What a difference a year makes….

I have a goal this year.  I want to run a sub four hour marathon.  I've worked hard, lost weight and run 20 miles in a time that indicates I am capable of achieving this ambition.  I ran a PB at Paris last year  and really enjoyed my race, so had psyched myself up for a repeat performance this time.  

The trip started well, I arrived at St Pancras and discovered that I could upgrade my seat for very little money.  Arriving in Paris I went straight to the Expo to collect my race number and try, unsuccessfully, to avoid the temptation of so many pretty, shiny running related goodies!  I bought a pair of compression tights, some t-shirts, a fridge magnet, some no tie shoe laces and a cap.  I went past the stand giving out free Haribos several times... 

From there, I went to my friend's house in Saint Gratien.  I had persuaded my old university friend that he should run a  marathon and this was to be his first marathon.  I kept thinking that this was a much better marathon to do as a first one than my first marathon in Abingdon.  The atmosphere and the crowds would be much more exciting!  We hadn't seen each other for a while so there was a fair amount of catching up and chatting to be done.  

On Friday I went sight seeing!  I love Paris - but dispute the self proclaimed tag of 'the most beautiful city in the World.'  It does have many stunningly beautiful sights, but it is also pretty grubby, with ankle twistingly uneven pavements littered with doggy land mines!  I try to see one new 'thing' every time I visit, so after a trip to Shakespeare and Company and an excellent steak frites sitting outside I went to visit the Musée Carnavalet.  A lovely museum, located near Notre Dame, that details the history of Paris.  Unlike the better known museums it was virtually deserted.  I spent a couple of hours wandering around trying to decipher the French labels!  

Saturday morning meant that it was time for the Paris Breakfast Run.   A 5km run from Ave Foch to the Eiffel Tower with coffee and croissant at the finish.  I had thought about running the new Bois de Boulogne parkrun  but decided to leave that for another trip.  The weather for this run was perfect, overcast and cool.  I crossed my fingers that the weather forecasts were wrong and that the weather would stay the same for Sunday.  I ran with my friend, a nice gentle leg stretch with a bit of a sprint at the end.  I ran and took photos and chatted to marathon buddies and strangers.  Great fun!  

Then it was back to Saint Gratien to take it easy for the rest of the day, a trip to the supermarket to stock up on Haribos - you can't buy a Happy Box in England and every home should have a Happy Box!  Dinner that evening was not what I would have chosen - but that is part and parcel of staying with friends.  Let's just say, I don't usually eat cauliflower and chickpea curry and avoid spicy food the day before long runs!  I slept badly, woke up with a burbly tummy about an hour before my 6am alarm went off and lay looking at the ceiling visualising how I would feel finishing the marathon.  I got up and got dressed - leaving the house as quietly as possible.  My friend's start time was an hour later than mine, so there was no point in him coming in with me.  

Security was much more in evidence than last year.  Hardly surprising in light of recent events!  I went through the security, queued for the loo, discovered that buffs serve as excellent face masks to mask some of the odour of a portaloo, came out of the portaloo, took one look at the queue and rejoined it!  Just in time logistics.  In this second visit to the loo I realised too late that the pocket in my running shorts was not closed - as my Shot Blocks fell into the toilet bowl.  Not good.  But not a lot I could do about that really!

I went to the starting pen and managed to find a group of people speaking English.  This group included an American lady who kept telling me that this would be easy as she 'did Ironman,' that this was 'just a walk in the park' and wasn't going to be an 11 hour day so what was there to worry about.  I wanted to get away.   The Champs Elysées is an excellent place to start a race.  Long enough, and wide enough for us all to start from the same point (unlike London).   As soon as we were off I reminded myself that the start was slightly downhill and that I had to make sure I didn't go off to fast,  I didn't.  I felt fantastic.  I was going to bloody do this!   At about 2.5 miles I saw a sea of blue and yellow on the right hand side - it was the Hatch Warren Running Club support crew.  I was on the other side of the road, so I veered across shouting 'Hello Hatchies!' and was met with a roar of support.  

On we went to the Place de la Bastille, more cobbles and the first water/food station.  In light of my dodgy tummy and the fact that I'd lost my Shot Blocks I decided to eat whatever I could grab (bananas and raisins) and to grab some water to replenish my water bottle.  I noticed a pain in the balls of both my feet at around 5 miles - but decided that there was little I could do about it, my laces were not too tight - I had no idea what was causing it, but apart from the occasional really "ouchy" moment it was manageable.  I had 2 pace bands with me, one for 3.49 and one for 3.59.  I was hitting the times for the faster band with about 30-45 seconds to spare, but I felt really strong at this point.  I passed a runner in a Macmillan cancer top soon after this - he recognised my KRR top and called out to me.  We ran together and chatted for several miles, his pace was slightly slower than mine, and I was conscious that was itching to go faster - so we parted company.  

