Runner Wanderings

Onions

2012-02-12T18:11:00.003Z

I'm sitting here eating a baked onion straight out the oven and burning my tongue into submission. What price a late dinner?!
Decided to turn out and run yesterdays north east cross country league. The venue at Wrekenton, Gateshead is an old colliery and spoil heap thats not been fully reclaimed and being on top of a hill its quite exposed so the ground was solid. Icy in places. There was virtually no wind though, which was a saving grace and once you warmed up, not a bad day out at all. Around 250 of us set off in the slow pack. My aim was to get through the event in one piece. Problems of running lethargy and lack of energy over the last fortnight have been put down to a bug and although feeling abit more energised, I'm still way off the form. I have got a packed calendar though (at least in my head) and so trogged around the course with no distinction but nevertheless, mission accomplished.

Today was better. I had planned a 50 mile ride and did just that, albeit 35 miles were courtesy of the Northumbrian Tri Club who I bumped into early on in the ride and tagged along with. Seem like a good crowd. We took in a few of the Simonside climbs but nothing too demanding and I finished off the ride on my own through a couple of the coastal colliery towns. Hope that the form continues to build this week. The forecast's improving.

I've just stuck in another onion in foil to join the roast in the oven. Why not? -there's plenty of room in there

Plod

2012-02-06T08:10:00.001Z

It looks like it could be quite a sizeable week in terms of mileage with 44 on the clock already since Thursday. Saturdays run was crisp, scenic and the 3 of us got round the 18 miles and 2500ft of hills in a little under 2.25 while the snow held off. Yesterday my legs were a bit stiff and it was a plod of 6.5m through the woods and around the fields late on. There was around an inch of snow in places but its pretty much gone now from here although there's plenty of ice around. Need to keep this momentum going for the weekend and see how we get on.

Boxhead

2012-02-03T21:44:00.001Z

I felt like a bag of tatties last night when we ran roundthe town and then spanked a few 2 minute efforts into the evening. Shocking really. Maynot be able to show my face. I’ve definitelyregressed this last fortnight and the only real difference is a return to theworld of snack and the increase in bikemiles. Maybe the old carcass can’t cope with the change. I can’t remember thelast time I used that word. Regressed.Like ‘Altered States.’ Saw it in the early 80’s. Enjoyed it – another Ken Russellextravaganza. It's good. Watch it...
I donned many layers ofclothes to protect my fragile frame from the freezing frigid fist that’s grabbed the tail end of Winter,even after we thought we’d got off scot-free. Today’s run was around the town again when Imanaged 4 on my own before another 8 miles with the lads, all scarfs, doublegloves and hats and larger than life with an accumulation of layers. FlourescentMichelin men on the road in a haze of self generated clouds of vapour and breath.
I had a race free January despite my broken promise to salvage themonth late on. Have to be philosophical though; Can't be up there every season. It would be athletically myopicto drive the 3 hours to Forfar this weekend when I can’t even get going in training. So, back to the gym, back to the drawingboard to plan where we go from here. Having just finished Nile Rodgersautobiography I can be found mentally on every street corner thumbing my base and doin ‘thathang’. Yousa, Yousa....

Rosedale Chimney Awaits

2012-01-26T22:59:00.000Z

My success this month has been pretty modest.Most of the training has been run off road at Twilight. Lots of hungry wildlife around. I managed to remember that entries to the Coastal run were open and got my namein. I did the race a while ago and it was a blast. I’ve also entered the CaptainCook Sportive; 94 miles including Rosedale Chimney. Oops. Bit rash but who won't slow on the gradient for a SC Gothic fashionista. My old hilly stomping ground. I can't fail.

Come across Edamame soya beans? 40% protein, 21% carb, 14%fibre and 21% fat with a pinch of salt and sunflower oil. Got them at thesupermarche. Super recovery foodstuffthingy. Taste? - You try them and see. Lets face it, they're not going to be as good as carrot cake and a cuppa after 10 miles.

Finally I deduced that the new velo what I bought had itstyres pumped up to 130psi by the bike shop man. I have ridden bikes for 20 yearsquite happily with 60psi on board. What’s it like living in an inner tube with120psi around your ears. There’s no need. Its excessive. Swaggering sort of pressure. God knows if Ipuncture at that pressure I might end up joining the Northern Lights. Natural Yogurt?Yes, that's good as well. It’s just cheese that hasn’t made the effort.

There’s really no chance that January will be my first racefree month. Nursing a knee that won’t admit it’s getting all the besttreatment, I need to be doin a race. My reliable training run of 8 miles through Bothal woods and across the top fields has according to the Garmin been 6.5 miles. Better add a bit.

I’ve got a busy February planned and thenwhen Spring erupts in a bouquet of heat and birdsong my running and cyclingcalendar is absolutely jam packed. Yep,2012. It’s all happenin.

The Forfar Half in a fortnight is still waiting in the wings. Always fancied this after doing the Glen Clova run. We'll see what the knee's like.

Man down at Mafeking

2012-01-17T08:43:00.000Z

1 HR TRAININGRIDE-BIKE: Find shorts, put on shorts, find undervest, put on vest, findbib tights and put on, find long sleevedcycling jersey,. Reject, find short sleeve jersey, put on, put on arm warmers,look for gloves, find gloves, put in back pocket, find cap, change cap to hat,find helmet, put on helmet, find shoes, put on shoes, get bike, check tyres,check brakes, find glasses, find mitts, ditch gloves, look for ipod, findwatch, get bike out. Grab water bottle and pump. Time spent 18 minutes:

1HR RUN: findshorts, find top, find hat, find gloves, find buff, find shoes, put them allon, grab the ipod and have a cup of tea, read the paper: Time spent 4 minutes:

Out for my 2^nd ride last Monday on the newmachine, took the corner of the local roundabout too fast and tight. Too tight. It was suddenly all tarmac, daft anglesand involuntarily waving to the punters as the bike groaned and I found myselfin a line of vision parallel with the kerb sliding along the ground for several metresbefore coming to a halt. The driving and pedestrian community stopped and witnessedthis incident with mild curiosity. I could hear them thinking 'ooh, I bet that hurt'. Then, perplexed they carry on like theymight see it as a regular, almost inevitable occurrence and just to be expected from lycra cladlooney bikies.. and it probably is!

As I raised myself up lazarus-style and parked the bike, bodyand ego on the pavement for a minute, I stooped and checked myself and the bikeout from the bottom up while re-adjusting my horizon. Thankfully I managed toget most of my body between the asphalt and the new machine and was pleased that thereseemed little damage to the bike. Limited tissue damage. However, deciding to continue on the shortride with my pride in tatters I could only find 2 gears on the back cassetteand so had 4 gears for the next hour; on the small ring into the wind and thenthe big ring on the way back. One of the levers has had its chips.

I’ve had some good crashes in the past. You don’t tend toforget them. Having been a committed bikie in the early 80's I had a few spills and so this one I rate only as a B-minus. 1982 was the best year when I had a spectacularcrash at the Harvey Hadden Stadium. I was ridden into by a rider whohad just competed in the World Championships at Leicester that year. He, no doubt, would have said I came off my linebut we both ended up spending time being patched up in iodine by an accommodatingfirst aider. Its a relief when, sometime later, your clothes stop sticking to you. A month or two later a newbie rider broughtme down at Meadowbank on the warm up when he dithered around the top banking and came sliding down ungracefully....or is that disgracefully.

With the frost biting and the road surfaces suspect its backto the running which isn’t a bad thing. A few extra festive pounds haveappeared so there’s nothing better than running to shed the blubber. Managed ahard hour in the woods on Saturday with circuits of 13:30 and 13:38 and a warmup of 15 minutes. Sunday was a cold 16miles in the lanes and it was another 8 miles late yesterday where I came faceto face with a fox in the woods. We had a stare out for a few seconds and thenit was off across the field (see photo) The small dear was a bit quicker and I only saw it’swhite bobbing tail. I’m suffering fromrace deficiency syndrome and it would be good to get one in before the end ofthe month. Meanwhile I’ll have to scratch around to find new levers.

Felt Envy...

2012-01-07T21:55:00.000Z

Ok, I admit it; there's a new bike in the stable. I spied the machine a month ago and waited and waited until now.
I disposed of a couple of old steel racing frames last month to make sure there was at least something in the coffers and the rest has been made up from overtime and putting in long hours at work...thankfully not by me, though. All for a good cause.
Anyway it was out for a 20 mile spin this morning. No crunching gears or strange rattling. smooth, smooth, smooth. There were shooters in the fields, beaters on the verge and the harassed pheasants were cowering in the non-existent hedge foliage or under fences. Even the sheep in the nearby field looked sheepish. There was wood smoke and powder in the air and a few horses out in the lanes. Pretty good for January (unless, of course, you're a pheasant) and a real contrast to last year.
Now just waiting for the Spring and the new cycling club jerseys (SC Gothic) to come through at the end of the month. The order's in.
Later this aft' it was eight steady miles 'a pied' through the woods in the twilight. If I can get up early enough tomorrow I'll try to cram in a 2 hour run but for now, I'm all spent up.

Hillforts Fell Race / Morpeth 11k

2012-01-01T14:38:00.003Z

Had to sit out this New Year as a result of another cold but was still well enough to poke the camera in various runner's faces as they toiled to run off any vestiges of last year or last night. Photos of the Hill Forts and Headaches uphill Fell Race now up on Flickr
...Morpeth 11k soon on Flickr.

Ian Harding (Morpeth) and Michelle Holt (Sunderland) were untroubled in the 11k and it looked like Phil Sanderson over Will Horsley at the Hill Forts. Always tough going up on any day, never minds New years Day. Good running by all at any rate. Still experiencing some camera trouble with the depth of field so will have to have the thing looked at!

Guisborough Woods Fell Race 2011

2011-12-27T17:39:00.000Z

Faced with an afternoon of Carry on Matron, me andthe 2 interlopers who have taken up residence in the house over the hol’s decidedthe better option was to head south in clear skies and mild weather to run the Guisborough Woods Fell Race. It’s a three lapperwhich is run through woods and forest tracks on the slopes of the northern edgeof the North York Moors. I didn’t do it last year (snow, ice) and, from memory,I recall damaging my ankle in 2009 in this 6 mile event when I eventually troggedin 18^th.

As we arrived at the rugby club to sign on it was ascene of flash-mobbing with 200 odd other runners chatting patiently in asnaking line up to the top of the rugby club car park. The race which takes in1200 ft of ascent got underway half an hour later. It’s a race that takes noprisoners if you run hard. It climbs up the forest track then through boggyground up through the wood, up again up the side of an old quarry appearing atthe top where runners can catch their breath for half a mile along the toptrack before plunging down a steep and often muddy slope through the fir trees withboulders strewn here in poor light under a blanket of pine needles and cones. Anice combination of forest run, heart straining slope and atmospheric technicaldescent.

There’s asmall crowd some years and studs are a must. After the first lap I was around18^th and passed a group of 3 including 2 Hartlepools and a runner who looked familiar. Thatwas enough to spur me onto his heels where I sat for the 2^nd lappassing a NYM runner who had pulled out having come adrift on the descent. The familiar runner was, I think, Joe McCready (DFR) who'd beaten me earlier in the month but with no club vest on I wasn't sure. He got away from me a little halfway through the second lap where I found mymind wandering about the quality of the photos that several of thephotographers scattered around the course would get and I had to snap back intorace mode. I managed to catch him on the first rise of the 3^rd lap.At this point as you find yourself dredging the forest floor for reserves and Igave myself the usual silent lecture about being in good shape, having a goodrecord on this run, that I was being chased down – in fact anything that mightstop me from thinking I could ease off.

As we started the steep climb we passed a Loftusrunner who had pulled up, but he re-commenced behind me and joined us at thetop making a group of 3 with me sitting at the back. We had begun to lap a fewrunners at this point. As we started to run along the wide and firm gravellytrack on the top I knew that it was going to be impossible to pass eitherrunner on the downhill unless I had a Harry Potter moment and I knew that I hadto get a gap before the start of the descent.

There was a slight lull in thepace and that was the signal to go. I went with around 150m to go to the bankside andknew it was a resolute, reckless but, hopefully, not a futile effort. I heardhard breathing on my shoulder momentarily but on the way down as I pounded out100% I couldn’t detect anyone near, (not that I stopped to listen or look back)and it was flat out over-striding to the end at the bottom of the track. Notquite top 10 but not bad.

Afterwards I treated my twoguests to a J2O at the presentation and three bottles of wine for 1^stM45 was a nice surprise from the master of ceremonies DP and his Crimbo winecellar. Thanks D. We celebrated by going via the car-wash where someone hadleft 3 minutes still on the machine. Now that was a Christmas gift. PaulLowe (NYM) won from Bulman and Sanderson (NFR). Cath Williamson of Loftus wonthe Ladies Race. Piles of photos now on the Esk Valley Club gallery. Results to come.

Ruddy Cheeks

2011-12-18T21:27:00.001Z

The whitesnow, icy and crisp lay high and thick like a blanket of snowy down on theCheviot Hills. I felt the embrace of the winter queenand her cool kiss on my ruddy cheeks. I heard the pheasants little teeth chattering as theyhugged themselves and bobbed up and down to keep their feathery plumage icicle free.

Strangely,however, I was nowhere near theCheviots. Instead I was 30 miles away wandering through the tracks and bridleways ofBuckshaw and Coalhouse Wood and over the heathery moorland around Beacon Hillwith the lads and lassies chatting about all things Christmassy while gulpingin lungfuls of clean, ice cold Northumbrian air. What a glorious 14 miles. Ibored everyone stupid with more crazy camera antics as I ran, stopped and ran andit was bang on 2 hours when we got back to base. It was a lovely run out.

Gettinghome, I re-heated the saucepan of homemade vegetable lentil soup and ladled the piping hot liquor generously into my eager, hungry bowl and then sprinkled some of the parsleythat I picked yesterday into it. As I sat dipping my bread into the broth, I sketched out next years running plan. It's called Jura on the 26th May...

The Isle of Jura Fell Race is undoubtedly a 'classic' in every sense of the word - being a true test of mountain craft, athleticism and fell running technique. It is one of the toughest challenges in British hill racing.

Later I might pick up Glen Rosa and Borrowdale or Nevis. and not to forget my burgeoning cycling career which has been smoking patiently on the launchpad. Yep, a couple of audax's or sportives. Sounds good. So much to do, so little soup.

Cheeky Wee Robin

2011-12-17T13:24:00.002Z

Gym this morning, woods with the daft dog this aft. Get tree and lights up, do garden and fill skip. Wot a life!

Diced Parsnips

2011-12-16T12:16:00.001Z

Pretty chilly and damp this morning as I found myselfrunning the 7 miles back from Ashington. The pavements were icy, ice, ice baby andarmed with my Salomons it made it doubly treacherous. I tried to stay on thegrass and roads where possible and was glad to reach the path that runs alongthe river through Bothal Woods. The Council have gravelled it for most of the way and initially I was critical of this but it was pretty dicey in the mud, so its fast and runnable now for most of the way.

It was grey, grim and atmospheric with hail andsleet. The moss and red copper beach provided some colour and I fannied aroundfor ages trying to get some decent shots. Came back via Lidl where I bought some parsnipsand honey which I’ll cook for lunch. I had to tear myself away from all theother ‘excellent’ merchandise in the shop! Honey roast parsnips - sounds goodenough to eat. Cooking and eating my own food - how exciting can life get?

I could find myself running back there (to Ashington not Lidl) this afternoon and havealready got the hat, gloves and shoes on the radiator. Should make about 14miles today which is quite good for a Friday. The mileage always takes a nose dive at this time of year. Not sure what’s occurring this weekend on the running front but should havea houseful for Crimbo so no doubt plenty of chores lie ahead. Better get theChristmas Tree up for starters.

later......dark.cold.bit spooky. got there tho...

North East Cross Country Champs 2011

2011-12-10T16:19:00.001Z

That was a slog! Photos up now on the Flickr site. Results from the races at Cramlington at http://www.noeaa-athletics.org.uk/FileUploads/norh_east_xc_results_2011a.pdf

Hexham Hobble Photos

2011-12-06T08:56:00.001Z

Glad I did the race at Eskdale rather than the Hexham Hobble, which from these photos look pretty blumin' chilly (Balazs photos on flickr - more at www.flickr.com/photos/71012987@N07/sets/72157628278038065/). The question is 'is a double bubble of the North East XC Champs this Saturday followed by Simonside on the Sunday a bridge too far....'?

Eskdale Eureka 2011

2011-12-04T19:50:00.001Z

If there was a league table for odd named fell races, I think the Eskdale Eureka would be up there with some of the best of them. Clashing with the local cross country and the Hexham Hobble, there was stillaround 100 or so runners who’d made the pilgrimage to Castleton nestled in the NorthYork Moors for the Eureka. This place is my old cycling haunt of the early 80’sand it hadn’t changed a bit.

There was a slow queue snaking its way from Dave Parrys car (raceHQ). Although clear and calm, it was barely above freezing and runners invarious nylon padded jackets jumped and hugged themselves on the spot to keepthe circulation going. It was just about the most exposed spot in this 8 mile fell race (Later when the hail and rain came down it was a less attractive spot for thepresentation, but that’s us getting ahead of ourselves)!

As I sat in the car I took some comfort from the fact that, in December, the routeshould be mostly on tracks and that the start was downhill to a bridge beforethe slow slog uphill started. I didn’t bother taking off my lycra tights or twolayers and hat but I was looking forward to testing my new OMM bum bag...(Ok, I don't get out much)! As we set off Imade some goofy faces at the team camera operator. I found out later that the proper camerahad been playing up so the pictures on the Flickr site might be a bit hit'n'miss. Luckily (for me) I was also armed with the phone. I chose my moments well and strucka number of times early on the course with the phone. I find it great as a tool to psyche out thosearound you – just when they think you’re flat out you slow, grope, point, shootand no one’s any the wiser. 'What just happened'?

