“You have to want it”
I don’t think anyone can dispute my desire to get to the finish line of the King Offa’s Dyke Race. Before I tell you about the finish, let’s go back to the start.
Background
The Offa’s Dyke race takes place every two years. Coincidently the race in 2022 took place on the same weekend as I ran the Peak District Boundary. Once I’d recovered from that, my thoughts turned to ‘what next?’ … I had seen several posts about the Offa’s Dyke and my interest was piqued. Some investigation later, and that was it, the Offa’s Dyke was to be my next big challenge.
When I set out to do something, I go ‘all in’. Basically, the last 2 years of my life (& Marc’s) has revolved around the Offa’s Dyke path. I spent a lot of weekends driving back and forth to Wales to recce the route. About 6 weeks ago, I fast-packed part of it.
If you don’t already know the Offa’s Dyke Path runs along the border between England and Wales. It begins in the south at Sedbury Cliffs and finishes at Prestatyn on the North Wales coast. The route closely follows the Offa’s Dyke earthwork, which was constructed in the late 8th century on the orders of King Offa of Mercia. The distance is ~180 miles with ~9,200m of elevation.
Sedbury Cliffs to Hay-on-Wye
Following the race briefing, we headed to the official start at Sedbury Cliffs. A rock marks the start of the national trail and its twin, lies at the finish line in Prestatyn. We were each given a King Offa coin. The idea being that when we reach the rock in Prestatyn, we exchange our coin for our finisher’s trophy.
The race started at 8pm. After a few miles head torches were donned. The first section was to Monmouth. It closely followed the River Wye, taking in a lot of forest tracks. Then it was onwards to Pandy. This section consisted of more forest tracks and several fields. I ran the majority of this section on my own. As in all races of this distance, you know that despite a mass start, you will ultimately cover the majority of miles solo.
Day broke shortly after Pandy. I was looking forward to the next section on the Black Mountains. On my recce, it was a stunning day, I had views for miles. The ridge also features several trig points and wild horses. Unfortunately, the rain came at this point and the views were pretty non-existent. I reached the highest point on the route, Twyn Llech and from there it was a descent in to Hay-on-Wye – 52 miles.
Marc was waiting for me at Hay-on-Wye. The thought of some dry clothes and a bacon bap made for a quick descent.
Hay-on-Wye to Knighton
Fed & changed, I was ready to get going again. The next section was to Kington. Again, I was looking forward to this section. I absolutely loved running along Hergest Ridge on my recce. It most definitely didn’t disappoint. The weather had changed by this point, the sun was shining and there were lots of walkers along the ridge, cheering everyone along.
Apart from the bacon bap, I’d mainly been surviving on gels to this point. When I got to Kington, Marc was there with a selection of sandwiches. I had a little sit down, took on some food, did some foot care and was eager to get to Knighton. I had initially said I would sleep at Knighton. However, when I arrived there (80 miles in), I wasn’t quite ready for sleep. Also, there was some very loud party/carnival going on outside, that I suspect would have made sleep impossible anyway.
Knighton to Buttington Bridge
Up next was the infamous Clun Hills, the switchback section, reported as the hardest section of the route. It was getting dark at this point. Rather than tackle this section in one go, Marc found a ‘parking spot’ about 7 miles in. I planned to meet him there, have a sleep and then tackle the next half of that section.
Along this part of the route, I picked up some people that had managed to get lost, we pressed on together, until I met Marc. At this point, I had my first and only sleep of the race. Marc had put the back seats of the car down and put a comfy mat and a sleeping bag in there. I literally climbed in and nodded straight off. An hour and a half later, I was up, shoes back on, pack replenished and away. I thought it would be hard to get going at this point but it honestly wasn’t. The next 10 miles flew by, the sun came up again just as I made my way to the 100-mile checkpoint at Montgomery.
There were several people sleeping here but given my recent nap, I didn’t feel the need to get my head down again. A quick freshen up, sock change and toothbrushing here and I set off for Buttington Bridge. A mile from the bridge there is a McDonald’s. I had already placed my order with Marc –a bacon bap!
Buttington Bridge to Froncysyllte
Bacon bap consumed, I headed off on the section I was least looking forward to, the (only) flat section of the route, to Llanymynech. 10 flat miles, only interrupted by cow fields. Normally I am a bit fearful of cows and there were quite a few frisky ones in this section. I was on a mission at this point, my motto was ‘not today cows, not today’ as a I marched through their fields.
I started to feel a niggle in my ITB. This was an injury I had recently taken some time off running with. I say that like it was a choice, it wasn’t. In preparation for this race, I attempted the 24 Hours South on the Offa’s Dyke race in May. Sadly, I had to pull out 42 miles in with ITB/knee pain. I took 5-6 weeks off running, had the injury treated and managed the training after that without any issues. With races of this distance, there is always a risk that any previous issues will rear their head.
It was more of a concern at this point, rather than an issue. The next section after Llanymynech was straight back to hills and onwards to Chirk Castle. I was starting to feel a bit tired at this stage, so I was delighted to see my friend Carol, along with her husband Carl and dog Stanley pop up just outside Trefonen to say hello. Seeing people you know, always lifts your spirits. I was so pleased to see them and so appreciative that they had made the journey.
