Back out on the roads

I had a brilliant run on Sunday. For the first time in at least two weeks the sun was shining, the world was back from underneath its snow blanket and there was a possibility of running on roads rather than cross country (I found I couldn't really run on roads in snow). So I joined Ruth, Kevin and Alisdair from the club on their usual sixteen-mile route in Stony. Sixteen miles is actually a bit far to be running at this point in in the year (I should be running closer to thirteen). But since they were doing it, I was swept along and risked it.

For the first time in ages I felt a huge surge of joy to be out running. The first 8 miles were hard, as there was quite a lot of ice and we had to hop about over ice patches to avoid skidding. But I didn't mind a bit of prancing, and it was good to have a slower start. But after that - we really got into our strides. I haven't been able to run fluidly like that for weeks, because I have had to train off-road for Calderdale and run in the snow. These types of training have their own pleasures, but I never get into a constant rhythm. So on Sunday, I felt so inspired. I also felt relief - that I could still run a 'properly long' distance. The route was lovely, along quiet roads in open countryside. Colour had returned to the world - green was everywhere. Twigs on the branches had changed from black against snow and white sky to bright green against blue (I guess it must be a lichen on the twigs). I felt alive. It felt good to be pushing myself. After the run my legs burned, but it felt great.

K drove us back to their house to pick up my bike and we all had a cup of tea. I was so grateful for their encouragement on the run and for letting me come along and I'd like to train with them as much as I can over the next few months. There are few people who can inspire me to run at just sub-8 min miles over that distance. They have such determination, gentle humour and a positive attitude. I look forward to the next one.

Thoughts on running ... first draft

The most important thing about running (for me) is the way in which it combines the physical with the mental – both in terms of the ‘intellect’ (if that is the right word to describe strategy and focus) and the imagination (visualisation, and dissociation/association from/with the body). This combination of physical and mental is very rewarding and makes you feel like a complete human being.

On the ‘intellect’ side, concentration, focus and accuracy are vital. If you lose your focus on a long race - your goal will slip away. You've got to keep on clocking up the miles at precisely the right tempo. On the ‘imagination’ side, being able to visualise ways to keep you going – for example, imagining the energy of you and your companions combining to carry you forward – is both helpful and somehow in itself exciting. Which brings me to a final point – the social aspect of running. I love running with people and rarely run alone. There’s something primeval about chasing and being chased. It’s slightly edgy, but it’s a buzz. Running as a duo can be fabulous. If you really trust them, some of the required focus can be temporarily offloaded onto your partner when you’re tired, and then you can take over when they need you.

There’s so much more that could be said - perhaps I will keep developing this.

Calderdale Way Relay Part 2: the race

Team A and B leg 5-ers

As the race date of December 13 approached, I felt fairly confident I'd done as much training as I could have in the time available. I'd come a long way since the recce and I was beginning to feel fit again. I'd cut a bit off my October 10k time (it is now 47.17) and shaved a bit off my 5 mile time too (now 36.34 - getting closer to my PB of 35.17). Although my hill training hadn't been great, I'd done at least some, hard, off-road hill running with my team-mate, Leah, and made a couple of the MKAC sessions where I had done comparatively OK. I'd also been keeping up the OURC Fartleks on Tuesday lunchtimes and had even done two sessions of the relentless 800 m efforts around Woughton field (excellent training for the body, as the recoveries are brutally short, and for the mind, as there's nothing but pain to experience)!

I went up a couple of days beforehand to stay with Gary's parents and had a wonderful time being generally fed and cared for. We had a lovely drive out to the Dales, and I bought some last-minute essentials (compass and whistle, which you must have or your whole team may face disqualification)!

On Saturday, Glyn and Janette dropped me off at the team hostel, which was a far cry from the cosiness of Nelmes Towers. After a long trip down a precipitous and snaking mud track, the hostel was found to be a breeze block building with no-one there apart from some grumpy teenagers and a surly youth leader. Eventually we located the key, and opened up the building to find a barren interior. But the place was wonderfully warm, so G and J felt happier leaving me there. Five minutes passed, and Andy, Annick and Julie arrived, muddy and fresh from their recce. They seemed exhilarated and keen for the race the following day. Soon everyone else arrived, and after tea and cake and a little physics we headed off, with torches, to the pub. Dinner took ages but was tasty. Everyone was very sensible and headed back early to bed - but we waited up to cheer Jim Miller in for our team photo.

