Macclesfield Harriers Fell Handicap Race 2023

The Fell Handicap Race appeared to be something of a highlight in the club race calendar. The format is that some poor sod has to take everyone's own predictions, then look back through everyone's race times throughout the year and try to make a fair assessment of how to stagger 60+ runners of enormously varying abilities in order that everyone finishes a nearly-15-mile fell route in around about the same time.

I don't envy Tom for taking on this role; I'm sure he got a lot of (playfully) abusive messages when the start times were published but the decision is final, and that's that.

I wasn't sand-bagging when I estimated my time at 2:40-2:45, that felt reasonable given current fitness. Having sustained a bad injury in October which then led into a horrid chesty cough in the last couple of weeks, I wasn't sure I'd even be able to run it at all, so I was delighted just to be on the start line giving it a go.. despite the 2:30 I'd been given (I didn't send an abusive message by the way, just one of quiet discontent to several other people).

Our 09:30am starting crew of four set out with Leigh ditching us immediately, and the remaining three chatting - intermittently (chatting pace on a continual uphill is always a challenge) - on the climb up to the first top: Shutlingsloe.

Now, I promise this is a race report, but I'm going to digress. This particular climb through Macclesfield Forest via Nessit Hill was the first running route I explored when I moved here in January. I vividly remember taking the dog on a wide berth around some horses and desperately trying to keep running so they wouldn't catch us again. I couldn't. It's really rather a long climb.

I thought about that a lot as I ran up, how 11 months in Macclesfield has made me into a proper fell runner and how having local hills like this has done absolute wonders for my running.

Heading out of the forest up to the trig. Photo credit: Billy Hicks

Anyhow, the three of us hit the gate onto the open moor together and then it was every runner for themselves. I tried to keep trotting up the flagstones at a steady pace and managed to get to the trig point just ahead of my fellow runners. That didn't last, as Andy then flew down the descent like a demon possessed as I trundled down cautiously, my head very aware of my recent injury.

Ticking away up towards Shutlingsloe. Photo credit: Billy Hicks

I knew that was the toughest descent done though and next up was a glorious, flattish bit of very runnable trail, which led into a long, wet (read: actual river) and rocky climb up through Cumberland Clough, culminating at the top of the Cat & Fiddle. I could see Andy ahead, he'd put several hundred metres into me but I hoped I could make up a bit of ground on this climb.

At this point, I decided Andy was my nemesis. It's good to have a race nemesis, keeps you motivated. I didn't know if he felt the same but I hoped secretly I was his new nemesis too and that we could have a good, but polite, battle.

I was making up a bit of ground and then experienced my first overtaker, James.

Now, in a handicap race, every time one person overtakes you, it's technically a bad thing isn't it? But in this case I found myself really excited. I knew James had been on a comeback following an injury too and I felt chuffed for him that he was having a decent run.

Finally we reached the top of the climb, I'd nearly caught Andy by the time we reached the Cat & Fiddle and whilst I fully appreciated the fun sentiment, I didn't hang around for a selfie with Rob the Elf at the top, marginal gains and all that.

Next up was the sweetie tree. I'd been dreading it as it's a totally off-piste section where you cross some tussocky bog to go find a tree with a bag of sweets at it's base, and then - as everyone had told me - have some horrendously leg-sapping climb back to the main track.

I was really grateful to have just caught Gabby, Laura and Baz and that I wasn't too far behind Andy and James, because I could have gotten very lost here. You can skip the sweetie tree visit and stay on the main track but that decision comes with a 20 minute time penalty. So, as long as you don't screw it up entirely, it's worth going.. plus, you get chocolate.

Rob had also just caught up and everyone was picking their way across the tussocks. Baz went down right in front of me, "found a hole!", to the amusement of everyone, especially himself. I didn't help of course, I just heard him cracking up behind me as I continued pushing forward.

Bagged myself a green triangle from the sweetie tree which I felt pretty smug about. Might have taken a moment too long assessing the choices and, retrospectively, could've used that time for an elf-selfie but we have to live with our decisions. The climb back up wasn't as bad as I expected and then I knew we had a brilliant long descent coming up.

Craig overtook me next, and Alan came past at rocket speed too. Every time someone overtook me, I couldn't resist the urge to whoop and cheer because it's just really bloody cool to see people pushing themselves, I found it very aspirational. I also found this to be the case when I overtook people too.

It seemed that everyone was genuinely happy for everyone else, and I think part of that is that we're all facing this adversity together, and part of it is that Macclesfield Harriers is a very community-minded club filled with really nice people.

I know I'm not alone when I say the climb out of Lamaload broke me. It was 11 miles in, the fatigue was setting in and it was a steep bugger of a climb into a very damp headwind. Green triangle to the rescue. I was hiking at this point but my breathing was still so laboured and I had to focus hard on not choking on the chocolate. I was also about to catch my nemesis and didn't want to visually display signs of weakness.

Once that climb was finally done, the next stretch was a relief. This is the point of the race, with around 5km to go, where the crowds thicken and that really helped me to stay motivated and keep pushing. A huge cheer awaited me as I passed Carol (and Paula, I think?), it was such an enormous boost and totally turbo-charged me as I approached the short road section before Teggs Nose.

Andy caught me back up, and we ran together for a stretch. I had a moment where I was unsure of the route but there was one cheeky climb to go and I thought now was my moment to drop him. I think the green triangle must have kicked in and Carol's cheers were still with me as I dug deep and tried to get away from him.

There's then one last descent, it's one I know well, but it's technical-ish and I knew I had to try to send it to stop Andy from catching me. The big whoops from Kate and Kathleen massively spurred me on and as soon as I hit the bottom I sprinted as hard as I could to the finish line. Did it make my tired lungs feel like they were bleeding? Yes. Was it worth it? Entirely.

This was a great first experience of the fell handicap, I throughly enjoyed it, even when I felt like I was about to fall apart at Lamaload. Amazing what a green triangle, a friendly nemesis and some hearty support can do.

Sometimes our minds hold our bodies back, or play tricks on us so we doubt our own ability. Today was one of those days where the body came through and proved the mind wrong, and that - along with such wonderful camaraderie from my fellow Harriers, many of whom I now call my friends - felt pretty great.