The beginning of December every year can have a special feel if you are a member or ever have been a member of a few peak district fell clubs as its the time of year that running between Marsden in Yorkshire and Edale in Derbyshire has its real attractions. The race has only made it into the FRA calendar once in recent years, and therefore retains a somewhat ‘locals only’ feel. There are few outsiders from the south Yorkshire – north Derbyshire clans. Being an ex-Glossopdaler, Tanky’s Trog has been a big race in my calendar in previous years, and just because I now live in Cumbria, doesn’t mean it will cease to be a year ending target.

The route takes a fairly direct line between Marsden and Edale, with only 2 official checkpoints in the 22 intervening miles. For anyone who has not been in this neck of the woods before, the bogs of Black Hill and Kinder can be of man eating proportions, although if you stay on line on Black Hill, the route in now flagged with stones underfoot. The peat hags and groughs of Bleaklow and Kinder are black, deep and can be extremely disorientating – running on a compass bearing can prove a real skill in the twists and turns of the groughs.

After crossing the Isle of Skye road, it was obvious to anyone that this was going to be a very wet and boggy race. The flags on the Pennine Way were often nearly a foot below the water level, giving the odd feeling that even fell runners are capable of running on water. The wind was also increasing (although worse was still to come) as we moved out of the relatively sheltered valley, and we soon found ourselves staggering into the full force of it climbing the flanks of Black Hill. The leading bunch had by now thinned out, and it was possible to make out a long line of runners snaking up to the summit trig. Despite the rain and the wind, the clag thankfully stayed above the moors.

Up to this point the route is obvious with no navigation required as main paths are followed. Following the summit of Black Hill, the first ‘off-path’ line is taken. There are slight variations on the theme, but a general southerly line is taken heading straight for Little Crowden Brook and the track that runs out to Crowden itself in the Woodhead Valley. The line I know off Black Hill is something I have recced numerous times before, with friends and on my own, however on reaching the trig point this year with two other runners we set off on the correct bearing and after 5 minutes running found ourselves back on the Pennine Way having swung seriously to the SW. B*gger! Luckily, we all knew instantly what we had done and roughly were we needed to go, but the error cost several minutes. Furthermore, running over the rough tussocks and boggy holes really made my legs suffer. We’re only a third of way I felt myself worry – how am I to keep this up, when the terrain just gets worse! I hunkered down, accepting the pain, and just telling myself that it was something I could endure. The mind games had begun.

Luckily, our error didn’t cost us more than it did, and we were soon on the long tussocky descent to Little Crowden Brook, where if you get the right line a small trod appears leading you down to the stream. In normal conditions, LCB is a shallow wade across. This year many runners where grouping together as threes to cross in relatively safety. It appears that others thought that Tankys was a duathlon, using the stream as their swim leg. It will go down in the history of the race, as an appalling crossing. Luckily I reached the brook with several others and we crossed in style! I have always enjoyed the run down to Crowden and across to the foot of Torside, It’s a time to switch off the navigation brain for a while and concentrate of pace, food and hydration. The route follows an old track to Crowden, across the Woodhead road, and follows paths alongside the Torside reservoir and across the dam. The first real checkpoint is here, after 8 miles.

I have always run Tanky’s ‘unsupported’, i.e. I may have friends at the road crossings but I like to carry all my food and water for the whole race with me. Pete, my boyfriend, was waiting on the reservoir dam, hunkered down in full waterproofs. I only realised now that actually there was blue sky appearing to the west and the rain had died off. Hey! There’s that blind optimism again! This always has the effect of lifting the spirits, and despite knowing Bleaklow well, I was dreading a clagged-in crossing.

The climb up Torside is a stiff little number, following the PW. At the top of the main climb, there are numerous variations on the route. I was running with two guys, who evidently were heading to the west avoiding Wain Stones and Hern Stones, using a Landrover track to get to Dowstone Clough and on to Higher Shelf Stones, and the trods that lead down to Upper North Grain. This route does seem to be quicker but you need to have recced it, as get the line wrong and you can get pretty lost. I decided that I wasn’t sure I could keep up with their pace and thus risked the prospect of losing them and myself! So I stuck to my guns and went the route I knew, heading for the point between Wain Stones and Hern Stones, and off down the PW and to pick up the trods to Upper North Grain. The crossing was clag free and the wind seemed to have died – it was a pleasant feeling being able to run unhindered for a few minutes, but the feeling was only temporary!

As I picked up the descent into Grains the wind got incredibly strong. I was struggling to move forward let alone run, and breathing itself seemed to have become desperate, as the wind ripped all air away from your mouth. Staggering like a drunkard, I managed to reach the Snake Road. Again it’s time to turn off the navigation brain and concentrate on refuelling and speed. It’s a murderous run down the road past the second checkpoint at the Snake Inn and the turn off up Seal Stones on Kinder. The first time I ran Tanky’s I was hallucinating over Bleaklow and when I got to the Snake, thought I couldn’t go on, but I had been told that it really is nearly it, ‘you only need to climb Seal Stones, and survive the 7 minute crossing of Kinder and you’re in the home straight down Grindsbrook and into Edale’. When you look on the map, it seems miles to go, but it is true, if you get to the Snake and survive the run down the road, you really have done it!

I managed a smile and a wave to a friend brandishing a camera and pushed on past the checkpoint and on up the tortuous climb up Seal Stones. By now all blue sky and all that it promised had disappeared into a foreboding blackness to the west. The wind was steadily increasing, and blowing onto my right side, bringing with it sharp hail stones, sleet and driving rain. The climb is hands on knees up tussocky grass and again a variety of lines can be taken. I am not convinced any one is faster that the other up to the edge of the Kinder plateau, but it would have been nice to have been able to stay below the plateau top this time. I crested the top and dropped onto the path that runs around the edge and also into the full brunt of the wind. I have been out many times in appalling weather in the mountains, and the wind had to be up there with one of the worst.

As I staggered (and ask anyone who saw me – I seemed to have lost all coordination!) along to Blackden Brook to pick up the 7-minute crossing, I felt myself leave the ground briefly, before being thrown down onto a large block of gritstone. My legs by this point must have been pretty cold and numb because only after I finished and was getting changed did I realise that I skinned and bruised both my knees in this attempt at human flight. I had to pick myself up and make myself as small as possible to avoid being blown over again. This made actually running very difficult, but I made progress and turned off along the crossing route, thankfully finding the base of a grough that runs parallel to the route, and that offered some protection from the wind. I realised that I had got very cold in the battle with the wind, and managed to get my wet thin gloves partially over my hands and got my hood up, which made me feel so much better.

The 7 minute crossing was a lot longer this year – I don’t know how long it took me to get across, but I was very thankful to see the edge path appear and the floor of Grindsbrook open up in front of me. The final descent! A slippy, muddy, bracken and heather lined path leads down to the main footpath, and the flags into Edale Village. A welcome sight – and Pete was waiting at a gate at the start of the flags, and ran in with me to the finish, all the way through the village to the Jolly Rambler pub. I was very relieved to get into the finishing tent and get out of the wind and rain just for a few moments.

The legs were tired, painful and cold, my knees bruised, my hands frozen, my hair sodden, and I felt truly exhausted, but so elated to have completed in nasty conditions. And you instantly think about doing it all again next year – what ever the weather!