The wooden bridge was as slippy as a forlorn January pavementand it was tip-toe across the soapy planks before working through the field from20^th to around 12^th. The next few guys and one gal took awee bit longer to catch and, in the meantime, I was passed by a runner in whitewho just ground out a great relentless and steady rhythm which I couldn’t match. He never got verymuch in front of me, but suffering an apparent relapse of the cold after mytrip to St James Park yesterday (without my hat on) my tubes were not giving me100% and the engine was only giving me eighty. A curse on those tubes.

I followed the seriesof shoe soles in front closely but every other step was a two step or swerve, baby step orjump as the narrow and tortuous moorland track was strewn with round and randomgritty grey boulders making life interesting for the unprepared.

It was at around 3.5miles that we hit the forestry track,then down through some green pasture, up a mossy bank and through some burnishedbrittle brown ferns and along a stream bank. Having got to the front of a three-some, Inearly took them across the stream before realising that getting your feet wetwasn’t obligatory. As the wind picked up and the light hail and then rain began, it was further along the bank to cross another wooden bridgeand up the nasty, steep and sheltered tarmac road before dropping back leftinto the valley and going back the way we came.

If you have a downhill start, its a sure thing there’s anuphill finish and I struck out after the last bridge to secure my top 10finish. It wasn’t pretty but I got there. It took around 63 minutes and I feltmy calf pull near the end, so I’ll be nursing that all this week, no doubt.

Leaving 40 minutes or so later armed with not one but two bottles of wine,we drove out to Whitby and had lunch at Dunsley Hall. A fantastic tasty main course, sticky toffee pudding and then a pot of teaby the fire as I reclined in leather seats and footstool. I didn’t want to go home. - Results at Eskdale Fell Runners site - photos at the Flickr site. Thanks to the NFR runner who seems to be in two of these 'ere photos (Phil I think)?

Saturday Shopping trip

2011-11-28T20:03:00.001Z

Took a run out to a flooring shop on Saturday which just happened to be near the local cross country. Arrived just in time to watch the men's race. The course had been altered from the last time I was at Blaydon. I'm not sure if it was the modified course or the 400 strong field that made it such a good visual spectacle but it was an entertaining half hour. Took a few snaps with the phone.

Moving on

2011-11-25T10:19:00.001Z

I've heard that old cliche countless times before...'all
good things must come to an end' and as the chilly winter weather enfolds
around us it's goodbye to the mild Autumn. I've finished the hefty Game of
Thrones and have moved swiftly on to a novel by Hans Fallada. My good spell of
health has also been dealt a cruel blow as I've succumbed to the lurgy that's
going around. Nose tripping me, bleary and as sprightly as a soggy turnip. Perfect
timing for the sporting double bill I'd arranged with the local cross country
on Saturday and TLI cyclo cross on Sunday. May still do these, but my rasping
bronchial death-rattle will not make me many new friends around the course.

-However, its not all doom and gloom.
The SC Gothic concept has now sprouted wings (ravens wings
actually) and a new blog site and email account is up and running, as is the
natty design from the designers at Velotec - the jerseys are going to take
around 4 weeks to delivery and the quicker I can get the order in the better -
still need to get the club registered at a suitable cycling organisation and
get the membership forms knocked up but that won't take long.

If you're interested click the link to the site

SC Gothic

2011-11-20T17:18:00.008Z

Saturday was 4 miles in the woods-the rest of day spent savaging the garden. There's still a lot of leaves and debris on the grass at the back.

This morning I was keen to get out and about.
Seems to have been a fast weekend for running with super fast times at the Abbey Dash and Brampton. So why was I at foggy Durham slogging around the mud with a bike for fifty minutes? Truth is I had already done 8 miles on the road with the lads this morning and Claybank and Livingston were just too far away. So Durham it was with the vicar (bike).

I also joined the TLI. That's the organising federation which runs parallel with and is an alternative (sort of) to British Cycling so to speak. So I find that on the basis of me writing out a cheque for £20 just before today's cyclo cross that I'm into next weeks TLI British Cyclo Cross Nationals. Exciting! I've never been last before. Seventh last, yes, but not right at the back.
When filling out the form I put down my club as 'SC Gothic' (sporting club) for some inexplicable reason. It's when these subconscious thoughts, this one of a web -based cycling club, drop out of your head onto paper that ideas take shape, where new clubs and ideas come to fruition and are created. It might be like vc Moulin or Vicious Velo perhaps: or perhaps not. I guess now I better see if I can get some members and some club clothing pdq. Anyone interested? -(just add comments)... The nationals are to be held at Gateshead; which is nice and handy.

Today's race was at Meadowfield where I've ran the North East Cross Country Champs previously so I had an idea of the terrain. Around 100 started and I as ever just grafted in a small gear all the way round. Fell off once and spent most of the second half of the race chasing a Hetton Hawk. Two good muddy hills, a short, steep dodgy drop (they call it the 'technical' bit-pictured) and a mental spiral made of tape that made you dizzy. Finished 55th and pretty good craic for a fiver.

When I got home I lit the Chiminea which I bought early in the summer. I shovelled a pile of old leaves and sticks in there and filled the air and my clothes with that autumnal burnt smoked aroma. Time for a bath.

Snacking

2011-11-16T17:13:00.007Z

I've taken my foot off the gas since Ben Venue and Langdale. I ran out of time last weekend with one thing and another so had to ditch the cyclo cross in Durham which would have been a laugh. It's not the hour it takes to ride the event its the time cleaning everything in sight afterwards that's a drag, not just a case of throwing on the trainers and out. However, the dearth of activity has been mitigated by some short runs through the woods with the mist down and trees throwing leaves at you as you go. Most of the running has been done in late afternoon in poor visibility as I leave it too late (again) and spend half the run stumbling over the hidden roots.

A tin of seasonal Quality Street arrived last week after I took advantage of the store offer. I told myself to put it away and out of sight, but it became strangely opened and full pre-Christmas snacking has been evident. Wrappers scattered all over the joint. I drew a line under it, however, today. Apart from the fact that all the brown, red and purple ones are gone, I got back down the weights. I have to find a new target race to aim for. This worked a treat last time for shaking me out of my flabby condition (both mentally and physically). Nothing like a bit of mental flabbiness. Its the North East Cross Country Champs on the 10th December so that's local and no excuse for me not to run. I think it might be time to try and lay a late claim to a place in the 2011 Rankings. The performances and race choices have conspired to keep me out of the dizzy heights of the top 200 m45's so maybe I'll have to have a go at a road race or two. That's if the cyclo cross doesn't get me first. Nice to have a choice of sports events.

Field Day at Eston

2011-11-06T19:44:00.006Z

It’s said in Eston that in the 1930’s you could hang your washing out in the morning and, by lunchtime, it could be covered in soot, so was the heavy industry around the Teesside Estuary. Today there was very little wind blowing in off the coast but plenty of heavy industry in the fields and woodland in the Eston foothills.

It was another instalment of the North East Cyclo Cross League. My road mileage has taken a bit of a hit of late. I fancied the Templetown 10 but the cost of diesel has stifled my wanderlust and, instead, it was something abit closer to home (-still, I shoe-horned in a sub 18 minute Parkrun yesterday so all' not lost.

Today’s course was a challenging mix of grass, track and woodland at the Flatts Lane Centre. Thankfully it didn’t have the impossible cambers of last weeks course. Armed with a new yellow Gore top (£10 from Steel's sale yesterday – thank you; kerching!) I was all fired up and belted out 51 minutes of hard cardiac effort in the slippy but mostly grassy conditions. It took a good 22 minutes before I was lapped and I only crashed once, so that’s progress. As I tired towards the end some of the steering became abit 'iffy' and I nearly impaled myself on one of the plastic pegs that holds the route tape, but with a quick adjustment I rode straight through it showing it no mercy. There are no extra points for this anyway.

I may have to join or start a club before long. Getting home with a bootful of muddy wheeels, tyres and bikeI had thought ahead and borrowed a pressure washer. The bike was clean and ready for more before I could say ‘Where’s the cowbell...?’ (thanks to the team photographer for these images)

Baby Wipes at Whickham Thorns

2011-10-30T17:51:00.006Z

Baby wipes have their uses. Useful for all sorts. Returning from a weeks’ holiday down south, I found I had some in the car, but today they were well out of their league and the clag that was stuck to all parts of the Ridley called for a small band of riot police with water cannon coupled with a couple of curling team sweepers with industrial strength scrubbing brushes...

Last weekend’s 5 mile road race in Milford, Bournemouth was followed up today with a 7 mile run before I peeled off from the Sunday gang and, faced with the possibility of painting the Hall, I opted for a cyclo cross race at Whickham Thorns, Gateshead. Two weeks earlier I had rode a different course in Gateshead that was bone dry. Not so today.

The race was part of the North East Cyclo Cross league and it was a mud fest. A very enjoyable one. On a hilly course perched halfway down Whickham Bank it was evident early on that there’d be a need for quite a bit of running (with your bike) on the uphill stretches and some proper bike handling skills were required. These, I’m afraid to admit, were sorely lacking in my display. I even hit the deck on the warm up lap and continued this unwelcome attention seeking behaviour throughout the hour long race. With around 60 starting, I was well to the back but before 10 minutes had elapsed there were casualties all over the course, men in muddy lycra leaning over their bikes, pushing tired and emotional aluminium and carbon frames and spooning sludge, grass and worms out of every conceivable crevice. I continued to work around the course at times jumping off deliberately to run or just laughing as I (yet again) picked myself up off the deck. I was passed halfway through by a rider from Malton who I presumed was leading and later a few more but not as many as a fortnight ago.

With a continued high drop out rate I was determined to finish and improve on my 54th place last time and despite going down more often than a racey metaphor, I ground out a ride.
When the bell went after 50 minutes I thanked the race referee for putting me out of my misery, but really it was a blast and I celebrated the last lap by staying upright all the way round the course. In any case I was keen to finish with the sun up there was a danger of me drying out and with the amount of mud on me I could have baked solid.
It took an hour to clean the bike when I got home and I ended up taking the wheels down to the river with a scrubbing brush like something out of the old testament. Much more of this malarkey and I’ll probably have to apply to the Environment Agency for a licence...(Later I found the Baby wipes cowering under the car seat)!

CXNE Gateshead

2011-10-16T18:53:00.009+01:00

I don't think it was nerves but the strawberry bonbons were getting a hammering. If I didn't hold off there'd be none left for the return journey. It’s been 30 years since my last cyclo-cross and today's one hour race at Gateshead Stadium was the first competition the Ridley (or 'the vicar' as I call it) had witnessed. The moth eaten bike gear was exhumed from beneath the bed and with the choice of suitable garments at rock bottom, I was forced to wear the jersey of a club that no longer exists. I had bought a new pair of ivory shoes going cheap earlier in the year. Not the best colour for this muddy, sweat- lashed pursuit. Part of the Cyclo-Cross North East seasons series of events, I don't think I looked too out of place among the garish lycra and fancy gleaming machines, chrome and alloy glinting in the early afternoon sun.

The idea is that you all start together and work your way around the grass course and after an hour or so a bell is rung before the last lap and if you’re not lapped you get a time; if you are lapped you also get a lap number. I was just trying to limit the lap numbers as a goal for the day.
The entry fee was a tenner and being unattached, I had to add an extra 3 quid for a day licence. We got underway and got through the first lap in around 8 and a half minutes. I was nearly at the back but not quite. Moving as smoothly through the gears as a learner driver on his first outing, I was lapped after 17 minutes. Not too bad I thought. I passed a few early on and spent a couple of laps with a rider from the Tyne Fire Service but then he was gone, blown out the back I mused by my raw talent and bike handling finesse. Me and the vicar were going well; better than I had hoped at any rate. Must have been the strawberry bonbons. I might try lemon next time.

I gawped at my watch briefly after a while and found out I'd been riding for 33 minutes and had passed a few buddies. While I couldn't offer much power in the quad department, my skinny frame and recent trips to the weights seemed to be compensating and I was soon gaining some confidence on the more technical bits. I remembered to slow down where the cameras were, but they kept moving around so not sure if they got my best side.
The course was very dry and there were several tight chicanes to deal with so the upper body was getting as good a workout as the legs. After 48 minutes I heard the bell go for the last lap as the race leader went past the finish line and by that time everyone was all over the circuit; some laps ahead, others laps down. I finished soon afterwards and collapsed on the grass in a heap.

After a chat with someone’s father (or granddad) mostly about the astronomical cost of some of the bits of kit (compared to a cheap pair of trainers, for example) I handed in my number and changed out of my ringing t-shirt and padded shorts. I felt as drained as a load of washing after a 1200 rpm spin, but not half as bad as some of the 10k's I've attempted in the recent past. The shoes and bike were still clean which was a bonus and I’m looking forward to seeing where I finished. It’s a tough workout but enjoyable and one thing’s for sure; you’re never alone for long in a cyclo-cross event.

Langdale Horseshoe Fell Race 2011

2011-10-08T20:48:00.010+01:00

£6.50 to enter; £3.50 for a map (so at least I could get lost with confidence) and £2 for parking and a hot pasty at the end. There was only one thing lying between me and that pasty. Fourteen miles and 4000ft of rocky Lake District terrain. The Langdale Horseshoe Fell race was the race I have been training for. As I had raced hard last weekend I drove down past Grasmere and gave myself the day off. At that distance there was going to be time enough to enjoy it.

This was an English Championship counter which explained the appearance of 400 hardened runners. The kit-check was uneventful and off we went at 11a.m. in the drizzle and moody white mist that hung around the peaks like an unwanted friend. I had been pouring over the forecast in the last 48 hours and was dressed for winter, but as we ascended up the farm track and then up through a high steep gully on stone stairs, I was cooking. Beads of sweat dropping from my nose, so the hat and waterproof came off and I pinned the number on my top.
This was my first time at this Lakeland Classic so I had the camera-phone and bored all around me snapping here and there. The mist on the top came and went and somehow it was rockier, infinitely slippier and steeper than I had imagined. My shoes were like skates across some of the boulder fields and only behaved themselves on the coarser grey grit. Am I alone in wondering if the rubber compound on the sole is better in some shoes than others?
I had started working through the lower half of the field and had time to take in the nice views on the rare occasions that they presented themselves. After an hour I looked at the wrist and we had covered a stylish but dilatory 4 miles. The jacket went back on. The hat went on, the hat came off, the jacket came off. Mild behind each peak, windy, misty and cool on the top.
I was with a group of 10 and passed five, but when I looked ahead, there were still around 10 ahead, a bit like a set of Babushka nesting dolls. I suppose there were just so many people on the hill ahead of me. After 2 hours I had done 8 miles, had my second gel and wondered if the winner was in yet. I could smell that pasty from here. I came down on my left hand badly at one point but thankfully it wasn’t my camera hand! There was also an interesting moss bog on route - just for a laugh.
As we passed through the last checkpoint we were coming out of the mist and it was warmer but as the views improved with the sun behind us the camera had steamed up and it was binned for the remainder of the race. We came to a steep rocky scarp and the lads ahead stopped. As I ran up toward them I just caught a glimpse in my peripheral vision of a runner behind on the high ground going sharp right. He had grey hair and was moving confidently so I was off and followed him down a great line off the hill. Passing an injured runner I stopped briefly but help had already been summoned, so I tucked in behind an Arragon Tri runner and came down into the valley and down toward the finish through 3 or 4 kissing gates. Each wooden gate had blood smeared on the top which was alarming but it didn’t stop me passing a Bowland runner just before the end. Competitive streak. Sad, isn’t it!

Just before the pasty fest there was some unpleasantness in the car as my quad cramped but after the obligatory one footed hopping dance and matching facial contortions around the vehicle all was well. It’s a long way to run never mind race and I think the only way to manage some of these knee busters is to just to run them and enjoy them. Finished in 2:58 - 96th. Next time I might manage a beer afterwards.

(Photos in the gallery)

Och Aye, Venue

2011-10-01T22:45:00.007+01:00

The last of the Scottish Hill Race Counters was Ben Venue. It's just to the north of Aberfoyle in the Trossachs. The Trossachs. Always sounds vaguely anatomical. The Proclaimers were on the radio singing ‘I’m on my way, I’m on my wa-ay from misery to happiness, uh ha- uha; you know the one and I was on my way from sunny warm skies to the dreich mist clad Trossachs for another lung buster. I would have been happier (and drier) dropping into the nearby Achray Hotel for a spot of civilised luncheon than changing into Walsh’s and squeezing down a gel in a saturated forestry commission car park before embarking on a wet walk in the wilderness.

I joined a handful of 'Hawks' who had come down from the City of Jute and Jam as we attempted to secure 2nd spot in the 040’s team competition. It was wet, but as we set off for the 7 .5 mile rumble through the misty heather jungle I felt pleased to be getting back up north and said 'hello' to a few runners as we clipped up along the tarmac. The route soon gave way to a gravel and pine strewn track beneath the pine trees. We turned right after a kilometre of two up through the woods and I saw a long string of runners ahead as we started the steep bit up the heather. Yep, it sure was steep and I was grabbing clumps of plant life on my way up as we made our way to the first checkpoint. I think I was passed by 5 or 6 going up.
We reached the top after 40 minutes of uphill and I was at the back of a group of 10. It was like hanging on to a whip, one minute desperately hanging off the back on the twisty rocky dips trying to stay in touch and then bunching nose to ‘erse as we hit the equally short, steep ascents. It was all going well and I was tucked just behind Des Crowe (Shettleston) and a Cosmic runner. A Carnegie runner kept coming and going (Peter Simpson, who I had tussled with in the past at the Black Rock Race). As we dropped down from the second cairn we met a string of other runners converging onto the path and I got that sinking feeling realising that we’d taken the tourist route (the long way round).
There was only one thing for it and that was to hammer down the hill. Despite my best efforts I lost contact with Des and teammate Craig Love as I tried in vain to outrun my legs on the steep slippy bit. There was plenty of falling around me in this Harem Scarem drop through the moss, wet peat and reedy grass and I was reminded of the descent of Ben Nevis in 2009 (for which I still wake some nights in a sweat), the boulders lying quietly in wait to strike.
As we hit the track again I (at last) got into a rhythm and lengthened my stride to pass a few on the way back down the track and into the woods. There was no more speed to be had but I was making full use of gravity and then, with about a kilometre to go and four runners just ahead, I began to cramp up on the series of short rises along the track and thoughts of any improvement in my position rescinded. It was only the Proclaimers song going round and round in my head that got me to the end and thankfully I managed with a shortened stride. The path near the end was narrow enough to ensure no one came past.