I hit the halfway point on target for 3.48 and still felt good.  I was going to get my sub 4, I was sure of it!  And then we got to about 14 miles and the heat and my stomach got the better of me.  I had a loo stop.  The sun was full on now and there was very little shade.  The sapeurs pompiers were out with their hoses to spray us down, but the relief was fleeting.  Now everything that I had enjoyed about he marathon last year seemed to irritate me this year.  The crowds encroached onto the road, in the absence of any barriers and very few marshals there were several points where the course narrowed dramatically - at times you could not get more than three 'runners' running at the same time - and this meant slowing to a walk.  The water stations were like running through fruit salad - avoiding slipping on banana skins, avoiding colliding with other runners as everything was on one side of the road.  

Did I mention it was hot?  It was very hot.  I was aware that my pace was slipping and I chewed through the 3.49 pace band so I could discard it, why aren't pace bands edible?  That way you could have a consoling snack when it all goes tits up!  I needed another loo stop.  This was not good. 

At around 16 miles the race goes underground.  A long underpass that had some sort of essential oil aromas wafting through it in an attempt to mitigate the stench of pee.  The lack of satellite reception meant that I couldn't really rely on my Garmin for accurate information.  This wouldn't have been an issue if there had been mile markers every mile - but they were intermittent.  I plodded on.  Coming out of another underpass (shorter this time) I was losing the will to live when I heard a cry of 'There she is!' and somehow knew that the shout was for me.  I turned and saw the Hatchies again.  It was just the lift I needed at that point.  

On I went, it felt hotter than ever.  At 30km there was a 'wall.'  Hoarding on either side of the road with bricks painted on it.  It said '30k wall' on one side and '20mile wall' on the other side.  I run in miles not km, I had lost satellite reception for long enough not to know how accurate my Garmin distance was, and here was a sign saying I'd run 20 miles!  Yay!  Only 6 and a bit to go!  And then about half a mile later there was the 19mile marker at the side of the road.  Despondent does not come close to describing how I felt about being 'robbed' of over a mile.  I know that if I had thought about it I'd have realised that 30km isn't 20 miles - but maths while running isn't my strong point. 

On we went, eventually getting to the Bois du Boulogne.  In my memory this was close to the end - but in reality you spend miles and miles in the Bois.  And the spectators are few and far between.  I'd kissed goodbye to sub 4 hours now too and was feeling very sorry for myself.  Then I realised how many ambulances I'd seen, how many people were being looked after by the Red Cross, and thought that at least I was still upright and moving forward.  I overtook one of the 3.45hr pacers at some point in this long, soulless stretch of running - so I wasn't the only person having a bad day!  At around 40km I felt a tap on my shoulder.  It was the Ironman running American lady from the start pen.  I decided that she would not be finishing in front of me, so concentrated on running rather than shuffling for the last couple of kilometres (more cobbles, and did I mention it was hot?)  

Finally there were supporters again!  I was nearly there!  Back on the Ave Foch with only 195m to go - I picked up the pace, desperate to get this purgatory over with.  I crossed to line and smashed into the back of another runner who had come to a dead stop the minute he stepped over the finish mat!   I got my medal, retrieved my bag, texted Husbando, misread a text from him (I thought that he had come over to surprise me and my heart sank when I realised that I had totally misunderstood what he was saying).  I walked along sobbing.  I was so disappointed with my time (4hrs 6mins).  It felt as though I had thrown away a perfectly good chance at a PB.  

I retreated to a friend's hotel room for a shower and a sob, and a chance to update Facebook!  I found a silver lining - I'd caught the sun, so have made a start on my summer tan, but that was about the only positive I could find.  After showering I felt a little better - cooler anyway, and struggled into my new compression tights which I topped with the lurid green finisher top.  I was glad that I'd remembered to bring my FitFlops with me as I wasn't sure my feet would fit back inside my trainers! The Hatch Warren supporters were close to l'Arc de Triomphe and I bumped into them on my way back to the race village, I thanked them for their support, had a hug and burst into tears again!  Then, having had a look at the marathon tracker app, I thought it might be possible to get to the bottom of the Ave Foch to see if I could see any of my friends finishing, so set out and walked almost to the end of the avenue before I realised that I wasn't going to be able to battle my way through the crowds to get close to the front, and that I'd probably missed most of them anyway!   