I slept well, surprisingly (only a baby, regular snuffle-snore from one of my room-mates threatened to disturb me). When Leah and I got up, most people had already set off for the start of their leg ... so we lounged (as far as it was possible) and ate breakfast. We then set off, and parked up at Whinstalls for registration. We knew we were going to have to start with the 'masses' as the MKAC B Team were never going to be fast enough to make the leg 5 cut-off time. Unfortunately, this meant one hour hanging about in an exposed area in the bleak cold. This had its interest, however, as there was plenty to look at and race atmosphere to soak up. Fell runners look amazing. They are really wiry but muscular at the same time, and I was reminded of deers rutting as the men and women whipped off their over-trousers to reveal threateningly muscular, lean legs. I looked a fool in a clown-like hat and brand-new, entirely untested off-road shoes, which, to add insult to injury, were LUMINOUS yellow. There was lots of pre-race chat, which was actually very friendly, despite the threat of clashing antlers.

Anyway, our A team just met the cut-off, which was exciting, and then we, the leg 5 B team, set off with the masses. The rhythm was halting to begin with, as there were probably about 100 starting. The first mile or so was spent running slowly and queuing at stiles (of which there are, apparently, 40 on this 7.5 mile leg)! After that, things spread out quickly and there were few in front and behind. The race is a bit of a blur. I remember some brilliantly fun downhill leaping a couple of miles in, bright sunlight against short green grass and white, dried grass tops, blue-black reflections from the scant road sections and then lots and lots of very deep mud (which absorbs leg energy at every step). I tackled the cobbled hill part of the race heroically, and was proud to run the whole thing - even overtaking a few. However, perhaps it was this immense energy expenditure that led me, about 5 miles in, to rapidly fade. I had also definitely made some serious errors.

• First, I had inadequate hill training.


• Second, I had underestimated how much energy is needed to climb 1500 m. Normally I wouldn't bring food on a short race like this (I only use energy drinks or jelly babies for half marathon and above) but breakfast at 8 and no lunch with a race start at 1 pm meant that I was totally drained at 5 miles.

Leah was immensely encouraging, however, and I somehow dragged my drained body up the final hills. Somewhat distracting, as well, was a couple in possession of a prized baton, who kept overtaking us on the flat (while we overtook them on the hills). With this to focus the mind, and with Leah's rousing words, I found a second wind emerging from within (and it wasn't indigestion). As we arrived on the final road section, I began to realise that I could manage a fast finish. The feet hit welcoming, inflexible tarmac, and I was even beginning to close the gap between me and Leah. I focused the mind again. From the recce, and with Leah's reminding words, I knew I had under a mile so I could easily compartmentalise this into an imaginary 'interval' from my training sessions. I also knew it was mainly flat, so could build up speed without risk. I also had a glimmering notion of tactics. There was a narrow lane at the very finish of the course, so it was crucial that Leah and I entered this together, and before the couple with the baton who had been chasing us. So, with these visions in mind, I set to the challenge, focusing on Leah's pink jacket just ahead. The man with the baton was challenging us - and gave us a focus for our speed, but he couldn't go ahead as he needed to slow down for his partner (both must finish together). So I nipped into the lane before him, with Leah behind, and we funnelled down the final lane. We arrived - elated - to see the Team A leg 5-ers, and some others, waiting for us. It was so nice to see them. Merrian gave me some much-needed energy drink and I sat down thankfully on a welcoming wall. Team A had done the leg in 1.15, and we had done it in 1.24.47, which was about 6 mins faster than our recce. We were pleased.

We put on as many layers as we could and drove to the leg 6 (and race) finish to find most of the rest of our team. We were covered in mud, hungry and exhausted, but the challenge was exhilarating, new, and finished. I felt so pleased to have been part of such an exciting event.



The finish

Runner's high (Mike Spino, 1971)

[With] my first step I felt lighter and looser than ever before. My shirt clung to me, and I felt like a skeleton flying through a wind tunnel. My times at the mile were so fast that I almost felt like I was cheating. It was like getting a new body that no-one else had heard about. My mind was so crystal clear that I could have held a conversation. The only sensation was the rhythm and the beat, all perfectly natural, all and everything and everything part of everything else ... distance, time, motion were all one. There were myself, the cement, a vague feeling of legs, and the coming dusk. I tore on. I could have run and run. Perhaps I had experienced a physiological change, but whatever, it was magic. I came to the side of the road and cried tears of joy and sorrow. Joy for being alive; sorrow for a vague feeling of temporalness, and a knowledge of the impossibility of giving this experience to anyone.

