Back in the hills

 It was a double-bubble weekend as some would say. It wasn’t my idea, but Speedy Joe has been directing traffic in the running calendar this year, her with the horn-rimmed tortoise shell half frame sunnies, big megaphone in hand and perched in the folding fabric chair with lattice legs (not hers, the chair). I think I am the Watson to her Sherlock, or more like it, the Porky pig to her Daffy Duck.

She suggested that Sundays rearranged Simonside Cairns might be do-able even though there was the final cross country league race the day before at Alnwick. The Cairns race is a formidable 11 miler with 1500ft of ascent and more boggy ground than my wee potato patch on a cold wet day in January. I concluded that if I took Alnwick easy, I could still have ‘something’ left in my legs for Simonside.  I was just not sure what that ‘something’ was. The forecast wasn’t bad, but it still represented an exacting moil. I am well out of hill running practice. My heart has shrunk over the last 5 years to the size of a pea and my legs are no longer capable of the quickstep, not that they ever were. While I’m on the subject of off-road-running, its such a shame the Scottish Hill Racing site has folded. A great wee facility it was.

Anyway, at Alnwick, I babysat the wee man for half an hour while Speedy J. cracked the whip around the 2 laps of the Womens race at Alnwick.  She ran well as did Linds and Mrs Mac. The men’s race was 3 laps and I set off in the slow pack and took it steady, measuring my effort. There was a cold northerly as we ran and I had forgotten my gloves so gesticulated wildy as I finished the first lap, waving my hands around to our lot like a loon. Sure enough, I was handed a pair of gloves after the second lap by which time the wind had dropped a touch and I had warmed up. I had to stop twice to tie my laces, which was further confirmation that I hadn’t prepared properly for the event and I waltzed around the 3^rd lap to finish somewhere, not first and not last.  I dressed expeditiously afterwards in the cold wind and got back home sharpish, mindful that Sundays extravaganza would be a much longer, tougher and probably a lonelier affair. 

 

I read that hills and even gentle inclines can improve glutes and leg muscles and are good for a high calorie burn. Who comes up with this guff? Flogging yourself around the wet heather, trying to keep up with two complete strangers and then chucking yourself off Simonside Ridge at nearly 60 in order to win a box of wine gums comes into the category of a near death experience or utter buffonery; or at least that’s what it felt like as I lay on my bed later on Sunday evening being over- tired. I think the common parlance is 'exhausted'. 

 No matter, 10^th place it was (out of 35) and I was happy enough to beat Carnethy man who followed my lead and stopped periodically midway and toward the end of the race to take snaps. I had initially got the camera out after 2 miles, but then gasping like a fish out of water, decided that was enough. 

At the finish in central Rothbury, Speedy Joe had finished around 2 or 3 minutes ahead of me, but she had to wait 3 or 4 minutes for the runner behind in order to find which way to go when confronted with a unsigned fork in the road. 

It was a blidy hard workout but good value for a tenner and the tea and buns in Rothbury Hall for the competitors was welcome.  I think we all got a prize.

It’s the Yeavering to Wooler trail run on Sunday. Seven miles of St Cuthberts Way. The forecast is good, so it should be very pleasant. Roll on the long nights.