So quick bright things come to confusion

I’ve done my last long run now so along with all the other marathon trainers I need a taper. This marathon training seems very strange; what would I want with an odd-toed ungulate? Doing a long slow run today seemed like a good idea before I set off. The legs were feeling less fatigued that at any time since East Hull, the weather forecast said rain and wind from tomorrow and everyone else seems to have run their last long run at the weekend. So, having listened to Liz and David (and Emma via David) I decided that a run along the canal from Silsden would be a fine way to finish my endurance training. My plan was to run an out and back, turning round somewhere between 10 and 12 miles from Silsden. Within the first couple of miles I’d decided that this would be at 10 miles as the running wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be. It’s not as if I was trying to go too quickly as I settled into a nine minute mile pace at the start and didn’t deviate from this the whole way. I guess I’d run hard on Sunday and I wasn’t as recovered from that as I thought I was. I looked for distractions all the way, but there wasn’t much variety; perhaps it was one of those rare occasions when the ipod would have come in useful.

Still, it’s done now – twenty miles in three hours. Finished with a raging thirst. Partly slaked this with a pint of shandy (don’t laugh) in the Bridge Inn in Silsden. One of the distractions along the way was imagining what would be my beverage of choice in each of the numerous canal-side hostelries between Silsden and Shipley. Just my bad luck that the one in Silsden is a pub dying on its arse. Great selection of hand pulled ales (but I don’t drink beer) and absolutely nothing else going for it. That’s not just my opinion either as the place was deserted. Was sorely tempted by the ice cream barge in Saltaire, but it was doing a roaring trade and I couldn’t wait in the queue.

Unless I’m totally confused by the concept of the taper (again) I believe I can just lounge around on the sofa eating buns and just rock up on marathon day. Can’t wait.

An improbable fiction

I’ve had a busy morning; not only did I run a 10 mile race, but while running it I may well have stumbled on key information that will clear up a mystery that has baffled the authorities and the British public since 30th December 1993. At around mile three and a half I made an unconfirmed sighting of Archie Brooks who many people think died in the Beckindale Air Disaster of that date. Of course his body was never recovered and ever since there has been feverish speculation as to what happened to Emmerdale Farm’s only worthwhile character (sorry Tony, but it’s true). The bugger came loping past me bold as brass. I didn’t have the oomph to set off after him and confront him with the evidence as I’d started a bit too quick and had just climbed the only significant gradient on the run. Perhaps others on the run saw him and can confirm my sighting?

One of the side effects of running at various speeds slower than normal is that I no longer recognise the group of people that run at the same pace as me. This is a handicap as with no specific time to go for I like to just join in at the appropriate pace set by familiar runners. I’d decided that a 70 minute run would be OK, but I’d like to go a wee bit faster. The only way I’m going to achieve this is to either run with someone or race against someone.

I’d bumped into Mick before the start and the 65 minutes he was aiming for was going to be too quick for me so I tucked in behind him on the starting line and thought if I kept him in sight then he’d gradually pull away and I’d get round in a good time. Within the first couple of hundred yards that plan is scuppered as he’s away and I’m involved in a mad scramble with a large group. I run the first two miles at 65 minute pace and Mick is so far ahead I can’t see him. A little way ahead of me is a guy with a pony tail who I’m fairly certain finishes races at about the same time as me. He looks at his watch at two miles and picks the pace up. I slow my pace down and settle in behind Liz Wood who stormed past me in the closing stages at Trimpell. James sidles up alongside me; he’s also aiming for 65 minutes but with a negative split. He’s soon away and I spot Frank a couple of hundred yards up ahead and decide to let Liz Wood take me forward, but it’s not working. Frank is just as far ahead at mile 4 as he was the previous mile. I pick up the pace and find myself behind Leopard-Skin-Bra Lady. Go through mile five in 33:30 and we’ve caught up to Pony Tail Boy but we’re no nearer Frank. I push on again and go past him just after mile six. I’ve nobody familiar to run against now, but it’s OK as it’s one of those races where you run up the road as the faster runners run down it. This provides a great distraction looking out for people I know. I see everyone I know who’s in the race but somehow miss Archie Brooks; perhaps someone else has recognised him and he’s had to make a hasty exit.

