Return to Wasing Park

I'd been obsessively checking the weather forecast for over a week.  I knew where my tent was, what food I was going to take with me and which clothing I would pack.  In other words, apart from a lack of adequate training and niggling injuries, I was as ready as I could be for another Solo Endure 24!

Yet again, Husbando had a busy weekend (work, school fete, childcare, gardening) so I would be 'on my own' for the first day.  Not that it is possible to be on one's own at Endure.  There are so many familiar faces and the majority of them are bloody lovely!  I set up my tent next to a friend's on Friday evening, went to a Stewart Lee gig and then home to bed.

Saturday was sunny.  After days of looking at a forecast that promised rain we were now apparently assured a dry weekend.  Wet weather gear was swapped for sunscreen and hats.  After faffing around and getting a massage to try to loose up my piriformis and hamstring it was time to go to the start line.  There seemed to be far more people than last year, but as with last year the atmosphere at the start was amazing.  Starting near the back, and feeling quite exhausted (it has been a busy few weeks) it was easy not to go off to fast.  The sun was beating down, we were on our way up the 'Hill of no return.'

When it comes to setting targets, I am my own worst enemy.  I had wanted to defer my entry, but had missed the deadline.  I knew that I was not as fit as I had been last year and that the 24 hours were going to be really hard work. I desperately wanted to equal last year's mileage (70miles), but knew that this would be a tall order.   After three lap I wanted to quit.  Laps are a mental challenge at the best of times and, despite the fact that I was running at a good steady pace, my heart and head weren't in it and I couldn't see the appeal of running 11 more laps.  About this time I bumped into some running buddies and that changed my event.  Several renditions of 'I know a song that will get on your nerves,' (I only shifted that earworm by singing 'Bye Bye Miss American Pie' very loudly) and discussions about all sorts of things (more of this later, maybe!) helped the miles tick by.

My 'runners' Alzheimer's' was in full force.  People kept saying hello to me and calling out my name - and I was wracking my brains to try to match a name to the face.  I was convinced that I must be wearing one of my tops with my name on it - but I wasn't!  I do apologise if I looked a bit vague at times.  Between laps I was the Queen of Faff!  I probably wasted hours trying to decide if I needed to go to the loo or not, whether I wanted to eat or not, change my shoes or not.  I also worried about a friend who was not having a good time.

I wanted to complete 45 miles before bedtime, after 8 laps (40 miles) I was flagging.  I decided to walk the next lap and was joined by a friend who was here to support members of her running club.  We hadn't seen each other for a while and it was great to catch up!  She sets a cracking walking pace and we saw the famous Forest Faries! After that I had a massage and, just after midnight, retired to my tent.  I timed this to coincide with the portaloos in the solo area being serviced - a lovely aroma and noise to act as a lullaby.  I decided to allow myself 3.5hrs sleep with the aim of being back out again in 4 hours.  I may have been lying down, but I didn't get much sleep - the solo area is near the track and all night there are team runners calling out to try to find the next team member.

Then it started raining.  I think that may have lulled me to sleep, but it was still raining when the alarm went off at 3.30am.  This meant that long tights and a waterproof were needed, not shorts, but the condensation inside my single skin tent meant that I was likely to get soaked if I tried to change in the tent.  I retired to my car and contorted myself into long tights while sitting in the driver's seat.  It would have been much easier to do this in the passenger seat - but I didn't realise that until I was half into my tights!  As I got out of the car the bloody rain stopped!

That first lap on Sunday was tough.  I was so tired that I was falling asleep on my feet.  I got back to the car, wiggled out of long tights and back into a pair of shorts, and texted Husbando to say that I was going to have a 20 minute nap before going out again.  He said to wait for him because he would be here in 40.  I was asleep within minutes.

The last four laps were much more walking than running, accompanied by Husbando, we maintained a fairly brisk pace.  My legs were too tired to even attempt to run on some of the more uneven sections.  My feet were burning.  Every footstep was painful.  My brain could barely compute the 5x table.  This lead to great joy when I realised I only had two laps left to do not three!

The last lap seemed to take forever, but as I zig zagged across the field at a shuffle and turned the corner to approach the finish I could see that there was no one between me and the finish arch.  There were loads of people around the finish so I couldn't carry on shuffling - I had to put on a burst of speed.  I felt as though I was sprinting, I probably looked like a three legged donkey, but I heard the commentator name check me and he said that I was sprinting so it must be true!

At last it was over!  I was so happy to be able to stop.  I eased my trainers off, peeled my socks away from my skin and realised why I was in so much pain.  Blisters!  I don't get blisters!  But today, maybe because of the heat I had a life time's supply.  Blisters on the side of my feet, the base of my feel, under my heel and between my toes!  Putting on flip flops was painful!

Thank you to everyone who helped me through the last couple of days!  You are all awesome.

Take the slow train.

When I signed up for this event, I hadn't got a place at the London Marathon, so I wasn't at all concerned about running it three weeks after Paris.  I'd taken part in last year's event, which was On the Whistle's first event, and had a really lovely time, churning out 35 miles in the 6hours available.  There was never any doubt that I'd be on the start line, but what came next was more uncertain.

As with last year, Husbando came too.  We parked the car, bumped into one of my very favourite running people, who is injured at the moment.  He was totting his camera and accompanied by his dog.  We collected our numbers, stowed our bags in the tent, chatted with friends and waited for the whistle to send us off on our way.  We were in good spirits and the first half mile was uneventful.  That's right, the first half mile was uneventful.  Suddenly Husbando was on the ground.  He'd gone over on his ankle.  I stayed with him for a while - it didn't look good, and he told me to go on.  After checking that he could stand up, and bear weight on his leg, I did just that.  I stopped to tell the marshal at the turnaround point to keep an eye out for him and, as we were chatting, I saw Husbando approaching, so I waited for him.  We bimbled on together, Husbando's ankle and knee were not good, but he persevered and very nearly ran 4 laps, pulling up about three quarters of the way around lap 4 and walking the last bit to qualify for his half marathon medal.

I continued on, I adopted a run 9mins, walk 1min strategy,  interspersed with stops to feed my face at the aid station.  I have strict rules about my run/walk strategy.  If the 1min walk coincides with a downhill stretch then you miss the walk break and carry on running until the next scheduled walk break.  This wasn't really relevant today as the course was pretty flat.  Another rule is that, if I miss the start of the minute walk then it is forfeit and I carry on until the next walk break.   I skipped quite a lot of walk breaks, some of them to make up for spending too long at the aid station, others to try to catch up with a runner I fancied chatting to, and to avoid being lapped by a friend!  

