'Blimey, its Blisco'

 

After 6 months of denial, I have bought a set of new scales. The last ones were a little unsteady. Unreliable scales are a waste of space. Over the late winter and spring, I put my generous body shape down to swimming twice and, occasionally, three times a week. There was not much running mileage going on and this was coupled with creeping biscuit and beer intake. Fair enough, I had some reasonable race results, but most (or all of them) were off road, where placings tend to be of more interest than times.

As I gingerly mounted the sleek glass 'speak your weight' machine, it just spluttered and said 'you're having a laugh, fat boy...put that cake down.....welcome to this years slimmers club'.  

It was no wonder that I struggled up Blisco Pike on Saturday at the UK fell running championships. It was so steep that I didn't bother to look up to check out who the various runners were who were passing by on the ascent. It was so steep that I didn't even bother to look back or look around to take in the stunning scenery of the North Lakes. What a tedious slog.

My first mile along the rising tarmac was around 9 minutes, but in this short steep (AS classification) event of 4.5miles, my second mile came in at 26 minutes. The last wee bit to the top was a scramble up a couple of rocky outcrops and I nearly got my fingers stood on by the guy in front as he faltered trying to get his grip. It took 40 minutes to the summit, a 2000ft rise. 

At the top, I clambered around the ridge trying to work out a reasonable line downhill, I wondered if I still had Snowdon in my legs, having spent last week wandering around with Doms. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised. With the sun shining after a grim wet morning I tried to make a fist of it on the descent and went hammer and tongs at it against a Mercia Runner called Mark (or at least thats the name his supporters were shouting). He took the grass, I was on the path, but it was too little, too late and while I got him on the lower slope, he caught me later on the tarmac. It was 13th M60 and just over the hour at the line. Looking at the finishers, I might have been 4th-6th possibly, although I accept these short steep hills and scrambles are not my forte. 

Anyway, yesterday was a 10 miler and with another 6 miler today and a swim booked for later, the flab fightback has begun. I've a 10k this weekend which will make a pleasant change.  Get those calories burnt. On the book front I easily made my way through 'The Restraint of Beasts' by Magnus Mills, a short quirky delight. But its on to 'Dispatches' by Michael Herr, a sobering read about 60's Vietnam.   

Ras Yr Wydffa

With the Snowdon Mountain Race shortened last year, Mrs Mac developed a deep seated desire to complete the full 9.5 miler after her initial 2023 taster. Speedy was privileged to get a call up for the Scottish Team and I was voted as best driver for the intended trip, and, strangely, I also found my name down on the entry list. 

Mrs Mac hasn't managed much training in recent weeks so, in preparation, we rocked up last week to a local low key trail race. We hadn't pre-entered but I was assured that there were entries on the line. It was 17 quid for UKA members; 19 for others. It was a warm muggy evening as we approached the organisers table. We had our names and ages taken and received our numbers. 'That'll be 40 quid please' advised the young lady as she looked up. I looked a little nonplussed, then inquired why the inflated charge. There seemed little debate and that's what she wanted, I think because that was the 'enter on the line' charge. However, for some reason, I bridled at this rampant runflation and handed my number back. Mrs Mac considered the developing situation, and then, to my relief, handed hers back. The scene reminded me of the advert where the bloke tries to buy onions, only for the vendor to say that he only accepts crypto currency.  What a load of Malarkey.

We went instead back home via a chip shop and pub where we enjoyed the life of Joe Public for an hour and spent some, but not all, of the 40 quid the run was going to cost us.  I admit, chip shop and pubs are not destinations that any self respecting athlete should be frequenting, but my self respect is a little down in the polls right now and, anyway, a 'bonding' session is a term used routinely for this sort of deviancy, is it not? 

With 800 extra calories on board, our small troop took off at 9.30am on Friday and we made our way to Llanberis. We arrived just before four in the afternoon and the sun was high, the mighty slate mountains looking down on us as we let ourselves in the end of terrace cottage we had booked for the 2 days. It was right on the course along the road that leads up to Yr Wyddfa, all 3500ft of it. After unpacking, it was a steady 4 mile shake down along the lake followed by a short refreshment and pasta. The forecast for the next day was bleak for July, but not apocalyptic with steady rain but light southerly winds and we were hopeful that we would get to run the full race course. 