I trudged back up Ave Foch and decided that I was really rather peckish!  I found somewhere to eat, and texted my friend to tell him where I was.  Another steak frites with a large beer was called for!  It was very good.  I chatted with other marathoners while I waited.  One bloke, who thought he recognised me (and may well do as he belongs to a Reading based running club) had missed his target massively.  When his mum asked him what went wrong, he said it was more a case of, 'What didn't go wrong?'  And that seemed to be a theme; lots of people not doing as well as they'd hoped.

I was halfway through my meal when I spotted my friend approaching the restaurant.  I jumped out of my seat and ran, yes, I really did run - surprised myself too, towards him, nearly knocking him over as I gave him a hug!  Then I bought him a beer, shared my Café Gourmand with him and talked about his first marathon.

Two days later, back at home, and with a couple of recovery runs under my belt, I am still disappointed.  It gives me some hope that lots of runners were 25-30 mins adrift from their target times, but I worked really hard in the build up to this race, and felt that I had a really good chance of achieving my objective.  Ah well, there are other races!  On a positive note I have now run 10 marathons (OK, 8 marathons and 2 ultras!) so I reckon I have the marathon bug!

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!

Another day, another race!

A couple of months ago I called to Husbando from my office 'Name your top 5 1980's films!'  Of course 'The Breakfast Club' was one of those mentioned.  It seems incredible that it was released, in America, 31 years ago today.  To celebrate the lovely people at Phoenix Running planned a themed race - Husbando and I were keen to sign up, but there was a problem.  Number 1 son has been away in Canada for 5 weeks and today was the day he was due back and it seemed churlish to make him negotiate trains and buses to get home.  We had a think, and a plot, and came up with a plan.  The Breakfast Race was a 6 hour timed event consisting of 3.25 mile out and back laps.  In order to 'finish' this race one need only complete one lap.  So the plan was that Husbando would drop me at the start, drive down to Heathrow, pick up our son and then pick me up.  I would run until I saw them at the start/finish area or until I dropped.

The race HQ took up residence inside The Weir Hotel - very sensible given how chilly it was out this morning.  Lots of tea and coffee was drunk, and it was nice to catch up with a running friend I haven't seen for a while.  Lots of people there had run 3 marathons in the last 3 days and were planning to complete another marathon today.  I felt quite wimpy only having run 20 miles the day before!  After a brief pre-race brief (basically - if you can't see the river you are lost, find the river again and then carry on!) we were off.  My legs were not happy about being made to move at more than a staggering pace!  There was a lot of mud on the first part of the course - it got worse every time we passed that section as more feet churned it up.  With the river on my right, the sun shining brightly and the wind behind me it was quite pleasant.  We ran under Walton Bridge - a very attractive bridge and on to the turn around point, coming back we had the wind in our faces - this was not so pleasant, but it was great to see other runners - lots of people I haven't been in touch with since I came off Facebook who I realise I miss quite a bit!  I tried to explain that I wouldn't be there for long due to the 'airport thing!' I regret that I couldn't chat more.  

While I was resigned to the fact I might only get one lap done, I really wanted to run at least two, so I tried to run quite fast.  It certainly felt fast, but it wasn't really.  At the end of the first lap there was no sign of Husbando and the prodigal son, so I set off again.  This time the lorry that had virtually blocked the path by The Swan pub had gone, to be replaced by a man feeding loads of swans - they hissed at me (the swans, not the man!) as I passed.  Like dogs, swans seem to know I am nervous around them!  Coming back felt much harder this time.  I'd already seen the sights 3 time, the wind was stronger and my legs were so tired.  I told myself that if I had to do another lap I'd run out and walk back.  The beauty of a 6 hour challenge event is that you can pretty much do what you want within that time limit! I suspect, had the flight been delayed, I'd have stopped for a quick lunch at a pub along the way before carrying on!  

I was thrilled to see Husbando and child at the end of my second lap - and not only because it meant I could stop running!   I'd been running for 58 minutes - more than enough after yesterday in my book and was rewarded with a big hug from my boy and a huge medal from the race director (which reels that spin!)

I can't run Phoenix Running events on a regular basis, as they are often on weekdays.  This was my first run with them.  I wish I could have stayed for longer (a marathon is still a marathon however long it takes), and I will certainly be back again.  Well organised, small and friendly events are such a treat to take part in!  

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.

Rubix Chilly Hilly - first race of the year.

 When I ran this route at the end of last year, in the dark and the rain, I distinctly remember ordering some dry weather.  What we got instead was almost constant rain for the whole of January.  And this morning was rainy too - so I looked out my rainy weather running gear, i.e. normal running gear plus a water proof jacket that I know will annoy me within about half a mile of starting running as I will a) overheat and b) the rustling noise will drive me nuts!