I do love an event where I get to see so many friends and so often!  It is even better when the weather is kind, which it was for most of the day.  The forecast had threatened rain from about 11am, but it remained dry right up to then end of my 7th lap (8 were needed for a marathon).  I am pretty certain that, had it been raining from 11am the distance I covered would have been greatly reduced!  As it was I finished my 24th marathon, 5th this year and 3rd in April in 4hrs44mins.  Strava tells me my moving time was 4hrs 21 - which sounds about right as I did spend a lot of time faffing about.

Huge thanks to On The Whistle for another great event!  I'm off to put my feet up!

London marathon, a tale of snot rockets, kittens and royalty.

You know that bit in any race instructions that says 'do not race if you feel unwell, have a flu type cold or an injury?'  Does anyone ever pay that any attention?   I nearly did.  At 7.50pm, having struggled to walk the length of Shaftesbury Avenue while wheezing and coughing, I sent out a desperate plea, via Facebook, asking if it was possible to defer a charity place... I had 9 minutes to make the decision, if a deferral was possible.  The responses I got were of the 'Man up, cupcake!' variety, with a side order of, 'No you can't defer charity places.'  So it was off to bed with a dose of paracetamol for me.

Husbando and I were staying in London so at least we wouldn't have to get up at sparrow fart in order  for me to get to Greenwich Park for the start.  As an added bonus, the hotel we stayed in had decided to start their breakfast service early so that the marathon runners could eat before heading off.  I felt grim, couldn't taste my breakfast and swallowing toast felt like swallowing razor blades, but the only option I had was to run.... A 10am start to the race made for a leisurely start to the day.  It felt odd travelling to the start by myself - but there were plenty of other runners to chat to.  The Red Start was enormous, but once I'd located the loos, the baggage wagons and the start pens I was much happier.  The loo queues were something else!  From the end of the queues the loos weren't even visible!

It took me 10 minutes to cross the line and a nice steady pace was enforced by the sheer volume of runners all around me.  From the start there were people lining the route and cheering us on.   The red starters don't merge with the blue runners until about 3 miles into the race.  I think the blue runners may have crossed the line faster than us, as suddenly I felt we were amongst runners who were at a slower pace, which added to the congestion.  It was good natured though, yes there were collisions between runners (I doubled up in agony after an elbow caught me awkwardly) but there was none of the ill mannered pushing and shoving that I experienced in Paris two weeks ago.  The weather was fabulous at the start, sunny but not too hot, but I had no expectations of running a good time.  For one, it was hugely busy, and for another thing I felt grim!  In my mind I planned to run the first half, hopefully see Husbando there for a quick chat, and then run 9mins and walk 1min for the rest of the race.

As it was, I saw Husbando with the Fetchpoint guys at around 14 miles, but there were on the other side of the road with the fast runners already coming back, so I plodded on!  At some point, I think about 16 miles, I did drop down to the 9/1 strategy, but got bored and managed to blast out two fast miles (8.02 and 9.09 minutes).  There was no way I could manage to run that fast for much longer today, but I wanted to see if I could manage it. Probably a silly thing to do, but it was fun.

I'd been anticipating that Canary Wharf would be quiet, and was quite looking forward to a respite, but there were crowds EVERYWHERE!  The noise was intense at times, the only quiet(ish) sections were in the tunnels.  I chatted to a few other runners, at one point telling everyone around me that I'd just had kittens!  It isn't often that you get a text with the single word KITTENS while you are running a marathon.  Another time, while talking, briefly, to a friend who was speeding ahead, a man said 'I just want to thank you for running for Treloar's - my son is starting there in September.'  He was running for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and (I think) wearing a cape.  There were very few of us running for Treloar's so the chances of the two of us bumping into each other were tiny.

At around 22 miles I was back at Fetchpoint to say hello to everyone, scarf down some cocktail sausages, hug Husbando and thank that Fetcheveryone community for the generous fundraising donation that made my run possible.  There was not far to go now, but after being virtually spot on for the first 9 miles, my Garmin was wildly out now,  it was reading up to half a mile more than the markers on the road said I'd run, and it seemed to me that the difference was just increasing as time went on.  I'd been hearing 'Toria' screamed at me almost constantly, so when I heard 'Victoria' shouted at around 25 miles I figured that it must be someone who actually knew me... I turned and saw a familiar face, ran back (not far - only a couple of metres) and gave him a hug.  I then realised that, yes I did know him, but possibly giving your Head of Year a hot and sweaty hug is not quite the done thing!  Sorry!  Still, it cheered me up no end to see him, and then another parkrun friend a few hundred yards later.

Suddenly we were running past the Houses of Parliament and the end was nearly here.  But, boy, Birdcage Walk is long!  I think it is longer than when I ran the Westminster  Mile there!  My impression is that I was overtaking more people than were overtaking me.  I certainly didn't give it my all today, I couldn't as I had a head full of snot and cotton wool, but the run did give me back a little of the confidence I have lost over recent races.  As we rounded the top of Birdcage Walk and ran past Buckingham Palace I picked up my pace a bit.  I could see the finish line.  And then it was over.  I'd done it.  Not my best marathon, by a long way, about half an hour slower than I wanted to be, but over 15 minutes faster than two weeks ago in Paris, without feeling as though I've worked anywhere near as hard!

I trundled through the process of getting medals, t-shirts and retrieving my kit bag.  I'd got my medal and walked (hobbled?) on when the woman behind me squealed.  I turned back and realised that the bloke handing out the medals, who had looked a little familiar, was Prince William!  Now that is a selfie opportunity I well and truly missed!  As I passed the baggage lorries I saw friends from my local running club - fabulous to say hello!

I made my way back to the hotel, Husbando had organised late check out, so I could have a shower and change before driving home.  What a brilliant idea that was!  All in all, a brilliant day out!

Huge thanks to everyone who has donated to Treloar's Trust, donations are still welcome... https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/MrsBridgewater1?utm_medium=email&utm_source=ExactTarget&utm_campaign=20170303_96877

April in Paris

I should have known the weekend would not go entirely to plan when there was no Haribo stand at the Expo!  I'm not saying that it was the highlight of last year's Paris trip - but it was a pretty good way to start the weekend.  I had the restraining presence of Husbando with me, which meant that I didn't spend too much money at the expo!

We arrived on Thursday, and checked into my first ever AirB&B apartment - that was a slightly stressful experience - I was half convinced that we would find that there was no such apartment and that we would have nowhere to sleep that evening.  As it was our apartment was there, just off av. Foch and ideally suited for our needs.  After dropping off our bags we headed to the expo and picked up our race numbers and t-shirts for the Breakfast Run.    Friday was spent hanging out with friends, walking about a bit and looking, anxiously, at the weather forecast.

