Race reports – Page 5 – Black and Tabby Runs

Marshfield Mudlark 2013 aka The Pamplona of Wiltshire

Sunday 13th October 2013 dawned cold and wet. Perfect weather for the first Cross Country race of the year, I thought, as I sprang out of bed early on Sunday morning. Okay, I didn’t actually spring, call it artistic license but it sounds better than ‘crawled’.

I first ran the Marshfield Mudlark in 2010, with an ever willing friend, when it was muddy-to-the-knees weather. We slipped and splashed and chatted our way around. I was introduced to ‘The Hill’ (it rises 100m in a kilometre) and we braved a field full of horses together.

Undaunted, I ran it again in 2011, on my own this time. To prove how capricious the British weather can be, it was sunny and hot. I still managed to find some mud (that would be the small stream the route crosses), but I was more interested in the excellent Marshfield Farm Ice Cream at the finish line.

I didn’t run this race in 2012 (can’t remember why, but I gather it was a mudbath), so decided I’d run it again this year.

We had been warned that if the weather was bad we might not be able to park on the cricket field, so I arrived early so I could park close by on the road if need be. I was fairly surprised as I was ushered onto the field to park – and was hoping they had a tractor on standby to pull us all out if the rain continued. Braving the weather I headed over to the cricket pavilion (“race HQ”) to see what was happening. The place was full of parents eating bacon butties and kids wearing ‘Mini Mudlark’ numbers who were scoffing cakes. I popped into the Ladies as there was no queue, removed my warm jogging bottoms and then headed back to the car. My legs felt cold and I was determined to keep my fleece jacket on for a long as possible.

Eventually I removed my jacket and went for a short warm up jog around the field. In a strange sadistic way I was pleased to see every other racer looked as cold as I felt. We were called for the pre-race briefing at 10:15 which was a light hearted affair, until the race director mentioned that most farmers had been extremely helpful about moving livestock out of fields that our route ran through. Pausing for a ripple of nervous laughter he then mentioned a field of ‘male cows’ that we should be careful of. I could see some people glancing down at red tops and swallowing hard. Before we could worry too much we were sent onto the road to line up for the start. Confusingly you have to go over the line, turn around and then line up. This is fine, but does mean there is a fair bit of shuffling, as faster runners hog the start line as slower runners shuffle past them heading towards the back. I was still squeezing through when the race started. As we were so squashed together it took a few moments before I could move. Then I was running forward, desperately rubbing my hands together and wishing I had worn gloves.

We ran past the cricket club and turned sharply off to the left. Down a gentle hill and then we took a right turn onto a footpath. This path slopes gently down under some trees, with misty views of the valley to the left. As the path takes a sharp left turn I could see runners picking their way along the valley, splashes of colour against the mist. I had another one of those emotional moments when I can’t quite believe what I’m doing, but had a good sniff and just carried on.

Running along the side of the valley along a slippy grass path was tough on my ankles. Suddenly I felt my legs slip from underneath me, and I threw my arm out to break my fall. My legs were spinning like a cartoon character running over a cliff and amazingly I regained my balance and didn’t hit the mud.

Panting from the adrenaline now surging through my veins, the course continued, misty, hilly, muddy and slippy. We slithered down slopes, clambered over stiles, and then staggered back up again. For the first time running this race I had to queue at some of the stiles. I was hoping this was because I was keeping up with runners this time, but frustrated that just as I was catching up with the lady in front of me I’d have to wait whilst she climbed over and then shed pull away from me again. I managed to sneak past her at the first water stop in a sneaky ‘just take one gulp’ manoeuvre.

As I ran through the field that had housed a bull last time, I peered about to make sure the field was as empty as it looked. It was. Maybe I’d managed to sneak past the bulls without even noticing them!

As we came out of the field we turned sharply left and I recognised that we were at the bottom of The Hill. I tried to run up it, but it’s just too steep and I knew there were plenty more hills still to come. I could see a girl in front of me who did manage to run the whole way. By the top I had nearly caught up with her (she was doing my classic slow-running technique) but kudos to her anyway. And even more kudos to her friend who had sped off ahead of her, made it to the top of the hill, and then turned and ran partway back down to run up again with her.

A second quick water station and then I knew we were headed back towards the village. Another lovely stretch of footpath through the trees and then a long hill up through some fields. I remembered having to walk up this field when I ran with my friend, and we were scared of the horses. This year though, I could see animals in the field but they weren’t horses. Oh no, this was the field of bulls. Even worse, they were all standing right on the footpath. I tried to catch up with the couple in front of me, thinking safety in numbers, but they were too far ahead. I watched as they picked their way between the bulls and started to follow them. My heart rate had already picked up, so I was amazed it could beat even faster when one of the bulls started trying to mount another bull just in front of me. I managed to skirt around the frisky bulls, and was amazed how fast I managed to run up that hill. Running of the Bulls, just like Pamplona but here in Wiltshire

I caught up with the couple in front of me just as we reached the final stile, and as we climbed onto the road I overtook them. It’s a great feeling to pass people you’ve been chasing, and one I never thought I’d feel.

The last half mile is along the lanes back to the cricket club, and I even managed a sprint finish. Crossing the line in the rain, I grabbed a cake and a cup of water and chatted to a couple of other finishers. In the pouring rain. Runners are strange!

I checked my time when I got home, and saw I’d completed the course in 1:17:36, about 3 minutes faster than last time. My ‘moving time’, as record by my Garmin, was 1:14:24. That was a lot of shuffling time at the start plus queuing at stiles!

Chippenham Half Marathon 2013

So after a summer of irregular training, last minute upsets and two emergency training plans, the morning of Sunday 15th September 2013 finally arrived. It was in the middle of a very busy weekend involving various family members staying with us, and a trip up to London for a family get-together of around 35 of my husband’s family. Getting to bed at 2am on race morning is not ideal, but I told myself I never sleep well before a race anyway.