I dragged a friend along to share the joy with me.  We arrived in plenty of time, parked, looked at the weather and pondered our sanity.  But we were there and seemingly nothing better to do than run 10 hilly and muddy kilometres before lunch time!  This was the first Chilly Hilly race, and it was organised by a good running friend of mine who had assured me that the Rubix in the race title did not mean we had to complete a Krypton Factor style challenge before we were allowed to cross the finish line, it referred to one of the sponsors of the race.

About 250 runners assembled at the start and were soon under starters orders.  In my memory, the start was a gentle downhill, but in actuality it was a slight upwards slope that very quickly became a fairly vertiginous climb.  Running the route in the dark had the benefit of one not being able to see just how much uphill there still was ahead, today the hills seemed to go on and on.  The 'paths' were challenging too.  So much thick, squelch, sucking mud that tried to pull shoes off with every step!  The downhill sections were no easy option either - one misplaced foot could spell disaster, or at the very least a bruised bum and a loss of dignity.  I kept repeating to myself that the first half was tougher than the second!


The marshals were friendly and encouraging - it can't have been much fun for them standing in the rain and wind, and there was only one point where I thought I might have gone wrong as I couldn't see anyone ahead of me!  At this point I somehow managed to lose a contact lenses which made depth perception something of a challenge, but I only had two more miles to go!  The camaraderie amongst the runners was great - chatting briefly as we slipped and sploshed around the course and soon we were nearly at the end.  A sharp left turn, down a steep hill and the finish was in sight.... but required a detour onto some rather lovely tarmac and virtually a full circuit of the finish area before we could cross the finish line. I threw my self across the line, just managing to bag a sub one hour time (59:59 -11th female) and hugged the race director before being handed my medal and a raffle ticket.    

The chilli, provided by RKdia Catering, was excellent.  Just what was required on a cold wet day!  As was the plentiful tea from All About Tea.  We stood around and chatted with friends while we waited for the raffle to be drawn.  We didn't win, but that really didn't matter.  We'd had a lovely morning, running in a wonderful country park, in awful weather, and getting a fabulous medal too!  I will definitely be signing up again next year!  Well done to everyone involved and thank you!

Now there is just the matter of getting rid of all that mud!

Saving the best 'til last.

Last night I did something I'd never done before.

No, it wasn't meeting up with a load of strangers that I only knew via the internet.  I first did that in 1999, obviously lived to tell the tale and made some some very good friends.

Last night I met up with a group of strangers I knew via the internet, in a forest, in the dark to go for a trail run.  Armed with a head torch, and accompanied by a friend, we arrived in the car park at Queen Elizabeth Country Park (QECP) in the pouring rain. I'd run at QECP before as it is the setting for one of the more challenging parkruns in the area, but I'd never run cross country in the dark before.  It seemed that the rain was here to stay, so after a few brief hellos and a head count (there were 12 of us) we set off.  We were led by Kiernan - who took us along the route of a race he is organising at the end of January - the Rubix Chilly Hilly.

The start, once we had run up hill from the car park to get there, was a gentle downhill, but that was soon to change, we went up hills, down hills that had become rivers in the rain, we slipped and ducked to avoid low branches.  At times we walked up the really steep bits and, at every corner, we stopped and waited to make sure that there were still 12 of us and that we were all still happy.  It was great fun. I am pretty sure that there were some stunning vistas from our run route, but it was dark and I was looking to see where the next firm(ish) bit of ground was.  It will be nice to come back in daylight and I've put in an order for dry weather!  The run wasn't fast - it would be silly to try to run too fast on such uneven ground in the dark, but it is the most fun I have had while running in a long time.

Back in the car park the runners dispersed fairly quickly.  My friend and I took rather longer.  She has a brand new car, so trailing mud into it would just be rude, and she was dropping me in Petersfield to meet Husbando and some friends for supper, so I figured I needed clean up a little bit.  Balancing on one leg in the light shining from the courtesy light of the car and trying to maintain as much modesty (dignity went out of the window a long time ago) I managed to change into clean running kit.  My feet were caked in the mud that had gone in over the top of my trainers, but clean socks and shoes felt fabulous.

Meeting friends for supper was one of those spur of the moment decisions we made while having coffee in the morning.  We made a couple of 'phone calls and soon there were 5 of us going for supper at Annie Jones' in Petersfield.  I'd been there twice before - once for tapas and once in the more formal restaurant.  I did have a few qualms when I discovered we'd booked the restaurant as, although I much preferred it to the tapas, I was worried that having one member of the group turning up half an hour later and looking like a drowned rat (there is only so much one can do in a carpark with a hand towel, a wet wipe, a hair brush and a can of deodorant) might be frowned upon.