Saturday morning was glorious!  We made our way to the new start for the Breakfast Run (in previous years it had started just outside our front door, but this year a short Metro journey to Palais Royal-Louvre was required).  The new route was stunning!  Through the courtyard at the Louvre, over the river, past the Museé d'Orsay and then along the bank of the Seine  before finishing right next to the Eiffel Tower.  The Breakfast Run is strictly a 5k fun run.  Husbando and I started at the middle of the 3,000 strong group of runners and ran together for the first couple of kilometres before he decided he needed to have a pee.  I carried on, comfortably at 9min/mile until I realised that I was catching up with the pace car.  From then on it was 10.15min/mile pace for the rest of the way.  It felt incredibly slow - but the irony of the fact that there would be times the next day when 10 min/miles would seem like a really fast time!  Coffee, croissants, bananas and bottled water were provided at the end.  It felt really fabulous to be running.  I was suddenly buoyed up with enthusiasm and confidence.  Despite my less than ideal training I though that I might just manage a halfway reasonable time at the marathon.  Maybe the two marathons and the couple of really long trail runs I'd already done this year would be enough to get me through.  

Husbando was running his first 'proper marathon.'  He'd run an accidental marathon at one of On The Whistle's events, but I have always thought that it is easier to run a lapped event, where you can stop for drinks, food, hugs, loo break, change of clothes every three or four miles than a traditional marathon.   After the heat last year, I'd decided to buy ourselves a little bit of extra time in the cooler early part of the day and put us down for a totally unrealistic (for me!) time of 3hr30min, with the hope that I might get sub 4, this meant we had a start time of 8.35am.  My friend, running her first ever marathon, put herself down for the 4hr30 plus pen, with a start time of 9.50am.  Husbando was so excited about his big race that he set his alarm for 5.30am .... we'd decided that the two of us would need to leave at 7.50am!  I set mine for 7.10am, and was ready to leave at 7.50.... Husbando was just getting dressed....We eventually left just before 8am.  We got 5 steps outside the apartment before he realised that he had the wrong glasses.  Argh!  No matter, we were close to the start, we had  enough time.  We tried to get into the start pen.  It was so full we couldn't get in as it was so full - it wasn't until they started moving the runners forward that we could get into the pen.  I wasn't panicking, not really, but it wasn't the least stressful start to a race!

Husbando and I ran the first few miles together, it was getting warm pretty quickly.  I think there may be a cheesy photo of us running and holding hands somewhere!  Husbando had a pace band for four hours, and I could hear him doing the maths to work out if we could still make it.  I knew we couldn't and any amount of maths on his part would not change that.  I knew that I was probably being pushed on too hard and that disaster lay ahead if I carried on running with Husbando.  I also didn't want to hamper his chances of getting a great marathon time.  I decided to take a tactical pee break in the woods.  We'd got to nearly 9 miles and we were already baking.

I decided that as sub 4, or even close to 4, was off the cards I would just get round.  It shouldn't be too hard... but it got hotter and hotter.   I've probably run in hotter weather, but not much and not out of the blue.  A friend informs me that the average temperature in the shade while I was running was 26 degrees with a maximum of 31 degrees.  And there is precious little shade on the Paris marathon route!  I don't think I've ever run a race where so many of the other runners were downright rude!  I know the route was crowded, that the course was very narrow at several places, but to push another runner out of the way is unacceptable.  And I'm not talking about the unintentional bashes that occur by accident, on several occasions I was pushed out of the way by another runner trying got get past.  The course does get narrow at times - because spectators crowd onto the road.

At some point I got it into my head that I needed to go to the loo.  Probably because every single portaloo I saw on the route was padlocked closed, apart from the one that I climbed over a concrete barricade to get to at about 16 miles.  That one was so disgusting that I couldn't even step inside it to use it.   Ah well, I soldiered on.  Then my foot started hurting.  My right foot.  It hurt every time I pushed off, a couple of mile later the fact that I was obviously 'running funny' meant that my hamstring was making its presence felt.  At 18 miles (ish) we ran under a pedestrian bridge that had a load of people touting trade for (I think) the Chicago marathon.  The noise there was phenomenal, and slightly scary.  I began to panic about my ability to run London if it was going to be this noisy.... and would my foot even work?   At this point I popped into a cafe and asked if I could use their toilet.  Amazingly they said yes, but that the toilet was upstairs.  I went up, locked the door and burst into tears.  I looked at my garmin, it said I'd done 19.69 miles, so I sent a text to the three friends who were with me in Paris, saying that I had 7 miles to go (overestimating the distance I thought) that I was in pain, and that I might have to walk the last 7 miles.  You can imagine how awful I felt when I'd been running a bit longer and got to the 19 mile marker!  (My watch at this point read 19.75miles!)

I did some maths, calculated that I was walking at about 15min/mile pace, and that I wasn't prepared to be out there for another hour and three quarters, so I was just going to have to suck it up and at least run part of the way.  So that's what I did.  More rude runners, very hot sunshine, minimal support where it was really needed in the last stages through the Bois de Boulogne made this a less than joyful experience.  I was just glad to finish.  Husbando had finished about 20 minutes ahead of me, having struggled in the heat too.

Having collected our medals we went back to the apartment, had a shower, got changed and had a quick snooze before heading back to the finish line to support my friend.  I was wearing flip flops and compression tights - an attractive combination!  The marathon website states that there is a 6 hour cut off from the time the last runners start.  I was getting concerned that we were getting close to the limit, so I told Husbando (jeans and trainers) and my friend's husband (t-shirt and cargo shorts) that I would head back along the route to find her (wearing my finisher's t-shirt, medal, compression tights and flip flops!)  I ran back about 2km, shouting encouragement at the runners coming toward the finish, until I found her.  We ran her last 2km overtaking people along the way as she upped her pace (probably to get away from my incessant and inane chatter) and got to the bottom of av. Foch just as they were starting to move a lories and fork lift truck across the bottom of the road to close the finish.  We legged it up to the finish, I had tears running down my face, with her husband joining us too.  Husbando, taking pictures, said that there were only about 10 more people who finished after us, so I am so glad that I made the decision to take my knackered legs back out there to chivvy her along!  She worked so hard to complete her marathon, the idea of not making the cut off does not bear thinking about.  I am so proud of her.  She was out there in the full heat of the day, while the people at the water stations were packing up the tables as she ran through them and she DID IT!

We took our medals out for supper - the best steak frites we've had in long time, before collapsing into bed.  Some of us will run another marathon, one of us says she won't but I doubt any of us will be in a hurry to enter Paris next year!

Larmer Tree Marathon

Today was a lesson in respecting the marathon distance.  I may have run a few now, but there is no place for becoming complacent about what is, by any stretch of the imagination, quite a long way to run.  I've had a few tough runs recently, culminating in the aptly named 'Plod' two weeks ago, but I was quite excited about today.  As excited as you can be when you are exhausted and overworked and still trying to sort out the house you moved into a few weeks ago.

