My nose ran well!

I can't remember why I entered the Larmer Tree Races.  I mean, the guys at White Star Running are all thoroughly good eggs but, and this should not have escaped your notice if you have been reading my blog for a while, I do not like trail races, I am not a huge fan of hills and these are what White Star Running do brilliantly.  However it happened, possibly due to alcohol, I found I had entered the half marathon.  I had heard tales of 'stunning views' and 'awesome bling' that featured peacocks - so maybe these were also factors.  I told myself that a half marathon would be grand.  And then I looked at my training plan.  I was supposed to be running 20-22 miles today.  I knew that there was no way I would run an additional 7+miles on my own, so I emailed and asked if I could change races, hoping for a negative answer.  Of course they said yes!

After a week that involved Ofsted and me catching a cold from one or more of the sniffly boys at school - not good to be sneezing when one's cracked and dislocated ribs have not fully healed - my friend (still sensibly signed up for the half) and I got up at sparrow fart for a journey down to Larmer Tree Gardens near Tollard Royal in Wiltshire.  It was a foggy drive, but the mist was just clearing when we parked our car, collected our numbers and found the port-a-loos.  We met people we knew and waved off the people running the marathon, dithered about how many layers to wear, wondered if there was time for another trip to the loo (there wasn't!) and then it was my turn.   

Me in purple top and tasteful peacock print tights! Photo by CW

As we listened to the pre-race brief (basically don't be an idiot and follow the signs) the fog rolled back in and the temperature dropped by about 10 degrees Celcius, I was very glad of my extra layer and gloves - so what if no one could see my race number!  The first mile or two felt as though it was all down hill - which was rather worrying as we'd have to get back up them at the end of the run.  It was hard going underfoot - sort of hard packed gravel that punishes feet through trail shoes.  Never mind, we were going DOWNHILL, downhill is nice!  And then we saw a little hill...

I had decided that I would take this race easily, and just as well really.  The only thing that was running well was my nose, and there was no way I was going to try to run up that hill!  I decided that hills would be renamed as 'walking breaks!'  I don't think I saw anyone run up the more extreme hills, so I didn't feel too guilty!  The views from the top of the hills were amazing if slightly misty in the first part of the race. A big thank you to KE who took the pictures - I didn't have a camera with me, which is probably just as well as I'd still he out there clicking away!

 At the top of the hill a voice said 'A bit steeper than Tennis Court Hill' so I knew the owner was a Basingstoke parkrun regular - once again my parlous memory for faces and names had me at a disadvantage, after we'd been chatting for about a mile I began to introduce myself - he said 'I know exactly who you are!'  We bimbled along chatting companionably for about 5 miles, but I sensed that M probably wanted to go a bit faster than I was running, and knew that I would try to keep up with him and pay for it later.  So I decided to take advantage of a huge pile of felled tree trunks in order to answer a call of nature and M ran on.

This wasn't the best place to stop and then attempt to start again.  It was on a long, straight, uphill slope.  It seemed as though I could see straight ahead for a mile or more.  I plodded on.   At the 10 and a bit mile aid station I was told that I was the first 'peacock person' to pass them - so I am taking that as a minor victory as by this time the marathon runners had rejoined us.  At around 12 miles (for us) the half marathon runners joined our route (5 miles in for them) and I started chatting with a one legged runner.  I commented that I was amazed that he could balance on one leg and a blade when I struggled to say upright on 2 legs…. and with impeccable timing I face planted in the mud!  That isn't pleasant at the best of times, but it really does jar damaged ribs!

The last miles were tough.  I was in a lot of pain, but I was buoyed up by the encouragement of fellow runners.  One lady, K, and I played cat and mouse for miles and she was struggling too - cramps in her quads were causing her some distress.  I nagged her a bit when I overtook her standing by the side of the path - threatened to massage her quads for her if she didn't get a move on and stopped to encourage her to keep going!  We were at 18.6  miles so, in theory we had less than a mile and a half to go.  At 20 miles in, having run with her for a while, and with the end nowhere in site, we decided to walk up the last hill.  We are both doing Paris next month, she has a considerably better marathon PB than me, but we will both be in the same starting pen - so might just see each other there!

