This was my slowest ever marathon in 6:22, although in my defence...

1. It was hilly. 4,800ft of climb, most of it in the second half, and most of it made up of 20+ minute climbs.

2. I'm still recovering from running 104 miles a month ago and a marathon PB two weeks ago.

3. I spent a lot of time hanging around at checkpoints eating. At one of the three main checkpoints I had three slices of pizza, two pieces of quiche, some Jaffa cakes and a handful of jelly sweets. 

4. The first few km after each checkpoint were pretty slow for some reason.

5. I kept stopping to take selfies because I'm practising to be a ‪#‎DouchebagUltrarunner‬

I'll be quicker next week (unless there's pizza at the Potteries).

This was the most horrendous marathon I’ve ever done.

It started when I got out of the car and was immediately covered in midges – only little ones, but they were everywhere. They were even worse at the registration area, and apparently it was the same last year. Everyone who’d done it before was happily covering themselves with bug repellent, and the marshals were all wearing full body cover and mosquito net hats so they knew what to expect, although they’d not mentioned anything in the race notes. Which was nice of them.

The race itself went like this:

0-10k: Clouds of midges, few hills.

10k-20k: Wiped what I though was sweat from my forehead, hand came back black with midges (repeated 500 times), few more hills, and some downhill single-track that would’ve been lovely to run down except for the midges and having to stop repeatedly as there were too many people on it.

20k-30k: Arms, legs, face, hair, neck all covered in midges. Most dying or at least incapacitated by sweat or the bodies of their brethren. Midges in my eyes, and swallowing a lot too. Definitely worse in this stretch. Also some hills and frustrating downhill single-track queues.

30k-42km: Just wanted to die, would have set myself on fire at this point to get rid of the bugs if I’d had a lighter. Fortunately getting stuck behind a group of people running 14min miles on the final downhill bit of single-track took my mind off the bugs for a bit.

On the upside, I’ve never been so glad for a race to be over, so I guess there’s that.

In defence of the race organisers they’ve just said they’ll put something about the midges in the race notes for next year so people can come prepared (or not at all) – but I won’t be there, even with all the bug spray in the world. It’s three days since the race and I’m still scratching the hundreds of red angry welts on my arms and legs. I’m sure from October to March without the bugs it’s a lovely place to run, but the amount of narrow track still makes it an awkward race route. It seems like all the uphills are wide open fire roads, and all the downhills are narrow twisty single-track, great on your own or at the front, but if you’re anywhere near the middle of the pack or running even/negative splits it’s just too annoying having stop and wait for people because there are hardly any places where you can pass them.

Hurt like hell, especially the last three miles or so, but sneaked a PB, 3:09:14:-)

Lots of races make outrageous claims to try and attract runners. On one end of the scale are the flattest, fastest, most PB-friendly races. On the other, the toughest, most gnarly, smash your quads to bits bragging rights races. Then you've got other races that have a “thing”. Medal like a bin lid, checkpoints stocked like kids birthday parties, that sort of thing.

Bolton Hill marathon doesn't have any of that, which at first glance makes it easy to skip past in the race listings in favour of more glamorous, challenging or sexy sounding marathons. But don't do that. It's the best fucking marathon ever.

Having just done it for the fourth time and spent the last three days walking around with a stupid grin on again, I've been trying to work out what make it such a great race – great enough to stand out head and shoulders above the 40 or so marathons and ultras I've done in the last 12 months. I've narrowed it down to a few things…

The hills. Ok, the clue is in the name, and there's about 3,000ft of elevation across the course, which certainly isn't flat, but it's a long way off things like Hell of a Hill. There's a massive climb up Winter Hill to start with, but it's runnable, the view from the top is great, and you get to bomb down the either side which is neat early on. Then, apart from a few little lumps and bumps, it's mostly flat until about 21 miles in when there's a nice tasty climb to set up a sweet downhill finish. It's a really great distribution of the ascent, most of it early when you're fresh, or late when you're knackered. Way more interesting than say Kielder which has the same ascent but made up of like a million 10ft ups and downs, or Stroud which stuffs the same amount of climb into the last few miles just for a laugh.

The terrain. It’s REALLY multi-terrain. There's road (not much), moorland, rocky paths, forest trail, grass trails, the lot. The only thing it doesn't have is sand, and I'm not arsed about that because I live in Formby and sand’s all we've got. It's a proper trail race with a bit of everything, and as you're always moving from one type of trail to another you get a real sense of progress as the terrain changes. Because of that there are no seemingly endless bits where you find yourself wondering “will this rocky/hilly/muddy/grassy bit ever end?” because every few miles you're onto the next bit. This also makes a great race for running discussion boards, because there is no right answer to the question “what shoes should I wear?”.

The organisation. The whole operation is spot on. Registering is easy, the check points are in the right place and the marshals are brilliant, the course marking is good without needing 26 miles of barrier tape, the start and finish area is great, and the fair next to the start/finish area has an inflatable gorilla. Every race finish should have an inflatable gorilla.

Then there's the last three miles. Oh the last three miles. All downhill, all a bit rocky and technical, and just inviting you to give it whatever you've got left – if you can stay on your feet. And I think that's at the heart of why I love this race so much. If you drop the pace, walk up the big climbs, go easy on the rocky bits and coast down the last descent, you'll have a grand day out. But as soon as you crank it up a bit, it just gets tougher and tougher. There are gambles to take everywhere, and whatever pace you're comfortable at on any of the sections, you can cause yourself some major problems just by upping the pace a smidge. There's a glorious increase in jeopardy every time you kick the pace up a bit, whether it's pushing harder up the hills, speeding on the flatter but tricky rocky paths around Rivington Pike, or doing your best runaway mine cart impression for the last couple of miles of rocky, narrow downhill back to the finish.

As for me, this time around I ran pretty even splits and got a course PB by about ten minutes, finally hurtling (metaphorically speaking) into the finish area in about 3:47, good enough for 24th place. I took a chance and wore my Hoka Challengers which worked out great for the downhill sections and just ate up the rocky bits. I know I can do better though. I wasn't 100% recovered from Foxton a couple of weeks ago, I know I could've crushed the middle section a little more if I'd been in better shape, and I was faffing about quite a bit at the beginning. The way 2016 is starting to line up I could be in decent shape for this next year which would be awesome, I've loved every one of the four times I've done this race, but I've still not had a proper go at it:-)