Pancake tossing at the track anyone ?

The Rhayader Round the Lakes Race
 

Report – Susan Hunt.
 

This race has been on my radar for a few years –  it is claimed to be “one of the most scenic courses in the British Isles” and previously a 20 mile loop of the spectacular Elan Valley,. It’s now a mere 30k.

What had previously put me off entering wasn’t having to drive to Wales or the warning that the route is “challenging and exposed to the weather”; but that it’s on a Saturday (parkrun day).  

This year, I had another look and realised that its start time of 11:30am meant that I could squeeze in a parkrun first. 

So early last Saturday I headed to a frosty Builth Wells for the gorgeous Groe parkrun – a controlled (and happily pancake-flat) run alongside the River Wye.

There was post-run celebratory cake for St David’s Day, which served as a second breakfast before I headed 20 minutes up the road to Rhayader.

In the hall at Race HQ, I quickly got the impression that the race has something of a “cult” following.  Lots of runners return to do it year after year and many of them seemed to know each other.  Just as I was starting to feel like Billy-no-mates, I bumped into a Hooky Harrier friend, Royston.  He asked to run with me, explaining that his knee was “b*ggered” so he wouldn’t be able to run as fast as normal (cheeky!)

I agreed and we headed off in uncommon Welsh sunshine. 

For the first four miles, we slogged up a mountain (around 1300ft of climb).  My regular tow path trundles and occasional Welcombe Hill reps had been inadequate prep for this and Royston did all the talking (whilst scampering backwards and forwards like a young puppy).

At last, we reached the top of the world – where the road mercifully flattened and fell through miles of rolling moorland, twinkling lakes, and wound alongside forests and the spectacular Elan Dams.  Red kites circled above (thinking I was roadkill?).  It was so gob-smackingly spectacular that I almost forgot about my jelly legs (that never really recovered from the initial mountain climb and from hammering down the steep downhill that followed it).

In the race’s 40 year history, I doubt whether conditions have ever been as perfect – cool, calm and a cloudless blue sky.  

But the last 2 miles really started to bite, and I fought nausea along with protesting legs on the final, cruel, long hill back into Rhayader.

Royston’s knee protested even louder and he dropped back,
encouraging me to continue without him.  Given that he had spent the previous 18 miles waiting for and encouraging me, I’d like to say that I insisted on staying with him but instead, I shuffled on, grinding out every step – with that familiar end of race feeling that someone very big had sat down on my lap.

Oh the relief of making the final turn and seeing the finish line!

Thankfully (for my conscience), Royston wasn’t far behind.

This is indeed a spectacular and fabulous race.  I’d definitely recommend it but if you’re going for the win, perhaps skip the pre-race parkrun?