We rested on Saturday morning, letting our porridge and bananas settle, before picking our numbers and t- shirts up at a local church. Speedy was no 13 and I recommended she wore the number upside down. However, she's not superstitious (at least with regards to that number) and we wandered back to the cottage for a last minute cuppa as the crowds and air of anticipation began to rise. 

A light drizzle had arrived as expected as we warmed up next to the start, Mrs Mac picking up a new lightweight waterproof at Pete Blands stall in last minute prep for the start. My experience last year (where I found out it was gun time that counted at the finish line and not chip time) meant that, this year, I was starting as close to the start line as possible and we were soon off, the international runners streaking away in front. 

The steepest sections of the race are the first mile and the fourth, and I knew I had to work hard to get up the hill in good time in order to take advantage of the long runnable descent. I was sitting behind an irish runner and kept close to a bloke from Horwich. He kept walking-jogging and this reflected my 'style'. He might have also been M60 so I didn't want to let him go. There was water on the course at two water stations and even though I was completely saturated, it was welcome. 

We moved higher up the hill and soon the paths had become rivulets of brown gravelly water. There were, as ever, loads of walkers peppered about the place. What a treat for them. Four hundred mental runners coming at them from all angles. Soon enough the leaders started tearing down past us and Speedy looked like she was doing well. I got past Horwich man near the top and rounded the turn with the Irish runner. I hoofed on then down the hill, passing an ascending Mrs Mac who had beaten the cut-off. On the long descent I managed to pick off a good handful of runners which is excellent for morale. 

Ant gave me a shout near the bottom and that spurred me on but it seemed a long way down. However, it only took 30 minutes and I hit the tarmac with little reserve but determination to avoid getting caught on the mile run-in to the finish. Irish girl came past easily as gravity reverted to normal, but she was not in my age group and I gritted my teeth for 1:38 on the line and, as it turned out, 1st M60. I was convinced that the phenomena that is Bingley's Ian Holmes would have been 1st, but he's still in his late 50's. He still managed 1.22. Speedy finished 9th (again), a great result considering her episode of lurgy a fortnight ago. 

 

We opted to go to the presentation and, in doing so, missed Mrs Macs glorious return. It was raining heavily at this point, but there was no sign of her new waterproof..... 'Keeping it for good?!' 

It was a 30 quid token for the race and a free curry in the evening. .

Note to self: don't drink beer immediately after eating red onions. Taste buds all over the place. 

All in all a decent weekend.  

I'm in Aberfeldy next month for a friends meet-up. In browsing the race programme for races, I came across the Kenmore trail race on the Friday evening. Six miles. Ideal. The price? Thirty five notes. Give us a break!

      

Hit and Mist: Bottoms Up Cup

Training for Snowdon this coming weekend has been a bit hit and miss, what with work and this blidy rain getting in the way of my leisure activity. I had 2 days work near Lewes on the south coast this week. The work was ok, but the driving was truly awful. The A1 and roads all around Peterborough were jammed up going down and the M1 was almost all 50 mile-an-hour road works all the way to Sheffield. Eight hours down and nearly as much on the return trip. 

I watched Parkrun on Saturday and, in the afternoon, Speedy and I took off to run/shuffle up Scald Law and the Cheviot. It's a 3 mile ascent of 2000ft; not huge or greatly steep, but short of going north or west, we're a bit limited around these parts for big hills. We got soaked and nearly lost as the clag descended as we ascended and on the way down we took the wrong path in the thick swirling mist and rain. We retraced our steps, found the right path and I was happy to get dry gear on after 80 minutes in the rainy wilds of July. No prizes for being a mountain rescue statistic.

Later, I was skimming the events page of running events and I noticed a 5km Bottom Up trail race on Sunday morning at Washington, which is about half an hour from us. 

We duly loaded up on Sunday Morning and got down early to buy a 'enter on the day' special. Thirteen notes. Around 120 lined up for this rock around the park and urban woods affair. The dark destroyer was their with Barns the dog in support. 

The start was seriously narrow and there was a bike sportive coming through in the opposite direction. Coupled with wet and slippy conditions, I tried to get the start moved 60 yards further up, but the organiser was happy to tell me that they were looking at this for next year, but just not today. Thankfully no one got flattened, but it wasn't very clever. 