The last two miles feel tough but are downhill. I’m dragged along by a couple of blokes from the same club who are racing each other and hanging onto them is a good distraction from thinking about how much the legs hurt.

A sharp left and a sprint for the finish and it’s job done in a chip time of 1:07:10.

This other Eden, demi-paradise

I’ve not felt much like running this week so decided to take myself off for a long walk yesterday. The three peaks, but with a cunning twist. I decided I wanted to avoid the long slog across Black Dub Moss that lies between Pen y ghent and Whernside. It’s the least interesting bit of the walk and in weather like we’ve had recently, the only bit where proper walking boots are required. After consulting my Bradshaws it was clear that if I got my timing right, I could “do” Pen y ghent and return to Horton to catch the 9.58 train to Ribblehead. There were several unknowns in the plan including time spent dicking around before setting off and on arrival, the number of slow moving vehicles on the A65 to hamper the drive to the start and the timings for getting up and down Pen y ghent.

I slept longer than planned and was only held up by one slow moving vehicle (trailer delivering hay – Skipton to Hellifield). This gave me sufficient time to worry about whether I was going to be underdressed as the temperature gauge headed steadily downwards.

I parked up at Horton at 7.45 and it was a bit of a route march round Pen y ghent going up the accepted three peaks route and returning on the Pennine Way route. I had 15 minutes to spare to wait at Horton station, by which time it was clear that I was overdressed and it would have been advisable to pack the sunscreen. I must have worn out the sunscreen-responsibility gene by slavering the kids up with factor one million when they were bairns. I’d thought about it before setting off and concluded that only an idiot would take sunscreen for a walk in the north of England in March. Besides, I couldn’t find the sunscreen. Every winter we pack away our supply of sunscreen and by Spring we can’t remember where we’ve put it so buy a new tube. At least twice a summer we get somewhere and look expectantly at each other and one of us says “I thought you were packing the sunscreen” and end up buying another couple of tubes. At the end of every summer I spot a bargain and buy a reduced price tube. When I eventually find our sunscreen it’s like a trip down memory lane with a bewildering selection of half full (half empty?) tubes.

I got back to the car at 3.45 having scaled the remaining two peaks, consumed two litres of tap water, three Mars bars, four clementines and a generous portion of cold chilli con carne and rice (the ambrosia of the walking gods). I’d supplemented this with a pint of ice cold Thatcher’s Gold at the Old Hill Inn. I’d thought long and hard about the nature of genius (at least three minutes) and had at first concluded that the inventor of Zip Offs was the greatest inventor of the 20th century. I wavered later on when considering the inventor of the Spork, but held firm to my earlier conclusion. I tried to do some of that Communing with Nature bollox, but found that nature wasn’t very forthcoming. You see a very restricted range of birds and animals in the wilds and the only ones doing any communing were the frogs. There were zillions of them in all the little ponds communing away like crazy. If there’s a national shortage of frogs then I can confirm they’re all up Whernside having a great time. I saw my first butterfly of the year (small tortoiseshell) and was treated to some stunt flying by some loon in a WWII aeroplane. I spoke to one miserable old git (“I remember when you had to wade through bogs to get here. You could climb Ingleborough in your carpet slippers nowadays”) but saw remarkably few people all day. Although not the full three peaks, I still managed to walk over twenty one miles and climb 6,800 feet.

I have no idea whether my jaunt will have enhanced or damaged my marathon performance; I suspect it will have no effect whatsoever. It was a bloody good day though.

Go home, And show no sign of fear.

