Race date: Saturday 14th March 2026
Race report by Laura Rangeley

The Grindleford Gallop is a very popular (and rightfully so) 21 mile trail race with almost 3000 feet of climb, taking in a beautiful circular route from, as you might have guessed from the name, Grindleford. I have only done this race once before, in October 2023 (when the original planned March date had to be postponed due to snow). Back then, it was my longest run to date, and with many more miles in my legs now (and having had Covid in the run up to the race last time) I was very hopeful of achieving a course PB. It wasn’t an “A” goal race though, instead falling nicely in my ultra training plan as one of my longest individual runs whilst I work towards the Fellsman Dart at the end of April. Saddleworth 5 Res’s (16 miles) the weekend prior provided a great opportunity to test my (massive) kit list for the Fellsman, and with that under my belt, the Gallop was all about seeing how the legs felt on a 20+ mile run.

Open to walkers and runners alike, this year the organisers decided to introduce a rolling start window, with those aiming to complete the route in a more leisurely pace able to set off any time between 7.30 and 9.30am, with the competitive mass start at 10am. I plodded off shortly before 9, under absolutely beautiful blue skies – a real treat after the neverending dull and rainy days of winter. One key advantage of setting off early was that unlike last time, I didn’t get caught in bottlenecks and queues early on in the race, which took 5 minutes off my first kilometre split. Heading towards Eyam took us up a long uphill drag through some fields with glorious views, I was taking my time here and soaking in the scenery. A quick hello from Adam McAuley who breezed past me having already managed to fall in a muddy puddle, but otherwise I was on my own for the first third of the race, something which I began to find increasingly hard on the head. Leaving Eyam the route heads towards Great Longstone via White Rake and Longstone Moor. Moving into a headwind, with lots more hill and still less than 10k in – I was feeling sluggish, slow and generally not very happy, and with a long way to go had a strong sense of deja vu from 2023 that maybe I was just destined to have a hard time on this race. I stomped along grumpily through the second checkpoint where I grabbed a water top up and a few Jelly Babies and tried to remind myself that this was supposed to be fun. It was a gorgeous day, the skylarks were out in abundance, and even when feeling like a lumpy sack of potatoes it’s important to remember what a privilege it is to be capable of even attempting this sort of thing.

A slog up to the highest point of the race at Longstone Edge – which I’d been absolutely dreading – turned out to be just what I needed to get myself going, with big thanks to Robert Hoffman and his wife, who were walking the route as part of their wedding anniversary celebrations. I caught them up near the bottom of this particular hill, and thoroughly enjoyed a walk and a chat. A moment with some friendly faces really calmed me down and just allowed me to settle in – it probably didn’t hurt that there was a lovely, lengthy downhill to enjoy just after this too! In what seemed like no time at all I was whizzing through checkpoint 3 and finally doing something that actually felt like a gallop, through Great Longstone and onto the Monsal Trail.

Here comes arguably the most boring part of the route, which I know some of my hardy fell running pals were dreading – 3 miles on the trail itself. A flat, monotonous, busy trudge into Bakewell. For myself, an opportunity to keep some momentum going which I actually quite enjoyed – especially as half way along this stretch, at Hassop Station, was a full aid station, laden with homemade cakes, crisps, fruit and other such tasty treats. A surprise bonus here was bumping into a duo of fabulous Rachels who had set off shortly before me and were having a great run, another moment of cheer (thank you Rachel R for sharing your banana with me too!). Another mile or so of weaving around pushchairs, dogs and cyclists before time to leave behind the flat for a while and head up through Bakewell Golf Course, the most technical climb of the race although much less slippy than my last attempt at this race. The leaders of the competitive element of the race started to skip past me too, some of them looking rather unburdened by kit (more on that later), almost immediately followed by my husband Jim, who hadn’t suddenly become an elite runner but had got bored of waiting for the mass start to set off and was enjoying his run without the added pressure of feeling too much like racing. He kept me company for part of the hill but was well out of sight by the time I reached the top and another dibber point.

What follows is a gorgeous, sweeping grassy downhill into Edensor with views over Chatsworth House, before another easy going trot into Baslow which feels like it goes on forever. I got a bit emotional on this section – when I did this race in 2023, it was here at the point where it should have got a bit easier that my post-Covid legs totally gave up on me, and it was only the fact that I was doing the race to raise money for child loss charity Sands that prevented me from DNF’ing – but the rest of the run was a miserable, painful slog. This time, I was still plodding along, feeling strong and capable, and with a very special (and very loud) toddler in my life that I was looking forward to seeing later that weekend. This sport is so often so much more than “just a run” and I couldn’t help but shed a little tear, but from gratitude rather than sadness this time.

Anyway, after an absolute age where I decided the track past Chatsworth was in fact more arduous than the Monsal Trail, we finally reached Baslow and the last checkpoint. I lost over a full minute waiting for the traffic lights to change, realising I would surely perish if I tried to do what some other more nimble people were doing and dashing in between cars on the main road, before the last climb of the race. I know I’ve said this before but this bit also goes on and on and on. The road eventually changes to track as you head towards Curbar Edge, one of those uphills that looks like it’s flattening out but be warned that THIS IS A LIE. Not only does the ascent gently continue but it’s rocky underfoot, treacherous when your legs are so tired you can’t really pick your feet up any more, but despite a couple of close calls I just about managed to stay upright. Finally crossing Curbar Gap and onto Froggatt Edge the going does get easier, before the last km takes you on a plummet through some woodland back towards Grindleford. A last minute bout of cramp as I emerged onto the road was ignored for the last 200m back to the pavilion and the finish line, where delicious hot soup was served to anyone brave enough to climb a flight of stairs to get to it.

I was absolutely overjoyed to knock almost 40 minutes off my previous time, as well as having had a much more pleasant day out than my last go! Plus I got a new buff which immediately became my favourite of my extensive collection, featuring 8 designs drawn by kids from the local school. “You are tough!” proclaims a little character on there and do you know what, I believed her.

The race was won by Luke Wilkinson of Dark Peak in a super time of 2.38.24. Now remember me mentioning the unencumbered speedsters from earlier? Well Luke was actually 3rd to cross the line, but the top 2 got disqualified for not carrying the proper kit (so Instagram leads me to believe anyway). A LESSON TO US ALL (and a sort of vindication for me, already a known Stickler For The Rules). First female was Emily Cowper-Coles, also of Dark Peak, in a new course record of 2.40.24.

If you google this race, AI will tell you that Jim Rangeley won, as the first finisher from the non-competitive early start category. Just like the “flat bit” on Baslow Edge, not exactly the truth. Well done to Jim though!