After a fast start, I settled into a good pace. I could still see Speedy ahead after a mile but the twisty-turny nature of the course as it weaved its way around the park and wooded corridors and underpasses left me disorientated and around 2 miles I lost a couple of places on two small clicks where I slowed, and the passing youngsters powered on up. I kept them in my sights and at 6.45pace, with a final spurt of 5.45 for the finishing straight, I finished 13th. 

It was a nice wee cup and 50 bangers for Speedy as first lady and several cups of tea and a square of carrot cake for me. I was first m50/m60 and enjoyed the event. Ok, not the best field, but so what. The sinuous nature of the course occupied my brain. Staying upright on my posh trainers as we traversed greasy tarmac and soft gravel stretches took my mind off the hard graft I was putting in. Finished in 21:10 in the end.  

The published results initially omitted the names and details of all those who entered on the day, but after I texted someone, it was sort of amended. Given that the winners of both male and female races were enter on the day, it was the least they could do. However, on the day a great wee club event and recommended. 

https://www.trailoutlaws.com/event_results/bottoms-up-cup-results-2024

       

Black Rock, Eildon, Benarty Triple Lock

Its been a fortnight of exertion. Sometimes the best way to get fit is just to race. They say 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'. I don't know who 'they' are (someone said Nietzsche), and I am certain that what doesn't kill you could still cause appreciable damage. I never regarded it as a truism, but never had the energy or mental capacity to challenge the ditty. 'Misery loves Company'..there's another one. Anyway, it was, of course, the Black Rock 5 at Kinghorn which was attended by 1200 runners in their plummage and old trainers. Great fun and very wet this year. I had my adidas long-shorts on and they clung to me as they became wet. This had me looking down more than once to check I was still actually wearing the shorts. 

Speedy got some poundage for 2nd place, but nothing for moi, other than sand in my pants and a half an hour wait and 30 bangers at the fish in chip shop. You can't help your chin falling when the guy in front of you orders 14 fish suppers. They did famous business at the chipper.  A couple of pints later and I fell into the tent. 

Saturday arrived and it warmed up as we took Marg and Ant to the Lochore parkrun in the morning and dined famously at the park cafe on sausage rolls and hot drinks. It's a great venue for outdoor sports. 

Afterwards we drove to Melrose for the Eildon 3 Hills Race. I was nut-bushed after a disturbed sleep the night before and found myself a park bench for half an hours kip in the sun. There was a good turnout at the Gala Harriers event and after getting counted into the pen we were sent on our way. I wanted to stay close to Keith Murray of Teviotdale, but as we ascended I was baulked on the narrow heather track by a group of Saltwell Harriers who had come over the border in their red and white strips for some sun and sarsaparilla. 

At the top of the first hill it was all go and I passed 4 pretty quickly on the gravel toward the 2nd hill which is only a wee one. I pushed on, unhindered, to the third hill and descended on the main path passing a Gala blokey and Keswick lady and began catching the Teviotdale runner whom I spied ahead.  However, the gap was still around 15 seconds and I made little inroads. He told me later he was chasing Carnethys Gilmore who was a little way ahead of him and won the M60. Speedy won her race after a crisp performance and collected more poundage and a trophy that needs a good clean. The recce last month deffo helped.

This weekend was a local parkrun on the Saturday where my time came down again and is, at last, beginning to look respectable. The Sunday came and there was only Me and Mrs Mac making our way up to the Benarty Trail Race, a Brian Cruickshank production at Lochore (again!). Speedy was down with the lurgy and Ant was doing the lemsips. 

With a field of around 90, it was just under 5 miles and I held onto 5th place until the end of the 2nd mile. However as we dived into the woods and up yon big hill, I couldn't find the wattage, the heart rate was maxed out and a posse of 3 young pretenders cruised past.  I made no impression on the curving descent but tracked them all the way back to the finish for 8th place and 1st m60. It was apparently the ARC Scottish trail race championships, so I got an extra medal and 2 cans of Tetleys, which made me feel like a Champion!  

On the way back we peeled off for a cafe stop at Rankins in North Queensferry and afterwards it was back down the road. All and all full on busy. 

There are two different types of people in the world. Those that want to know and those that want to believe and those that want to run...oh, that's three then. I think I'll leave it there.