When the alarm went off, adrenaline kicked in straightaway. I shot out of bed, and tiptoed down to the kitchen for my traditional pre-race porridge. This was followed by a hastily remembered beetroot shot for stamina, a banana for energy, and a cup of tea to wash this strange mixture down. Feeling slightly queasy I sidestepped the early rising visiting children and finished getting ready.

My kind husband had offered to drop me off at the start, and I was surprised to see him in full cycling gear, loading his bike into the car. Turns out he was planning on being a mobile cheerleader-cum-photographer. This is good news, because he’s very good at both of these roles. (I think he may have set a new world record at the London Marathon, when he and the children managed to see me running 6 times!)

As we arrived I walked down to the start area and immediately joined the portaloo queue. I was hoping to meet up with a lady I’d chatted with on an internet runner’s forum, so as I queued I was scanning the other runners to see if I could see any one who looked like they were looking for someone as well. She’d texted me what she was wearing so I approached someone matching her description with fingers crossed, and nervously asked “Dee?!” Thankfully it was her, so we queued together, chatting and trying to hide our nerves. Sorting out our bags, Dee pulled out her bottle of Lucozade and somehow managed to squeeze it open and shower a man standing to the side of us. Fortunately he saw the funny side and declared he’d rather it was champagne she was spraying him with after he’d won the race.

We skulked off at this point before Dee sprayed anyone less forgiving and made our way to the start. At Chippenham it’s a bit of a narrow route onto the road for the start, but we squeezed through and made our way to the back. We were both hoping for a time of around 2:15 (having both had disrupted training over the last few weeks). I had been thinking of pacing at around 10:30 and then speeding up towards the end if my legs would let me, however Dee confidently said “so, around 10 minute miles then, yes?” and I gulped and squeeked “okay – but I reserve the right to slow down if I need to!” We were still chatting as an air horn shattered the Sunday morning peace, and then a very loud firework made us jump again. I hastily set my Garmin to finding some satellites and Dee sorted her phone out as we started shuffling toward the start line. Chippenham is a relatively small race, compared with our neighbouring races at Bath, Bristol and Swindon, so two minutes later we were running over the line and our race had begun.

The first mile took us up Chippenham High Street where we saw Mr B&T for the first time with his bike (and camera). We carried on out of town and then turned onto a small country lane. There were plenty of people out clapping, but not as many as previous years. Maybe the threatened wind and rain had kept everyone indoors, despite the fact that the weather was actually perfect for running – dry and cool.

By the first water station at mile 3 we were running well, had both got into the pace and were chatting as we ran. I always talk when I’m nervous, so poor Dee got quite an ear bashing! I won’t mention the fact that she barged me into the hedge at one point as I’m sure it was accidental and not at all just to shut me up.

By the second water station at mile 6 we were glad to think we were close to the half way mark as to be honest we were both starting to find it hard going. At mile 7 Dee confessed that this was the point her mind started playing games with her, and I knew exactly what she meant. My legs were feeling tired, and my lack of sleep meant my head was fatigued as well. By mile 8 I was telling both of us we were nearly two thirds of the way, so were effectively on the home straight. I might have mentioned the nasty hill at mile 12 at this point once or twice, only because I had bad memories of having to walk up it one previous year. I think I had Dee worried about it, as she kept mentioning it. At mile 9 we saw Mr B&T again and he took another attractive photo of us. My legs were really feeling tired now, and I remember telling Dee I’d forgotten quite how long a half marathon really was.

Mile 9 - still running — Mile 9 – still running

Our pace had slowed but we were still on target for a 2:15 finish. Both of us had stopped chattering by now as we had no spare breath. Dee’s phone app was telling her she’d completed each mile nearly half a mile before we got there, and my Garmin was ‘beeping’ for the next mile when the marker was only just in sight, so it was amazing we were believing anything these pieces of technology were telling us. I think we were both suffering by this point (I know I was), but neither of us wanted to be the one to say “I need to slow down!” I was thinking, through gritted teeth, that I had no idea how I was still pushing on at this point when Dee said she’d have slowed down miles before if she were running on her own. I think it’s known as peer pressure, in the nicest possible way. Apart from the low points at Brightom Marathon this year’s marathon, these were the hardest miles I’ve ever run in any race.

After mile 10 the course is very slightly uphill, the sort of incline you only notice when running. Dee did ask if this was ‘the hill’ and I wasn’t sure if it was kinder to warn her that ‘that hill’ was steeper than this, or to leave her in blissful ignorance until we got there. As it was I didn’t have the breath to grunt anymore than “not yet!” Bang on 12 miles we hit the short downhill which was followed by the mile 12 hill. To be honest, it’s not that bad, but it felt like a mountain to tired, undertrained legs.

As Dee gasped that we must be nearly at the top, I was happy to tell her it was just found the corner, and then downhill all the way to the finish. As we staggered down the hill back into Chippenham I joked that I felt like I had blinkers on, as I could only focus straight ahead. We turned into the residential streets that lead to the back way into the sports field and right on cue we passed a house playing the Chariots of Fire music. Staggering onto the grass we could see the finish line ahead, just as my roving cheerleader and photographer popped up again. I half expected Dee to pull away in a sprint finish, something I’ve never managed to do, but we stayed running at the same pace and crossed the line together, absolutely rung out, finished, nothing more to give.

I remember standing, gasping, zombie-like as my husband snapped another photo – sometimes I wish he wasn’t quite so keen. I shuffled towards my medal, t-shirt, banana and goody bag, and met up with Dee again. The clock had said 2:15 as we crossed the line, but my Garmin was saying 2:13, so we’d actually beaten our target, and had both beaten our previous PBs. I said good bye and thank you to Dee and we staggered off home.

Chippenham2013 - gormless finish — Zombie-Like

So we did it, undertrained and sleep deprived. Official time had me in at 2:13 :35, and Dee at 2:13:34. Not sure where she sneaked that extra second from as I’m sure we crossed both lines together, but I don’t mind as I have a shiny new PB and I’m very happy. It was great to run with Dee, to run at the same pace, to both be pushing ourselves equally hard and to be suffering together towards the end. The DOMS I had for the next 3 days were worse than for a marathon, but it was worth it.