A bit bloodied, I towelled up and changing into some dry clothes, had a chat with some of the guys. The tea was lukewarm but there were plenty of sandwiches and the prize giving was prompt enough with the organiser confirming that Finlay had won from Prasad. I think Catriona won the ladies race. I’m not sure if we’ve done enough for the runner up prize but it wasn’t for lack of effort. For anyone wanting to witness the atmosphere of the 2009 Ben debacle here's the youtube clip:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgl9PDEOdeU

Whernside Fell Race 2011

2011-09-24T16:52:00.009+01:00

When some of the lads asked me on Thursday what I was up to at the weekend I announced that it was back over to Penrith, sadly for the last time (work) and then on to the Lakes for a good workout at Whernside... ‘Maybe’s someone’s moved Whernside ‘cause the last time I looked it was in the Dales’. Mmmm. Maybe a quick look at a map might be a good idea; and so it was, just down there past Sedbergh and Dent, the village with the impossibly narrow, cobbled main street.

I rolled up early to let the dog have a run around and then dispensed with the warm up, recognising that 12.5 miles and 3000ft of craggy Yorkshire Dales would raise the temperature enough. The registration was being taken in a very orderly fashion and I passed over my fiver. It was sponsored by La Sportiva and we were each given a map.

There were well over 100 runners and we left the village and padded our way down a narrow tarmac road for a couple of kilometres to Mill Bridge before starting to climb up a gravel track. The ground was very wet but it was mild in the valley initially and the drizzle and low cloud came and went. However, the wind soon picked up as we climbed I made some ground up to Whernside and across past High Pike taking shelter where I could.
I couldn’t decide after half an hour whether to pull out my waterproof jacket, but I was running with a Bingley and a Kendal runner and didn’t want to become detached from them. I spent time running with another runner in a grey t-shirt (at the finish he revealed he was from Bingley-or was that Bramley) and just before the hour we were a little group of 5.

At 56 minutes we stopped at The Crag as we were faced with a craggy drop; I guess that’s why it’s called The Crag but we soon resumed the descent with the help of Kendal man. It was back onto the tarmac and then back off and a steady climb up another track of grass and green slate laminated gravel to Great Coum. After that it was all downhill via Gill Rigg and the mist cleared to reveal a patchwork of fields on the other side of Dentdale and a string of runners below. It was fast and boggy across the sphagnum, sodden peat and tussocks of rushes as we tried to catch the crew up ahead and no sooner had we made contact than another guy appeared from behind. He accelerated past and I stayed with him, in turn passing 2 or 3 on the way down back into the valley and as the air warmed I was happy to see the finish line. The wet, spongy terrain made me feel like I’d ran 20 miles even though it was only 1:48 on the line and it was a strength sapping, punishing run. Carl Bell looked like he’d been finished a while and I didn’t stay for the prizes. Talking of punishing runs, roll on Langdale (That is in the Lakes, isn’t it?!)

The Great Westmorland Trail Race 2011

2011-09-11T14:17:00.002+01:00

Another trip to Penrith, another race in Cumbria. This time the Westmorland Trail Race had the dubious pleasure of my company. It was advertised as a 7 mile stretch in the countryside with 1000ft of ascent. I parked up in the farmers field and signed on at registration at the Crosby Garrett Village Hall. About 4 miles west of Kirkby Stephen, it was a sleepy hollow but 140 of us had made the trip and I was advised that ‘not road shoes’ were the order of the day. Does that mean flip-flops will do?

The course follows rolling grassy and gravel trails around Crosby Garrett Moor and after the first long exposed climb the rain arrived and coupled with a strong headwind, I looked for some shelter. Carl Bell and a couple of others were well away at the front followed by a group of 3 and a group of around 8 or 10 which I was in. It began to fragment as we levelled out on wide expanse of moorland and I found myself with Hanna, an under 21 runner from the local club the Howgill Harriers. I tried to work with him to share the work at the front in the headwind but he didn’t hang in close enough behind me to get any benefit. On the other hand, I was so close on his shoulder when I dropped back that I caught his heels a couple of times and had to trust that the line he was taking was safe enough there not being any space between us for me to avoid boulder and hollows.

We ploughed on as we dropped into the Picturesque Potts Valley that sweeps down past Hazzler crags. Turning at 3 miles we had a powerful tailwind and worked hard to catch Garner of Cumbrian Tri. It was all good, fast running terrain with only a few boggy patches. The Ambleside runner just in front was proving more elusive and, slowly, a gap had opened up between me and Howgill, but I had to stay with him and told myself I was in running well. We splashed through a stream and then the track rose steeply up the valley end with a 350ft climb in front. The pace dropped to nothing and it was all I could do not to walk. Ambleside had 30 seconds at the top and Howgill 10 seconds as we began to descend. The route took us through a right of way between two grey, mossy drystone walls creating a sweeping narrow corridor perhaps half a mile long and 2 metres wide (called Ladybank and Ladle Lane. I hammered down the narrow track, the grey limestone walls high on both sides, the Salomons struggling to find traction in places on patches of wet rocks, cobbles and boulders.

As we entered the village, Howgill and I were together and it was flat out to the line where I got the decision, but there was really nothing in it. Had a quick clean, cake and tea and a nice chat with the cheery ladies who were overseeing the catering. Checking the results board which was at the finish line as I made my way back to the car, I noticed that I was first vet (8th) and with a little more scrutiny also saw I was in line for first lady as well. This gender re-assignation was evidently going to be rumbled at the prize giving so I thought I’d better put the organisers straight. Waited for the prize giving and got a nice voucher to add to my little (and now old) collection of Pete Bland tokens for when I’m next in Kendal. The Howgill runner was one of three who made up the winning male team and got a bottle so that seemed a good result all round. This is a great trail race, scenic and not too demanding with markers every 50m or so and probably one of the best routes I’ve ran. A good result always adds of course to that positive feeling.

Tynedale Jelly Tea 10 mile Race 2011

2011-09-04T14:24:00.006+01:00

A touch warm but otherwise perfect autumn running conditions for this years Tynedale Jelly Tea 10 mile race from Hexham to Ovingham. Enjoy the photos. More on the flickr site NOW (click on gallery image on right) and results soon.

Grisedale Horseshoe Fell Race 2011

2011-09-03T18:31:00.007+01:00

It wasn’t a day to take an O.S. map in your bum bag unless you were trying to make papier mache, never mind being given someone else’s map to borrow for this 10 mile sojourn.
Finishing some work in Penrith, I drove to Glenridding in the Lakes with a notion of running (not racing) this 5500ft leg-bender. I’ve had virtually no hill racing in the past few months but was looking forward to the workout.

The clag was down and the grey sky was emptying itself across the glum hills. I arrived in the usual state of disorganisation and was happy to make the registration and bag check in the Village Hall near the banks of Ullswater. I didn’t have a map though and it took some kind gent to fetch one from his car. I hope he wasn’t too fond of it.

I set off right at the back with just over 100 runners, many of whom had their hoods up and jackets zipped up, making their way anonymously up the steep staircase of slippy and greasy boulders. Pouring rain. Puddles everywhere. Having pretty much walked up to the top, I broke into a run with a couple of runners ahead. The visibility in the murk was about fifty metres and I thought it best to catch the guys ahead. Safety in numbers and all that. The rain was relentless and like needles in places and as we ran through the mist I was careful to watch where I was putting my feet with some very technical and rocky outcrops and jagged, ragged edges that would have opened your knee like a can-opener. We ran along the wet gravel track and the pace was pretty easy after the first checkpoint. But as we started to descend I struggled to keep up and one lad beside me went for a full on dive through the grass about thirty seconds before I lost my footing and slid several metres in the super-lubricated conditions. I think my dive was more dramatic and, for a moment, as I slid along, I was wondering if I was going to come to a halt anytime soon.

We had a loose group of five but in the cloud someone went for a shortcut and we went too far right after Dollywagon Pike and missed the Tarn by a long way. I had asked Colin Valentine (Keswick) who was bouncing along in front of me if he was familiar with the route, but I guess it was just one of those things. Personally, I had no idea where we were, but that's not unusual.
We doubled back after compasses and (soggy) maps came out and we lost a lot of time pondering where we went wrong. We trooped over the moor and along the side of the little lake which emerged out of the mist like something from the film 'Excalibur'.

Finding the next checkpoint, it was up somewhere near or over Helvelyn (though I didn't really notice it) and across to St Sunday Crag which was a bit of a trog but we were soon over it and, as we descended, we bumped into around 10 or 12 others, a big group beginning the tricky, wet and slippy descent down a scree filled gully which then opened out to a vista of thick grass, ferns and grey boulders down into the valley floor. I lost some time coming down, but was trying to enjoy my ‘early afternoon out’ so there was no going into the red.
We crossed the Beck at the bottom of the valley which was quite exciting and a new underwater experience for my Garmin and then we were faced with the steep wall and ascent over Grisedale Brow, a mean test and it was hands and knees up through the reedy grass and ferns for most of the way. It was a steep slow slog but I had to time to sup some water from the stream and then developed my technique on the way up electing to go for the ‘knuckle gorilla walk’, this being better than ‘splayed fingers routine’ when on all fours.

I had lost the Keswick runner down the gully somewhere but he popped up at the crest of the Brow from a different direction in front of me and I followed him down into the finish.
It was a mid-table position and it was a wet, noisy and animated crowd who stood around the tea table. I had a quick chat with the only NFR runner I saw and after digging out what was left of the borrowed map and placing it on the radiator, I made for the car.

It was a good run but with very little sight seeing and I finished around 2:40, not too bad having lost probably around 10 or 12 minutes and by the Garmin I had run an extra mile or so.
Carl Bell (Howgill: 1:56) won from Cornforth (Borrowdale) and Addison (Helm Hill). Natalie White (Kendal 2:16) won the ladies race from Robinson (Ambleside) and Roberts (Kendal). Pleased to finish in one piece !

Hawick 10K

2011-08-28T22:35:00.004+01:00

The Hawick 10k, organised by Teviotdale, is a two lapper centred around the banks of the River Teviot. It's not too far up the road from me but as I arrived I was scratching my head as to whether I had been in the town before. Maybe it was a long time ago.
This race came to my attention last year when Neil Renault beat Nick Swinburn by a second or so. and...? The time was a shade over 30 minutes. Now, I thought, given the right conditions that could be the course for me in the same way as the Kelso Two Bridges is an unlikely 5K that still turns out good times (as long as you follow the course...long story).
Steve Cairns won Hawick in 2008 and he was on the start line again today with the rest of us and the wind blowing through the trees. There was plenty of green and white Gala vests and a handful of others taking the field to around 70. It didn't seem to be a day for a fast time but that didn't put me off.
We started through the park and perhaps after a mile moved up off the flat and a steep little incline of 50 metres or so into a headwind along the side of a backroad. We turned soon after over the bridge when we got the benefit of a long gentle downhill and tailwind along the wide path on the A7 back into the town.
I was sitting around 15th in the first mile and moved past a few including Diane Lauder (Gala) who was first lady at the time. There was a Moorfoot coming back and two Galas just ahead and there looked like there could be a wee group forming. I felt reasonable coming back through the park but couldn't latch onto the little group which now included a Teviotdale and Lauder who had come past. She won the event last year in 35mins. I had gone through 4 miles in 24mins but couldn't find the extra horsepower to tuck in out of the wind and it was the little incline for the second time that did for me. I still worked hard on the way back but watched the group push on.
I was still hoping for a decent time as I came around the second and final time into the park and stopped the garmin on 38:02 for the run and 11th place. No tea and medals today then (actually there were medals for finishers). The times were down on last year so I can't be disapointed and its progress of sorts.
Cairns (HBT) won in 33mins from Hynd and Green with Lauder (37mins) winning the women's race from Scott and Knox. Excellent little course and on the right day, a real fast one:

Crack 38

2011-08-24T20:28:00.004+01:00

Its taken a little time but things are improving. I've set my sights on a good long testing race early in October. Life's hectic just now so I'm not sure whether I'll manage to start but I had a good solid 16 miles on Sunday, 8.5 steady fast yesterday in 58 mins in the rain and a 4x0.78mile short session today which was also in the rain. I had to contend with various refrigerated lorries (I gave them the cold shoulder), railway barriers and dog walkers having chosen a local industrial estate to do the intervals. It was supposed to be 1 mile each leg but evidently someone' s shortened the route. This happens frequently with the wrist computer - what was a 10 mile run turns out to be a mile shorter than everyone thought. Still, knocked out 4.30 to 4.34 mins. for the 4 of them so quite consistent. Just need to speed up a bit. I think the cycling over June slowed things on the running front. I'm looking to do Hawick on Sunday to see if I can crack 38 for the first time this year and its back into the gym this week.

Idle Trail Race 10K 2011

2011-08-07T14:56:00.011+01:00

I've really got to stop this blogging lark.
I had planned to do a site visit in Bradford on Monday, but decided instead to drive down today and pick up the Idle Trail Race which was 5 minutes away from the site I was to visit. It also means I get tomorrow afternoon off.

It was cool and breezy with a heavy shower just before the start. Seeing the banner for 'Flaming Photography' and other folk wandering around with unfeasibly wide lenses and cameras that, whatever they were, couldn't be described as 'compact', I dispensed with my camera phone which was, in any case, a victim of yesterdays rain. We were mostly all huddled under trees with 3 minutes to go except for one or two who were out on the football field and clearly wanting to get on with it.

Around 240 set off for a lap around the pitch and then out along the road and down some stairs to the canal. I worked through a little group until I caught a Stainland Harrier and sat behind him for a couple of miles. The pace was fast enough for me and I wondered if I could keep it going. Surprisingly, he dropped back behind me at around 3 miles. There were no hills along the canal and I thought we were in for more of the same on the way back. I also thought that Stainland had run out of puff but after another half a mile or so he was back and passed me easily. We were hitting a few inclines now and halfway up one a marshall by one of the gates said ' you're 9th, you're 10th etc'. 'Tenth, eh? Not too bad' I thought.

That was the last positive thought I had as I looked down to see a set of wheels passing me. I recognised them. The wheels were mine. They'd well and truly fallen off. They were already packed up and heading off in the other direction. See you. I felt the svelte, highly tuned v12 racing machine turn into Mr Whippy's ice cream van. Even the cheery jingle began to sound like a broken down record player. It coughed, spluttered and then that was it.

I went from 9th to 13th over a mile or so and even then I was failing to do a good job of impersonating a runner. I kept on thinking about what witticism I might come up with or what I would blog about in this race rather than focusing on the soles of Pudsey Pacer as he came past. I hung on grimly up some cobbles, along the edge of a field and down a wide cobbled boulevard of trees and back onto the pitch at the end, desperate that Pudsey wasn't going to wrestle my 13th place off me. He didn't need to as it happens as he was 12th but I didn't know that. Getting back this afternoon, I find the results up already and I've been re-instated (or more likely my counting was as poor as my running). It wasn't pretty.

In retrospect I only lost 35 seconds over the last 2 miles, but that time could be better spent giving interviews, stopping for autographs and posing for photographs after the race.
Well done to the organisers and fantastic speed of publishing the results.

Back in black

2011-08-06T17:17:00.009+01:00

I was well beaten today. Well beaten by the weather. With the rain coming down steadily from lunchtime it was around three this afternoon that I thought it might ease up so I grabbed the dog from her sleepy corner and saddled up for 6 miles through the woods. I couldn't find my Walshes so I borrowed the young 'uns black Salomons. Very snug and hardly used...but it began to bucket down as me and mutley made our way through the puddles which had formed along the track into the woods and after 5 minutes we were both soaked and sodden.

We passed a couple of women out with their dogs. They were stood, head down, pulling their black cagoules close around their faces. As I passed one looked up and shouted nervously 'we're mad..!'. As I passed I nodded and thought 'mad, yes; and alive'. This sort of extreme weather changes the usual routine, changes the ground and the landscape and it's quite exhilarating to run in.

As I ran along the ridge among the dense green woodland and ferns, much of the foliage was sagging against the onslaught from above and I had to duck in some places to avoid the thin wilting branches and dripping leaves. I tucked my cold, wet hands into my tracksuit sleeves as I ran. The dog looked up at me and gave me a 'you must be mental' look just as there was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder almost immediately afterwards. Now, I like a challenge but I draw the line at dodging lightning strikes in the woods and it was sharpish back to the car with a princely total of a mile and a half in the running bank and a pile of wet laundry.
Strangely it was so wet the shoes remained clean as a whistle, but the dog says she's not my best friend any more. Its still raining.

Morpeth 10k Race 2011

2011-08-03T00:28:00.008+01:00

A warm, humid night. Good turn out especially from the new kids on the block, the Tyne Bridge Harriers. Terrific runs by both the men's and the ladies winners (Hagos & Dix pictured). Tricky lighting for this late summer event and photos a bit of a mixed bag. Results at http://www.morpethharriers.freeservers.com/

Photos now on the Flickr Site. See what you think.

James Herriot Country Trail Run 2011

2011-07-31T14:37:00.004+01:00

It was still July when I got up this morning so there was time to shoe-horn in a third race into the month and for that matter, the week. I'm not a 3-a-week sort of runner but I've fancied this one for a while and had considered it to be a wee bitty easier in gradient than Coniston. So, armed with 2 ginger nuts and the Sunday Post it was off down to Wensleydale.

Arriving in good time it was already chocka and the car park pretty full. The race HQ was in a field at the finish behind the imposing mass of greyness that is Castle Bolton. It somehow added an air of tradition and permanency to the proceedings. There were perhaps 200 at the start, some from Teesdale, Swaledale and many from other clubs but not ending in 'dale'. I decided to go with a pair of old road trainers rather than fell shoes, but it seemed many were sticking with the studs.

We started past the castle and through the village and then up a gravely track and onto the moors. The ground was firm and the gradient steady, rising for around 3km before levelling off across the heather moor ridge. After a couple of snaps (one of some interested cows), I found myself being shepherded by two Knavesmires with a lad from Otley just ahead. I passed all three between 4 and 6k and was then passed by a runner from Loftus (or a club with a maroon vest). He was running well with a long stride on the few downhill sections and he soon caught two others perhaps 30 seconds ahead.