Four weeks to go and everything seems to be coming together for getting to the starting line in reasonable nick. I’ve certainly got running distance on roads at about the same time on a Sunday as the London marathon ingrained. I ran my third twenty mile race on successive Sundays at East Hull and for the third time everything went more or less according to plan. I was aiming for 8 minute miles for as long as possible and then going for a burst at the end just to see if I could pick the pace up. Got caught up in the hurly burly at the start and found myself alongside Michael Hern from Pudsey Pacers. He was aiming to run the first five at 7:45, then the next five at 7:30, the third five at 7:15 and the final five as fast as possible. That was too swift for me, but tagged along with him for the first five, which seemed to go in no time. I slowed it down a bit and then fell in behind a group of three who were running at about 8 minute pace and chatting away quite happily. They provided a useful windbreak for the section of the course when the wind picked up and was coming straight at us. I pushed on for the final four miles and came in at 2:36:19 according to my Garmin.

Preparation for the Sunday run was less than ideal again. I ran a little faster at parkrun than was sensible and then hung around to cheer on the kids who were running 2k in the park. A dash across the Pennines for lunch and back for the live performance of Frankenstein’s Wedding at Kirkstall Abbey. For those of you not used to performing live on national TV, I can confirm that it’s not as glamorous as you might think and there’s a load of hanging around. We were standing around for four hours gradually getting colder with the bar, food and toilet facilities inaccessible. If I’d put on an overcoat, packed the hip flask and borrowed a colostomy bag then it would have been an excellent evening as the event itself was top class. It really was a marvellous night for a moondance. A fish supper from Midgeley’s was probably not a feature of anybody’s list of how best to prepare for a twenty mile run, but we were famished.

So where have my three twenty mile races got me? I know I can run twenty miles and not die. From Trimpell, I know I can run twenty miles at faster than marathon pace. From Spen I know I can run twenty four miles at nine minute miles and have plenty left for the remaining 2.2 miles. Nothing much new from East Hull, but the knowledge that I can overcome my in-built Yorkshireness and eschew the free Lucozade gels (which are truly horrible) for the bought-with-hard-earned-money Torq gels (which are delicious). I can highly recommend both the Rhubarb & Custard and the Black Cherry Yorghurt flavours. They also do Strawberry Yoghurt, Orange & Banana, Forest Fruits (with Guarana) and Banoffee (with Guarana). I have no idea what Guarana is, but I’ll give it a try.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank

I rounded off training this week with a moonlight run on Otley Chevin expertly organised by Nikos. We parked up at the Shawfield Plantation car park and met with between twenty and thirty other runners and organisers. The run was two laps and pretty straightforward with minimal turns. The “supermoon” wasn’t obvious at the start as we were in the trees with only small patches of ground lit up by our headtorches. Running in the dark is strangely discumbobulating – had no real idea of pace, just tried to hang onto the runner ahead. So, maybe not that different from running in the daylight then.
As we took the first right turn and ran up into a clearing it was breathtaking, and not just because of the steepness of the slope either. How can I have lived for 54 years and not known that the orbit of the moon is not circular? This weekend the moon is closer to Earth than that it has been in more than 18 years and the biggest full moon of 2011 will occur on Saturday. Not sure why I can’t remember those big moons of eighteen years ago – oh yes, tortured by broken sleep patterns, smelly nappies and Barney, that might explain it. I’ve learnt a new word too – “perigree”; the point in its orbit that the moon is closest to Earth.
Personally, I felt comforted by the presence of a big fat moon in the sky and the light it shone on my path. No bad moon rising or worries of anything ill met by moonlight here, but not so when we got back into the trees again. The downhill section was decidedly tricky and taken very cautiously by me.
I hope that any obstacles in the way of this becoming a regular parkrun can be cleared as it certainly provides something different from city parks. I could probably trundle along a bit faster in daylight too. Nikos mentioned a possible midnight run, which sounds like a fine idea. Let’s swim to the moon, let’s climb through the tide …..