Chippenham Half 2013 PB — New PB thank you very much!

Right – what’s next?!

Chippenham River Run 5K Race Report. 3rd July 2013

My once-a-year 5K race has rolled around again, on 3rd July 2013. I really should get around to doing a Parkrun and then I wouldn’t feel the ridiculous pressure of it being my ‘once-a-year’ chance to get a PB.

Fortunately I had read something just that morning about pre-race nerves. It said something like “if you’re feeling nervous, remember you’re the only person putting the pressure on yourself. If you really don’t want to do it, then go home!” It was quite a liberating thought and made me feel much better. In my mind I wanted to beat last year’s time of 27:45, and my 10K time from the previous week suggested I could run 5K in 26:39. I confess, I had 27:45 written on my hand in biro so I could check my time as soon as I finished

It was a warm and sunny evening as I arrived at the Olympiad sports centre, and I collected my number without issue. I made my way to the start area, and milled around with the other runners. There were a number of groups of runners from local running clubs and I did feel rather on my own. I think I was missing my running partner from the last 2 years.

I had a little warmup jogette and found a railing to hang onto to swing my legs around in some dynamic stretches. I always feel rather silly and very self conscious doing these so I naughtily skimped on them and made my way to the start mêlée. A friend spotted me at this point and we had a little chat as we waited. The course goes right past her house, which must be a very strange feeling!

We heard the race director shouting “3 – 2 – 1 …” We never heard “Go” but the masses pushing forward told us it was the start. As in previous years it was a mad rush for the first corner, where the course narrows from open grass to a single track path. I think I timed it just right this year as although the first dash felt way too fast, as I settled in line on the narrow path I was running with runners all going at the same pace as myself. It felt fast but do-able so I basically just hung on. At the slope where the route zig-zags up to the cycle path we all slowed down, and the guy in front of me actually slipped as he turned the gravelly corner. I slowed down even more as I’m a coward and I did not want to end up on the floor as well.

The cycle path was slightly shady which was a relief as the evening was proving to be very warm and muggy, and then we were off the path and on the streets heading downhill back towards the start. I was starting to feel tired and hot at this point, and had to keep giving myself updates to keep going. I was telling myself I was half way, I only had a mile to go, just round the corner….

We left the road and headed back on the ‘single carriageway’ path. I unfortunately found myself behind a handful of runners who slowed down at this point. I was torn between gnashing my teeth in frustration, and being grateful for a chance to catch my breath. I managed to squeeze past them as soon as the path was wide enough, and headed over the grass to the finish line. My legs were shouting loudly at me, my heart was pumping, sweat was pouring off me, but did my best approximation of a sprint finish and made it to the line.

As I stopped my Garmin, I saw the time – 26:45. I’d taken a whole minute off last year’s time. Another new PB? YES PLEASE!

new5KPB — Replace my 5K PB? Don’t mind if I do!

Juneathon Day 28. Great Chalfield 10K Race Report

So one of the secrets of a good result is good preparation. In this house that usually means good food. So good race preparation means a good carb load. Cue the ultimate triple carb meal. Pasta, potatoes AND bread! And jolly tasty too

It’s actually Minestrone Soup with Focaccia bread. All home made, and even eaten outside because it was a lovely evening. It was so good I even had some more for race day lunch (I find evening races really weird to get myself organised for – wot no porridge?)

Thursday dawned warm and sunny again, so with a line full of washing drying I spent the day gardening and allotmenteering. Maybe not as good race prep as the meal. I was worried about the heat though, as running in the sun tends to push my heart rate sky high, meaning I feel shattered and have to slow down. My rain dance must have worked, because bang on 4 pm the rain started.

By the time I made it to the race it was pouring down, chilly and quite miserable.

This is a great little race run with, and raising funds for, the local Scout group. Last year there were 97 runners, the sun shone, and everyone was cheerful and friendly. (See last year’s race report here, with some much prettier photos!) This year, there were 71 runners, the sun was nowhere to be seen but everyone was still cheerful. Bless the marshals who had to stand out in the rain until we’d run past. One was heard to cry defiantly that he didn’t need an umbrella, he was a Scout Leader!

It was freezing standing around waiting for the off, I dutifully listened to the pre-race briefing and was most amused to hear that each kilometre would be marked by a big sign. Apart from Kilometre 6, because they couldn’t find the sign. You’ve got to love these little races!

Great Chalfield 10K 2013 Start — The start. Already soaked

Eventually we were off, and i was amazed to find that, as I’d hoped, by the 1Km sign i was already warm. I was wishing I’d worn my compression socks to keep my calves and shins warm though, because I could feel my right shin just feeling a little sore. I did a Jens Voigt, told it to shut up, and ignored it. I was aiming to keep as close to 9 minute miles as I could, which I duly did. With a small field, once we were off the Common we quickly separated and I found myself running on my own. I did overtake one man, but after that there were long sections where I couldn’t even see any other runners.

It was all feeling good, but as I got to the 5K marker I did question if I could keep this pace up for another 5K. My legs just kept on going though, so I told my head to shut up and pushed on. As last year, Great Chalfield Manor surprised me by suddenly appearing and then disappearing at around 8K. After this I had memories of a long hill back up to the Common (and the finish line) from last year where I overtook a couple of people who had slowed to a walk. Maybe they’ve taken a steamroller to the course since last year, or maybe I’m a bit fitter, because there was a just small incline there this year. No walkers to overtake either. Curses – always an ego boost!

I splashed my way back along the Common and as I crossed the finish line I heard them shout out my time, 55:21. Wow, wow and wow!

Great Chalfield 10K 2013 Finish — The End is Nigh!

A new PB! To put it in context, my time for the same race last year (but in the warm sunshine) was 59:26. My previous 10K PB, from 2011, was set on the pancake flat Castle Combe Circuit and was 58:35. How lovely to see this as I uploaded my times to Garmin Connect:-

new 10K PB — Oh yes, I think I’ll accept this new PB!