As we began the start of the second climb up the loose gravel at around 8km, I fancied joining this select group in front but couldn't make any inroads into the gap and soon afterwards Otley runner came past having obviously had a second wind. I stuck with him for a short time but he still managed to pull out a good 15 or 20 seconds soon afterwards. The last 2 or 3 kms are on grass and it was nice to run on the sheep cropped surface instead of the gravel track.

Finished around 1:02 for this 14k run and just out of the top 20 which was fine. Grabbed some water and took off. Lovely run in green, sweeping countryside. I think that's me for a week or two now, although Osmotherley's next week I see!

Laxton 10k 2011

2011-07-27T23:06:00.010+01:00

The Wednesday night tradition of competing in (and reporting on) less well known English rural midweek races continues with this week's offering, the Laxton 10k. In truth, although I managed an hour with the lads on Monday night, my quads have been giving me serious jip since Coniston on Sunday. My legs feel they've spent the weekend with a man in a mask and his mates from the inquisition. Nobody expects ..... I was ready to confess to anything! By lunchtime today I'd had just about enough of them so there was only one thing to do. Take 2 ibruprofen and find a flat race to run off the stiffness. Ok, that's two things, Two things to do then. Finishing work at 5pm, Laxton was about an hour away and just off the M62 so it didn't take too long to find. It had been well advertised on the UKResults site and the hook was 'fast and flat; a course with PB potential'.

Arriving in the village I wondered what Laxton was famous for. I noted that they 'welcome careful drivers'. That's good. And another thing. They have a railway station; although it goes by the name of Saltmarshe. Cryptic. I paid my £8 at the village hall and mosied up to the start line mixing with runners from Goole, Hull, a few from Selby, York and Doncaster. I had a brief chat with a Marske runner. She was hopeful of a good time. Weren't we all?

We gathered at the start and were offski in a jiffy. For the first mile I was taking baby steps trying to get the quads to behave responsibly and by the two mile mark I'd finally started to run like an adult. At 3 miles I took a photo and some bloke who had latched on behind asked 'if it was for evidence?' to which I replied that I was on my holidays. In Laxton? At least that answer kept him quiet for the remainder of the race.

I went through 3 miles in 18:10 and by 5 miles was giving myself the 'it's just a training run' routine, meaning that I was tired and trying to find a cop-out. But I kept on and at 6 miles and nearing the finish I was passed by a Killamarsh runner and managed to find some energy to tuck in behind him. This unlikely tandem managed to pass two runners before the end. 38:25. Not the fastest but after Sunday, not as bad as I thought.

Stopping briefly for a cuppa and sausage sarnie in the village hall, I asked the helpers what Laxton was famous for. The answer...the run of course. Goodie bag, nice course and relaxed atmosphere meant this race is a winner.

Coniston Show Fell Race

2011-07-24T18:52:00.019+01:00

There was a slight burning smell around the car as I sat patiently but reluctantly in a convoy of sight-seers as we pottered over the Kirkstone Pass. Making my way to Coniston for the short 6 mile fell race (AM:2400ft), I had failed to factor in that I'd be driving at 25 mph. I knew, as I carved my way down 'The Struggle' to Ambleside that I would be cutting it fine to get to the start of the race in time (yet again!). I arrived at the village and parked up at the local school, but after asking directions I still had a mile to go across a field and along a hedge to the farmhouse with the 'funny' chimneys. As I dashed along the gravel track I told myself this was my warm-up. Thankfully, I made it in time and lined up in the show ground with around 60 or 70 doughty athletes. It was a beautiful day and it being the start of my autumn campaign, I was looking forward to the shock of having my heart rate rise from 50 to 180 bpm within 4 minutes. I've got no form this month what with holidays, low mileage and waning motivation. Off we went up along the grey gravel, then across the main road and up and up onto the grass. The hill was there in front of us, and I was sat in around 10th place (biding my time I told myself). There was a little variation in route but no easy way across the rocks and grass and moss and I occasionally stopped for a breather under the guise of taking some snaps.

A few lads and one lass passed me on the way up and I was anxious at the small but burgeoning charabang of runners snapping at my ankles. There was some steep stuff higher up which saw me doing the spider crawl, grabbing clumps of grass and corners of grey lichen covered flagstones. This can easily progress to the crab-walk if, while on your hands and knees, you need to go sideways while, at the same time, also trying to go up.

As we ascended I was aware of the stunning view behind me. I didn't see it, couldn't see it, just felt it and that on a normal day, it would have been a glorious walk to the top.

Being out of my usual circuit of races, I didn't recognise anyone and there were a wide assortment of vests on display. At last I saw a runner coming down and was relieved. The summit wasn't far away. But there was yet another false summit to deal with and on seeing this unexpected additional and gratuitous metreage I muttered a few four letter specials under my breath (nice, good, high..eh?!!). I got to the top in 45 minutes and then it was all the way down. I had half convinced myself that I would pass a few on the way down but instead I was quickly passed by a Wharfdale lad and then another guy. I later caught him as he took a different, slower line down the hill. The soles of my feet were suffering and I was aware that my descent was slow and laboured.

As the concrete track appeared and the gradient eased the Pegasus-like fell shoes became the familiar treacle wellies. It was, however, a loud and warm welcome as I pegged back into the show field and was thankful not to have to do a lap to the finish line. I took a photo of the trophy perched and glinting on the table. I said to the bloke minding the tent that this would be the closest I'd get to it. He suggested then, that he took a photo of me holding it. Aye, I thought, that'll be right. After a dousing of water and a tic-search, I made my way back to the car. I thought I might check the oil. None. That probably explained the burning smell on the way down. Stopped at the garage and topped up. What a dipstick. I need a few of these steep races, some new targets to harden my resolve.

New Training Method No.8

2011-07-21T20:03:00.003+01:00

Training method No.8 - finish work late. home. change. new shoes. feel springy. miss group at club. back home. put on ipod. put on tele. roll intro credits of Le Tour. one hour programme. tele off. set off for run. 45 minute circuit. run into road-works and dead end. herras fencing. rubbish. no option. double back. lost time. push limits on back road. aerobic threshold. gasp. railway crossing. lights on. barriers down. rumble of tracks. freight train. count carriages. 21. wait some more. inter-city other way. conspiracy theory. barriers up. belt along rest of lane. music banging. chicane. poppiholla. open stride. cut through houses. front door. tele on. Schleck with 1km to go. phew....

Eurozone

2011-07-17T20:06:00.004+01:00

On the plane after a week in the Pyrenees.

My French language skills were put to the test and found wanting. Mr Duffy was right; I should have paid more attention in class.

Out of the window, the turbine at my side looks like a giant cloud hoover. With my eyelids closed, I’m seeing the vestiges of yesterdays 14th Stage of the Tour which we took in around Tarascon (pictured). It was good to see, even if those boys and their huge entourage didn’t bother slowing down to say ‘bonjour’ and doff their jaunty chapeaus.

Nice Break.

Tynedale 10k 2011 (Part 2)

2011-07-07T22:26:00.003+01:00

The second batch of photos from last nights Tynedale 10k has been loaded up.

Warning: Pictures contain images of extreme effort and commitment! There were more than a few PBs on the night.

Tynedale 10k 2011

2011-07-06T22:39:00.006+01:00

Photos on the Flickr site. link to results for the Tynedale 10k here http://www.race-results.co.uk/results/2011/index.php

Harding (Morpeth) wins from Archer (Low Fell) and Twaddle (NSP). In the ladies race Angela Hibbs (Chester Le Street) was closely followed by Jane Hodgson (Morpeth) and Chester Le Street's Hunter.

Watching the Collectives

2011-07-03T14:37:00.006+01:00

While the rest of the house is plumped up in the front room with the tennis on, I am propped up in the back garden, cushion against the ivy clad brick wall with a glass of Greene King and William Boyd’s well crafted novel in my mittens, slowly baking.
The sun is high, the sky is blue. It must be summer.
The sound of Sinatra on the radio is wafting out the kitchen window. He’s crooning out something about ‘Saturday night being the loneliest night of the week’ but as it's Sunday lunchtime, I guess he’s got through Saturday night reasonably well.
We spent the last two days in Glasgow watching the young'un swimming. I had plans to do the Whitetops race on the Friday night but a long, lingering attack of apathy rolled in off the Clyde and I went for a 13 mile jog instead. The route took me up Pollokshaws Road, past Victoria Park to Clarkston. I was going to run along the Clyde, but small edgy collectives of the burberry clad fashionistas were encamped with inconvenient regularity along the banks of the dark waters and I soon made the strategic decision to veer right at Bridge Street.
Later I retired to bed in our clean, functional but tiny room. In contrition for the earlier attack of race lethergy, I had every intention of making the parkrun at Strathclyde Park the next day after dropping off the fish people at Tollcross. Regrettably, there was a noisy bunch of drunken revellers who kept most of the hotel up all night so I spent Saturday with a thick head from lack of sleep trying to find a quiet corner to doze away the hours.
We did manage a perfectly well behaved lunch at Bothwell though. I feel I have an affinity with the place. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.
It was, however, great to get back home and have a good night’s kip. Celebrated with a 1:40 run this morning before escaping to the garden under the guise of 'pottering', whatever that is?!

Windy Gyle 2011

2011-06-26T18:02:00.007+01:00

I've only ran the Windy Gyle Fell race once. Last Year. It's advertised as a nine miler with 1800 ft of ascent, but its a gently rolling fell race which is all runnable and scrapes into Scotland, which can't be a bad thing. The start is located well up a valley and well out of the way of the public. Only people meaning to be around here ARE around here...and today that meant some of the army, a bunch of fell runners and a handful of walkers, most of the latter in civilised groups carrying more gear on a summers day than some of the infantry.

Before the start the organiser gave me a medal from the 2009 Northern Championship which had been warming itself for 2 years in his drawer. As we warmed up I noticed the absence of the usual suspects who, unusually, weren't around.

As we set off after warnings of a bull in a field I cantered across the hay meadow and began the steady climb to Barrowburn. It was breezy, dry and warm and it was nice to get going. At the top an HBT runner took the lead and began to pull away from a younger lad possibly from Sheffield who looked like he was holding back abit. I looked back and saw a bunch of eager, hungry faces just behind and thought I'd better get on with it. As HBT powered away the Sheff runner was about 10 seconds ahead and seemed to be slowing a little up the ascents. I caught him shortly after the second one. As soon as he slowed to a walk going up, I slowed, but it was only the power of suggestion and after a while I told myself he might have been tiring and we were going to get caught by the others unless we upped the pace. The trouble was he took a sack load of time out of me on the descents without any effort as he opened his stride, and, as the last mile or two is downhill, I resigned myself to being third as long as I could hold off the pack behind me.

With most of the hard work done, I shadowed him along the ridge down from Black Braes and along the Street, all of it firm and runnable and we pulled some time out of the runners behind. The distant thumps of artillery punctuated the otherwise peaceful sound of lungs and heart working in grumpy unison.

At the last short rise of Hindside Knowe, Hallam went for the stile and I leapt over the gate and then I was in front and before I knew it Sheff was metres behind. I had to stop and check a couple of times if I was going the right way, but by then I could smell the unmistakable whiff of a velvet clad podium place in the valley below and it was double quick time down to the Sheep pens and 2nd place in 1:07. Chuck won. I didn't get his surname but he said it was his first win. Sarah Lister of DFR was first lady. It was a lovely day and warming all the time so I spent the next 30 minutes slouching in the stream with camera.

I'm now enjoying the fruits of my labour; Premium Kentish Ale. Nice to be up at the front, even if it happens only rarely. Random Photos on the FLICKR site (sorry to those I missed)

Elmton Chase

2011-06-23T17:20:00.008+01:00

Another weekday, another trip to run someone else's mid-week race. This time it was the Elmton Chase, a five mile extravaganza around the fields and lanes of the cosy village of Elmton nestling just east of Chesterfield.

Organized by Clowne Road Runners (dot org), the registration was in the local pub and we had the luxury of using the pub's 'facilities'; Tres clean with nice beige glazed tiles, deep square belfast sinks and crisp basin mixer taps in a stylish, modern chrome, featuring a sleek, square body, complemented by a matching square handle. Very 'of the now'. Anyway, enough of the taps.

I'd rolled up early and had had an hours kip in the car. It was humid and there was a slow but steady trickle of competitors. The numbers, however, added up, in all, to around eighty at the start line. It didn't take much working out that the red and white vested Clowne club were going to sweep up the team prize unless the local Killamarsh club, clad in contrasting flourescent green could pull something out of the hat.

I felt sluggish at the start as I fell in to around 12th place as the race made its way down the high street, past the church and then onto a variety of narrow tracks. There were around six red Clownes in the top ten at that point.

It took a good three or five minutes to get my breathing sorted out and then I began making progress passing two Clownes together with a small band of three runners just ahead at twelve seconds or so. The ground was firm but the route was undulating, cutting down the side of fields planted with wheat and barley, the red poppies adding a bit of colour to the well watered plant life.

The little posse soon broke up ahead as the course led to a gentle steady downhill section . I convinced myself that the runner ahead, another Clowne, was struggling, so tried to catch him. He had a big stride but was definitely slowing. I then moved onto the next runner. He was wearing blue and grey quadrants (South Yorks Police) and I didn't recognise the vest. He had a nice steady gait and didn't look like he was working too hard: unlike me. It took most of the rest of the race to catch him up and when I did, I sat in behind him along a long uphill drag on the road and then back through some fields. I think it was a stile that temporarily interrupted things and created a small but useful gap between us. I caught up again but we were then close to the finish and he kicked as we re-entered the village. I didn't have any mojo left and was left to follow him in 3 seconds behind in eighth place (29:19). A few words at the end with a couple of lads and by then the rain was a steady drizzle. I grabbed a cup of water and headed off to the car. Nice run and well marshaled.

...Already planning next week's race to the sun in another far off place.

Roubaix Legs

2011-06-18T23:12:00.009+01:00

The re-launched cycling career has at last kicked off with a bunch of local guys who I've teamed up with. Last Wednesday they successfully talked me out of 30 miles and I capitulated to their generous offer of 50 miles instead. These were not your commoner-garden 50 miles but a select route past Rothbury, over the climbs of Bilsmoor and the Gibbet in North Northumberland. Small beer, I grant you compared to the Highlands, Lakes or Alpine passes but more than enough for the vicar of Ridley (my road bike). The gears decided they'd had enough and have been crunching ever since.

To add to my dudgeon, I was stung in the eye by some insect and the next morning I woke up with an eye that looked like it had done 3 rounds in the ring with Jake La Motta. Its too early to say yet whether this two wheeled love affair is going to play havoc with my fell running, having only just kicked off the 2011 campaign. I'll know more after Windy Gyle next weekend. I've been advised by the boss that I can't make Eildon on the 25th due to a prior engagement. Worse luck.

Today as we set off in the rain I brandished a new pair of bike goggles, but as it poured for the 3 hours that we were on the road, I needn't have bothered with the eye-wear. Dreich and dank. With a rear wheel puncture on the way back it was a joy to sit on the wet grassy verge for ten minutes with the rain teaming down. The team car was no where in sight and neither were the domestiques who were to pace me back to the peloton. Rose coloured glasses would have been more useful. After Grindleford on Thursday the legs were not very responsive. Still, the quads have made a re-appearance and with another 50 wet miles in the bike bank I've promised myself a fathers day present of some new gears. Getting back in the house I was chuffed with my Roubaix Legs (pictured above).

Grindleford

2011-06-17T13:34:00.006+01:00

It seemed rude not to look in at Grindleford last night. I was, after all, in the area.

The fell runners handbook (which is, incidentally, a thoroughly good read and the bible of hill runs that should be used in conjunction with all professional trips, visits to relatives and holidays around the country) said it was a CS category fell race. In other words I shouldn't expect to be out after dark and that the oxygen mask was safe in the car. Having not been oot in the hills since February, I thought this would be a suitably low key affair with a few ramshackle runners with nothing else to do on a Thursday night. I made my way to the Pavilion set within the Peak District village's local cricket ground. It was chocka. Folk were wandering down the street from the railway station, arriving on foot and by bike but mostly by car and there were throngs of the blighters. Maybe a field of 250 or so.

I signed up and getting my entry for £4 the kind lady explained which way up my number was to go on (69). Not sure if she was taking the micky. I overheard a few buddies talking about the river crossing and wandered over to the river to see if I could see the river bed. We lined up across the pitch which had become a car park and were told it was 2 laps around the grass and then off up the hill. The start was a bit of a rampage and by the end of the second lap there must still have been around 50 or 60 in front. I know I'm at the wrong end of the V40 category these days but this was uncalled for. Off we charged up the hill through the trees, the rocky and gravelly track widening and narrowing as some runners up ahead thankfully found the gradient too arduous and began slowing. Getting past them was an effort though and, in places, I remember thinking the course too narrow for a field of this size. Still, I had passed around 10 or 15 on the way up, so time to concentrate and keep up the momentum.

I realised halfway through that the secret of running a fast half of any race is to mistake its duration. It occurred to me as we climbed in single file through the the narrow fern clad corridor that the 30 minutes I had in my head was the record and not the time I would end up finishing in. But, too late and by then we were lumping across the top of the fields, not so much heather more rough pasture and then onto gravelled tracks.

There was something of Latrigg in the gradients and landscape and the downhill soon came. I had yo-yoed with a Dark Peaker for a little while but then he ran out of puff and I soon had a group of 5 in front. I passed another Peaker before the first stream crossing. As I picked my way across the boulders I heard a crunch behind me and a yell of 'OOOHH' filled the air from the handful of onlookers stationed at the crossing. Peaker had gone down. The fall seemed to give him immediate impetus (or a double shot of gravel-lickers adrenaline) and he scampered off in front of me. I kept right behind him as we careered through the woods, strewn with grey gritstone boulders and roots, the former frequently forcing you to flick your trailing leg high to ensure you didn't trip.

