at a ford by the pudding stone.
Everything is technicolour: gold, red, orange and brown - it's a visual masterpiece at this time of year, when the sun's out. None of this helps with the next bit, 200m of very steep bouldery stuff. Luckily everyone else is walking so I have no choice but to file behind. This is the top of the climb though, and soon we're speeding up and descending, still through boulders, then on a hard, dry trail, getting faster all the time. The Beano certainly is - he disappears out of sight. I'm saving some for the next small climb - only 200', but we're not even half-way yet. Coniston Water shimmers blue in the valley beneath us.
The climb is a series of small rises along the Walna Scar Road - I'm finding the going hard along here, and settle for biding more time until the descent starts in earnest - the runners in front of me are too far ahead to tag. Suddenly, we veer off down a grassy avenue, and it gets fast. Even faster as we hit a track filled with loose boulders - I pull in the guy in front of me, then the next, then the Stockport runner. Great stuff, I love loose descents.
Sadly, it doesn't stay loose for long, and then there are some small rises, a trot through a grassy meadow, then a slippery dip through a wood. Downhill on a good surface isn't as good for me as on a poor surface, and the Stockport guy comes past again. Then, we're through Torver, over the road, and down to the Lake. I've been missing the distance markers and I'm unsure how far is left, possibly a mile? I'm tiring now though, and I don't want to spoil the run by finishing exhausted, so I keep up a steady trot along the lakeside, over the last wall, and back to the showground. Round the back of the climbing wall I hear the tannoy announcing the arrival of The Beano. A good lady runner comes past, but no-one else, and I get my finish to myself. It's been a lovely, enjoyable, strong run - I've finished in the top 100 only once so far in the series (at Garburn), but today I'm in the top 50.
At the finish, I talk to the Stockport guy. Yes, he knows John Parrott! The lady runner says that she tagged me all the way around the course. I'm flattered - I'm worth tagging then am I?
I find Paula and we see all of our friends finish - first Lindsay, having a good run again, then Cath, and finally Matt, who is the only one of us not to beat a 69 year-old, but still very fit and dapper Dr Ron Hill.
After the race, I retrieve the camping chairs, and we all spend a lovely afternoon in the sunshine, listening to the band, watching the childrens' races, and the presentations. With a beer or three. Perfect! 
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