My running mileage so far this year has been less than half of a typical year leading into this fabulous event. Add to that a lack of big races which I use to run in June, August, September & early October (typically 6/7 races of between 13 & 54 miles), I knew that any chance of recording a sub 3:40 time (as I’d done in my first 6 Snowdon Marathon’s) was totally un-realistic. So my goal was simply to try & beat my last two times for the race, namely 2022’s 4:17 (with a fractured ankle) & 2023’s 4:14:50.
In the final 2 weeks lead-in I had belatedly got stuck into last minute training panic by slotting in 6 runs, five of which were actually of some quality.
My usual pre-race lead-in consisted of Pasta Carbonaro at 7:00 am on the Friday, then fasting until 8:00 am on Saturday (race day) when Dorina served me with two slices of toast, two poached eggs & a large helping of beans at the Cafe. By 8:30 I was heading to the event for it’s 10:30 start. I went to the lagoon car park which now you have to pay for, there were a few spaces left & then I went to pay. Quite how they expect someone of my age & digital prowess to both register his number plate by phone as well as pay by phone is anyone’s guess. After fumbling & bumbling for 10 minutes or so I gave up & headed for the event car park I’d passed on my way in as I presumed that it would be free. 10 minutes is a longtime on a pre-race morning in Llanberis so by now the roads were chocker & the queue to turn up the road towards the event car park wasn’t moving. Plan C & D were to drive out the way I’d come in & hopefully the few spaces in a couple of lay-bys would still be there & if they weren’t I would drive to John & Marion’s & beg for a lift back in. Thankfully Plan C worked & I was soon on a longer walk than hoped towards the start.
Hanging around at the start on a cold & at times wet morning wasn’t as bad as feared & my ablutions focused lead-in seemed to have worked effectively, always a phycological must for a nervous runner.
I started steadily aiming for splits of roughly 5 minutes per K until the climb began, the roads were running with water but at this stage I didn’t comprehend the damage this would do. Most of the runners had state of the art road shoes whereas I was in my blister proof Mutants which normally serve me well on the final run-in to the finish. Once into the long climb up to PyP my splits edged up towards 6 minutes as expected. The final one came in at 6:15, I was struggling & only just avoided breaking down into a walk. At the top I stopped very briefly to grab a cup of electrolite, unusual for me but I was adapting to my pain. I had reached the pass in over 41 minutes some 3 minutes down on my 2015 pb, so that felt O.K. at least.
I took the descent down to PyG slower than normal but didn’t give a fig how many places I lost, this was race management clarity. At this point a wicked shower of hail & fiercely cold & strong wind hit us in the face. It was freezing & whilst being the worse we would suffer it was far from the only such ‘fun’ we would have to ‘enjoy’! As we turned off road for the long descent towards Nant Gwynant I realised I had three new issues at a worryingly early stage, my right hamstring felt tight, both quads felt like they might go into cramp & the underside of my right foot was getting pretty sore (the early wet roads set this one off). These issues & fears would be with me for much of the run towards Beddgelert (halfway point) but less so thereafter (except the foot). Once on the flat my splits sat at just over 5 minutes per K in line with my pre-race plan, I was finally picking up some confidence which would be much needed for the second half of the race. I reached Beddgelert in a time 2:02 (nb. this split doesn’t feel right as it would mean I almost eran a negative 2nd half split) some 20 minutes down on my pb pace, had I analysed that at the time I might have panicked but thankfully I didn’t & so then set into the crux climb at a reduced but controlled pace. This climb up to Rhyd Ddu is the killer, what it lacks in height gain it compensates for by being seemingly endless with false dawns being betrayed by corner after ‘it’s still going on’ corner. I haven’t run it all in both of my last two races but had done so in my first six. This is the crux, break into a walk here any confidence remaining would shatter making it a very painful journey to the finish.
Thankfully my slow but dignified pace from PyP to Beddgelert began to serve its reward, I managed to run the whole hill, I was running a decent Snowdon marathon for the first time since 2019.