We ran out of hill and soon hit flat lying pasture as the course made its way parallel with the river on the floodplain and Peaker's batteries began to stall. As we got to the river crossing a Steel City Strider was making his way across to the other side where there was a host of cameras, his group of 5 having fragmented through the woods. With 400m to go there was still time and energy for a burst past the Steelman and it was home in around 27th place.

Unfortunately couldn't stay for the flapjacks and tea, but enjoyed the race. Doing a fell race out of your usual area (where no one recognises you) is a novelty and adds a frisson of excitement. Highly recommended. Auntie Aggie says I should get out more. Maybe I will.

Navel Gazing

2011-06-12T13:11:00.008+01:00

I've laid off racing since the Edinburgh Half.
It's not because I'm lazy, injured or worn out. Instead I've been pondering future races which, let's face it, is a lot easier than running them. I almost made Yetholm, but then common sense prevailed on Sunday morning and having not been on the hills since February, I convinced myself nine miles of quad bending calf thrashing ankle swivelling pleasure might not be the best re-introduction to fell running.
I had half arranged to run the Black Rock at Kinghorn in July but too much pondering found me missing out as 800 eager bodies signed up and filled up the event before I had time to put pen to paper. So instead, as we're up in Shettleston for the end of June with the young 'un swimming anyway, it might be a trip up to White Tops where the Hawks organiser has promised an alternative and improved race. I'm really just going up for the cakes afterwards.
In the meantime I have a couple of spaces available to slot in 2 or 3 runs and am hoping to have a busy summer of racing.
I've put in some miles recently on the bike and got soaked yesterday up by Wark when it hail-stoned and then continued raining for the day. Its been a long time since I spent 70 miles on the bike.
There's Eildon at Melrose later this month and that 400m sub-60 is still floating in the ether. There's also a couple of possibilities around Edinburgh so enough of the chin scratching and introspection; better dust off the club vest.

Blaydon Race 2011

2011-06-09T21:17:00.006+01:00

Cracking night with a fresh headwind for most of the way for the Blaydon Race 2011. Good night for the camera.

All Photos now on Flickr. Results later.....

Altitude Training

2011-05-29T22:31:00.003+01:00

Sloped off for a long weekend hitting the heights of the Schwartzhorn (10,000ft). The exposure was just creeping beyond the edge of my comfort zone. A few beers later when we got down to Grindelwald I was raring to go again! A couple of weeks up here for altitude training would do wonders.

EMF Edinburgh Marathon Festival 2011

2011-05-22T17:25:00.009+01:00

Getting over an injured calf, my target for May was the Edinburgh Half Marathon. Part of the attraction was that it started at eight in the morning. Not that I like running at that hour, but knew it would be cooler than last years Edinburgh Marathon which started at 10am and was a scorcher in 2010. I couldn't face another marathon so soon after the last one and especially not in the heat.

With the passing of doomsday, I dragged myself from below the stairs and I made my way with trusty navigator up to Edinburgh. This year we parked free in St Andrews Square (just because we could). Free parking in the middle of a Capital City is the best bit.

I bundled my bag on the baggage bus among the throng of stretching, preening and nervous runners and confused bystanders at the end of Princes Street and tried to warm up by running around Waverley. I think people thought I was lost or had missed my train.

It was cool and breezy but not too bad. Made my way to the start and before long the runners were told to get into their pens. This year I was after a result so there was no chat or waving to the crowd, natty photos or flicking casually through the ipod.

I worked hard on the road past Meadowbank and then down to Portobello where, by then, the runners had thinned out. The wind was difficult to predict but it felt like a crosswind gusting in between building openings. I hit the 10k mark at 37:48. There weren't many people around and I expected a headwind for the last two miles so I was keen not to end up running on my own, so I latched onto an Edinburgh AC runner. It was head down and graft past Musselburgh and at the 10 mile mark I think I was close to the hour.

I had a gel after 40 minutes and another at 11 miles. Its not easy taking in gel when you're doing your best to gasp as much of the troposphere as you can and I felt the stuff squeezing out and bubbling around my lips while it waited patiently for an opportunity to go down. Probably not a pretty sight.

By 12 miles the Edinburgh AC athlete had about 5 seconds on me but the good news was that with a bit of effort I might catch a Fife runner who was running out of steam. He was only about 4 or 5 seconds ahead at the finish line when the announcer identified him as a Gateshead runner, (just with a similar vest).

Got my medal and goodie bag and waited to take photos of the early marathon runners as they came past. The weather had now deteriorated to a black sky and squally showers. I recognised quite a few. The wind began to whip up and I was pleased not to be caught up in what was going to be a hard final stretch of marathon into the wind.

Caught the bus back to St Andrews with a large Italian contingent who had taken part and finished the day experiencing coffee and patisserie in a souped-up swanky cafe next to Harvey Nicks.

No results yet but pleased to finish in 1:20:34. It might have been quicker if I'd used a low froth gel!

Photographs of the Edinburgh Marathon on Flickr - Link here http://www.flickr.com/photos/34070057@N06/sets/

You looking at me....?

2011-05-21T09:02:00.010+01:00

I'm exhausted. No good lessons in race preparation to be had here. Reclining in the understated B&B with cheap carpet and woodchip, I keep telling myself its clean and adequate. Functional is a word that springs to mind. Luxurious is a word that doesn't. How much UHT milk can you drink? There's a mumble from the room next door and I hear the sound of a door closing. The last of the sun is streaming through the nets and I pull the curtain across to make some shade as I watch tele. The curtain and rail comes away in my hand. Oops...

Davina and Nicky have just repaired another few relationships and I admit it, my lower lip had a bit of a tremble on for a minute but then I remembered I was in Weymouth. I was soon back on track with Jeremy, the over zealous librarian and the silent singer in 'Psychoville' (-have you seen '50 great country walks (volume 2)'?! - You have to see it...

Another local job. Should I be concerned about my carbon footprint. After watching the sparrows down at the quayside for most of the day, I conclude that these twitching balls of grey featheriness have issues. They are the hardest sparrows in Dorset. Bonkers. They spend all day fighting each other. Is that the effect of pecking at discarded chips from day-trippers or just boredom? Their squabbling made my 10 mile jog along the cobble beach and coastal path look like a walk in the park (or a run on the beach, which, after all, it was). Even the sea-gulls were giving them a wide berth.

After a long but not hard day at work, I set off with my running gear in the early evening sun and bounced my way along the esplanade and then past the long, wide flint cobble beach and up onto the cliffs with the surf swashing relentlessly 200ft below me. Got to the Smugglers Inn at Osmington before turning back. The bounce had gone by then. The path along the cliff disappears into thin air in places as sections of soft Jurassic shale turn into clay and slip without struggle into the waves. The occasional sign warned of danger...'Landslip'....mild peril involved!

The rabbits seem to like it. The little blighters were everywhere. They had a bit of a nonchalent attitude. I didn't get too close though in case they went to the same school as the sparrows. Some were waiting for me at the style eyeing my trainers up with menace. Others stood by filing their teeth.

This place is hosting the Olympic Sailing next year. Some of the local lads I talked to during the day seemed less than impressed at the carnival coming to town. Who wants to watch boats two miles out, anyway? I've got to make a return trip in a week or two. Might look up the race calendar and get a race organised to see whether the south western runners are as formidable as the wildlife.

Roll on Edinburgh

2011-05-13T22:32:00.004+01:00

Good session on Thursday night with a few short intervals that suited me and then a late spring dash round the woods tonight in full bloom with bluebells, blankets of flowering white stars of wild garlic and ground thats still rock hard. I fancied the local parkrun tomorrow morning, but instead I've collared a few lads for a ride through the lanes on the bikes. Hope I don't get dropped.

I hear the Great Manchester Run is on BBC2 at the weekend so that might be worth a look in. I've decided not to go up for the Leven Half tomorrow either and, instead, will have a steady long run as usual on Sunday. Not much other going on at the mo. Maybe no news is good news on the running front. Roll on Edinburgh.

Slave to the Rhythm

2011-05-08T13:02:00.007+01:00

A few of the fast lads turned out with the usual suspects for Thursday nights session on the grassed track at the local school. Their appearance had the effect of lifting the usual times and sharpening up the evening. It was the first time for a long time that I began to feel some speed in the legs, finishing the last few intervals in 71 secs. A trip to the Midlands meant that Friday night was 45 minutes running steady along the canal and up and down the local high street .

Last night was a high speed 4 miler round the local woods.There's lots of dumpy bags scattered around the woodland track and regretfully 'they' seem intent on stoning up the track that winds its way through the wood (-next it'll be streetlights and signs). Earlier I had downloaded nine minutes of Frankies 'Two Tribes' (the annihilation mix) and Grace Jones 'Slave to the Rhythm' (extended hot mix). I've always rated ZTT's productions and remember walking into HMV in '85 and hearing Slave blasting out across the aisles. Back to back the extended mixes make a great thumping 17 minutes of music to run to. Today was a 16 miler round the lanes. I ramped up miles 11 and 12 to see what I could expect to churn out in a fortnight and managed a 6:30 for each at about 150bpm before winding down over the last final few miles. I think anything close to 1:22 in Edinburgh might be reasonable.

What is it with slugs wanting to lie on the roads after a heavy downpour. Not a great survival strategy. Nice to see a bit of rain though.

TeesPride 10k 2011

2011-05-02T17:11:00.009+01:00

My first thoughts following the start of the TeesPride 10k race was what a good job the regeneration folk had made of the area. Having spent more than my fair share of 1981 working in Teesside before going back up north to the land of the silvery Tay, it was a pretty grubby place. It was a place where Maggie had had her 'walk in the wilderness', strolling around the post apocalyptic landscape with her handbag ruined by heavy industry (not the handbag that is!). But enough history already.

I was thinking at 2k 'this feels a bit quick' as I sat in a group which included a Chester Le Street runner who I'd seen before but couldn't place. And, of course, it was. The other thing that crossed my mind was that this wasn't the course I'd looked at on the website. Which, of course, it wasn't.

There was a strong easterly wind blowing and I tucked in behind a couple of runners to take shelter. The course consisted of 2 flat laps run around both banks of the Tees and while the north bank was one long straight with a helpful tailwind, the return along the south bank was in and out of cuttings made along the bankside where new buildings, some belonging to Durham University Campus, had sprouted up. The copious weaving left and right was partly compensated by the shelter afforded by the bricks, trees and street furniture from the headwind.

Having been dispatched from the group at the 4k mark for being 'too slow and generally useless', I spent most of the second half of the race on my todd catching the one runner ahead who looked like he was flagging. I kept reminding myself I was an endurance athlete, just not a very fast one at the moment. There were a few bikes to dodge and I was aware of being chased by the 200 runners behind me. Before I knew it I was approaching the finishing line. A sprint wasn't required as I hadn't caught sight of any looming shadows over my shoulder. I peered over the judges clipboard as a plodded across the line to see I'd finished in around 20th in 38:15. I was given a t-shirt and water for my trouble and wandered back to see the photographer and young 'uns finishing. Nice day out and friendly crowd. Photographs on the Flickr site.

It turned out that the course had been changed from a one lapper to a two lapper. No wonder I'm confused. I bet my drinks bottle is still on Newport Bridge. Results probably on the Billingham Marsh and Tees Barrage websites.

Ghostriders

2011-04-29T08:19:00.010+01:00

Training's going quite well now and although the vestiges of weariness from London are still floundering around in the legs I am, at last, having the luxury of paging through the various events that are in the calendar coming up over the next few weeks.

The plan is to hammer out some sort of time at next months Edinburgh Half. I know it'll be cool during the run because it starts at 8am. I might still be in my jim-jams. Is it possible to run with a sticky handful of marmalade, toast and a googy egg while rubbing the sleep from your eyes? I ran the course as part of last years marathon. A decent performance would be good for the confidence.

In the run-up to late May's junket around 'auld reekie' and 'the Pans' I fancy the Cheviot hill race on the 8th but can't risk damaging the old legs on the psycho-exocet-type downhilling that I would no doubt find myself adopting to gain a place. There's the Edinburgh to North Berwick but that's going to be too long so, instead, it might be a 10 miler somewhere else. Feels like a long time since I raced up there. A trail race would be ideal. From a quick scan though, it could be the 10k at Gala or the Loch Leven Half. I did Leven 3 or 4 years ago and it wasn't too bad a course. If I do it I'll have to run easy being a week before Edinburgh. In the meantime I've just scrounged a place at the Tees Barrage event this Monday so thats something to look forward to. Nice chaps those organiser people.

I'll leave you with this quote from Julius Caesar ('salad')...'Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; Methinks he trains too much'.

(The photo above was Aggies idea?)

North Tyneside 10k Road Race

2011-04-24T13:25:00.006+01:00

It was hot, hot, hot today at the North Tyneside 10k. The sun was all wrong for snapping the athletes and runners, but persevered in any case with the camera to take a load of snaps.

Looked like Batochir fresh from his top ten placing in last weekends London Marathon from Ian Harding (Both Morpeth). Rosie Smith of Durham City was well ahead at the 5m mark.

Photographs on the Flickr site now (click on right photo for link to the gallery) .

Race results at this link http://www.northtyneside.gov.uk/browse-display.shtml?p_ID=524848&p_subjectCategory=431

London Marathon 2011

2011-04-18T17:51:00.022+01:00

Nipped down with some of the family to Richmond on Friday to stay with friends. We avoided the M1 Bridge debacle. After a convivial night, we made our way over on the tube and train in the mid-day heat to Excel to register for the London Marathon. Plenty of stalls but not many freebies. Having checked out the forecast, I bought a new sleek black cap to wear just in case it got hot. The rest of the guys had travelled down earlier.

Weighted down with bags slung over our shoulders we made our way to Covent Garden where the hotel was. I thought I'd better start the pre race saturation so bought a large bottle of water (at great expense). Dumped the bags, freshened up then wandered around Leicester Square looking for grub in the early evening heat. Not the best preparation before running 26 miles.

Up early on Sunday Morning I had a grapefruit, 2 croissants and coffee, caught the free train and found myself (and club mates) at Blackheath before 8:30am on race day. We got the team photo taken and then sat around for an hour on the grass in the ‘good for age' pen. I saw a few familiar faces including David Daniels, Brian Cruickshank and Steve Marshall. Pinned the gels in the shorts, made sure ipod was working and that the Vaseline was spread liberally into those little crevices. I chucked my bag into the baggage bus and jogged about abit unconvincingly (knowing that I was in a select pen with most guys who were probably faster and more experienced than me). The call went up and we lined up. I then realised I had forgotten my new cap which I'd carefully taken out of my bag and subsequently then placed back into my bag. Nothing to be done. Klaxon sounded and we were off.

I was well back and started easily without the ipod, instead soaking up the atmosphere and cheering crowds. By 2 miles I realised it would be a hot one and began to survey the road as I ran to see if I could find any suitable discarded headgear. I ran across some sunglasses and missed a white cap but soon another green cap was there lying on the road at my feet and I scuffed my knuckles picking it up (without losing any time! -they should try teaching that technique at marathon training camp). I rinsed it on the move at the drinks station and spent the rest of the race wearing it (sometimes you've just got to improvise to survive, especially if you’re bald with the sun high over the yard arm in foreign fields).

I initially ran behind a couple of Colombian runners then pulled ahead. I was having to work a little from 5 miles and spent as much time dodging the bottles scattered around the bottle stops every mile or so. Some runners were launching half full bottles across the sky and I thought 'marathon school' should teach them to slide them along the floor to the kerb like the bikies do.

I was never in a group. It was completely fluid albeit that we were all hemmed in like running bulls at the festival. Herd Culture.

I had the camera phone and took some snaps as I ran. I had garmin trouble early on when ‘gel fever’ meant I kept stopping and starting the buttons rather than just pressing the 'lap time', so gave up early watching my time and pace. The little printed pace 3:10 pace wristband that I thought would be my saviour became a joke. It was too small and too precise and I grew to treat it with contempt for the 26 miles we were together. We parted soon after.

I thought there were loads of Carnethys but a second look suggested they were the Serpentine Club and the same went for a clutch of Dunbar runners who turned out to be from Bracknell - similar vests. By 16 miles my toe was sore and I thought it was a blister so stopped on the kerb to remove my shoe and adjust my sock---any excuse for a breather!

I passed a walking Border Harrier in mid-race and then a few other walkers as things really began to warm up. It was a hot, stuffy sort of heat, probably because of the lack of wind. At 20 miles in need of different stimulation I plugged in the Ipod, and went with a few oldies. It was AC/DC who got the party started. I was tiring now and whatever the plans were, keeping moving and being focused means everything else is abandoned. You become oblivious. At the Embankment where crowds were 3 and 4 deep I came to a crawling runner in the middle of the road and helped him to the side. After chucking the borrowed green cap to the’ grateful’ audience with 400yds to go, I got entangled with another collapsing runner before marshals took over, helping him to the side. The runner whose legs had gone still mouthed the words that he ‘had to finish’ even as he crumpled, such was the spirit of his determination.

I finished in 3:01:30, pretty done in but pleased managing 8 or 10 minutes ahead of where I thought I’d be.

Meeting up with the Wolfpack in the Silver Cross pub on Whitehall, led to the usual race post mortem. Everyone agreed it had been a 'big day out'.

Huge crowds, big scenery and an international festival atmosphere make this a 'must-do' event. Tried to find someone at the end to swap vests with but didn't manage.

Still high on participation. Tremendous.

The Adventure Show

2011-04-15T06:56:00.004+01:00

Catch the last episode of 'The Adventure Show' now on BBC IPlayer to watch this years Carnethy and a series of interviews. There were some familiar faces on it with interviews and comments from NFR, Portobello and Elvet runners among others, and fleeting glimpses of many others.

50,000

2011-04-14T09:24:00.007+01:00

AMcD, targeting a second career finish in the marathon event insists he is ‘brimming with optimism’ as he takes on 50,000 other runners at this weekend’s London Marathon. McD finished easily within 30 minutes of the winner at last year’s Edinburgh marathon and in his words was ‘very nearly close to the podium and comfortably beat off a combined late challenge from the baggage bus and the back end of a pantomime horse’. In that event he spent what he describes as ‘a good while jockeying with elite athletes in the front group just before the gun went off'. After a recent 5km race in Newcastle where he recorded his slowest ever time, the 47-year old is surprisingly upbeat and will be back as the crowds favourite, ahead of many other distressed runners sporting 'interesting' late race techniques.