I'd run the 20 mile race at Larmer Three Gardens last year.  And while I was running that I seem to remember thinking that it was silly to run 20 miles when there was a 26 mile option available, so that is what I signed up for, fool that I am.  The weather forecast was not promising, so we arrived with loads of layers, waterproofs. hats etc.  Numbers were collected.  Mine was so wrong it was almost right.

It is quite a long time since the last White Star Running event down in Bovington, so it was lovely to see all the regular characters.  We chatted away as we waited for the start.  I was on the look out for peacocks, while at the same time realising that the peacock leggings I was wearing were not the same, very comfortable, Tikiboo pair that I wore last year.  I have no idea where they were from, but they will not be worn again.  One of the many things you are told when you start training for marathons is that you should not wear something during a marathon that you have not road tested for a good few miles beforehand.  This oversight would come to bite me on the bum a few miles into the run.

The start was lovely, apart from the weather!  Damp and drizzly.  It was down hill and on tarmac, this was going to be ok.  I got to the first water station at about 6 miles feeling relatively confident and making fairly good time.  Within 2 miles that had all changed.  It was tough going, but not unrunable at this stage, the ground was either very slippery or very sticky.  At times it was like running over a huge tube of Prit Stick, it took lots of effort to even life feet off the ground.

By 8 miles I was walking along a totally flat path, sobbing.  Really sobbing, and just feeling a huge sense of despair.  And that was before I saw The Hill.  At least this was a reason to walk!  Or stagger...  From then on I think I did more walking than running.  To be fair, there were loads and loads of people walking.  It was hard to motivate myself to run when there were so many people walking all around me.  I had blisters on my insoles, from trainers that have never rubbed before and chaffing where no one ever wants chaffing from the evil leggings, which only added to my misery!  I chatted with lots of lovely people, who made the whole day bearable - bizarre conversations about conspiracy theories not withstanding.

The route was varied, we ran though pretty villages, lovely woods and across fields with stunning views, the marshals and aid stations were supportive and enthusiastic.  The Love Station was fantastic as always - a much needed hug and dose of MTFU was administered here, along with handfuls of mini sausages, pretzels and jelly babies!  From here it was 'just' 6 long miles to the finish.  One hair raising descent and a long slog uphill were involved, but the end was in sight.. almost.  The trademark '400ish yards to go' sign came and went and all that was left was a nasty gravelly path, past a folly to the finish.  I managed to overtake a fair few people as my desperation to get this ordeal over and done with manifested itself.  I crossed the line and was given a medal and a hug, by one of the regular WSR team.  She has been at every event I have done, and always greets me with a smile and a hug- I really wish I knew her name!

After sitting down on a conveniently placed chair and getting my breath back, I went to get my lunch (included in the entry price) while the three of us who had travelled down together reassembled and rehydrated before the journey home.

Thank you to the team from WSR for an excellently organised event.  I promise to be in a better mood next time...

Chilly Hilly rebooted

The weather couldn't possibly be as biblical as last year could it?  The rain last January came down pretty much for the whole time we were running and, as we drove towards QECP this morning it looked as though we were on for a repeat performance.   It was a relief to get out of the car to find that the rain had eased off and there was barely a spit of rain while we were running.

But, oh my word, the conditions under foot were... interesting!  I knew it was going to be hilly (there's a clue in the name) and I knew, from our Wednesday evening runs in QECP, that it would be muddy, but this was mud on another level.  Slippery, slidey mud that had only 2 objectives; to try to steal your trainers and to make you look silly when you fell over!

As to my run... my snazzy Garmin has a 'performance condition indicator.'  This pops up in the first few minutes of an activity with a number that rates my current performance relative to my general fitness levels (or something like that).  Normally it varies between 0, when I feel rough, and +5.  Today the number that popped up was -9.   Minus 9!  Maybe the cold I had been suffering form all week had taken its toll.... Given that I was halfway up the first hill by then it made very little difference - I had to go on.

There were loads of marshals on the course - so lots of encouragement and warnings about taking care on the sharp bends.  Lots of banter amongst the runners, we all agreed that it felt a lot more challenging than last year.  Part of this was due to the paths being churned up by logging vehicles, in fact part of the course had to be rerouted due to logging activity.  This was nice because it meant we had an out and back - so more opportunities for banter!

Just after half way I confidently planted my foot on what looked like solid ground, only to have the ground vanish from under me!  I ended up sitting cross-legged in the mud - I think it  must have been quite a graceful tumble, but there was no one there to see!  I took it even easier after that, I just kept going with the thought of a steaming bowl of chilli keeping me going.

The chilli was great, as was the cup of tea I had with it.  This is a lovely race, with the added benefit of a raffle.  I'll be back for more next year, but will be hoping that we have dry weather!

(My Garmin also gives me a recovery time at the end of each run.  The longest I have seen so far is 48hrs after a marathon.  Today is told me I should wait 3.5 days before exercising again!  I think my cold may actually have been man 'flu!)

Best sign of the day!

Make a plan and then stick to it!

Today was my first visit to Hayling Island.  It is always slightly worrying not to be able to see anything at the other end of a bridge, and this was exactly what happened as I drove onto the bridge over to Hayling Island.  It wasn't even a long bridge - but all I could see in front of me was mist!  I hadn't thought too much about where this race was located when I booked it.  The guys at On the Whistle put on great events, and that is all I really need to know, this meant that I didn't realise that it was to be a trip to the seaside!  The run was on the Billy Line, consisting of out and backs, as many or as few as you fancied completing.

My training plan, aimed at the Paris marathon, required me to run 9 miles today, which would have been a smidge over 2 laps, so obviously a new plan was required.  I decided that I would run 9 miles and then adopt a run/walk strategy until I felt like giving up.  The tough thing was to stop running at 9 miles when I still felt as though I could go on for ever!  But I did.  I also managed to stay relatively on track with my run/walk breaks - they sometimes varied a bit when I stopped or slowed down to talk to another runner.  I think I finished in about 4hrs 30mins, maybe 4hrs 3mins - I was feeling so ropey that I was concentrating on staying upright rather than important things like stopping my Garmin!

The run itself was much tougher than I'd anticipated!  This was a very flat course, but also, due to the rain, very muddy.  We ran the first couple of laps with very limited visibility, the mist and/or rain ensured that we were pretty soggy pretty quickly, and the lack of obvious landmarks on the route made it somewhat soul destroying!  The fact that I was pleased to see a white fertiliser bag in a puddle is an indication of how desperate I was for familiar points to judge how far I had to go!  The visibility remained poor throughout the time I was running - I didn't get to see the sea!   Who'd of thought that I might actually welcome a couple of hills to break up the monotony?! And I decided very early on that a marathon distance would be enough for today.  The idea of setting out for a 7th lap made me want to weep!  During my 5th and 6th laps it was only the thought of McDonalds that kept me going.  I can only have McDs if I have run a full marathon, so I had to keep on going!

