Fell running is, I believe the sport of running up a hill or “fell” as they are known in some parts of the world and then running down it again. Yesterday at the Luss Highland Games the assembled slightly damp crowd were treated to a new definition of the event as I most certainly put the "fall" into Fell riunning. As the result of a slight misunderstanding I set off with the four “local” runners up the nearest hill to experience a new event that has no marshals, no signs and no indication whatsoever as to which way you are supposed to go...there is a marker up the hill, you go touch it and then you come down. Simple. Hmmmm, strike one as I got lost coming through the farmyard at the bottom of the hill and ended up wandering along the side of the main road. Retraced steps eventually and returned to the correct path and finished to huge cheers and lots of jocularity. Strike two:- determined though I was not to take part in the “open” race in the afternoon, the one I should had done in the first place I was persuaded by Toby and a feeling of “hey ,what the hell...at least I will beat the guy in the clown suit!”. This race went all the way to the top which I managed okay but oh boy the down was something else. I was quite scared at times and managed to find a unique way down the hill negotiating rivers, barbed wire fences and the largest patches of bracken I have ever seen!! Bless the bracken tho as it managed to stop me from falling down small ravines several times as I clung on to it. Finally I got to the farm yard and managed to fight my way out the correct way to find some worried relatives and some cheering crowds, having to run round the track at the finish was a curious mixture of humiliation and pride. I looked as if I had had tough time anyway sporting bracken in my hair and bloody scratches on my legs, a shame the nettle rash that covered both thighs did not show up. As I came over the finish line “the doughty Mrs Corner...” Toby passed me on his last lap of the mile run which he came third in, he had had made a fourth in the fell run....and no, I did not beat the Clown......
The “Then” blog. For details see entry for March 7th 2009. In brief the restoration of Claonairigh House.
Sunday 26th July 1992
(Linda and Garret)
Showery but warm showers midges ok
Started the day tick removing (Darby’s Tail), bleeding quite a lot. Windows again , guest room windows. Fitted letter box. Mum cleared some more weeds from round the house.
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