But it was fine.  In fact it was more than fine.  It was excellent.  I had one of the best meals I have had in a very long time, in fact every single dish that came to the table was excellent, the waiter was attentive and helpful and didn't seem too put out by the bag of wet running gear I dumped on the floor under our table.  The company was excellent too.  We enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine, a fantastic meal and decided that we should do this more often.

All in all an excellent evening - a run that reminded me why I love running, and the company of good friends enjoying lovely food!  A pretty good way to round off 2015 really!

This little piggy….

I like a race that is close to home.  It means that I get a bit of a lie in and reduces the stress involved when you don't know exactly where you are headed and are trusting to Google maps for a route and an estimated arrival time.  At 7am this morning I lay in bed thinking that this was the way to do it.  A nice mug of tea, provided by one of the children and no huge rush.  My friend was arriving at 7.45am and we knew that we would be at the venue before 8.15am.  This would give us oodles of time to pick up our numbers, queue for loos and get bored of waiting around for the race to start.  

Ha!  The traffic gods had other ideas.  We got to within a mile of the race start by about 8.10am and ground to a halt.  There was a solid line of traffic and it didn't seem to be moving at all.  Yes, Loseley Park does have a long drive, but it also has several car parks.  It got to the point where I worked out we had travelled less than a quarter of a mile in 25 minutes - at this point I suggested that my friend walked to the start - she could queue up for the race numbers and if the worst came to pass at least one of us would be at the start.  I still can't really work out why it took us so long to drive that last short section.  If there had been no one there directing the cars I don't think it could have been slower!  As it was I just  sat in the car getting more and more anxious.  I don't do 'late!'  I rarely do on time.  I am normally early.  Very early.  It is just too stressful not being on time.

I parked just before 9am.  The race was due to start at 9am.  I leapt out of the car… or rather I tried to leap out of the car, but my back had gone into spasm, so I climbed out gingerly and made my way to the registration desk to join the very long queue.  Thankfully the organisers decided to delay the start by 10 minutes, which was just enough time to pick up numbers and run to the loo before heading to the wrong start area.  Call me unimaginative if you will, but a big, inflatable arch with START on it looked pretty much like the start to me.  Luckily one of the race organisers spotted the gathering runners and directed us to the real start.  One that didn't have a great big, inflatable arch with START on it!  We got there just in time to hear the start being announced.  It did not worry me that I was right at the back - it was chip timed so I knew I'd get my actual running time.  Ha!  Wrong - this was one of those races where there is no timing mat at the start, just at the finish.  Ah well, after 3 weeks spent coughing for NATO, including a couple of days where I was so ill that, not only did I not go to work, I also didn't even consider going for a run, I wasn't expecting to run a fabulous race.

The start of this Hog shaped race was a lovely, gentle downhill.  3/4 of a mile into the race we passed the 1km marker.  Even allowing for the notorious inaccuracy of Garmins, it struck me that if every kilometre was this this long it would be a very long 11.7km!  The first hill was short, but steep.   I will admit to walking the last 100m of the hill as I just couldn't get enough breath in to keep me going and was coughing like a 40 a day smoker!  This was followed by an ominous downhill, after all what goes down must go up.  This climb, which took us from Guildford up to the Hog's Back was 2 miles long!  A 2 mile climb in a race that is only just over 7 miles seems a little excessive! This climbing part of the Hog's Back Road also included just over a mile of muddy, puddly track.  There may have been views along the way, but if I wasn't looking at the floor the sky was grey and cloudy!  The marshals were lovely, encouraging and enthusiastic.

After that it was pretty much downhill all the way until the 3/4 mile - which was uphill again!  Not hugely steep, but obviously a bridge too far for some of the runners.  I overtook lots of people who had overtaken me earlier and at 11k I could see the finish!  It was a straight run on farm track down a slight incline.  I could not wait to finish - so put on a burst of speed.  I know I didn't work hard today. I have felt more exhausted at the end of a training run than I did today, but it is another race finished and a cute medal added to the collection.

The coffee van in the finish area could not cope with the volume of business, (and we are both getting old so found the music a bit loud!) so we retired to Cote for breakfast and fun playing with our medals.

This is a lovely little race, but the lack of organisation let it down.  We were lucky with the weather - although blowy the wind had died down significantly and it stayed dry.  I came home saying 'never again,' but predictably my feelings have softened somewhat.  If if doesn't clash with anything more appealing next year you will no doubt find me at the start line again!