Okay – so I take it ‘resting on my laurels’ will count as an activity for the rest of Juneathon??! (Just in case it doesn’t I’ll do my Abs DVD again later).

Juneathon Day 9 – Race day!

My first ever 5 mile race, a strange distance, but a good one. The race is so local to me that the route is one I run regularly. The top part of the course is my default “I just need to get out somewhere flattish and put a few miles in” route, and is also where I’ve been running my intervals. Probably because its so local, and I hadn’t managed to pre-register in time, it was only late last night I realised I needed to get myself organised for it. I piled up running cap, sun glasses, shorts and t-shirt, in anticipation of another warm, sunny day.

Mr B&T was up and out early, for a 175Km ‘Audax’ ride (think orienteering on bikes), so I stayed in bed for a bit longer after he’d gone. I didn’t manage to get any more sleep though, because the ol’ pre-race nerves were kicking in BIG TIME. I’d foolishly looked up last year’s results and seen how speedy most of the runners were. It was looking like I would be right at the back of the pack. Not a new experience by any means, but it doesn’t give you much leeway before you end up AT the back.

I finally got myself organised and out of the house, and off to collect daughter from her sleepover. I had to drive along part of the course and was a little confused to see runners already out. Had I got the time wrong I nervously asked myself??!! Quick check – no! I saw exactly where the water station was going to be, which is always good to know. It was cloudy and a bit chilly at this time, with a cold wind, so I was laughing at myself for picking up my running cap and sun glasses, and for applying sun cream before I set off.

Daughter finally collected and dropped back home, I sped back to the race HQ and was very relieved to find there was sill time to register, and still places (phew!) I completed the paperwork and pinned on my number at high speed, and then realised I had nearly an hour to kill before the race started. After (another) trip to the loo (I hate race mornings!) I found a quiet corner to see what the runners I follow on Twitter were up to. My timeline was full of lots of other people getting ready for races, and after I tweeted how nervous I was, a few good luck messages as well. Thanks Tweeps – it really helped!

Finally we were called for the pre-race briefing, and then told to assemble. It was still overcast and a tad chilly at this point, so I didn’t bother going and getting my sunglasses or cap from the car. 11 o’clock arrived, we shuffled forward towards the line (which was quite a long way away in my case – I always like to start near the back), and we waited and shivered in the chill breeze. Suddenly the air horn blasted, the sun sprung out from behind the clouds, the wind dropped, and we were off. I started my Garmin as the horn sounded rather than as I crossed the start line so my time would be consistent with the officially recorded race time. Down the drive from the rugby club, then a quick loop through a field to make the distance up, then back down the drive and onto the course proper. The field of runners were already well strung out, and I was delighted to see the normally deserted country lanes full of colourful running tops and club vests.

In a fit of runner’s logic, I had managed to convince myself to run at around last year’s 5K PB pace, because obviously 5 miles is only a tiny bit longer than 3.1 miles, and nowhere near as long as a 10K race. This pace was 8:56 minute miles, so I figured if I could keep to under 9 minute miles I’d be doing well. My secret ‘Gold medal’ result would be to come in under 45 minutes, with Silver being less than 50 minutes and Bronze being just conquering my nerves! The course has a very gradual incline for the first couple of miles so I knew it would feel hard and I should just hold on for the downhill bits.

Close to the end of this long incline one runner I’d been following had slowed to a walk. Ever helpful, I pointed out the tree that marked the top of the slope, and the start of the downhill and flat section. He gasped he’d been hoping the water station was along this section, so I also told him where the water station actually was (just call me Mrs Tourist Information!) He started running again, and we chatted in between gasps and puffs. He told me he had a muscle problem so was actually running a minute per mile slower than usual. I told him I was flat out hoping to stay under 9 minute miles. We laughed that both of our Garmins were ‘beeping’ quite a way before the official mile markers, just to confuse pace setting. We moaned in unison about the headwind which appeared as we came up the last uphill section. We ran together right up to the very last section, pacing each other along. I could see my average pace was around 9 so I was getting quite excited. Along the last section I had to pull in behind him as a car passed us, and I couldn’t catch him back up after that. I pushed onto the finish line, crossing (according to my Garmin) in 45:09

First thought – damn, missed my Gold medal by 9 seconds! Second thought – oh a medal and goody bag! (Like a magpie – easily distracted by something shiny). After a drink, a banana, a ‘thank you’ to my pacer and some stretches, my third thought was “well if I started well back from the start line, I actually ran further than most people, so I wonder what time I actually passed the 5 mile mark, according to my Garmin?” Statistics and technology are wonderful things – with a quick shufty through my Garmin data I can see I hit 5 miles in 44:32, and my average pace over the whole distance was 8:54 – quicker than last year’s 5K PB pace.

Hooray – I have awarded myself an honorary Gold medal for this, as with the heat and the nerves I think I ran a pretty fine race. It also looks good for a new 10K PB later in the month, if I can keep near to that pace for another mile.

Back home, here’s my finisher’s swag. Not sure what a ‘Titan’ bar is, but it looks chocolatey, it says its suitable for vegetarians so I think I’ve earned it. I just wish I could do something about those pre-race nerves – can anyone offer any tips?

Brighton Marathon 2013 Race Report

After a hectic journey on Friday night, we arrived in Arundel ready for the big weekend. Saturday was spent being blown around Brighton to meet up with an old school friend of Mr B&Ts and to have lunch with him and his wife. They showed us the Lanes, but it was too wet and windy for mooching about so they then took us to the Brighton Centre so I could register and collect my number. The Expo was good – lots of lovely bargains – it was a pity I’d promised not to spend any money as I’d already treated myself pre-marathon! Back to Arundel for a really delicious dinner at a great Italian restaurant. I just wished I could have had a lovely glass of wine to go with it! I tried to have an early night, but nerves, excitement, and a full stomach put paid to that!