Mike Spino (1971) 'Running as a spiritual experience', in J. Scott (Ed.), The Athletic Revoltion (p. 222) New York, Free Press.

Record of this week's training

Fartlek
Tuesday was the pleasantly-titled 'Fartlek' or 'speed play' session with the OURC. I am not sure whether what we do on a Tuesday is technically fartlek or more properly 'intervals', but we did a set of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 along a 10 k route, with variously timed recoveries. I was pleased with the training - I felt much stronger than the previous week (when I'd also been fighting nausea from a very heavy weekend).

I was able to keep up with some of the faster ones, but I wasn't very consistent. I tended to start off slowly and then try hard in the last minute. It's a good route that we do, with plenty to look at - part of Willen lake and the 'enchanted forest' by the Ouzel on the way back.

Intervals
Today was the (as Mark would put it) murderous 800 m intervals around Woughton Campus field. We had to do eight of these, with sixty-second recoveries. Boy, it was tough. Our first splits were 3 mins, and then 2.58, but then we slipped to 3.05. After that it was very difficult to keep below 3.10. My legs felt very heavy, but the lungs were (relatively) fine. I have so much fitness to build up before December 13, let alone for the London Marathon on April 25. On reflection I think the short recoveries and the sponginess of the grass make this session very hard. It's also much more monotonous. But I feel pleased to have got through it in reasonable splits, and running on grass (if flat) is better training than running on the road for Calderdale.

My last session of the week will be hill running with Leah in the Brickhills - which should do a slightly better job of emulating the hills of Calderdale. We'll try for 1 hour 30 mins I should think - running up and down as many horrible hills we can find.

Hill run
This was much more fun than the relentless field intervals. Leah called for me on Sunday pm and drove us to the woods - Milton Keynes's adult playground (the car park is packed, even early in the morning, with the cars of walkers, runners, mountain bikers, and people who do 'cross-country theatre' in capes and masks, with sticks). Somehow we managed to avoid a deluge and caught the last of the afternoon's yellow sun. Leah took us on a circuit which involved a variety of hills, and we practised splurging through mud without caution, and running downhill over leaves (which can be tricky as you don't know what tree roots etc lurk underneath them).

As we were running, we saw four or five fantastic fly agaric in full bloom, which gleamed out, wet and jelly-like, from plump cushions of brown leaves.

Once we'd done the circuit, we ran over to do the biggest hill we could find - which basically takes you from the level of the road up to the top of the Brickhill Woods mound. We ran down the whole thing, and then ran up. It was terrible - and once again, Leah (despite her week of gruelling training) was way ahead of me. Still, I ran the whole thing and recovered quickly, which is the best I can hope for I guess. Ahh - I'm looking forward to feeling strong in the legs again ... wonder how long it will take.

As I was running I was wondering how Brickhill Woods formed, geologically speaking. Why this lump in the middle of all this flat? Why all the sand, with occasional patches of clay? Is the thing that my friend Hannah found there, a few months ago, a fossil ammonite? I am hopefully about to find out as I'm going to a talk on Milton Keynes's geology tomorrow at Milton Keynes Natural History Society (which I have just joined). This should mesh nicely with my work on Exploring Science (The Open University's Level 1 Science Course). I've just read Book 2 (Earth and Space) which covers some basic geology.

Calderdale Way Relay Part 1: recce

A couple of months ago, I received an email from Milton Keynes AC, my running club, asking for volunteers for the Calderdale Way Relay. This is organised by the Halifax Harriers AC, in the middle of December. It is a relay of 6 legs, run in pairs, over 50 miles of the Calderdale Way. MKAC has sent two teams up to the race every year for several years, but they have never sent up a mixed team. This year, however, enough women signed up to do so. 'Club history', so lovely legs Brian says!

The relay is, in essence, fell running - which I have never done before. I have run the Dunstable 20, on the Dunstable Downs, and the Ridgeway run (Tring AC's 10ish-mile race). These were off road, autumnal, and undulating, but nothing like running in Yorkshire, in the middle of Winter. However, I have been wondering for a while whether I'd be able to tackle more difficult terrain. I like running off road - for the views, the variety and the hopping about. I find it exhilharating (unlike Gary who hated breaking his 'rhythm' and thought it was a recipe for injury)!