He said ‘It is 2011 and we have a new season and my training has gone miserably in the build up to London. I started carbo loading in December and now I will now be able to reap the rewards -pass me a biscuit’

His coach, Aunt Aggie, herself a stalwart of the local over 70's zoomba scene said ‘he can expect a steady run to the 10 mile mark and then he’s on his own’, adding ‘who knows, after that things could get wobbly for him..very wobbly. Maybe he looks out for St Johns or maybe he has a few sit downs’.

Edinburgh was a very special occasion for the wee man. He says ‘I felt very positive being sprayed down by a hoodie with a water hose in Prestonpans, but London could be even wetter, especially if I go off course down by the docks. I will be looking out for the other half of the pantomime horse and taking many pictures. Of course much depends on the weather but I think a slow run is possible. I have spent several weeks sleeping in an altitude tent and wake every morning groggy and disorientated just like what I imagine I’ll be like at 20 miles’.

His English remains poor.

Soft cheese at Tebay

2011-04-09T11:10:00.007+01:00

Spent Friday doing some work in Alderley Edge. It was a cracking spring day. I had a cheese pasty for lunch and bought some smoked cheese and coffee, squeezing my way out from between all those fancy cars and glamorous folk.

On the way home I opted for the M6 and let my mind slip into neutral as I cruised up past Kendal. I thought I really should do some miles when I get home, but after a 3 hour drive, I thought I'd probably just crash out in a slovenly heap with a can or a mug of tea. For many years now I've been up and down this road, and, as you near Tebay you can't miss the plump, rounded Hills (I think their the Howgills) that I've always thought would be good for a weekend run. I checked the temperature and it was still up around 15 degrees so it didn't take long before I was swooping off the motorway and parking up near the Barnaby Rudge Pub, shovelling on the Walshes which were a bit tight and setting off for a jog in the late afternoon sun.

The wall of noise from the M6 was soon replaced by warbling bird life up on the hill as I climbed the grassy slope before reaching the top and running along what looked like an old droving road perched on the rolling ridge southward. The route was grassy with a lot of damp sedge which, had it been wetter, would have made for a boggy run, but today it was spongy and easy underfoot.

Ran for around 30 minutes before turning back. The path went on ahead to some bigger hills and I think I'll be back and a little more prepared to spend longer on them. The fell shoes stretched as they became wet and I stopped for a few snaps and made my way back to the car, making do with the cheese that had been slowly simmering on the dashboard, a smoothie some time later from the local store in Carlisle and Pete Tong to accompany me on the way home.

Up this morning for a park run. I can't run first thing but it's a week now before London so hauled myself out of bed just to see how far off the pace I am. Scraped in just under 19 minutes so still about 6 or 7% off my usual pace so expecting to finish around 3:15 to 3:20 next week but at least no pain or niggles in the legs and actually looking forward to a nice day out next Sunday.

Streetlife

2011-04-03T14:59:00.005+01:00

Fifty or so miles this week. It was a novelty to run twelve on Thursday evening through the flat lanes of Somerset. The hedges on each side of the narrow road restricted the view and before I knew it I found myself near to Glastonbury. To get there, however, would have added more than another hour to a run that was already slowing so I made the wise choice and turned back to the guesthouse. The flies were out in force.

Friday was spent in Cornwall and then it was back up the road via Gloucester yesterday for a new pair of trainers (as you do!).

I was committed to 20 miles this morning so, to make it remotely interesting, I ran to Blyth to see the local 10k and then plodded back into the wind managing just over 2:20 for the round trip. The last 3 miles were slow but the new shoes were a treat and I didn't realise how 'past it' the last ones were even though there was plenty of tread left on them.

I'll aim for around 50 mile this week with a couple of long runs and the rest made up of whatever comes along. Still lugging around several extra pounds, but not the wallet kind.

Run Northumberland Half Marathon (2011)

2011-03-27T11:35:00.003+01:00

Afternoon delight. Well, actually it was morning and on the bike I caught the lads out in the lanes for their 2 hour special. I headed on to Hartburn village on the route of this new half marathon. After 10 minutes the first of many appeared from around the leafy lanes.

As the runners passed me at around the 5 mile mark the sun was burning the clouds away and most runners at the Run Northumberland Half marathon were a wee bit overdressed. I soon found a small pile of discarded clothes beside my bike. James Buis rattled by in first position and even managed a smile. Perched on a dry stone wall and trying to get a few interesting angles I fell off the wall onto the road which with my dodgy back and cleated cycling shoes gave a few of the runners a moment of high comedy, probably the only one on this rolling but very scenic half marathon. After dropping of the various garments at the nearest marshall, I made for home to upload these. 18 on the bike followed by a hard 14 run this aft. Photos on the photo link (click on picture -right). Results up somewhere later.

Regime Change

2011-03-26T08:56:00.005Z

I've clocked in around 30 miles running this week. Some have been good miles, some bad and some have been run at a pace little more than a jog.

Aggies new mantra is 'if you can't run , knit'. She's recently taken up knitting and sits happy in her own world purling with a number 11 under the stairs. Its a pain when she gets a new hobby. She's been waltzing round 'casting off' that and 'binding on' this. She was wittering on about a dropped stitch this morning. She says confidently that she's knitting a tea cosy, but from what I've seen no-ones got a tea pot that size.

The new regime of crispbread, celery and water hasn't yet materialised owing to a combination of poor attitude, a burgeoning biscuit barrel, a wide selection of jams and marmalades and a string of social's over the last (and next) few days. This included a trip out for a spicy curry last night. I seem to be tapering successfully but without the training beforehand. The carbo loading also seems to be a wee bit premature.

I put myself through some unusual and awkward angles at the pilates class on Thursday night. I must have been trying too hard, though, as last night I was stooping and creaking with lower backache like a downstairs character from an old Dickens novel. Any notion of a 'park run try out' this morning was binned. Instead I'll try an hour on the bike in the drizzle and then maybe a slow hours running later through the woods.

There was a chink of light yesterday when me and my domestique loaded the bikes up in the car and took off to Thrunton Forest, the local hub of mountain biking in the area. The electric blue Crossbow, at last, made its debut appearance and got its fat cyclo-cross tyres and cantilever brakes dirty albeit only for 45 minutes along sweeping forest tracks. They were mostly surfaced with red felsite and it looked like there had been some tree felling there recently, the tracks being flattened by HGV movements and easy to ride along. Good fun though. Still looking at doing a sportive or time trial this year. Anyway, cup of tea time .....

Brough Law Fell Race 2011

2011-03-20T16:31:00.003Z

Yep... Yet more weekend photos. Brough Law Fell Race 2011 - click on the photo on the right hand side.

Vaane XC Champs 2011

2011-03-19T14:51:00.003Z

North East England Veteran Athletics (VAANEE) Cross Country Championships 2011 at Monkseaton.... Photos at the link below..

http://www.flickr.com/photos/34070057@N06/sets/

Another day in Northumberland

2011-03-18T13:31:00.005Z

With the short survey at Belford completed by 10am, it seemed a shame not to drive 5 miles further north and park up at the causeway which leads out to Holy Island. Its Norman priory stands on the site of an Anglo-Saxon monastery founded by St Aidan in A.D 635 when King Oswald was doing the rounds in the locality. The castle was built in the 16th Century but only saw action during the 1745 uprising.

I avoided the centre and swung around through the mossy tracks that wind through the sand dunes beside the beach.

The island attracts plenty of tourists during the summer but its quiet during the early months and todays offering was an easy 45 minutes across the tidal flats and dunes before turning back into a brisk westerly. Its easily the farthest I've jogged since my lay off a month ago. I had to make sure I checked the tides and made it back to the car with 10 minutes to space. I reckon my legs have had plenty time now to sort themselves out and with the longer nights coming in, I'm chomping at the bit to get back into shape. The amorphous look doesn't suit me! I'm not completely ignoring the slow road to recovery and am adding cycling and pilates to the schedule.

An old lady stopped half way along the road and we exchanged photos and our appreciation of what a beautiful place it is. Getting back home for a cheese toastie I caught my shadow on the kitchen wall and can't help feeling I'm turning into Nosferatu.

Saddle Torture

2011-03-12T12:30:00.003Z

After my rub down on Thursday, I had a walk-jog-walk in the woods yesterday and spent most of the yesterday evening trying not to be pre-occupied by my so called recovering calf tear. Watching a scary movie, I supped my glass of British red wine (8.8%) and had to remember that it wasn't blackcurrant juice. This morning after 2 croissants, coffee and a heavy downpour, I was in that 'will I or won't I' dilemma. A bit like having two margarines on the go at the same time. Two or three miles didn't seem too far, surely?

In the end I adopted my own advice which was that the speed of an injury recovery is partly (or probably) mostly dependent on the patience of the athlete. So, instead I decided to go out on the bike as there was no wind and calfs are only bit players when it comes to pedalling.

As it turned out, I had a really enjoyable 2 hours to Newcastle and back, with a slight tailwind developing on the way back. Snapped a photo of a bus belching out clouds of exhaust. The sticker on the back said 'Cleaner Engine, Cleaner Air' - cleaner than what....? The potholes were all over the place as I ate up the road but I imagined I was riding the Paris-Roubaix and that this sort of saddle torture was par for the course. It was, therefore, with some irony that I actually found myself riding along a cobbled street before turning back.

I stopped at a corner shop on the outskirts of the City for a can of Irn Bru and choc bar and happened to meet the former owner of Steels Bike Shop in Gosforth. We had a good natter about mostly nothing but on the way back I reminded myself about the racing team Thornaby CRT-Been Bag he used to sponsor and had a few ideas about re-forming the club under that banner.

The ipod was on shuffle and I made my way back to a strange mix which included Harry Chapin, Rush, Katy Perry, and Donna Summer. Nice to get back out, whatever the sport and whatever the music.

Prices...wot prices?!

2011-03-05T20:00:00.005Z

Watched a programme on Ron Sexsmith (singer/songwriter) last night. Didn't know who or what he was until last night. Wandered out today (to the computer) to download his album. Enjoying it much.

Meanwhile, a trip to the Trimpell 20 has been binned following a visit to the Physio today. With it goes my entry fees and 'free' t-shirt and medal and, no doubt, the possibilities for me of making up a crack team who might have had a go at the team prize. I was going down with the Morpeth Wolf Pack. They'll be one grey (or bald) wolf short tomorrow. Then went shopping. Why is everything soooo expensive now.

Like a few others out in Blogland I've been out of action. Legs that don't work are a pain. Its only when you're not running that you value the release running offers, not to mention the craic.

I've rested up all this week. Stretched occasionally and told myself to be patient. I opted for the gentler touch of a new physio. She was good if a little pricey. I wasn't writhing in agony. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. She also offers colonic irrigation and something called ear-candling. She advocates irrigation. 'Good (she says) for lots of things'. I said if it meant I could at least run the London Marathon and take 5 minutes off my time, she should book me in. I'm back for more leg rubbing later in the week. But at the moment as far a running goes, I'm a spectator.

The computers playing Rose Royce now so I'll clear off. Its clearly time for my ear candling. Do I have to bring my own wax?

Out of the Pits

2011-02-26T19:14:00.004Z

It was touch and go this morning but I'm not the patient type so packed my bag and legged it to Gateshead for today's round of the North East Cross Country series. Wrekenton is a cross country on a former pit heap so the ground is gravelly and not bad at all. The remnants of the pit heap forms the main focal point and competitors run up and down three times and around some wet fields, but, all in all, it's not too testing as XC goes.

Started very easily and took it easy on the first lap, then began motoring on the second working my way up to 30th-ish. Had to jettison my hat as the sun came out halfway through. By the third and final lap I'd used up my meagre reserves and hung on unconvincingly for 50ish something as some of the fast lads started to come through. Numbed by a couple of brufen, the calf and knee were fine. Tonight, the knee aches abit but a good nights kip might do the trick and hopefully it'll cope with tomorrows 15 miler. May have to have a wee snifter to make sure it sleeps soundly! Medicinal, you know.

Aggies Wee Doll

2011-02-18T08:27:00.008Z

I was down in Leeds yesterday and wasn't far from an old mill over the canal off Moss Road that's now been demolished...with it went these images. I took a few b&w snaps ages ago. Some amazing work by a grafitti artist or art student. Always meant to return to get some colour photos.

Meanwhile, the spirit's eager but the flesh is weak. ..and its getting more decrepit every day that this shiftless spring stagnation continues (see what I did there with that alliteration - only excitement I get at the moment). I have a 20 miler in 2 weeks time but had to dip out of the session on Monday, hobbling halfway back to the club before I remembered I'd ran down from home, so, as with every good politician, I had to contemplate a u-turn.

I've got 4 pounds to shift before then and a whole lot of lost mileage to catch up on, but someone's sabotaged my left leg. Its all very subtle. Knee pain that disappears when I stop running and which also responds to brufen and a lower calf thats tighter than me on a night out but not so far down as to be an achilles thing. I'm off to see the physio on Monday. I daren't touch the bike in case its something to do with the cycling.

Meanwhile Aunt Aggie, mumbling away all the while, contents herself by sitting in the corner over the embers with a wee woolly doll, a secret smile and a handful of pins.

Team Orders

2011-02-08T09:00:00.008Z

I frequently watch TV nestled in an atmosphere of apathy. Sometimes this spills into mild psychosis if I'm really bored or the programme turgid. When I think about it, there's not been many times when I've stood in the middle of the lounge with my cowbells clanking, shouting at the glass screen (at least not since I stopped getting Eurosport).

Adverts are treated with disdain. I casually comment on the nonsense they often pedal to get their message across. Aunt Aggie now believes there are indeed five phases of fartlek, four signs of fatigue, seven symptoms of ageing, that meercats can talk and that every shampoo has a secret or unique ingredient.

Languishing around with a heavy cold for the last week I've watched too much telly so when I ventured out and managed 5 miles last night, the cabin fever began to fall away. Team orders were promptly issued to enter the 'Trimpell 20' race. The fastest 20m race in the country apparently, but that assumes you're fit and can run fast. It's sponsored by Pete Bland, so I might be able to cash in my 2009 vouchers if he's got a stand there. I did enjoy my last 20 miler, the Edinburgh to North Berwick last year. Well. enjoyed it up to the 15 mile point when I became dehydrated and fell off the back of the group I was in. I've since got a marathon under my belt so I'm a bit wiser in terms of endurance.

The legs seem fine now but everything's a bit weedy from inactivity. As I lift my head to cough and splutter and swill the yellow remnants of my 'cold remedy drink' in my mug, I catch the shadow of the April marathon behemoth heaving itself over the far horizon and it occurs to me that I better get my 's#*t wired' (as they said last night in Starship Troopers 3) and get some miles in toute suite.

Saddle Up

2011-02-01T08:55:00.007Z

I was pretty baffled by my knee pain resulting in a premature exit from Saturdays Northern XC competition. Fair enough I had suffered a bout of cramp at Simonside a fortnight earlier and then from a strained calf toward the end of run at the Devils Burdens run last weekend, but the calf had recovered quite well over the following week, so this knee thing was a mystery.

I've only been a DNF statistic once before in the 7 years I've been running competitively. I had been out on the bike the day before for 20 miles, but it was a slow easy ride so no cause there, surely.

Rather than doing my usual long Sunday run I went out on the bike for another quiet steady ride. Those lads at Breeze Bikes had got the machine working a treat and I was still going nicely along the damp, leaf strewn lanes after an hour. There were plenty of bikies out. I got back to the house with 30 miles in the bank and sponged the machine down with warm soapy water. Later in the afternoon the knee pain was still there and I suppose the giveaway was that it had spread from my left knee to my right knee as well.

On Monday it was looking like I would have to give the Scottish Masters XC at Kirkcaldy this Saturday a miss and I contented myself later in the afternoon (after a meeting) with nipping into Northern Runner to get a new pair of fell shoes. The Salomons have been great for the last 14 months, but at £80 a pair in other shops, I opted for a pair of Walsh's which I'm sure will do the job. It was during a conversation in the shop that it was suggested that the bike might be the problem and, more specifically, the position of the seat. I nodded at this sagely, after all, I am an ex-bikie and know all about this sort of thing. But as I passed over my cash and vouchers, the latter a prize that I was advised dated from 2008, I realised that the seat did feel a bit low and I'd spent no time ensuring it was in the right place.

I thanked Mr S for his advice and accepting the antique vouchers and, getting home, checked the saddle position of the Ridley, comparing it to my old track bike. It was an inch lower and about 2 inches further back. It all made complete sense then and I felt like I should be wearing a cone with a big 'D' on the front. To celebrate this breakthrough I popped a couple of brufen and went out for a 6 mile run with the crowd (but without the 6 minute efforts!) which passed without incident. I'm pleased to say I've adjusted the saddle and just might manage Saturdays run. Auntie Aggie gave the bike the once over and thinks the saddle 'might 'do me a mischief' but I told her I wear plenty of padding. She likes the colour but said it's not the bike for her as it doesn't have a basket, and in any case she's no masochist, she'll stick to her Raleigh shopper, thank you very much. I guess I should be thankful.

Northern England XC Championships

2011-01-29T20:14:00.002Z

The soft conditions underfoot might have suited the athletes who turned out for the Northern England Cross Country Championships, but it took 2 tractors to pull several cars out of the country park after the wet ground softened after a hard nights frost.

I managed a lap before throwing in the towel with knee pain, but thankfully there were enough guys ahead for me not to be a counter. Results up at the Race Results site. Selected Photos in the gallery (click on the picture in the right hand column).

Devils Burdens Relays, Fife (2011)

2011-01-22T22:23:00.012Z

It was all just a blur...
Driving north, we ignored the thick mist over the Forth Road Bridge and made our way to Falkland. It was my first appearance at the Devils Burdens Relay, a relay race across the heather clad Lomond Hills in Fife.
It's run over 31 km and consists of 4 legs for teams of 6 (2 legs run in pairs).
I was on Leg 3 with Steve Mason with 6.4 miles and 1800ft of ascent (and descent) to contend with. I took a couple of snaps of the 9.30a.m. start for the 'slower' runners and then cleared off to Scotlandwell where the third leg started. There was a great buzz around the Falkland HQ which I guess is becoming the Scottish club opener for the hill running season.