It was lovely to see old friends and speak to new people, but the weather was a huge negative today.  Not epically bad enough to inspire a blitz spirit, just a constant drizzle and limited visibility.  I can't fault the organisation, or the enthusiasm of the On The Whistle team - it isn't every race you go to where one of the organisers comes up to you with your own personal bag of Tangfastics -surely the crack cocaine of the sweetie world!   The medals and aid station were fabulous, the marshals friendly and enthusiastic, I just wasn't enjoying the rain! Still as a training run for Paris and London, it is all good! Hoping to get to my Treloar's Trust/London fundraising total before I run the race!

Doing the double.

My New Year's resolution is not to run while hungover or drunk in 2017.  There is a subsidiary resolution, that might not be practical, and that is that I will not enter races while under the influence of alcohol.  Not sure how long these resolutions will last, but so far at 7.10pm on 1st January everything is going well!  I've do two parkruns without even a wiff of a hangover.  

I did have tired legs.... legs that were so tired (after yesterday's Gutbuster 10miles) that I was really quite happy with our decision to stay in, plans for an early night were scuppered by teenage children phoning to say 'Happy New Year' and 'Can you send me some cash?' at midnight!   

Husbando and I had been plotting which two parkruns we'd run.  At first we thought Basingstoke and Alice Holt, but Basingstoke quite often start a little after 9am, which meant that we could be cutting it fine to get to Alice Holt, so we decided to go to Rushmoor instead.  As we drove over I complained that we wouldn't know anyone, only to park our car, walk to the start and bump into a parkrun friend from Abingdon who I hadn't seen for ages.  He was there with a group from Abingdon and Didcot who were planning to go on to Frimley Lodge, but we persuaded them to come with us instead!  

So, to the running part of parkrun.... my legs felt heavy, and I couldn't be bothered to warm up as I had no great expectations, Husbando and I were aiming to 'just get round.'  Turned out that my tired legs wanted to move a bit faster than I'd anticipated.  Husbando and I jogged around chatting away until I realised that I was on for a PB - which happened as we got to the finish straight - I was thrilled to go home with a 45second PB!  

Then it was into the car and off to Alice Holt.  Whereas Rushmoor is flat and fast, Alice Holt most definitely is not!  We arrived in plenty of time, which was lovely as it meant we got to see loads of people I hadn't expected to see.  There was a huge contingent from Basingstoke and more from Guildford, including my ex head of department - who I hadn't seen for ages.   Alice Holt is a lovely run, but it is not one that you can do quickly on tired legs, so I was happy to plod around.

parkrun is really all about the people, the volunteers, the other runners - the whole community aspect is why parkrun is so successful, so it was wonderful to sit in the cafe drinking coffee, eating bacon rolls and chatting with friends.  I'm looking forward to many more in 2017!  

I hope you all have a fantastic 2017 and that I'll see some of you in parkrun land soon.  In the meantime, if anyone fees like sponsoring me for the London Marathon, which I am running for a local charity, Treloars, please click on THIS LINK! 

The last race of 2016

Me:  Fancy a race on New Year's Eve?

Husbando: Where?

Me: Er, dunno, can't be far away 'cos a bunch of the Basingstoke guys are doing it.

Husbando:  Let me think about it.

Me: Great - I've signed us both up...

Husbando: Sigh.....

So that is how I came to be sitting on a bus, with a red wine and curry hangover, en route from a park and ride to Butler's Land Farm near Reading to take part in The Gutbuster.   In my defence I hadn't planned to have a hangover.  I didn't think I'd had that much to drink, I certainly wasn't steaming drunk, or even properly tipsy, so the hangover was both unexpected and unwelcome.  A bit of a headache is no reason not to run, especially when you have paid about £30 for the 'pleasure!' 

There is no parking at the start of the race, hence the coach journey to the farm, where the race HQ was located in a farm shed.  Numbers were collected, timing chips attached to shoes, removal of outer layers of clothing was contemplated and delayed for as long as possible, port-a-loos were visited, all accompanied by the smell of bacon being fried.  I quite fancied the idea of a bacon sandwich - but decided that waiting to the end of the race would be a good idea as my stomach was somewhat delicate!

After the run briefing, during which I wondered why I had thought the 10 mile option was better than the 10k option we were off.  The first section was very muddy - I dread to think what it was like by the time the 10k race got to start - and we bimbled along as a group of about 8 or 9 of us.  But we soon got separated.  I was running with Husbando, all was Ok initially - we clocked a 7.40min/mile for the second mile - and then my right quad started to hurt.  It had given me a bit of trouble earlier in the week, so I decided to take it easy and let Husbando go on.  There was no point in pushing myself too hard.  

The route was mainly on trail, the famed ford had run dry meaning that we didn't have soaking wet feet too early in the race, but the mud was claggy.  It stuck to everything, at times it felt like running on an ice rink with heavy weights (mud) attached to my feet.  It was demoralising - it felt like I was putting in an awful lot of effort for very little return.  The course was well marshalled, signposted and followed an interesting slightly undulating route, with supporters dotted along the route cheering us on.   I wasn't feeling the love though, my head hurt and I was on my own.  Yes, I was chatting a bit with people as I passed them or they passed me, but I knew that there was a big group of my friends behind me who were no doubt having a ball and encouraging each other and that Husbando was too far ahead for me to catch.  I thought about stopping to wait for the others, but didn't know how long I'd have to wait and didn't want to get too cold, so I plodded on.  

The first 5 miles seemed really long, I was beginning to lose the will to live and thought about calling it quits, but didn't, miles 5 to 8 went by a bit faster (in my mind if not in reality) but the last 2 miles were incredibly tough.  Zig-zagging through muddy fields, being able to hear the finish and not see it, then see the finish but know that there was a fair bit of zigging and zagging still to do.  My watch beeped to tell me I had run 10 miles, but I still wasn't at the finish - I estimated about 400m still to do, and not a lot of time if I wanted to get home in under 1hr 40mins.  I put on a burst of 'speed' turned a corner through a gate and ran up a muddy, slippery, hill (overtaking a few people on the way) to throw myself over the finish line in 1hr 39minutes.  I think it is possibly the toughest race finish I have ever encountered.  

Husbando was waiting by the finish - he only beat me by about 8 minutes, and whisked me away to pick up bags and get the bus back to our car before I could remember that we'd been promised mince pies and mulled wine at the finish!  