The big problem for me with this type of race is navigation. I have absolutely no sense of direction whatsoever. I get lost walking home. If a tree drops its leaves on a route I've learned, I'm scuppered. This is where my friend Leah comes in. Leah is both extremely tough (she is training for an Ironman competition in July next year) and she can tell where she is going. And she has agreed to be my partner for Leg 5. She is also extremely reliable: she'll never cancel a run, even if it is pouring down with rain, and she's always on time. She's brilliant.

So last weekend, we went up to Yorkshire to try out our leg. The Calderdale Way passes just by Gary's parents' house, so I thought it would be a good excuse to drop in on them, and get to know the area in which Gary grew up. We arrived on Saturday after a long, slow drive up the M1, and were immediately sat down in front of lovely hot bowls of soup from Gary's mum, Janette. No sooner had it finished, that Gary's dad, Glyn, whisked me and Leah out in the car to show us the points on the route he'd found (he'd already been doing some detective work during the week and marked up some maps with highlighter). We both got a sense of the terrain and the landscape as we peered through the car windows at the pale yellow winter sun filtering through the low cloud and down over the valleys. Glyn was at pains to let us know that it was hilly, it was muddy, that we were mad. And, what's more, it was hell up north. I was beginning to feel a not inconsiderable amount of trepidation, especially after the threat of a post-run cold hosepipe.

Anyway, we got back home, consulted Leah's map and realised: it was the wrong one for our leg. However, just before we'd left for Yorkshire, I had chanced on a posting on the Halifax Harriers website that stated that a group from their club was planning on recceing the route that very Sunday. At this, Gary's dad sprung into action and called the contact on the bottom of the information sheet. Within minutes, we were invited to tag along with them the following day. This was a Godsend.

The next day was mild, calm and sunny with just a little cloud. This, too, was very lucky as the preceding days had been windy and rainy. After trying on various combinations of layers (somewhat nervously) we set off, with Glyn, to the start. When we arrived at Winstalls there were already several cars lined up along the road by the starting stile. Various beshorted and betree-trunked-thighed invidividuals were warming up. They looked formidable. We hoped they weren't the Halifax Harriers. They were. But luckily, they weren't the group we were going out with. After a couple more car loads of people arrived (from different Northern ACs), our group appeared. Two men (Paul and Mike) and two women (Sharon and Deborah). Hope I have the names right - I am bad with names. Leah and I felt very lucky to have been allowed to accompany them.

I was really quite nervous when I set off, and my breathing was shallow. As we plunged straight into a bog of chilly water, I began to think about how little hill training I had done, how unused I was to rough terrain, and how southern I was. How would I compare? But these fears soon left me as I started to concentrate on my rhythm, and got talking to everyone -the group was so warm, welcoming, friendly and encouraging. They were also very helpful, pointing out where we'd been, showing us the difficult-to-see gaps in the holly and giving us sips of water and tips on how to run in mud up hills.

I must say that it was very difficult to concentrate on where we were going as we needed to look at our feet in order to stay upright. But we tried our best to note all the twists and turns and to take in the stunning views. What is left in my memory is a somewhat blurred but bright impression of the day - with the end of the autumn colours.

Leah ran very strongly up the hills. She was up there with the men. I was in the middle, looking up at her pink jacket in the distance. I didn't perform as well as I could with training - but I kept going, and ran all the way up the three main hills. I think that was a good accomplishment given the amount of training I've done so far. And I was pleased that I was left with some strength at the end. But I must say that I have been trying to work out just how much hill training I can fit in between now and December 13!

The leg took us 1 hour and 30 minutes, and we were picked up by Glyn who took us straight home for a tasty curry that he had cooked up for us, and some of my rather solid banana cake (better heated, I think). Leah and I both really enjoyed the run and felt grateful for all the help we'd had with lifts, food and shelter from Glyn and Janette, and navigation and encouragement from the Halifax Harriers. We're both really looking forward to the race now - but plan to walk the route the day before to refresh our memories.

Blenheim 10k: 25 October 2009

Laura sprints to the finish

Gary's impish mind was consistently whirring to flatter, bully and cajole his friends into accompanying him on various ludicrous exploits. This was very positive for me: it introduced me to a fabulous group of people, brightened my life, and opened up possibilities and adventures which I wouldn't have dreamed up my own. Some of these exploits were full-blown excursions complete with costume and theme, such as the Tour of Buckinghamshire. Others were simple, focused goals aimed to improve body and mind - such as reaching a personal best in the marathon and opening oneself up to the discipline and suffering required for success.