We got to a corner and started running, I had a little more left in my legs than I thought, and pushed towards the finish - on that nasty gravel path - past a very modern folly, through crowds of people cheering, in beautiful sunshine.  What a way to spend a Sunday!  Crossing the line is always a relief though.  I was handed my medal (gorgeous) and a food voucher and then stood around in a daze wondering what to do next!  K crossed the line so I went to see how she was - good, but not great - so I pointed her in the direction of the free massage tent.  I saw her, and her mother a bit later, lovely ladies both of them!  I saw some runners from Chineham Park Running Club - including my new friend M - who gave me a huge hug and a kiss.

I've only run one other White Star Running event - the Giant's Head Marathon - and I was impressed there by the atmosphere before and after the race.  This was no different - I would have loved to stay around and watch all the other runners finish while sitting in the sunshine, but I had to get back to plan lessons for the week ahead.  I commented to a couple of people that this 20 mile race (20.9 by my watch - but that is the joy of a White Star event - you always get more than you pay for) felt much tougher than the Giant's Head, I think that was down to my damaged thorax and rotten cold!

Edited - Am I the only person on the planet who has a totally logical phobia about eating off wooden implements?  Why on Earth would anyone want to put a wooden spoon or fork into their mouth?  It feels revolting… even sitting here writing about it makes my flesh crawl!  Today I almost had a melt down as there was no alternative to a wooden fork.  I managed to eat my macaroni cheese by scooping it up with a slice of garlic bread - but I must remember to pack a spork in my race bag!

That is the last long run before Paris at the beginning of April.  Now I need to cut down the mileage and concentrate on getting over colds and rib damage.  Once again I have managed to time my taper to coincide with a school holiday…. all that lovely free time that cannot be used to run!

A Valentine's Day PB!

I was about to start this blog with the line 'My relationship with this race isn't great,' but I see that this i.e. exactly the phrase I used last year!  So if anyone wants to know why I have issues with this race all they need to do is click that link.  Whatever you think about this race, there is no disputing the fact that having a 20 mile road race in the build up to the big spring marathons is a brilliant idea.  Running 20 miles on your own is not my idea of fun, but I would struggle to find a training partner who wanted to run at a similar pace to me and fear that I could easily persuade them that it would be a really good idea to stop for a coffee in that interesting looking coffee shop.  So, the race entries opened, and I found myself clicking the links, typing in my credit card details and crossing my fingers that there wouldn't be a repeat of last year's ashtray-gate!  

I didn't train for this race specifically.  My intention was to run it as a training run and see how I felt.  This was a good plan, as I'd ended up running a bit faster than I'd wanted to at parkrun yesterday due to a small person being unwell and not being there to slow me down to her glacial pace.  It had been cold - so my Garmin was buried under gloves and long sleeved top - I'd planned an easy run, wanting to run 5k in about 27/28 minutes, and I did feel I was running easily - chatting as I passed people on my way round, but finishing in 24minutes 26seconds.  Oops.  This morning was chilly but sunny - gloves and sunglasses weather - so I decided that I would not look at my watch at any point other than when I passed a mile marker.  I reckoned I was running this as a training run so I would run as fast or as slow as felt comfortable.  

Chatting to Mark (photographer)

We had the, now traditional and frankly one of the best things about Bramley, FetchEveryone meet up at A&G's house near the start.  Tea, gossip and proper loos - lovely! A two minute walk saw us at the start line, bumping into various people I knew on the way.  The first mile of the run was very congested - someone dropped a gel and ran back to pick it up which added to the melee.  The first few miles were crowded and good natured.  I ran along chatting to people I knew and enjoying the scenery - a group of 6 horses cantered across their field to have a look at us!  A friend commented that he could hear me chatting 'from miles away' and that he thought, as I passed him that he would easily be able to catch me later as I obviously wasn't taking it very seriously and was wasting my energy on talking! (*)