So, that's 2016 done.  10 marathons completed, not bad for someone who was going to quite running marathons at the end of 2015, and 1800 miles run in total, not many PBs, but lots of fun.  Looking forward to more of the same next year.  

Rocky Pub 2 Pub Race

A few days ago a friend posted on Facebook about a race being run by Portsmouth Joggers' Club.  It was cheap to enter and in aid of a good cause - the Rocky Appeal, so I shouted upstairs to Husbando and asked if he fancied a 7.5 mile road run.  He shouted down to ask when, I shouted back to say 27th at 11am, he shouted down to say where, I repied Horndean, he shouted back again where!  At this point one of the children told us to embrace the 21st century and just text each other like normal people as we were disturbing their TV watching/PS 4 marathon.....

That's how we ended up in Horndean on a frosty December morning.  We were very glad to find that the race HQ was in a toasty warm village hall and not in a draughty tent. we grabbed a cup of tea and some biscuits and bought some raffle tickets while we waited, avoiding going out in the cold for as long as possible.  But out into the cold we had to go, at least by 11am it had warmed up a little.  It was a beautifully sunny and clear day, which meant that there was nothing to obscure the view of the hill that marked the start of the race.

I'd been told, by someone who had not run the race, that it was uphill all the way out and downhill all the way back.   This was somewhat reassuring as we slogged up the hill that made up the first mile of the race away from The Ship and Bell.  Husbando and I had thought that we might run together, but my right quad was so tight that I knew I would not be having the best of runs, I didn't want to slow him down so about half a mile in I told him to go on and watched him vanish up the hill.  The outward leg was predominantly uphill, but not entirely, and there is no fun in running down hill when you know that very soon you are going to have to run back up it!

Before the start of the downhill section I fell into pace with a bloke and we ran together for quiet a way, just before the 3 mile point we saw the first of the fast runners coming back, so we shouted encouragement and greeted people we knew by name.  Husbando came along and looked to be running well.  I told him to make sure he had a cup of tea waiting when I finished.   The turn around point was at the second pub, The Red Lion in Chalton.  The pub missed a trick by being closed when we arrived, I would have stopped for a quick G&T, so we had to make do with a quick chat with the ladies on the water station, and a cup of water before heading off for the return leg.

The weather was lovely, the views were pretty, but the hills were a wee bit brutal.  I told the man I was running with (I think his name was Andy) that when we got to the steep hill I was going to run/walk it.  I knew the hill was about half a mile long, and that while I could run it, it wouldn't be pretty and I would take ages to recover.  So I ran 50 paces and walked 40 all the way to the top.  When I got to the 'top' it carried on going up - I hadn't noticed that this section was downhill on the way out!  Thank heavens for the encouraging marshals - there were plenty of them to encourage us along and make sure we didn't go the wrong way.

The last mile was, obviously, downhill.  And I managed to pull of a fairly good impression of someone who is able to run as I approached the finish.  Husbando was waiting with his camera, having finished hours earlier.  No bling for this race, but a couple of freebies - chewy vitamin pills and a coffee drink.

After getting my breath back we took a seat in the village hall to wait for the raffle to be drawn.  Husbando got me a cup of tea (he is well trained) and we chatted with other runners.  We made out like bandits in the raffle.  We handed back 3 prizes but still had quite a haul to carry home with us!

Thank you to Portsmouth Joggers for putting on this fun race for the 32nd time!  Hope that you raised loads of money.  

Bovington marathon

Signing up for a marathon in December seems such a good idea in June or July.  The weather is sunny (ish) and dry (ish) and it seems incomprehensible that you could ever need long running tights and gloves while running.  But I had signed up for yet another marathon.   This latest offering from White Star Running was a bit different, the location was on and around the tank ranges at Bovington with a medal that celebrates the 100th anniversary of the tank.

Last Sunday was freezing cold, and I was beginning to panic about a long, cold marathon, yesterday was mild but it rained all day and I began to worry about over 5 hours of running in the rain.  I was not filled with joy at the thought of leaving the house at 6am to drive down to the Tank Museum at Bovington - I was hugely grateful to be given a lift so all I had to do was relax and enjoy the ride, in the fog.

We arrived in good time, even after a McDonald's stop for coffee and loos, we parked the car within about 20 metres of the start, and went to use the loos in the restaurant of the Tank Museum (which looks awesome and well worth a visit) before returning to the start for the race briefing.   There can't be many race briefings where you are told, 'If you see something that looks like a grenade don't pick it up because there is a good chance it is a grenade!'

A little bit of mud to squelch through

And then we were off.  I decided to run with the guys I'd travelled down with.  This running races with another person is quite a novelty for me and I have to say that the miles fairly flew by!  The first few were flat and not too wet - just one river to wade through - or avoid by queuing to go over the rickety bridge.  After that it got a bit bumpy, nothing too steep (although some of the downhills were a little precarious) with all sorts of different surfaces under foot from concrete (not much of this at all) through woodland floors deep in in pine needles and fallen leaves to mud.  Lots of mud.  And puddles.  We christened one area the Lake District as the puddles were so huge and numerous.  We were having lots of fun.  The aid stations were well positioned but, with the notable exception of the Lovestation (more on that later) I didn't think they were quite up to the usual White Star Running standard.  At about 16 miles (I think) we ran down a hill, each of us commenting that we were feeling a bit peckish.  Our spirits listed when we saw an aid station... and mine fell again when I realised that the only food had nuts in.    This was when I regretted my decision not to carry any snacks with me.

The right stuff?

At some point someone had moved one of the signs, which resulted in us taking a little detour.  This meant that we got to meet a load of the half marathon runners who told us we were on the wrong track so we retraced our steps and found the correct route. We ran past Monkey World - and saw monkeys playing on their climbing frame.  They weren't impressed with us disturbing their peaceful morning and shouted us.  We responded by a rousing chorus of 'King of the swingers!'

At 20 miles crossed a road and I heard my name being called out and looked up to see a friend with his camera!  He also had Haribos - what a legend!  20 miles in a WSR event means that you are at the Lovestation - plenty of food, drink and banter, I was famished - I stuffed my face and grabbed a handful of pretzels to take with me and we set off for the last 6 and a bit miles.

Quite a bit of this last section was the same as the bit of the first few miles, but in reverse.  It took in the deep river we'd crossed.  I decided that, as my feet were still fairly dry, I'd take the rickety bridge. It was considerably more rickety and my 2 running partners opted to run through the middle of the water.  They told me that it was 'refreshing' and 'just what they needed' to wash the mud out of their shoes.  I was not convinced.  And I soon discovered that they were fibbing!  We had 4 (or was it 5 or 6) more river crossings - and these did not have bridges.  The water was really cold and deep!