We're all keen to keep doing things together, and very soon after it all happened, Laura suggested that we do a 10k in the majestic surroundings of Blenheim Palace. It was great to have this to look forward to, and although I didn't do nearly enough training, it encouraged me to keep my running ticking over so that I would be fit enough to do a half-decent time.

I suggested we turn up an hour before the race - which was really rather too keen. When me, Julia, Laura, Chris and Matt (another one!) turned up in a taxi we were relieved to see that they had at least finished putting up the portaloos. There were also some lean and hardy types already there, busily greasing up their parts in that shameless way that is suddenly acceptable in a pre-race context. Anyway, this left us more than enough time to pick up our numbers, empty our bladders (several times) and (in my case) gaze blankly at the course map.

I was just savouring the scent of crushed-grass-mingled-with-tent characteristic of the amateur road race when Emma and Matt DJ appeared from the car park, with positive but resigned expressions. They were closely followed by Jackie, who had just flown in from a week-long trip in the States and thus feeling a little weary. The complications of safety pins overcome, we made our way over to the start, after having burdened Chris (our supporter) with our wallets, jumpers and phones.

It was a mild day for October, but a bit breezy, and it was chilly waiting for the start in our variously minimal outfits. To make matters worse, a rather verbose woman insisted on informing us about the race charity. I'm sure the cause was worthy, but we were cold, and we'd paid, hadn't we?! Eventually we were released from the agony. I instantly felt the pressure of the bladder but hoped that somehow the liquid would be reabsorbed into the body and used when I was thirsty. I don't know if this does happen in the human biology, but it should.

So we were off. It was a glorious Autumnal day, and the bright low sun was perfectly positioned to light the red, yellows and browns of the leaves. Not long after the start we crossed the bridge over the lake - an inspiring sight, and a cheery stranger exclaimed to me 'How beautiful! This is fun!' I'd started off slowly, but soon sped up a little, and left the main body of our group. Matt was up ahead and hoping for a time of about 42 or 43 minutes. I was hoping for (at the very least) under an hour.

I really enjoyed the route which went right up to the palace, and skirted the lake (including some nice wooded areas bordering the water). It wasn't a busy race which allowed for plenty of space (which Nina likes) and I love a hilly race. I find that going up the hills occupies the mind, and going down provides an opportunity for speed. As I'd started near the back I had loads of people to pass and I wasn't doing too badly. But I have really lost a lot of stamina - my legs tired half way round and I really struggled towards the end. One feature about this race (which usually I would curse) is that two sections doubled up (so you could see faster runners coming back as you were going up). In this case I liked it because I spotted most of the group either ahead or behind me and was able to wave! This kept the mind off the feeble legs.

I managed a reasonably fast finish and was able to hold off a couple of stealthy sprinting males (the kind who, previously passed by you, creep up in revenge at the finish line). I then rejoined Matt and Ben (who had finished in about 43 and 58 minutes respectively) to cheer the others in. Everyone finished really strongly - Laura got a PB and beat several keen competitors! Jonathan, who was sadly unable to race due to a clinging virus, took a photo to prove it, and got nearly all of us crossing the line.

After we'd caught our breaths we met up with Rich who'd cycled all the way from Kings Sutton. We then popped into a local pub ON THE A44 JUST NORTH OF WOODSTOCK (as we kept having to tell the (lost) taxi driver on our return). We may or may not have usurped another party's table, but we enjoyed a series of tasty roasts. How satisfying it is to stuff oneself after strenuous activity! We ate heartily and discussed our various approaches to the race.

Laura was well pleased with her PB, and recce of Blenheim (which will be the site of her debut triathlon next June). Jackie had got round in an admirable time with just one run in a year and jet lag fatigue. The new Matt was pleased with his time given the hills and wind. Emma and Matt's knees had held out, and the only obvious injury was a slight scratch to an ankle in a discreet dive into the bushes. Chris hadn't run off with our credit cards and kept mumbling something about 'getting into training seriously'. Julia had survived brilliantly on minimal training, and her appetite for tea, which was flagging worryingly the previous day, had returned. And Nina was well trained for her Argentinian 15 k 'fun run' in the Andes.

I had a wonderful time, Laura, thank you.