The water stations were frequent and one day I will learn to drink from a plastic cup while moving, the marshals were friendly and encouraging.  Special mention must go to the guys marshalling at about 9/19 miles.  They were the loudest marshals on the course!  At about 4 miles I saw a friend and his son running in the other direction - they'd not managed to get a race place, but decided to run anyway, and it was lovely to see them.  I was checking my watch at each mile marker, but not really paying much attention to it, if that makes sense.  There is a longish hill that goes up towards the 6 mile marker, it is much shallower on the first lap, I think they crank up the elevation for the second lap, but I was surprised to note that I had run one of my fastest miles on that stretch (8.16).  The secret to this was that I was chatting (yes, really, I know you'll find it hard to believe) to total strangers as we slogged our way up it.  

The last few miles of the first lap felt quite festive.  All the 10 miles finishers are looking forward to the finish, we all know there is a nice downhill stretch ahead.  It is hard not to get carried away.  I had a giggle at the 3/4mile, 1/2mile, and 1/4 mile to the finish signs - what is 10 extra miles between friends?  I got to the 10 mile finish thinking, 'Bother, if I was stopping now I'd be on for a PB!' Only just, but a PB all the same!  I did worry about the wheels coming off in the second half, but I didn't really have any option other than to carry on running, so I did.  

Given that more people run 20 miles at this event than run 10, it is surprising how empty the roads feel on the second lap.  The first mile - until the turn into Folly Lane - involved lots of overtaking of people who had finished the 10 mile race and were going back to the car park!  The lack of distraction made it feel a bit harder, although I still managed to chat away quite happily to people I was passing and others who were passing me.  The wind had also picked up and we ran the first couple of miles of the second lap into a rather bracing breeze!  Slopes that had seemed inconsequential when last encountered now felt like the north face of the Eiger.  The hills at 16 and 18 miles were still there - just with few people running up them!  

Multi tasking!

The last three miles were a bit dull.  Not many people around, scenery you've seen before, and my confused brain trying to work out if we'd done the last uphill bit of if we still had that to look forward to.  At 17 miles I'd looked at my watch and realised that I was on for a PB.  In fact, I could slow right down and still get a PB.  I didn't slow down though, I just carried on.  I was still overtaking a few people, although a couple of people who obviously take this pacing lark seriously did fairly whizz past at 19 miles!  

"I asked for gin!"

And then we were on the final downhill section to the finish.  I was smiling so much and felt as thought I could carry on running for miles!  One spectator pointed at  me and said 'Look at her - she doesn't look like it was an effort at all!'  I threw myself past one last runner as we approached the finish and was over the line and feeling elated!  I felt as though I was bouncing up and down with excitement.  An 11 minute PB!  I removed my timing chip, miracles never cease - I could actually bend over and remove it all by myself!  The support at the finish of the 20 mile race is a bit more muted than at the end of the 10 - lots of people have gone home by then, but it was still great to be over the line.  

Then, back to A&G's, having collected my medal, for tea, chilli and gossip and to see how everyone else had got on.  I had zero expectations of this race when I turned up this morning, but it turned out to be a fabulous day out!  I had no idea I was capable of running so well.  Thank you to Reading Road Runners for organising the race, and to A&G for their hospitality.

Keeping Britain/Bramley tidy

(*) He didn't catch me up.  I wasn't unsportsmanlike in my whoop of joy at running faster than him.

Decisions, decisions.

Had I been the type of person to believe in signs and omens I probably wouldn't have left the house this morning, or at least I would have turned back before I got 3 miles from home.

A squabble between child number 4 and child number 5 resulted in child 4 falling (or was he pushed?) off a chair and getting a black eye.  I decided to leave the house anyway.  I got about 2 miles from home and realised that I hadn't got my Garmin with me.  This wouldn't have been an insurmountable problem if I had been wearing a watch, but I wasn't, so I turned back and went home to get my watch.