After reading worrying weather reports all week about how hot and windy it was going to be on Sunday, Sunday morning dawned cold and grey. I felt silly putting suncream on my face, but after getting a sunburnt neck last year put it on anyway ‘just in case’. I’d been awake since 4.30 so was glad to finally get up at 5.50am and try to get dressed without waking the family up (the joys of a Premier Inn family room!). I couldn’t stomach my porridge, got about half the pot down and a cup of tea and gave up trying.

Mr B&T drove me to a tiny train station in the middle of nowhere and left me there with a slightly strange character who was the only other person waiting for the train. I was quite relieved when the train arrived, already nearly full of marathoners and families. I grabbed a seat, managed to eat a piece of flapjack on the 40 minutes journey, and listened to my ipod to try and chill out a bit.

After a quick loo stop at Brighton station I simply followed the crowds as I didn’t really know where the start was. It actually took a while to get there, must have been over a mile away, and I was trying not to walk too fast and to save some energy. Arrived at Preston Park at 8am, with just an hour to the start, and immediately joined the loo queue. 45 minutes later I just had time to strip off my outer layers, drop my bag at the baggage truck and go to my start pen.

As ever starting at the back it takes a long while for anything to happen, but after 10 minutes or so we heard clapping and saw the Elites come past us (they had a separate start). They just fly by, its beautiful to watch them run – so smooth! Another 10 minutes or so and we were off too. Walking, finally saw the start, and finally started jogging. Realised at this point that my gel belt was too heavy and loose, and was banging against my back, so as I crossed the start line I was trying to tighten it up. As we made our way around the park I spotted another couple of Runner’s World forumites (love it when people put their forum names on their shirts!) so had a little chat with them and then carried on.

First few miles were busy and crowded, and a little chilly and drizzly. I laughed at one lady peeling off and running into MacDonalds at mile 2 – I was hoping she was going to use the loo and not stop off for a quick burger! Saw runners going the other way on this section, as it was the first of many ‘switchbacks’ that the Brighton route has, in order to make up the miles. I actually find these sections hard as it feels like you’re not getting anywhere, but it helped once I realised I could work out how close we were to the turnaround point by the colours of the runners numbers. Once I was seeing Green (like me) I knew we couldn’t be far.

After 5 miles we were on the sea front and heading out to the East towards Ovingdean. Again there were already runners heading back to the West, 7 miles ahead of me. These were the super speedy runners though, and in a sadistic way it was good to see some of them looking like they were suffering (sorry – but it cheered me up. At least they looked like they were working hard!) This section seems to suddenly leave the city behind and heads up a hill. Actually, it looks like a hill and I remember I’d been assured it was a flat course, but looking at my Garmin its hardly a hill at all. Again I was watching the colours of the numbers of the runners coming back down the hill to gauge how close I was to the turnaround point. As I got closer to the large roundabout which I’d though was it, I saw we were directed off up a road to the left, which was disheartening to say the least.

I finally made it to the turn just after the 9 mile point. All was comfortable still at this point, I’d been sipping water at each water station and I’d had my first get at mile 6. I was keeping my pace at around 12 minute miles but as my Garmin was telling me I was at a mile well before the mile signs it was hard to know just how accurate my pace was. Running back down towards Brighton and the half way mark I was surprised how many people were already walking. Not surprised that they were walking, but that they’d obviously started too far ahead and set off too fast. This wasn’t planned run / walk, this was people looking shattered and broken.

The sun was out by now as we came back into Brighton and the crowds had gathered. I had LOTS of people shouting my name (the letters on my shirt were 4″ tall – the advantages of having a short name!) Maybe I just looked needy and desperate, I don’t know, but it was actually quite overwhelming as I felt I had to wave, or smile, or give a thumbs up to everyone who called my name. It wasn’t just my imagination either, at one point a runner in front of me turned around and said “So many people are calling your name??!!!!!”

Half way and I was feeling tired. Not sure if it was the lack of sleep over the previous few nights, or not enough breakfast, or the sun (or too much waving!) but despite sticking to my 12 minutes miles (and slower) I couldn’t help but think half marathons seemed a much better idea than a full marathon. I thought my family might have made it out by now, so I was scanning the crowds for them, but there was no sign of them.

By mile 15 I had a huge wobble. I had gone a long way, been out running for 3 hours, but there was still SUCH a long way to go. I’d been disappointed not to see my family, the sun was full out now, and I just felt it was all too much. They were handing out Shot Bloks here, so I grabbed some caffeinated ones and had a little walk as I chewed them. I had to give myself a serious talking to at this point, and then managed to get myself running again. Its hard having a wobble when people are shouting your name every few minutes. I did love the music that a few people were playing along this section (out of windows mainly) – although one song’s invitation to ‘Jump around’ I managed to decline.

Then I decided maybe I needed a loo stop, but of course there were big queues at all the portaloos and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing 15 minutes queuing like I did last year. I asked for Divine help and suggested to the big runner in the sky that if I would be better for a loo stop, could he make a loo without a queue appear, or even a large, secluded bush would do. Within 5 minutes, just as the road turns to loop back again at mile 16 I saw a church with its doors open and a sign saying “Open for Tea and Coffee. Toilets“. A sign!! I ran straight in, gasped ‘toilets!!??’ and was directed to a lovely, clean, real flushing loo, with loo paper and NO QUEUE! I could even wash my hands and wipe my face afterwards. See the power of prayer!!

I felt much better now, and set off feeling ready to push on. Brighton is such a great place – at mile 17 I high-fived the Queen as she sat having a picnic in the road with Prince Philip at her side. (Don’t think I was hallucinating at this point….!)

After mile 18 we were back on the coast, heading out to Shoreham Power Station which marks the West-most part of the course.It was just a case of plodding on at this point, putting one foot in front of the other. It was getting hotter, and there was a bit of a breeze now as well which was cooling but had me worried about finishing into a head wind. Again the returning runners were just on the other side of the road here, and again there were many people walking. Maybe this is why at mile 20 I had another little walk. I didn’t mean to, I just found myself walking. There were no crowds here which actually meant I could focus and pull myself together again. They were handing out more Shot Bloks at mile 21 so I had some more, sucked more water and set off for the final 5 miles. I tried telling myself it was just an hour from there, but that didn’t help so I stuck to thinking which of my runs at home were just 5 miles long.