Our conservative pace meant that we were still trotting along really happily, overtaking lots of people who were beginning to flag, and we still felt strong.  Based on prior knowledge of the 'ish' nature of the length of a WSR marathon we got to 25 miles and were debating how much further we might have to run.  We saw the '400m to go' sign (which has a history of being fairly randomly placed in the last mile of a race) and still did not really think that we could be near the end, as that would make it a marathon length marathon!  But, along the path we went, crossed a road and there was the Tank Museum and the finish flags.  It really was the finish line!

Bling-tastic!

We crossed the line together - passing two lovely tanks, to be presented with our fabulous medals and goodie bags (great new buff and a bottle of beer) and to have celebratory photos taken!    An utterly fabulous day out - fun and smiles all the way!

Thank you guys for the company (and the lift). https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/MrsBridgewater1

I'm finally going to be a proper runner!

Yes, it is true.  After years of faffing around and running all those marathons that aren't 'proper marathons' I am actually going to run the only marathon that seems to count in the minds of the vast majority of the population... London!

After 7 (or is it 8?) consecutive years of entering the ballot in the spring and getting the 'Sorry' magazine in October I had resigned myself to waiting another year, and anyway I had already booked Paris on the assumption I wouldn't get a place.  When I got my first London rejection, way back when I started running, I thought I'd look into running for a charity, but the fundraising total seemed eyewateringly high, so I discounted it as a viable way to get to run.  I thought about getting a GFA (good for age) time, but let's face it my times aren't good for any age.

And then, this year, there was a glimmer of hope... My running club had 2 places for the club ballot and, as a one off, a draw was to be held for 2 people, who were prepared to find a charity place, to benefit from a sizeable fundraising pledge so that worrying about raising a huge some of money is reduced.  I did a little mental maths.  We have just over 100 members in the club, not all of them would want to enter the ballot for one of the 4 places.  This was my best chance every to get to London!

Time passed.  I got wrapped up in work - the end of term is alway stressful (and I have just remembered another admin task that I should be doing right now rather than typing this...).  Then, on Monday, while year 8 were doing an end of topic test on 'Atoms and Elements' I sneakily checked my email on my 'phone.... An email to say that I had won a charity pledge!  I smiled so much that one of the boys asked if I was OK!  All I had to do now was secure a charity place.

I thought this would be easy.... after all, when you get the 'Sorry' magazine it is stuffed full of charities begging you to sign up to raise a squillion pounds for them.  I checked the website.  Charity after charity said that all their places had gone.  I was beginning to panic.  Then I decided to think local - there is a wonderful school for physically disabled children just up the road... I wondered if they had any places, so sent them an email.  This was 9pm in the evening, so obviously I was going to have to wait for a reply.  

I didn't have to wait long.  During period 2, while my year 11s were working on their BTEC assignments, I noticed that I'd forgotten to turn the emails off on my 'phone (I normally don't get my email on my 'phone because it is annoying!) and decided that it wouldn't hurt to just flick through and see if there was anything interesting.  I actually did a little dance when I saw the email confirming that they had a place for me.  My yr11 are lovely and used to my eccentricities by now - but they do struggle to understand that anyone could be excited about the idea of running 26.2 miles!

So now the hard work begins!  I still have a sizeable chunk of money to raise and I will be running 2 big city marathons 2 weeks apart.  I'm not sure if I should look on London as an enjoyable recovery run after Paris, or regard Paris as my last long run before London.  Running London seems far more overwhelming than Paris, even though there are fewer runners.  It is going to be harder to get to the start line given the useless transport links on a Sunday morning.  I guess I am going to have to start thinking about logistics pretty soon.

Huge thanks to Fetcheveryone Running Club and Treloar's for making my dream come true.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/MrsBridgewater1

On accidental first marathons and irresponsible dog owners.

Okay, so who was taking bets on me falling over during today's race?  Who had a side bet that it would happen within the first mile and involve man's best friend?  If you had money on this you'd have made out like a bandit today!  We were pootling along at a nice easy pace, a lady I know was about 20' ahead of us and I heard her say a cheery 'good morning' to a walker with a dog on a lead.  We didn't hear a reply.  As we approached I said 'good morning' and Husbando that there were about 100 runners coming along.  No reply, we thought nothing of it and ran on around a corner, Husbando a few paces behind me.  Next thing I know the dog is running around my ankles - he'd been let off his lead.  I had two choices, stop quickly or drop kick the dog over the hedge and into the field.  I chose to stop quickly and in doing so ended up twisting my knee and falling over.  I thought that this was end-ex for me - it was that stabbing, sick making pain that could be really nasty.  Lots of runners stopped to see how I was as I stood, crying and swearing, by the side of the path.  The dog owner walked off without a backward glance.

I walked a while, then tried a gentle jog, it actually hurt slightly less to run than to walk, so I knew I would make it to the end of the first lap, but decided that a marathon was out of the question.  I was greatly cheered when I spotted a fire engine, and firemen!  I finished the first lap, swearing all the way and casting aspersions about the size of the dog walker's genitalia (which seemed to amuse a fellow runner and blogger from irunoffroad greatly!) and ate a handful of painkillers when I got to the aid station.  The painkillers, along with industrial quantities of sweets, seemed to do the trick and I set off for an experimental second lap.  Husbando was brilliant, staying with me rather than running on, we settled into a steady pace, where we could chat quite happily.  We passed the dog owner again, I called him a rude name under my breath and felt a bit better.  Later on lap 2 we ran into the firemen again - and they blew their horn at me!  Husbando made smutty comments about hoses and horns - he obviously wasn't working hard enough!

We decided that 3 laps (about 14 miles) would be enough.  Husbando had run 16.4 miles at Timelord on the Thames on Wednesday, my knee was hurting, 14 miles is a respectable distance for a Sunday.  But, we got to the aid station and start finish area, changed shoes (and in Husbando's case applied Compeed blister plasters) and thought, 'What the heck, let's do one more!'  After you've faffed at the aid station for a few minutes, eaten sugar laden treats, drunk full fat coke and when you know that the first few hundred metres are downhill it is very easy to go on.  And boy did we faff at the aid stations!  Husbando stopped his Garmin whenever we were stuffing our faces, I left mine running - over the course of the race we spent 30 minutes not running!  This is testament to the friendliness of the race organisers, the support of other runners (Husbando is very grateful for the Compeed) and my greediness when faced with a box of Haribos!

At the end of lap 3 we didn't ring the bell, we'd decided to see how we felt after a wee rest.  On the 4th lap we pretty much decided that we were going to run 6 laps (28 miles).  This would be Husbando's first marathon.  He hadn't even begun his marathon training programme, and I hadn't run a marathon since September.  We really were not respecting the distance!  Towards the end of lap 5 I heard words that I never thought I'd hear 'I'm struggling to keep up with you!' I switched us to a 9min run/1 min walk strategy, although I blatantly ignored it if we were on a downhill when we should be walking!  We hit 26.2 miles in 4hrs 43 (or 4hrs 20 actual moving time) and celebrated with a hug and a 2 minute walk break before resuming our plod to the finish.