I wasn't stressed, I still had plenty of time.  I got further this time.  And then I hit black ice.  I tried to turn left and the car slid across the road.  I braced myself for an impact as the car slid, sideways, into the verge.  I was driving a Volvo so there was no harm done to the car!  A wee bit further on I had to divert around a road closure (a fallen tree was being demolished), yet still I was determined to get to Bramley for the 10.30am start!

I last ran this race (the 10 mile version) two years ago, and remembered that one of the car parks was some way from the start, but arriving with very little time to spare I felt I couldn't risk driving to the closer car park, finding no spaces and then having to drive back again.  I parked at 10.10am and had to run the mile and a half to the venue, I got there with a few minutes to spare, dropped my bag at the baggage drop, realised I'd left my Shot Blocks in my bag so had to go back and get them, then I dashed to the queue for the loos and made it to the start line with about a minute to spare.

So, we were off.  The weather was fabulous, blue skies (if you can remember what they look like) and lovely and warm.  A bit too warm really.  I was wearing a long sleeved top under a t-shirt and the long sleeved top had to go.   It is quite a faff to remove one top from under the other while running, but I managed it!  It was all going quite well at this point, and at about 4.5 miles I caught up with some friends I know via Basingstoke parkrun and ran with them for a few miles.  At 5 miles everything started to hurt.  Or rather, everything down the right hand side of my body started to hurt.  I think the adrenaline from the near miss in the car and the aggro of getting to the start had worn off and the earlier impact was taking its toll.  I told my friends to run on, and said that I was going to stop at 10 miles.  I meant it.  I limped past friends from parkrun and Fetcheveryone who were there supporting the runners, assuring them all that I would stop at 10 miles.  I still meant it.  I'd forgotten that the course seems to be almost totally uphill, apart from a nice little downhill to the finish.  I really couldn't face running the second lap.

At the 10 mile point the runners were directed to the left if they were finishing the 10 mile race and to those running the 20 mile race to the right.  I knew I wasn't eligible to finish the 10 mile race, so I carried on, thinking that I would pull up soon after.  My training plan stated that I should run 15 miles today, so I had it in my mind that I would get to 12.5 miles and then turn round and come back.  At about 11 miles I stood by the side of the road and updated my Facebook status to say 'This will be my first DNF.  Entire right hand side of body is agony - I blame the skid earlier.  11 miles done and I'm heading back to the start.' And I meant it, I really did.  At this point, a friend passed me, and told me I should head back, so I ran with him for a while instead and decided to see if I could get to 15 miles.  I adopted a 'run/walk' strategy, running for 4 minutes and walking for 1 minute and struggled on.  And I do mean struggled.  I had no power in my right leg, but the further I went the less sense it made to give up.  15 miles came, and I realised that even if I walked the rest of the away I would finish before the 4 hour cut off time.  So on I went.  I was encouraged by fellow runners.  Spurred on by setting myself small goals (one of them was to get away from the woman with the jangley coins in her pocket) I eventually found myself at the sign saying 3/4 of mile to go - the end was almost in sight and the last half mile is gloriously down hill.  I had nothing left, I just wanted to get this over with.  I managed to cross the line, and then grabbed railing and hobbled though the finish area, waving off some concerned questions from the first aiders and collecting my goody bag.

I was about to head home when I head someone call "Hello Fetchie" (I was wearing my Fetch hoodie) and turned to find myself being invited back to a strangers' house for 'Tea, cake, chilli...'  Now, much as I would advise my children not to go home with people they have met on the internet, I have never been much for following my own advise, and was reassured when I heard that mutual friends were already there.  Tea, cake and a bit of chat in a very comfy chair followed.  Thank you to 'Ironmum' for making me feel so welcome - it might even make the prospect of running this race again a bit more inviting.  

I staggered back to the car, turned the heated seat on, and drove home without incident.  It took me a while to get out of the car when I got home, and even longer to get up the stairs to the shower, where I discovered that yet another pair of running tights have started to chafe.  I am going to have to have a clear out of worn out running kit if I want any skin left on my back!  

So, not a great day, but beautiful weather and a time (3:25:55) I can aim to better if I ever run another 20 mile race!