On the windy side

I don’t suppose anybody goes to Cleckheaton for the health giving climate or to take the waters or expecting anything other than miserable weather. Certainly it had rained on all three occasions that I’ve run here in the last year. No surprise then to get there on Sunday for the Spen 20 and find wind and rain.

I was running with Tom who wanted to run twenty four 9 minute miles as part of his preparation for the Comrades race in South Africa in May. This fitted in very nicely with my plans to build up mileage and to reduce speed. We’d run just over three miles on the track before the runners were called to order so when the race started we more or less churned out twenty nine-minute miles. Whilst getting round twenty miles is always going to be hard work, this was probably the easiest way to do it. We chatted to various runners (everyone seems to know Tom) and stopped for a leisurely cup of water or two. Made a nice change from the usual frantic dash with little opportunity for conversation and the madness of the drinks station where half the liquid gets spilled on the ground and half of what’s left gets slopped onto your shirt. Passing the water stations was a bit like one of those Scooby Doo cartoons where they’re constantly going past the same bit of background. On the face of it, there were three water stations, but in reality it was the same one three times.

I set off in hat and gloves as it was still chilly and drizzling, but soon ditched these (oops, sorry Kev). The sun broke through, but not in a “where’s the sunscreen” kind of way. It turned into a very pleasant morning and a fine day for a run. Despite the slower than normal pace, it still felt tiring towards the end and if there had been the need for a change of pace, then I may not have been able to find another gear (except reverse). It was very hilly, but with no need to hurry I really can’t remember any specific hill. The 0.8 of a mile we did after finishing the race (to take us to 24 miles) was a bit of a stretch, but at least it was on the flat.

If you’re looking for a step up in distance in a race environment prior to a Spring marathon then I’d recommend Trimpell over this race. If you’ve already got your confidence and you’re looking for a really stern test then this race would provide one. Although they can’t guarantee good weather, this was a well-organised race and just as friendly as the other three races I’d been to at Cleckheaton/Robertown/Liversedge or wherever we were.

The memento is certainly unique – I thought it was an ash tray at first, but is a small engraved plaque. Pride of place in the trophy cabinet then (small cardboard box in the garage).

To bed, to bed, to bed

This has been an exhausting weekend. I’m cream crackered. Training this week stayed on track despite a hamstring twinge on my long run last Sunday. I went to club training on Tuesday evening and after a tentative start was able to give it a good go at the intervals session. I’m really looking forward to getting back to the park on lighter evenings and running the 1km intervals. Ran 10 miles in just short of eighty minutes on Thursday with no ill effects. Had a massage on Friday when Tony reported heavy bruising on the left hamstring and a very tight right hamstring. On the Saturday morning I was torn between taking an easy parkrun and giving the hamstring a bit of a testing. I ended up running a little faster than was sensible, but again the hamstrings were ok. I really enjoyed the events that Tom/Leeds Uni put on with the paralympian athletes, really humbling, uplifting and inspiring. Pity the weather didn’t do its bit.

Today was the Trimpell 20 and it turned out to be a perfect day with warm sunshine, though a bitter wind when clouds skipped across the sun. Mick Hogan kindly agreed to keep me company. He’s not running a marathon this year, but is supporting Dawn in her bid for London glory, so he wasn’t committed to running at any particular pace. Having decided to run at about my intended London Marathon pace of 7:30 I went off a little too quickly and was three minutes up at the half way mark. The second half was a lot tougher than the first and I seemed to really struggle, but came back at marathon pace and held onto the three minute gain from the first half. I was really surprised at this as it felt like I was running on half-chewed Thornton’s Special Toffee for the last five miles. I dropped maybe fifteen places in the last five miles, so there must have been a good few negative splits in there to compensate for my “run of two halves”.

The body felt pretty much ok once I stopped running except for my feet. These feel like Mr Shifter has parked his piano on my feet and wandered off for several mugs of PG Tips. Time to take the weight off my feet and sleep the sleep of the righteous.