The course was gently undulating, running around Staunton Country Park in Havant - only 1,500' of elevation over the entire marathon, but the little hill at the end of each lap got steeper and steeper!  We had walked up it on lap 5, but ran it on the last lap - just to show the hill who was boss!

We rang the bell and collected our medals and hugs from the race director.  My knee had got to the stage where it hurt so much it no longer hurt... well - that's what I was telling myself as we hobbled back to the car!  Husbando had just run his first marathon and I am very proud of him!  It is the first time I have run an entire race with someone else - and we didn't kill each other!

Huge thanks to the organisers and the support of all the runners today.  If you haven't done an On The Whistle event BOOK ONE NOW - you'll have to be quick though as they sell out quickly!

250th parkrun

I heard about parkrun over 6 years ago, but didn't consider going along for at least 6 months because, although I'd been running for a couple of years, I did not consider myself to be 'a runner!'  I didn't want to be the slow one, plodding around at the back with everyone else tapping their feet as they waited for me to finish.  I can't remember what happened to make me change my mind but, on 21st May 2011, I took the plunge and found myself, barcode in hand, in War Memorial Park with a load of strangers.  This was A BIG STEP for me.  I am quite uncomfortable in situations that are new and that involve lots of people I don't know.  I need not have worried.  Everyone was very friendly and I wasn't last.  It was the first time I had ever run a timed 5k and I surprised myself by being able to finish in just under 25 minutes.  I ran, got my barcode scanned and drove home.

But I came back the next week and did it again.  By July, I was turning up almost every Saturday and had probably turned into something of a parkrun bore, telling everyone I could about this amazing parkrun thing.  I volunteered a few times, which was good as it meant that I got to know some of the other regulars - this meant I had enough confidence to brave going along for the post run coffee.  This involved meeting more and more parkrunners, and hearing about (and subsequently entering) lots of races I would not have even have heard of without parkrun.  

It is quite amazing how quickly parkrun became such a integral part of my life, and how many of my friends seem to have decided that it is easier to go to parkrun than to listen to me extol its virtues!  I've visited 51 different parkruns, mainly because they were near where I happened to be on a Saturday morning, and made loads of new friends.  Obviously I've missed a few Saturdays when I've been involved in Saturday races, have had to work on Saturday or been injured, and several runs have been given up in exchange for volunteering at parkrun, but in the main, if it was 9am on a Saturday, I was to be found in a park getting ready for a 5k!

Which brings me to this morning.  Although my 'home run' is Basingstoke, Husbando struggles to get to that venue as he has to work on Saturday. Alice Holt he can do and make it to work afterwards.  Alice Holt also has a lovely large gazebo for setting out cakes, a cafe and nice loos, and I was involved (a little bit!) in setting it up four years ago - so I decided that it would be the venue for my 250th parkrun.  I set up an 'event' on Facebook and sent out some invitations, thinking that a few people might be interested in coming along, especially if I bribed them with cake and fizz!  A friend I'd met via parkrun sent me a message saying that he was coming along and coincidently running his 100th parkrun - so double the celebration!  I stayed up late baking and icing cakes and arrived at Alice Holt fairly early.  As I laid out the cakes I saw a constant stream of familiar faces emerging from the mist - people I hadn't seen for ages and ages and who had travelled for miles and miles just to run 5k with me!  Some people hadn't even come to run - they'd just got out of bed early on a very chilly Saturday morning to come and watch the rest of us run!

Having run 249 parkruns without ever having forgotten a barcode, my 250th nearly had to be delayed - I realised that my barcodes were not in my pocket (I keep all 7 on a treasury tag and they have vanished).  Panic stations ensued!  Could I get home and back and still run?  Could I ask Husbando to give up his run and go home and print out spares?  Would he know how to do that without a tutorial?  Then I remembered that I am a parkrunner, and a parkrunner always has spare barcodes somewhere in every car.  Crisis averted with a mad dash to the car and a rummage round to find a tatty ziplock bag which had the required barcodes.

After setting a new Alice Holt PB last week, and with a 6 hour challenge tomorrow, I knew that I wasn't going to set any records today.  And I wanted to enjoy my run, not end up gasping for every drop of oxygen I could find at the end of the run.  Husbando and I had a nice, chatty run.  It felt so much easier than last week, but I was 44 seconds slower.  

It was wonderful to chat to so many people afterwards, I am really touched that so many people came to help me celebrate.  I really do love my parkrun family.  Huge thanks to PSH, whose love child parkrun is, to all the event directors, run directors and volunteers who make the many, many parkruns across the globe happen every week.  I'll see you in a park (somewhere) next parkrun day!  

P.S.  Is it wrong that I am wondering if the second 250 parkruns will take more or less time to achieve than the first? 

Feeling our age!

Husbando and I went for a run this evening.  Nothing unusual in that, I hear you say, but bear with me.

This morning Husbando went to a local sports shop to spend a voucher he'd been given for his birthday, while he was there he found out that the shop was having a 'try on evening' for Hoka trail shoes and Silva head torches.  They were planning a trail run in a local wood that I've wanted to explore for some time now - so it was a no brainer really.

We pitched up at the shop and got ourselves kitted out.  Husbando had brand new Hoka's that he got this morning, and I had a pair already, so really we were just road (trail?) testing the head torches and getting to try out a new route.  It was evident that we were, er, quite a bit older than any of the other runners!  Husbando's sweat shirt was older than any of the other runners!  And at 31 years old I think that the sweat shirt had at least 5 years on most of them.

Once kitted up off we set in the rain.  About a kilometre on the road and then into the woods.   It was very muddy.  I do like a muddy run (but please don't tell anyone that) but I like to take it steady and this was not an option.  The pace was much faster than I would normally attempt in the dark on a trail.  We averaged 9.14min/mile including stopping to regroup, cross roads etc. etc. And it was tough - I didn't love the Silva head torch, it was very light weight but it wasn't as bright as my current torch.  I couldn't help thinking that if one of these youngsters fell we'd be talking green stick fracture whereas if Husbando or I fell we'd probably need an air ambulance and months of rehab!   There was no chatting this evening - just concentrating on keeping up and keeping upright and we really felt as though we'd worked hard when we got back onto the road.  What was interesting was that, back on the road Husbando and I automatically picked up the pace overtaking much of the rest of the group.

We enjoyed our run, it is good to do something different from time to time, and trail running at this pace is different enough for me,  but I think I'll be back on the slopes of Queen Elizabeth Country Park next Wednesday - I like to be able to chat while running!