At 23 miles we were running right along the front, past people outside their beach huts having picnics, around small children on scooters wheeling themselves right into the way of the runners.Still blazing sunshine, but the wind seemed to have dropped so it was warmer but at least it wasn’t hindering me. I was still scanning the crowds for my family, but there was no sign of them, and the crowds were still shouting my name like mad. I passed a block of apartments with a group of people on an upper floor balcony. They were on the other side of a very wide road, and STILL shouted my name out!

At 24 miles I thought “Just 2 to go!!!” but I swear they were the longest 2 miles I’ve ever run. I was so tired, and my right knee had started hurting. I had to stop acknowledging the crowd when they called my name because I simply had to focus on making it to the finish line. At this point I was telling myself I’d never run another marathon, it was just too far and too difficult to train for. Mile 25 – just one more to go – I don’t even think I was thinking anymore at this point, just keeping on going.

On the last mile - still waving — On the last mile – still waving

Past a sign saying ‘800 metres to go’, then 400 metres – but it was still taking far too long to get to the finish. I suddenly heard someone shouting my full name – I’d been blocking out the crowd, but this made me turn around – and it was my family!!!!! I gave them a big smile and a wave, but no way was I going to stop now! Suddenly I could see the finish line up ahead. My knee was hurting but I was nearly there. Then I was over it, I stopped my Garmin and I could feel my throat block with sobs. I held it together whilst I got my medal, my t-shirt, my goody bag, my banana etc, then found I was staggering past a large white tent. I just turned my face to it, turned my back to the world and had a huge bawl. I couldn’t breathe I needed to cry so much. It was just pure relief that it was over, that I’d done my very best, and I’d made it. I genuinely felt at that moment I couldn’t have run any better on the day.

It took a while to meet up with my family, and then of course I cried again.

Done! Final chip time was 5 hours 25 minutes and 41 seconds, and I’m extremely pleased with that.

Santa Dash 2012

After supporting Dorothy House (our local hospice) when I ran in this year’s London Marathon, I was very keen to take part in their second ‘Santa Dash‘.

It was held on Sunday 2nd December, starting and finishing at Dorothy House. The route wound round some little lanes, down a main road, along the Kennet and Avon canal towpath, then back up the hill for refreshments.


Attractive ‘One size fits none’ Outfit

First challenge was getting into the enormous costume – how to tie the trousers tight enough so they wouldn’t fall down vs. cutting off the blood supply to my legs. Boy do those beards itch as well!

Many photos were taken, a quick mass warm-up in the car park, then we were off!

It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining, and we all soon warmed up inside our suits. Down the first few lanes there was a regular littering of Santa belts as they broke and fell off. Charging single file down the main road we had a few ‘toots’ from passing motorists, and then it was onto the towpath.

I so wish I’d had my camera with me here. The path was flat and the running was easy, apart from passing the odd bemused dog walker. The water was still, the trees arched over above us, and a thin red line of running Santas stretched away into the distance.

Crossing the aquaduct (twice) was exciting and meant we could shout encouragement (or abuse!) to runners just ahead of us, and then just behind us as we crossed the River Avon. I had to give in and take my hat off here, as my head had reached 1000C

After that, was THE HILL. This was muddy and slippery, as well as steep. What was worse was that we could see it coming, and the straggling line of Santas struggling up it.

I confess – I walked up the hill. Everyone did. I have to confess as not only is it good for the soul but there is photographic evidence. That’s me, at the back of the group, hat in hand.

As the hill levelled out I started running again. Not far now! I even managed to put my hat back on just before crossing the finishing line.

It was lovely to be offered a cup of tea and a Danish pastry at the end, and even a bag of chocolate coins (which my children devoured).

So really well done Dorothy House for such a great event (and thank you for most of the photographs as well!) I hope you raised lots of money to carry on your amazing work.

One last PB for the year?

Did I mention I’ve PB’ed at every distance this year …. apart from 10K? Might have mentioned it, because I’m incredibly proud of this achievement. I really wanted to manage to PB at EVERY distance this year, no exceptions, but this was going to be difficult as my 10K PB was set last year in perfect conditions.

The race was the ‘Castle Combe Chilly 10K’ which is run around a racing circuit and so is pancake flat. If its windy the course can be windswept and desolate, but the weather behaved itself and was calm but cool. No traffic, wide flat ‘road’ so no weaving around other runners, and plenty of people running at about the same pace as me so lots of people to chase down. Oh, and my children were able to stick bags of chips through the gaps in the Pit Lane wall whilst shouting encouragement like “Hurry up or we’ll eat yours!” A surefire way to make a Northern lass speed up!

Nnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeooooooowwwww and other F1 noises

This year’s Castle Combe Chilly 10k was set for Sunday November 25th 2012, so I’ve had my eye on this date for weeks, trying my best to run my intervals and do my tempo runs. I had even reached the point of working out what pace I should aim for. And then …. disaster struck, in the form of a snotty son needing cuddles. By Friday I was full of cold and feeling dreadful. By Saturday night I had abandoned plans to run unless a miracle happened overnight, and by Sunday morning I acknowledged a miracle hadn’t happened, and went back to bed.

So no PB, not even an attempt at a PB, just a pile of germ-y tissues and a feeling of disappointment.

Ah well – next race is the Dorothy House ‘Santa Dash’ in aid of our local hospice. I’ve never done a Santa Run* before, and its a 6K run which I never done before, so I guess that’ll be a new PB then, won’t it!

*I did overtake Santa in the Chippenham Half Marathon a few years ago – the jingle bells on his trousers were driving me mad!

