Bagging another Island
John Rooney tells us about his Island adventure on Lundy.
It’s a (probably unachievable) ambition of mine to visit every island in the British Isles. So when, around this time last year, I saw that some Allrunners had taken part in the Lundy trail half marathon, my interest was suitably piqued. For a man who has only recently conceded that £2 rather £1 per mile for a race is an acceptable price (but balks at going over this – yes, I’m looking at you, Mr Big City 10k race!), even the £170 entry fee wasn’t enough to put me off bagging another rock in the sea.
Four weeks ahead of the race, with training progressing well, Mother Nature conspired to throw me a curveball in the shape of a tick bite and a three-week course of antibiotics to treat Lyme’s Disease, which finished just in time for us (me, Mrs R, second pancake and the dog) to head off to Ilfracombe for the weekend.
The plan for the Saturday was for Mrs R and 2nd P to get the ferry over to Lundy, and for me to walk round Ilfracombe with the dog (Lundy being a dog-free island). But Mother Nature intervened once more, by deciding to churn up the Bristol Channel, forcing the ferry company to cancel. As it was, Ilfracombe was hosting a Morris Dancing and folk festival that weekend, so the day wasn’t a complete washout.
Fortunately, the weather had settled the following day, and the race was able to go ahead, though it was a long way from being a millpond, and the two-hour ferry trip left some runners looking a bit peaky (chatting to the winner afterwards, he’d ‘lost a bit of weight’ on the journey, though given he was 12 minutes ahead of 2nd place, it clearly didn’t hinder him too much). But for those who could stomach looking out to sea, we were treated to a pair of dolphins following the boat into the harbour, as “ooohs” echoed round the decks.
From the ferry, it was a chunky walk up to the top of the island, and what passes for Lundy’s town centre (a pub, a shop, a church and a barn), and the start of the race, with runners searching for shelter from the wind to attach numbers to vests. And then, at 12:15, 3 and a half hours, after joining the queue for the ferry, we were finally off.
Given my lack of training, and wanting to make the most of being on the island, I’d already decided that I would stop and take photos of anything that caught my eye. If I ended up having to walk a load of it, the 4-hour cut-off was at least doable as a fast hike. The race starts at the southern end of the island and heads north along the central track for the first 3 miles or so, and so I thought I might as well push a bit harder on this bit, which was less interesting, to get away from the pack, before we hit the coastal paths. I might have overdone it a tad however, finding myself in fifth position at the first checkpoint, as we headed south along the eastern coast.
Being the side that is sheltered from the Atlantic winds, this was a narrow and rocky trail through the ferns, with a fair bit of undulation, and steep slopes down to the coves below. I’m instinctively cautious on paths like this, and was happy to give way to the quicker and more confident off-road runners, which also allowed me to grab pretty pictures of some spectacular coastline, and every trudge up a hill was rewarded with a new view.
After a couple of miles of coast, we hit our next marshal point, where we were jovially informed that, “it’s steps all the way up the flagpole!” but this did afford a fantastic panoramic view of the island, before the inevitable descent towards the southern tip of the island, and another climb up to the second checkpoint.
The third part of the race followed the western coast, which was a very different kettle of fish – a cliff-top run along a barren landscape, with those dramatic views that tempt you towards the edge, before the height of the potential fall drags you back to firmer ground. My lack of training, and the after effects of the Lyme’s were definitely starting to hit me by now, but the stops to take photographs did at least give me the opportunity to recover a bit of energy.
At the start of the race, they had mentioned a wristband that you had to collect from the lighthouse checkpoint at 10 miles. What they had NOT mentioned was that this lighthouse was at the bottom of an endless set of steps. Clearly the two hours at sea had rubbed off on us all, as a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush sprung forth from each runner as the descent came into view.
The marshal was evidently prepared for a potential stream of invective, and so had hit upon the ingenious tactic of distracting us from our pain by pointing out our reward for not cheating – puffins! Hundreds of ’em! Suitably recharged by Mother Nature (all is forgiven), it was back up the steps, with a tailwind to push us back home along the central track that we’d headed out on, one last loop of the southern point, and (obviously) an uphill slog to the finish line, to tip us over 2,400ft of ascent.
Given everything that had gone on, I was pretty happy with my 27th place (2:21), but even if I’d been fit, I don’t think I’d have run it any differently. It doesn’t feel like that sort of race, and you’d end up missing out on so much if you paid more attention to the race than the scenery.
That said, that I’d not had to resort to walking it did mean that I had time to sit and relax before the ferry back. After the novelty of getting changed in a church post-race, it was off to the pub, for a couple of pints, a pork and stuffing roll, and a chance to sit in the garden and take in the views, before the walk back down to the docks and the 6pm ferry home.
Thank you Lundy – it was an absolute pleasure.
Tempted? You can find out more https://outeredge-events.com/lundy/