Having ran Simonside the previous weekend and only having 20 miles of light training this week, I felt quite fresh but couldn't decide on what to wear. Eventually going with the gloves and hat, base layer and tracksuit top, we were soon off after the kit check up Bishop Hill as bodies arrived and left in a constant stream of sweaty (or is that glowing) humanity. There was a vast array of techniques, fashions and club regalia on display today and the weather was calm, mild and thankfully clear on the high ground.

We sat behind the Ochil duo of Andrea Priestley and Catriona Buchanan for a while and then saw 2 Portobello's come past; then we passed a Lothian team. Many of the pools of water and puddles were frozen which made jumping across them a bit tasty if you happened to catch your heel on the edge of the ice. We were overhauled, in turn, on the main climb of the day up West Lomond by John Kay, one part of the Fife team. Being the local boys, we followed them and careered downhill before traversing the North face of the Lomond (really just an impossible traverse along a steeply cambered grassy slope) for a mile or so. This was tricky as my Salomons are just about to give up the ghost.
Overheating on the low ground I stopped and gubbed a couple of handfuls of water from the burn before we headed into West Kilgour Forest as a Lomond runner and 1 or 2 others came past. We managed to haul in a Bellahouston team as my partner for the day found another gear on the mile of tarmac which led to the end of the stage.

Strangely I had been happy on the hill, but like Simonside, I struggled with some calf muscle tightening when the gradient levelled out and was happy to see the line and smiled at the melee of coming and going at Strathmiglo. It was a right old stramash. Sorted a lift back to the car and then soup at the finish.

There are always plenty of club entries for Carnethy from Ireland and south of the border so I reckon this is an excellent team day out and should attract good runners from down south. What else is there to do in January anyway. I'm sure I'll be back!
Ended 24th of 100 teams. It was a cracking day out. Results now up at
http://bcruickshank.brinkster.net/DB_results2011.htm
(Photos of Stage 2 finishers and Stage 3 runners coming soon).
Thanks to the photographer, you know who you are!

Simonside Fell Race 2011

2011-01-16T15:46:00.008Z

When was the last time in Northumberland the winner of a fell race was a runner from Ochils and when did the first 5 finishers include runners from Lochaber, HBT and Dark Peak. Well it was today at the Simonside Cairns Fell race.

As the drizzle came down at the start of this eleven miler, one hundred runners struggled with their wardrobes weighing up the pro’s and con’s of wearing their jackets, or short sleeve or long sleeve, two layers or three or tights, shorts or those clingy lycra pedal pusher things. One thing was for sure. We were all were going to get our feet wet. This race is well known for giving each runner first hand experience of luxuriant, deep sphagnum moss, boulders, peat and challenging running conditions.

Setting off from Rothbury, the first two miles is uphill on a combination of road and trail before the real graft begins. The path reverts to a barely discernible mix of reed grass and heather and soggy gravelly channels filled with water as dark as an Islay malt in a pint of black stout. Plenty of styles to step across or fall over as well. I sat in behind David Armstrong (NFR) and Neil Cassidy of Tynedale but there was a lot of adjustment in the order as the conditions prevailed. It really was a question of concentrating hard on every step, deciding when and where to jump or skirt or plough through the murky and often icy water.

I was 3rd in this race last year. I should add that this was because 3 or 4 lads in front went walkabouts. This year I counted at least 12 ahead and I didn’t recognise many of the front runners. Incomers. But from where?

It was windy as hell as we went over the top of the hill, but at least it was mild as I kept the compact group of Redman (NFR), Murray (Teviotdale) and Daniels (u/a) in my sights. I was passed by Armstrong at around four miles and then David Steel (NFR) at five and had that sinking feeling as I hung off the back of this handy posse, envious of the possible shelter and unable to harness my horsepower or to get my feet to go where I wanted through the saturated ankle deep moss and heather. Mincing across the skittish duck boards, I was 20 seconds adrift as we cut through the forest and then 30 seconds as they pulled away at Dove Crag. Daniels stopped a few times and he fell behind just before the forest. Reaching the top of the crag, I told myself I was good on the downhill and at last found some inertia over the newly laid trail of geometrical blocks of buff gritstone. It seems someone’s been building a new roman road.

I was working hard now and eventually caught Armstrong at around 8 miles but David Steel proved more elusive and I only managed to catch up with him with just over a mile to go, just as Redman, who had seemingly gone off course earlier passed me and just as I developed a familiar cramping twinge in my hamstring.

I slowed and running back into Rothbury, I was happy to keep the cramp at bay and finish without having to stop. I had a natter with some of the lads, a quick change and then a cup of broth soup in the Newcastle Hotel with the photographer for the day. For the purposes of the blog he said he was to be referred to as ‘the outsider’. As the prizes were dished out I was comforted to know that my relegation from the top 10 was partly a result of the appearance of Messrs Anthony, Gay and Smith who spiced things up at the front. The ‘outsider’ said that Anthony looked like he was really shifting. That’s probably why he won. Results and photos up already on the NFR Website. More photos on the link on the right margin.

Discharge at the vicarage

2011-01-11T18:06:00.003Z

I went back up to Amble to retrieve the Ridleys. They've been languishing in the bike shop over the Christmas break. Its hard to believe I blogged about them back in October when I was planning the re-launch of my cycling career.

Great to have both back intact, even though there's only 1 or 2 cyclo-cross events left. I know I won't do anything other than hopefully get round the courses, but it's a start. If I am the vicar of Ridley, then its nice to have the bikes back at the vicarage!

Anyroads, it was a cracking cold fresh day so I ran for 40 minutes along the beach south of the town.

Aunt Aggie came out as well in her knitted briefs and mp3. She even had her teeth in. She's downloaded a group from Oz called Temper Trap and I must say they sound pretty funky, even for an old bird like Aggie. Sort of snow patrol-ish she says. I think Midnight Oil meets synth (for the re-mixed tracks anyway). Fifteen miles run on Sunday and another 8 last night before I hobbled off to the clubhouse with a dodgy knee ligament thing. Will try the woods tomorrow if I'm up to it.

I leave you with a lush picture of fresh discharge.

Ross Bay

2011-01-05T17:35:00.010Z

The landmarks of Bamburgh Castle and Lindisfarne are well known tourist destinations on the north east coast line in Northumberland. I've never explored the coast between them and only ever been to Lindisfarne once. It would be good to run across the causeway to Lindisfarne when the tides out. I took the opportunity at lunchtime today to get a bit closer.

Leaving Belford I headed east across the A1 and railway line and ran around 7 minute pace on good roads. It was all downhill for 3 miles before the fields levelled off and I could catch the nip of the salty sea air.

There was no one around the deserted roads. A few puddles were still covered in ice and there was also some patchy black ice. After passing a couple of farms, the road ran out and became a sandy track covered with moss. Nice and springy underfoot.

I continued across the undulating Ross Links with the dunes and Marram grass in front of me and had to cross a low lying boggy patch. I couldn't see a way around it and failed to keep my feet dry, dancing in vain around the icy puddles and across the thin ice which was so thin it broke as soon as my foot hit it. With squelching shoes, I soon arrived at the lonely beach of Ross Bay with the Castle visible to the south and Lindisfarne to the north. The Farne Islands were just discernible beyond the breaking waves. On another day I might have carried on northward but as 30 minutes had passed already, it was time to turn back to run the 4 miles back to Belford.

Hillforts Fell Race & the Morpeth 11k

2011-01-01T17:28:00.005Z

It was the Hillforts Fell Race at Rothbury this morning and the Morpeth 11k this afternoon. Managed to get a few good photos of both which are now uploaded (click link on right).

The results of the Hill forts race are on the NFR site and the 11k results are on the Morpeth Harriers site. Superfast reporting. Top Marks.

Alien landscape

2010-12-30T09:59:00.012Z

Yesterday. Heading south at lunchtime I drove down the A1 with my running gear in the boot but without the usual paraphernalia of ipod and garmin. I caught glimpses of thickets of white, whispy mist that clung to the low ground around Prestonpans, North Berwick and East Linton and it wasn’t long before I felt powerless to resist the pull of a possible run in a strange and photogenic environment; I turned left into Dunbar and dumped the car off Belhaven Road where I had some privacy to change from shirt and tie to lycra.

There was still snow on the ground, but with the thaw in full swing there was more green than white and I set off initially up and down the flights of coastal concrete stairs, heading along the Coastal Trail that quickly became the John Muir Way. Tacking along the cliffs and across the edge of Winterfield Golf Club, the ground was still hard but the thaw meant that I could choose my path over the crust of icy exposed grass and reeds.

I kept the sand and hoards of daft exercising spaniels on my right and continued west. Not knowing quite where I was going I jogged past little groups of dog walkers and couples. Through thick green damp thickets of Scots Pine the ground was a carpet of pine needles, moss and abandoned cones. I encountered an amorous Labrador called Humphrey who clearly needed to get out more. Why would you call your dog Humphrey.

Appearing out of the trees, I continued onto the flat, soft red silt and reedy clumps and stumps of Belhaven Bay. Driftwood and a corridor of concrete blocks, remnants from the last war. It was empty, open, desolate and beautiful in the mist. I could hear the birds, oystercatchers, curlews and geese competing across the shallow water and grey mudflats of the estuary. As the sands narrowed I caught sight of a lazy heron and the unmistakable metallic blue body of a kingfisher.

I continued up through Salt Green and having run for an hour, I could make out the road noise of the A1 in the distance by then.

I turned south and cut across a couple of fields with Tyninghome House behind me and lopped along some frozen tracks and hedges and past a field crammed with Brussels sprouts resembling a regiment of small perfectly formed green jackets as the sun dipped and the mist dropped back into fields.

I worked my way back through the Plantation and across the Golf Course meeting an older guy, a runner, who wanted to chat about a surfer, collecting driftwood and his life in general but time was getting on.

It was a slow but uplifting adventure. It's good to explore new places.

Have a Good One

2010-12-24T17:21:00.007Z

Christmas is nearly here and this cross training malarkey is just the job; clearing the drive and road every other day interspersed by pushing the odd car and hauling bags full of milk, bread and lager I’ll never drink a mile and a half up the hill, home. Does this qualify as hill training. I think so.

The ice has sliced through my normally packed training schedule and I am beginning to resemble one of the two plump pigeons that have taken up residence next to the frequently replenished bird table. They’re filling out more every day and are looking increasingly tasty. It’s been a very popular venue for birdlife in recent weeks.

After scrawling some last minute items on a scrap of paper , I took myself down the shops first thing this morning. I stopped and bought some cosmetics. Having paid the young, smiling and heavily made up assistant she gave me a voucher for £2 off hair care products. Having a laugh there, I said.

Having lost my list, I then had to improvise. It was along to the jewellers next. No, not trading in the paltry reserves of family gold, although I may have to resort to this in January when the bank manager calls and starts the conversation ‘ I regret to advise you...’ . Having a mooch amongst the rings and bangles inside the shop, I overheard the girl at the till asking a middle aged bloke shrouded beneath his woolly hat if he was ‘all set’ as she wrapped up his purchase. He replied, manfully, that he was’ just starting’.

I succumbed to the quadraphonic bling onslaught and bought myself a trinket (well, it is Christmas and all those sparkly things, well..who could resist). The lady serving me told me how she intended spending Christmas day. She was going to cook Dijon dill brussels and a nut roast. All that veg. I asked her if she wanted to supplement those dishes with a couple of delicious pigeons. I then did my daily act of random kindness by admitting that she’d undercharged me. I left a wee bit poorer in the pocket but feeling like a saint. It was then to the battery shop to get batteries for my headtorch. Haven’t used it yet. I thought I might need it for looking in those dark places for the unwanted household gold.

It’s just as well the weathers pants. My efforts at assembling the Ridley cyclo-cross frame with old bike parts has failed miserably and my new road bike is suffering from block and chain incompatibility. There's nothing worse, eh?! I admitted defeat as the cyclo cross season passed by like a muddy off-road boat in the night and took both bikes to the shop. They are, it seems, struggling as well. I’m not expecting to get them back before the new year. Apparently the old parts I’ve tried to put on these new fangled super duper frames would be more suited to ‘Bargain Hunt’.

I’m looking forward to the Fife Relays late in late January (if they’re on) and will be heading down the gym before the new year. This snowbound torpor can’t go on. I read its less than 20 weeks to the London marathon. There’s a sobering thought. Have a good one. All the best.

All Hands on Deck

2010-12-20T15:26:00.006Z

The four musketeers carved out 14 snowy miles yesterday morning up Beacon Hill on the side roads. I went down a clatter on ice coming down one of the hills as I took my attention off the road momentarily. Then more snow arrived as a windy sea fret brought in 4 inches (that's 100mm for all you euro-metric types) during the afternoon. Car bedlam in town. Perversely entertaining (unless you were in a car, that is).

Spent a couple of hours into the evening clearing the road and pushing cars. Some rear wheel drive vehicles were pants in the snow and only good for abandoning.

Managed 4 miles today as the mercury dropped out the bottom end of the thermometer and my knee has a delayed reaction from yesterdays ground-hugging incident.

Saltwell 10k 2010

2010-12-18T14:22:00.009Z

A small, committed crowd worked their clogs off at Saltwell's annual 10k race today in sub-zero temperatures. There was no chance of anyone overheating and the drinks station seemed to have reverted to serving slush puppies. There should have been a prize for the runner with the most layers on.

Although the Canada Geese were out in force and making a nuisance of themselves it was Morpeth's Johnny Taylor who hammered round the three and a half lap race in Gateshead well ahead of the gaggle of chasing athletes from Birtley, Bingley and other local clubs.

In the women's race I left as the flying Hester Dix of Blaydon neared the finish. She was being closed down by Claire Simpson of Chester Le Street with team mate Angela Hunter third.

Top vet from Pitreavie, Jeff Farqhuar, finished well up.

More photos of the Saltwell 2010 10k - 'click' on Photo collection Link on the right of this blog....

Ginger Wine

2010-12-15T22:21:00.009Z

P and A take part in a race. Its a 2 lap race. Both laps are the same distance. The total distance is 2.86 miles. P sets off 5 minutes earlier than A. A's time for the 2nd lap was 8:31. P's total time was 21:54. What was A's time and why was the timekeeper not there to record both times? Write your answer clearly and legibly. Points will be awarded for working out.

As my mind wandered this afternoon, I recalled that the Club handicap was on tonight and sure enough it said so right there on the website. With a forecast of snow tomorrow, I thought it might be an idea to run it as, at this rate, who knows when the race programme will return or where my next race is coming from.

I nipped down the staircase to the draughty and dimly lit wine cellar and selected the Cava over the Rioja to take down for the Secret Santa. I grabbed my ginger wig and jock bonnet (got to start getting used to fancy dress for London you see) and wrapped up the bottle with plenty of sellotape and then jogged the 2 miles to the club house. It was all dark and quiet. I hung around for 5 minutes before P arrived. She had also come armed with a bottle. We had, it seemed, been wrong footed by a late postponement.

No matter. Joined by M, who was also in the dark about the new arrangements and who recently had ran a stormer of a first half marathon at Abingdon, the three of us set off and decided that we'd run the race anyway. It was nice and roomy along the course and no-one complained that I had a ginger wig with bobble bonnet on or got all excited at me for wearing my Ipod. As I ran I caught sight of my shadow a couple of times under the lonely orange glare of the streetlights. It was odd seeing the outline of my head with hair (just like old times!), the bobble above waving randomly and out of sync. M spent both laps on my shoulder, but he'd just been for a big dinner and was happy to cruise round behind me.

When we finished M said he was pleased that I had slowed down a bit on the 2nd lap, but I assured him it wasn't by choice. I suppose it was the headgear. I might have to work on the aero-dynamics. Maybe a smaller bobble or different tartan.

A good blast and useful rehearsal should I decide to do the re-arranged race next week.

P and me swapped bottles and I ran back home with a wee blog story fermenting nicely in my head. The wine, a nice rioja, was lovely! Thanks P.

ice ice baby..

2010-12-12T16:29:00.005Z

These last few weeks have been a bit stop and start, but more stop. Saying that, I'm not too hung up about not running. Its just a hobby and while I'm a big fan of the snow, I'm no fan of the ice.

I graced the abandoned clubhouse with my presence on Thursday night. It was deserted. I was about to turn around and leave the forlorn lonely shed when a couple of others from the group appeared out of the icy murk. We picked out a route and churned out a prompt 40 minute warm up with another 12 minutes of fast stuff before mincing back down the hill as fresh sparkly ice crystals formed below our feet.

Today was a 14 mile beasting on my todd to the Dyke Neuk Pub on a snow free 'B' Class road and then back on an unclassified road (which was a mistake. Quiet? yes. Ice free? No. Tippy-toeing around like Bambi on some stretches). The hedges were completely free of berries, robbed by the starving bird life. There were few cars on the road though and I felt pretty strong throughout the run, getting round in 1:40.

On the way out I came to the conclusion that there's two sorts of drivers. Those that give you plenty of room and those who think it's their duty to keep the car straight and, by doing so, force you into the verge with half a metre to spare because you're on their side of the road. We love them really.

Anyway, I read on someone's blog that its 20 weeks to the London Marathon, so I suppose I'd better conjure up a battle plan even though I'm threatening to run in a morph suit and casually wave for 26 miles to the masses as I pass all those famous people and places. Perhaps I should arrange for some out-riders.

Aunt Aggie's particularly fired up because she thinks she's coming too. I haven't had the bottle to tell her she's got to stay at home to watch the dog. Thinking about her sitting there in front of the fire watching Downton Abbey with the collie at her feet in her matching morph suit is a bit scary. I didn't know they did morph suits for dogs.

Brassicks

2010-12-03T10:31:00.005Z

Another first this morning. I think my last blog was a bit premature announcing 'before the thaw'. Out for 8 miles this morning. Even with gloves on, my fingers were 'cauld'. It wis snell cauld. Perishing. I think my ears were numb as well but as I couldn’t feel them I couldn’t be sure of this. It was -10c. The river surface had partly frozen over and there were ducks, seagulls and black geese wrestling each other for the broken water. The geese gave up soon after I passed them and they took off in a slow, laboured flight, presumably going south. I thought it might be warmer where they had come from. They may have come to that conclusion themselves.