Bristol Half Marathon 2012 Report

Despite my worries, niggles and moans, as expected Sunday morning saw me up and eating porridge just after 6am. I had finally made my plans late the night before, so unfortunately hadn’t had much sleep. Nevertheless, adrenaline got me up and out of the door by 7.00am. I’d decided to use the Park and Ride as I’d assumed Bristol would be very busy, and as I was good and early there was no problems parking, and even a toilet there (most important on race day!) On arriving at the bus stop, the lady sitting next to me (who looked vaguely familiar) asked if I knew where the bus would leave from to go back to the car park. As we chatted, it turned out that this was the lady I’d talked to at the end of Malmesbury Half a week ago, when I was waiting for my bro-in-law to finish, and she was waiting for a friend. Small world!

We made it safely to the harbourside area which was already bustling, then she headed off to find the ‘other’ start area, whilst I went to find the statue of the dung beetle which was the designated meeting point for a group of Runners World forumites. (Yes – there really is a statue of a dung beetle. I didn’t believe it until I saw it!) Found the statue, grabbed a cup of tea, and over the next few minutes my 3 friends arrived. Always lovely to meet people in real life when you’ve been chatting to them for months online!

We chatted, we queued for toilets, we said our ‘good luck’s and set off. I was to start from the College Green start so found myself passing the start / finish line and then climbing some steps with a crowd of other runners up to College Green. It was very scenic round here, and atmospheric with the cathedral’s bells ringing out. I watched the first wave set off (so I knew where I’d have to go), then dropped my bag and queued one last time for the loo.

As I joined my pen, I noticed that the Yellow and Pink pens were basically just one long queue, which would eventually join onto the back of the Green and Red runners. As I was near the back of my pen, I was basically starting at the very back of the entire race. Queuing up with men who had inflatable crocodiles trapped to their backs should have warned me what was to come.

As with any big race, 10.00 o’clock (start time for the second wave) was marked by a slow shuffle. We shuffled down a hill and round a corner, then we shuffled a bit more until finally we could see the start line, and crossed it at 10.13am. Again, as with any big race, the road was very crowded and the first mile was more start-stop than go go go! As everyone settled down and we set off on the long straight section along the Avon Gorge we could already see runners coming back the other way. As anticipated it was exciting running under the Clifton Suspension bridge, but that was the best bit. At just over 4 miles we did a u-turn and started running back exactly the way we’d just come. The only thing to look forward to was that running back under the bridge would mark round about half way. The road was good and wide here, but I was still finding it hard to get into any sort of a rhythm as I was having to constantly overtake people, weave around others, and check my Garmin to try and stick to my planned pace of 10:30 minutes per mile.

Coming in to the Finish Line.

After the bridge we headed back towards the city centre. At around 8 miles there was an energy gel station, so I took the one I’d brought (as I knew it wouldn’t upset my tummy). On into the City Centre, with very little support from people in the houses we ran past, no music or bands playing. A couple of the charity cheerpoints had live music which was great to hear. The course wound its way through squares and along back streets and main roads. We seemed to often spot runners going the other way and not knowing the course I didn’t know whether it was runners ahead or behind of us. There were a couple of ‘slopes’ just to catch out the more tired amongst us, and one nasty slope around mile 12 (I think) which did seem to go on forever. More annoyingly though, even more people were walking which meant more weaving and overtaking. At one narrow bridge an entire block of people were walking, with no space to get around them. Grr!

It was amazing to spot my family 3 times – just after the 10 mile point, a bit further on, and then just before the finish. Always a relief to know they’ve managed to get up and out of the house! Very relieved to cross the finish line, great to get another PB by knocking another 1 minute 23 seconds off last week’s time, but also a tiny bit disappointed as I’d hoped to knock even more off.

Rocking the ‘oven ready chicken’ look

One pain at the end was trying to get back across the end of the course as we needed to get back up the steps to College Green to collect my bag. Marshalls were very sensibly controlling the crossing, but this did add an extra 5 minutes of standing around and getting cold. Then in order to get back down to the harbourside area for some lunch, we had to cross over again. I did think how much easier it would be if the organisers had transported our bags down to the Harbourside… However huge thumbs up to the staff of ‘Los Iguanas’ Mexican restaurant though, who gave me a free glass of fizz because I was wearing my medal!

So overall, mostly good on the day organisation, with lots of efficient marshals. Atmosphere sadly lacking though. Am I glad I did it? Yes. Would I run it again? Probably not – sorry Bristol!

Malmesbury Half Marathon 23rd September 2012

After setting the alarm for 8, I was hoping for a good night’s sleep before the Malmesbury Half. Young cat had other plans though, so it was a slightly grumpy racer who got up to eat porridge at 8am. After seeing the awful weather forecast I was quite pleased to see that it wasn’t actually raining at this point.

We set off a few minutes later than planned, but were still on time to first pick up a friend who was also running, and then my brother-in-law who was running his very first race. The rain had started very gently as we parked up and walked to the registration point (this included a long flight of steps up – not great before the race had even started!)

We collected our race packs, and retired to the changing tent to shelter from the increasing rain. Despite my worries about being late we still had an hour before the race started. We hid from the ever-increasing rain, pinned on our numbers, and slowly (somewhat reluctantly) peeled off our layers down to ‘Lycra’ level.

A 5 minute walk to the start line in the High Street (up another slope) took me to find the wide street full of soggy runners, with sadly no indication of where to line up according to your pace. I was just thinking I had better take my black bin bag off before the race started, when suddenly I heard “GO!” and people around me started moving. I frantically struggled out of my bag just before I crossed the line, and even found a bin to put it in.

The race started quite fast, as a downhill slope encouraged everyone to speed over the line and round the corner. Feeling like an experienced racer now I didn’t worry about this, but just waited until the crowds thinned out and there was space for me to run at my own pace. The rain was pouring down now – those big fat drops the look like hail stones. I was passed my a chap from the Veteran’s Association in a hand cranked racing wheelchair. He made me an offer I nearly couldn’t refuse – if I helped push him up the hills, he’d give me a lift down the other side. I then found myself next to another lady and we started chatting. Turns out she was practising running at 2:20 pace (so 10:40 Minute Miles) as she was pacing someone at Swindon Half in a few weeks time. This was quicker than the 11 Minute Miles I’d planned to run at, (which would give me a 2 hours and 25 minutes finish) but it felt comfortable so I stayed with her.