From Rhyd Ddu you descend gently before the route becomes very mildly undulating where I have to admit I’d had to walk one or two of these very minor climbs in my previous two races. Today was different, despite the frequent & very cold showers, I was running well & had devised a very positive phycological state. Exiting Rhyd Ddu I’d calculated that whilst I was only 26K into the 42K race I redid the maths. I only had 9K or so to go to get to Wuanfawr where the final of the 3 big hills starts, this would be my race ‘end’ after that I could walk/run to the actual finish. This ‘shortening’ of the pain threshold worked wonders, I ran all the way to Waunfawr averaging splits of around 5:15 per K.
At Waunfawr I immediately broke into the planned walk & from there on probably only ran 20% of the climb to the Bwlch, where Hillary greeted me at the final feed station as enthusiastically as ever.
From here a steady run before I walked the final short rocky climb before ‘my’ time came. On the wet & muddy descent my mutant trail shoes kicked in & I began my overtaking spree whilst others in their road shoes took sensible precautions which didn’t always avoid a fall. Soon we were back onto tarmac albeit with a central line of grass which I kept to. My apologies here to a fellow Eryri club runner who was talking to another runner, one on the tarmac left & one on the tarmac right. As I called out ‘I’m coming through (on the grassy central line) he seemed to become disorientated by this madman & duly fell over nearly taking me with him. My failure to stop could only be justified by 3 things, it was hard to, I heard him respond to his concerned ‘partner’ I’m O.K. & 3 female spectators were only yards away & were clearly going to help if needed. In truth I was in a very focused mood at this point. By the time I reached the finish I’d overtaken 30 on the descent whilst being picked off by just one, not quite as good as two years ago but this time it was much wetter so even with Mutants I’d had to reign back a bit.
As ever there was a great crowd waiting at the finish & I crossed the line in 4:04:28 to hear Matt Ward’s commentary ‘Paul Andrew has just finished’ & to then soon correct to his more normal greeting of ‘& here’s Paul from Caffi Siabod, their scones……..’ or words to that effect. This can be explained by the fact that for some reason (probably a late entry form I’d manually completed) my race number included both my first & second name, very odd & not good at these ‘Prince’ ending times.
I’d placed 544th out of 2281 starters (just top 25%) & 25th out of 149 in my age category (top 20%). Before the race I’d told Marion, under 4 hours I’ve had a good one, over 4:15 you have permission to shoot me. I live to run my 10th, next year I’ll be 60 & I’m going sub 4 hours! What a difference a day makes, nearing the top of that first climb my mind was saying don’t walk but why would you ever do a 10th one of these. Of course the early negativity is also fueled by knowing the full ‘wonderful’ route ahead too well.
After a quick cup of coffee & two slices of an orange I put my formerly ‘waterproof’ jacket on (had been carrying it in my bum-bag) & began to make my slow & very cold walk back to my car. At the car I took of my wet tops & put on a quilted down jacket, turned the heaters up to full & phoned it into Dorina.
Back at the cafe I stood next to the friar whilst Dorina retrieved my big down belay jacket from the car, this together with a cup of coffee & warmish shower began the recovery but not before I’d taken a couple of photo’s of my very distressed looking right foot, not pretty. That evening we attended an evening event in Capel to raise funds for OVMRO. We arrived home at midnight where the bottle of vino was soon opened.
My apologies to John Rowell who’d come out to cheer me at the finish & gave me a tap on the shoulder which I was totally oblivious to, he would later comment that I was in a ‘different’ world.
Also a massive thanks to Jayne Lloyd & her large team of marshalls, feed stations etc. etc & of course to all the locals & other supporters who turned out to cheer us on.
Finally, that weather, it wasn’t the wettest or the windiest I’ve endured during my 9 Snowdon’s (Eryri now of course) but it was certainly the coldest. I was wearing a long-sleeved vest under my Eryri singlet, gloves, cap & a buff around my neck which I moved to my wrist early on. Anyone just wearing a singlet & those slower runners who would have been walking in those showers & yet still managed to complete it has both me thinking why (only a singlet) & respect!
Sorry to prattle on as ever but if you’ve enjoyed it why not catch the highlights on S4C iplayer.
