A school-night blast around the Peak District with Ben J last week blew away the cobwebs and brought out my competitive streak.

The Burbage Skyline 2011 race was part of the Accelerate Gritstone series, and was the first experience either of us have had of a Dark Peak Fell Runners race. Arriving on Tuesday evening we found massive queues to register for the 5.75 mile course, but miraculously everything seemed to start on time, with around 360 runners. It was the first time Ben and I had ever run together, so hopes were high that the partnership would work – we’re running LAMM together in less than a month! The mass start progressed slowly, but on turning down the first hill Ben suddenly found his ‘on’ switch and shot off down the slope, making up around 35 places in the process. My little legs were going crazy trying to match his gangly pace, and so we made good pace past Mother Cap and over Owler Tor. Higgar Tor slowed us and everyone else to a crawl. Ben displayed an unswerving dedication to climbing when – bucking the trend of breathing deeply and trying to gain some more oxygen – his only thought at the top of Higgar was to question whether the picture on the front of Eastern Grit is The File or The Rasp.

Off the top of Higgar we dropped down into the valley and followed the river up to Burbage Bridge, whence we turned for home. I took over from Ben at this point and started dictating the pace; I pulled ahead to test his mettle and he upped the pace admirably. Dropping down between Burbage North and South onto the main footpath, the last half mile turned into an endurance sprint. We’d stayed together this long; nothing could separate us now. Possibly. Approaching a bloke we’d been following for most of the race, I decided that I wasn’t going to let him beat me and so I sped up to pass him. Committed, I realised I’d actually have to take the entire group he was with. At the same time a spectator shouted to someone else nearby “Sprint! Take the pack now!“. Never having been sure of the etiquette in this situation, I took great delight in someone finally giving me (albeit unintentionally) the clarification I’d been waiting for, and floored it for the last hundred yards. I took the group – including the main target figure – and then surprised even myself by continuing to speed along and across the finish line.

Poor old Ben wasn’t expecting this mad last-minute dash (although neither was I, to be honest) and responded remarkably quickly to me suddenly disappearing! He also blitzed the main group and came in just two positions behind me, although I failed to understand the queuing system at the finish line and consequently did myself out of those two places by waiting for him at the wrong place! Hearty congratulations followed, along with a visit to the chip shop and thence to the pub to meet the rest of MPS. The results came out a few days later, placing us 173rd and 174th out of 354. All in all, a successful race and hopefully we’ll be able to make the next one on 3rd June.