I rang with this lady for the first 4 miles or so, then came a hill and she left me behind. I chatted to a group from “Slinn Allstars” for a mile who were pacing a lady to a 2:30 finish (although they were going faster than that!) before I overtook then. I could see my 2:20 friend just in front, so reckoned if I stayed between her and the Slinn Allstars my pace would be fine.

Made it to the 6 mile point, and then the 10K split. I managed to mess up my Garmin at this point by trying to press the ‘Lap’ button and actually pressing the ‘Stop’ button instead. Some frantic fumbling with cold fingers sorted it out though.

Somewhere around this point was a long slope down, and then a horrible slope up – really tough. This was hard work, but I was determined not to stop running as I’d finally warmed up and didn’t want to get cold again.

Pressed onto the 7 mile marker, and thought gratefully that I was over halfway. Then I realised my legs were feeling tired and had a little panic that I’d set out too fast after all. My pace was still hovering around the 10:40 mark. Had to talk some sense into myself, remind myself that the route (overall) sloped upwards for the first half, then downwards towards the finish. I decided to have my Gel with caffeine at the 8 mile point. I reckoned this would then kick in coming up to mile 10 and would give me a boost over the final 3 miles. At this stage of the race I was just making it from mile marker to mile marker. I had my gel (yum yum) (not) and as I finished it I ran past an open wheelie bin so popped it in (how convenient!).

By now the runners had really strung out, and at a few junctions there wasn’t a Marshall, just signs. I found myself running all by myself down a deserted, wet road and had another panic that I’d taken a wrong turning. Somewhere along this section of the route I ran past the best named pub ever – “The Cat and Custard Pot”. I’m still not entirely sure if this was real or a hallucination. Fortunately as I rounded a corner I could see other runners up ahead – a great relief. I could still see my 2:20 lady, and was amazed I was still keeping up with her.

Mile 9 was grim – was having a real wobble. The wind had shifted and was blowing into my face. My eyes were stinging from the rain, and my whole body was complaining. I heard my phone ‘bing’ to say I had a text, and managed to get my phone out to read it. It was from my husband, asking how I was doing. I replied saying I was wet, and at mile 10. After I stuffed my phone away again, I realised I was only at mile 9 – wishful thinking, obviously.

Mile 10 went past in a blur. At mile 11 I passed another runner, and commented how I was fed up of the rain now, and was just thinking of my warm fleece waiting at the end for me. She agreed, and added she was thinking of a Hot Chocolate from the drinks stand. I practically drooled at this thought and added it to my mental list of ‘things to get me to the finish line’.

We passed the ‘Welcome to Malmesbury’ sign, and seeing the Mile 12 marker was great. I’d seen the mile 13 marker as we left the registration area, so could visualise it and feel it getting closer. I has no idea where I was as I don’t know Malmesbury very well and had completely lost my sense of where we were. It was a surprise to suddenly see signs to the pool were I used to take the children for swimming lessons, and exciting to think “I know where I am!”

Just one (and 0.1) of a mile to go – I’d been assured there were no more hills, so easy right? Actually, no. This final section cut along a footpath that ran between the backs of houses (well, that’s what it felt like). It sloped down, and up again. It was narrow and full of people with umbrellas coming towards me. It was full of runners clutching goody bags and medals coming the other way. At this stage there was no way I could weave between everyone – one runner advised me just to shout to get everyone out of the way.

It was a relief to get out of this path, and onto the final downhill road to the finish area. At this point I realised I was next to the 2:20 lady and gasped at her “I didn’t think I’d catch you up!” She kindly moved aside, and said “I’m slightly ahead, so if you push on you’ll get 2:20”.


Smile of Relief. Now where’s my hot chocolate?

I overtook her and dashed down the narrow path to the finish area. I passed the Mile 13 marker I’d been visualising. I could see the clock saying 2:19:56 as I entered the finish ‘funnel’. I could also see my soaking wet family waving and shouting me on. I stumbled over the line and stopped my Garmin.

I gasped that I thought I’d done 2:20, and then bossily ordered my husband to get me a hot chocolate NOW! (Remember – I’d been thinking of it since mile 11!) Saw my friends, who’d also had a great race. Friend had been hoping for sub-2, and had got 1:56 so he was very happy.

I sipped my hot chocolate, collected my bag and struggled into some dry clothes. As the tent was just an open tent I just had to pull them over the top of my wet running clothes meaning my trousers were soaked through in about 3 minutes.

We waited to cheer my brother-in-law in. As his first race, and with plans to walk parts he’d been hoping to break 3 hours. We cheered a few more people in, and then my children ran up the final straight to see if they could see him. Just a few minutes later they reappeared, escorting BIL in. They left him to cross the line by himself, and I was very proud to see him pull off the only Usain Bolt impression of the day. Despite being similarly cold and wet, BIL was delighted that he’d achieved all his aims for the day: he’d finished, he wasn’t last and he’d beaten 3 hours – by about 10 minutes.

It was a great relief to arrive home, to get clean, warm and dry, to have something to eat and then slump on the sofa. The children lit the fire for the first fire of the winter.

It was the first time this half Marathon had been run, and they’d limited the numbers to 500. Although the route was mainly lovely, there are things they’ll need to change if they’re going to run this even again with greater numbers. On the whole though, a good race, and a GREAT medal!

My offical Gun-to-Finish time is listed as 2:20:09, but my Garmin (which is the true Start-to-Finish time) is 2:19:46

For the geeky nerds amongst us, my splits are:-

Mile 1-10:18
2 – 10:37
3- 11:01
4 – 10:52
5 – 10:43
6 – 10:40
7 – 11:21 (this is where I messed up my Garmin at the 10K split, but I think its right!)
8 – 10:43
9 – 10:46
10 – 11:03
11 – 10:38
12 – 10:25
13 – 9:54
final 0.1 run in 53 seconds, at 8:46 pace. Amazing what the smell of a finish line can do!