“Running farther than I normally would” was the theme of last weekend, and very well it turned out too.

Low cloud greeted us, as forecast, on Saturday morning. Unfortunately no-one admitted to wanting to go for cake instead, so we had to at least start the run. James’ chosen route dictated that we start by heading up Siabod, so head up Siabod we did.

The weather hit us at about 750m, and continued to buffet us down Boundary Ridge to Bwlch y Rhediad (which my schoolboy Welsh tells me means, fittingly, something to do with running).

From there we dropped into Nant Gwynant and climbed back out of the other side to Pen y Pass. With all of the streams in spate it was certainly a day of wet feet throughout.

After a brief interlude we carried on towards the Miner’s Track up onto the Glyders.

With the wind picking up we abandoned any thoughts of going higher still, and instead battled over Y Foel Goch then continued east to eventually finish back at Capel.

At a healthy 25 km with 1700 m of ascent, it was a pretty substantial day. Earlier that morning I’d mentioned how much I enjoyed sitting in a river to ease my puny joints after a run. Unfortunately James remembered this comment and (much to Adrian’s chagrin) we all ended up partly submerged before returning to the accommodation.

Recuperation that evening involved everyone reading the latest edition of “Fell Runner“, then a pub dinner, and me trying to explain the scientific deficiencies of recent episodes of Doctor Who.

Sunday was much better, meteorologically speaking, so we set off for a round of the Carneddau. Some initial bright sunshine to start was swapped for the occasional cloud higher up, but with far less wind the going was much easier.

A consistent pace was maintained throughout, with James once again taking on the mantle of chief navigator.

We were soon over Pen yr Helgi Du, and onto a Snowdonia summit I’ve never visited before (shock horror!): Pen Llithrig y Wrach. By this point I was flagging a little, so the final descent towards Llyn Cowlyd and then back to Capel was a bit of a relief.

David soon hit race pace along the tarmac back to the village, but I’ll admit that after 17 km and 1320 m of climbing I was knackered. Thankfully we were spared another dip in the river, replacing it with a massive cooked breakfast at the Moel Siabod Cafe instead. Some great route choices by James, particularly on Saturday, and excellent company thankfully turned a wet and windy weekend into two decent runs (and more importantly, very enjoyable ones!).