The next section seemed to go on forever. It didn’t help that there was also a diversion in place, that made an already long run, even longer. My ITB tightness was starting to pull on my knee, my pace was slowing down and it was hurting to go downhill. By the time I reached Marc on the outskirts of Chirk I was feeling pretty deflated. I had absolutely loved this race up to this point (approximately 130 miles in). Thoughts that I might not get to the finish line started to creep in.
I laid the comfy mat on the ground and tried to stretch out my leg. Marc helped along with another runner, Nick (when he first came across me on a mat, on a bridge, in the middle of nowhere, I think he thought he was hallucinating). I am grateful, there was not a photographer around at this point. I would imagine it would have looked to a bystander, like we were trying to re-enact some karma sutra positions.
This helped for a few miles as I made my way to Froncysyllte, but sadly the respite didn’t last long. I tried to get the medics to look at my knee at the Froncysyllte checkpoint but they weren’t available. I lay down to elevate it at this point. I really just wanted to press on, this was the point on my 24 Hours South race, where I had pulled out. I really didn’t want this race to end here.
Froncysyllte to Llandelga
Before the Offa’s Dyke ‘adventure.’ I gave Marc the brief, ‘do not let me stop, no matter what.’ Marc knew I was in pain, but he knew how much finishing the race meant to me. This is where I had to dig deep and where Marc had to remember the brief. I was essentially asking someone who loves me, to see me struggle in pain and let me carry on regardless.
Kudos to Marc he kept his own emotions in check, he pushed me out of that checkpoint, cheered me along ‘Come on Crossley, you didn’t come this far to stop.’ I know all he really wanted to do, was to put me in the car and take me home.
My knee was ok on the uphills and the flats. I enjoyed the next part up through Trevor Woods and along the scree to World’s End. The downhill through Llandelga Forest to the next checkpoint was a different story. It just seemed to be taking forever, the sun was starting to come up but it was cold. My pace was very slow on the descents and I stopped to add a few more layers. At Llandelga checkpoint, another runner’s wife Anne, had some tape and kindly taped my knee for me at this point.
My negative thoughts evaporated, whilst my knee wasn’t ‘fixed’ moving was certainly a lot better after Anne’s magic touch. I had 30 miles to go. It felt like I was on the home straight!
Llandelga to Bodfari
Things took a turn for the worst after Moel Famau. Going up was fine and I felt like a rockstar, with all the bank holiday walkers cheering me on. On the descent from Moel Famau, my left knee, that I’ve never had an issue with, clearly thought the right one had been getting too much attention and decided to join the party! I could literally have cried at this point. I know from Moel Famau to Prestatyn it is basically summit to sea, so all down hill with just a few inclines!
When I (very slowly) reached Coed Llangwyfan car-park, Marc had a go at bandaging my new bad knee. I made it to the last and final checkpoint at Bodfari but by that stage I was exhausted. The icing on the cake was when I discovered that the checkpoint was not along the side of the road, it was over a stile 6ft off the ground and down yet another hill. I will admit at this point, I cried. I phoned Marc, who was parked a bit further away waiting for me to pass and told him ‘I can’t finish this race, I can’t actually get over the stile and down the hill to the checkpoint. You need to come and collect me. I’m done.’ On reflection, that stile probably wasn’t 6ft off the ground and compared to the hills I’d come down this one probably wasn’t that bad. In my defence, I was in pain. I was tired. I am surprised it took this long for the irrational part of me to come out!
Bodfari to Prestatyn
Long story short, I made it to the checkpoint, the medics were there, they elevated my legs and iced my knees for half an hour, before bandaging them again. The last 12 miles were painfully slow – there are approximately 459 stiles in that section. Denbighshire Council, have you never heard of gates? Marc kept my spirits up throughout the race, but especially during this section. He would drive a few miles, park up and come to meet me, literally until we reached the railway bridge at Prestatyn.
I’d spent months wondering what that last stretch was going to feel like, and whether I was going to make it that far. Doing it for real was quite an emotional moment!
75hrs 23mins after I started, I reached the finishers rock in Prestatyn. Offa’s Dyke Race was an adventure, a challenge, a 180-mile roller-coaster ride.
Best bit
The night section, taking in the switchbacks. There’s something special about being out on an adventure at night, when most people are tucked up in bed.
Worst bit
Those steps over up and over the train tracks in Prestatyn.
Conclusion
Racing the Offa’s Dyke was a fantastic way to spend a bank holiday weekend, toing and froing with other runners, immersed in conversations, while progressing from Chepstow to Prestatyn. Running the same race but essentially all on different journeys. The camaraderie out there was second to none. Each and every person wanted to see everyone else achieve their goal. Not only the runners but the support crews – they weren’t just there for ‘their’ runner, they were supportive of everyone else – offering drinks, food and even hugs when required.
I questioned my sanity and considered giving up (on several occasions). Then I remembered that this is what I do for fun, this is what I’d trained for. There were a lot of crippling lows and euphoric highs on the Offa’s Dyke. I know that once the dust settles, it’s only the highs that will stand out.
As much as I loved the race, I loved the recces and my fast-packing experience even more. The Offa’s Dyke is a wonderful route, put it on your to-do-list.
Catharine Crossley
August 2024
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