The broken snow on the pavements had frozen hard and was badly rutted, so I stuck to the road once away from the path along the river. As I ran it was so cold, I could almost blow smoke rings with my breath and stopped for 10 minutes by a snow drift to carve an attractive ice sculpture. When the snow first fell last week, everyone was diligently clearing the snow each morning from driveways and pavements. But now after a week and plunged into a Baltic state, like the temperature, standards have plummeted and folk are just happy to be able to get out the front door, the back door abandoned days ago. Pity the local fell races have been cancelled. It would have been a laugh. Remember to feed the birds!

Before the Thaw

2010-11-29T18:20:00.009Z

Day off. Fought my way around another 10 miles this time heading off eastwards for 8 miles through Bothal woods and with 2 road miles added for good measure. It was slow going, deep slush in places. Got caught out around the 5 mile mark in a mini-blizzard when the wind picked up. Nipped back down into the woods. The downfall only lasted for 10 minutes. We are loving the weather; yes?

With absolutely no one in sight I was happy to be pushing through the ankle deep snow to Marillion (Marbles) and Snow Patrol but it was 'War of the Worlds' soundtrack that proved to be bang-on, haunting, the production and Richard Burton's narration as crisp as the new snow as I made my way through the eerily abandoned and transformed alien countryside...'

the chances of anyone running in this are a million to one they said..'

The local hardware shop sold 250 pairs of wellies at the weekend. Thats a result. The only one this weekend around here.

Tales from an igloo

2010-11-28T16:22:00.005Z

I'm a sucker for the snow and with only another inch added last night I grabbed the thawing fell shoes off the radiator, dug out the camera-phone and stole out into the early morning's snow scape.

No dog today. I did the same run I did yesterday with an extra 2 mile loop thrown in toward the end. It only took me around 1:40 for 12 miles mostly down to taking fewer snaps than any speed. I bumped into a couple of NFR guys and stopped for a chat and, later, another runner who spent the mile we ran together extolling the virtues of compression tights.

In the woods the trees were filled with huge blobs of cotton wool and the path was barely discernible but I avoided the deeper stuff and made good progress, scrunching through the snow and stumbling only once going up a cambered bank. By the time I came out of the woods I expected to be running out of a wardrobe. I always fancied Canada but never been there and I wonder if this is what Calgary's like for 5 months of the year.

There was virtually no traffic on the road and I guess I could have gone on for another hour or so. Its been a bit milder here this afternoon, but we'll see what tonight brings. I'll probably go for another long one tomorrow. It's a good workout for the quads.

Welcome to Northumberland 2010

2010-11-27T13:06:00.007Z

After a week of no running whatsoever, my cabin fever spilled over as I drew the curtains back this morning to reveal another huge dump of snow.

It was all too much and I took off with the dog for a 10 mile 2 hour run through the woods and across the bridleways stopping for a few photos every so often. I think we've got about a foot or so of snow now. The weight of snow had brought down a few boughs in the woods and there was a lot of ducking and diving as I dodged the burdened branches. Today was all snow and I felt like an extra from Ice Station Zebra or Fargo. My feet stayed dry in the Salomon's with a plastic bag sandwiched between 2 pairs of socks and plenty of layers on above and my fingers only started to get cold on the way home.

The A1 was all but deserted and it really was a winter wonderland. The dog's done in and asleep behind the settee already.

Bonjour Mes Pingouins

2010-11-25T07:37:00.005Z

Brrr...La neige est arrivée. Je regrette que je ne sois pas dans un endroit chaud. Je ne running pas aujourd'hui. Suis-je devenir faible? La plume de ma tante Aggie est dans le jardin.

....Ca plane pour moi.

Claybank West Fell Race 2010

2010-11-21T18:49:00.007Z

Prolonged rain yesterday. Heavy showers this morning and the thermometer had forgotten to get up. Two degrees as the sleet splattered the windscreen as I parked up on Claybank for the Claybank West Fell Race.

At 9.15am there wasn't too many folk around, but by 10:15am there was a snaking queue outside the organisers car, his mobile office.

Around 150 had turned up for this 4 mile bogfest. To be truthful, it wasn't so much boggy but just plain slippy as the clay that leads up to the Roof of the North York Moors (which was where we were headed) is thin and peppered by loads of cobbles and boulders that lie in wait to ambush you, should you drop your guard. I had donned my bib-tights, an all in one cycling garment that's great in wet, cold conditions. It was also a double glove day.

After advising the gathered chattering throng that it was wet and to check the risk assessment, Dave Parry set us off and it took me a good 5 minutes to get a rhythm going. I just caught a glimpse of Joe Blackett (Dark Peak) and a clutch of NFR's at the top of the first ascent, but then it was a wet trog through the woods where if you lifted your head for a minute to look around, the boulders would have taken your ankles from you.

This time, I made sure I stayed with the big group of 10 which had loosely formed as we headed out west for 2 miles along the top of Broughton Bank. Because of the conditions there were loads of runners with their cagoules and hats on, so identification of who was around you wasn't possible. I knew I was adrift and off the pace from early on though and the group began to inevitably split. This time at least I was somewhere in the middle as it fragmented. We soon turned and headed up the 2 ascents and past Wainstones with its pre-historic carvings, but there was no time to do the time-team-thing. There were a few families out walking and a couple of bored wet lads kindly gave us our positions as we passed them. I was 23rd. Hanging out of the top 20, I tried to up the pace along the paved ridge that's part of the Cleveland Way. With the climbing work out of the way I passed 2 runners (one from Thirsk in road shoes) and, before long, I found myself careering down the soft grey scree slope and onto the tussocky grass before been passed by someone who reminded me of me 2 years ago when I was happy to throw myself down the slopes. It was then back into the woods for the finish at around 36 minutes.

Afterwards, I took a few snaps and then managed to lose my car key, which was careless but par for the course. Those kind folk from the Quakers Club found it for me.

Good bash. This sort of day out makes you feel alive. Will Horsley (NFR) won it from Dan Middlemiss (Loftus) and Jim Mann (DFR) 3rd. Shelley Gordon (New Marske) narrowly beat Charlotte Edge (jnr) from Scarborough and Angharad Owen of Loftus 3rd. Photos already up at Dave Aspins Site (See Link). Results to follow on the Esk Valley site.

Get-a-Grip...

2010-11-20T19:31:00.004Z

Its been a week of mid-range runs mostly on the road and today I managed a short 3 miler through the woods in the rain and mud. The soles of my fell shoes are getting a bit short of grip and its was like tackling the safari rally with slicks on. They're perched on the radiator getting dry for tomorrow.

The New Balance road shoes have been replaced by a pair of Pegasus's and its taken a few days to adjust to the change. Other than a couple of fell runs though I've no road events planned so no stress. Given the last few months, I'd say I was fully ten-kayed up. Just got to stay in one piece over the next couple of months and start getting back into the gym. I got a free entry to the Edinburgh Half next year, which is nice and I'd like to say it was because I was so fast and impressive, but the club had been given a couple, so it was great to be sent one. Just finished Murakami's book on running. From the cover I was expecting quite a different book altogether and must admit to being not unhappy to move on to some good old historical fiction.

Newcastle Town Moor Memorial 10k 2010

2010-11-14T19:45:00.006Z

There was a big field today for the Town Moor Memorial 10k.
After a minutes silence the 500 or so athletes and competitors set off in dry, cool weather. The route takes you twice around the Town Moor in Newcastle and there's one long stretch which is very exposed. Today, thankfully, the wind was very light and I felt good for a change during the first lap. Its a flat course and the shouts of support help.

I was using today as a speed session (honest!) before next weeks assault on the Claybank Fell Race, one of my favourite fell runs. I didn't see anyone around me that I knew and I was running without my usual technological baggage of ipods, phone or teas-made. Today I just put my head down and, knowing the route pretty well, tried to get 100% out of my legs, without going anaerobic.

David Daniels (formerly Wallsend) who ran a similar time to me in this years Edinburgh marathon eased past at 5k. He's been clocking some good times recently and I could only manage to sit on his shoulder for a couple of minutes. One of the club officials shouted that I was in the frame for the team prize , but I found it hard to believe considering I was well down the field. The second lap was just a case of grit and determination. I was on my own from 6k and although I got quite close to the lad in front, he pulled away again in the last kilometre.

Finished in 37:37 and around 40th. For some reason this course although flat enough, just doesn't produce fast times for me, having run it in 37:26 in 2004 and 38:12 in 2008; but it wasn't a bad time either and, as I finished, I told myself I couldn't have run any faster today. These things are worth reminding yourself of, just in case after a day or two you convince yourself there was more in the tank.

I did sneak a team prize, but only because the winner, Johnny Taylor (30:54) didn't have his club vest on. More a case of him losing the £10 voucher rather than me winning it. As I didn't take any snaps on the day, I'll have to leave you with a library picture instead. The Results for the Town Moor Memorial 10k are at http://www.heatonharriers.org.uk/mem10res.php (Heaton Harriers website)

Guisborough Three Tops Fell Race 2010

2010-11-07T19:36:00.008Z

I ran the Three Tops Fell Race once before in 2006 and a quick look at my time indicated that 70 minutes or thereabouts would be a half decent performance.

Driving through Nunthorpe the sky was very busy with swathes of smoky low cloud but also gaps of blue sky. There had just been a heavy shower but it was drying up and as I drove along the Bypass I could see the North York Moors and the triangular crag of Roseberry Topping still covered in low white cloud. There was quite a big field assembling at Guisborough Rugby Club and the race started a little late. I got up into the forest near the front but stumbled and fell in a heap like a drunk on a Saturday night.

If you see a runner go down, it's fell running etiquette to ask if the fallen athlete is 'OK?' as you step over him, and two runners asked after me as they passed and I picked myself up and continued up through the slippy needle covered woodland slope, hands on knees.

There were plenty of orange vested Wetherby runners in the top 10 and as we came out of the wood onto the moors I was around 13th.

A York Acorn runner was just behind and every so often his dark shadow crept up on the ground immediately in front of me. The stone paths were very slippy and at least one Durham runner went down clutching his ankle. I asked after him as I passed, and he assured me he was 'fine'.

The low cloud formed a white mist which would have made for some great photos had I had my (proper) camera. Just before the ascent up to Roseberry, I thought my watch had come off, so I stopped and retraced my steps for 20 or 30 seconds before I realised it was caught up in my bumbag.

Two runners including York Acorn passed by as I fannied and dithered around the thick sedge grass. Roseberry was reached and I took it easy coming down, losing a place to a NYM, but I soon caught and passed him before being passed myself on the next climb by a man with a pointy hat (see picture below).

I tracked him to the next checkpoint, back along the trees and then up the last long drag on wet peaty tracks to the final checkpoint. As the landscape opened up I saw a group of seven about 40 seconds up ahead and it would have been nice to catch them , but today that was only in my dreams. I lost pointy-hat through the trees as the route took us down through the last leg of the Guisborough Woods Fell race, only to see him around 5 seconds in front at the bottom. However, by this time two other guys were haring after me and I had enough energy to horse down the last track full-pelt to land in 75 minutes and around 16th.

Didn't wait around for tea and medals and even though this was quite a bit slower than last time, I felt I had a better run and guess the wet conditions added around 2 or 3 minutes for most folk. I haven't seen the results yet but Sanderson of NFR probably won.

(photos already on Dave Aspins site. Results in few days at Esk Valley site)

Twilight

2010-11-03T18:56:00.005Z

What a quality production the 'Fellrunner' Magazine is. Glossy, well presented and full of results and foties; the Autumn edition came through the letterbox and landed this morning with enough impact for me to mistake it for a tax return. Lost myself in it for an hour at lunchtime. Its all a magazine should be. Flicking through the pages, I noticed that Hawkhill had finished 17th in the British Champs this year (m40 category) and with a bit of further digging, found out I finished 99th in the championships on the basis of the Dollar Hill Run in July. It didn't take me long to figure out that if I do the long and short events next year too, I could reach the dizzy heights of 80th or 70-something.

With that in mind I managed to get out late in the twilight as the sun was setting, for a couple of laps through the woods (I was going to bore you with more photos of leaves and autumn colours, but at 5.30pm, this is what autumn in Britain actually looks like).

As the sun went down, a thick mist rapidly enveloped the trees and on the second lap I couldn't work out whether my eyes were failing or whether I was in a Ridley Scott movie, expecting at any time to be jumped by one of the dark silhouettes that formed as the last of the light expired.

Clagged in mud, I headed home via Lidl's, sporting my fell runner-chic look. This ensures the general public never get too close! Sometimes I get the sympathy look. For the weekends entertainment I was mulling over Lasswade XC or the Three Tops fell race at Stokesley. Think I might do both. God knows, I need the miles, but can I afford the diesel....

Jedburgh 10k

2010-10-31T19:50:00.005Z

It was a beautiful day for the Jedburgh Running Festival. Some roads had been closed to traffic, which is never a bad thing (unless you're a driver) and around 900 border sun seekers lined up together next to the old Abbey for the half marathon and 10k.

Even though I'd missed the online entry closing date, the organiser had given me the OK as long as I turned up early to register and so I chilled in the car for an hour or so after registering and before the race, with a miles warm up at 10.30am. We gathered at the war memorial under the shadow of the Abbey. The man said 'go' at 11am, as the other man with the gun stood looking blankly at the mis-firing pistol, and off we went haring through Jedburgh High Street.

At 1km I was feeling good and was working up from around 30th as the course went off the Main Road (A68) and up and up again through a leafy side road. It was very up and down for the first 4k. I kept Portobello's Jarvie in view and there was also 2 Teviotdales and a Moorfoot between us. It was a bit of a re-run from the Norham 10k.

I was, however, flagging a bit between 5 and 6k and although the return leg was down the A68 past Jedforests Ground and along the river near the edge of Town, I lost sight of the little bunch ahead and worked hard for a 37:32 and eventual 12th place. One of the lads from Teviotdale kept stopping and after 4 or 5 seconds rallied and off he went again but I couldn't find the speed to catch him.

The organisation was very good though and I liked the venue and positive vibe around the race. Might have another go next year, although it has to be said that it would have to go some to beat today's weather. Turner beat Hulme in 34 mins at the front end. Not a PB course but a peachey run on a picture-postcard day.

XC: Life of Grime

2010-10-23T15:29:00.006+01:00

Messing around this morning included downloading Groove Armadas White Light Album. Absolutely Kicking. Just made it in time at lunchtime after the rain had passed to run the North East cross country league. It feels ages since I've done one and the course at Cramlington hasn't got any steep hills in it but it was a mudbath today and the fell shoes didn't fare very well. Couldn't help thinking how spikes would have been that bit better. Started from the slow pack today and floated around the 40th mark after the 2nd of 3 laps.

Anyway, it took around 40 minutes for the 9k course and I pretty much stuck to the task running with karl from Birtley and someone's dad (you certainly get a good idea of who is around you with the vocal support from the sidelines).

Windy, wet and, in the words of Potter, 'slitherin'... Just the way I like my cross country!

Results on the Race-Results site (See link on right hand margin). Better find a riot somewhere so I can get my caked legs in front of the water-cannon!

St. Cuthberts Way

2010-10-21T17:53:00.007+01:00

Arriving for a job this morning near Belford in the heart of Nothumberland, I caught a glimpse of the snowy peak of the Cheviot, the first snow I've seen this season.

Finishing work mid-afternoon and having skipped more than a few days running, I thought it would be nice to catch a glimpse of the local countryside. Its been a good while since I was around these parts. I parked up near a rough track and headed north armed with my fell shoes and mp3.

There was a brisk north east wind blowing and a flock of geese were struggling near the top of the crags. I jogged along the manicured grass beneath the Scots pine and Douglas Fir under the shadow of Saint Cuthberts Cave to the east and the Cheviots well to the west. It was said the monks spent the night here in the 11th Century while they carried the body of the old bishop of Lindisfarne to Durham away from the marauding clutches of sea raiders. There was an eerie atmospheric feel to the place but I wasn't alone. The geese had got back in the saddle and were moving across the sky in numbers.

I carried on accompanied by the melancholy harmonies of Blackfield, past the sleepy hollow of Howburn and across some gravel tracks through Kyloe Wood, past an old quarry and into a dense thicket of trees. At 5 miles I turned and headed back the way I came. I clocked it at 1.24 for 10 miles (with numerous stops for photies). There was quite a wind chill this afternoon, but its beautiful at this time of year and hardly anyone around. A crusty sunflower brown rustic roll and cold, fresh pint of milk from the local Co-op store never tasted so good.

Distorted

2010-10-17T12:33:00.006+01:00

Out yesterday for 25 miles or so a la velo and then a steady 7 miles in the late afternoon through the woods kicking up the leaves, but felt tired and sniffly last night so plans to go and take some snaps at the Kielder marathon this morning were abandoned.

It was frosty this morning and with no one down the clubhouse at 9, I nipped back home, grabbed the bike and took off for 2 hours through the leafy Northumberland countryside to the Gibbet and back. Never seen so many bikies out. Being perched on a saddle for 30 miles can, at times, get a bit dull, so always on the lookout for some good shots and camera angles.

The cyclo-cross bike is taking shape and I might finish the cabling and taping up the handlebars this afternoon. I should also get a short run in before the thermometer falls later. But there's an empty skip outside waiting to be filled so I guess that means a few hours in the garage raking through the clutter.

Red Eggs Spell Danger

2010-10-15T13:43:00.007+01:00

Early finish Friday. I'm about to go out for a 10 miler and need to know there's some grub to come back to.

The kitchen is not my strong point although I am an old hand at seeking out the stashed biscuits and choc. But after failing to sniff out any 'energy' food, I began to shake and dribble uncontrollably. Pavlovs Dogs saw this and left the room, muttering.

There was nothing else for it and before I knew it, I was up to my oxters in flour, sugar and eggs. There was some sort of ceremonial method set out within the recipe book involving needing, folding and whisking, but these were treated with contempt, being jettisoned as I cranked up the electric mixer to warp factor 7. The mixer ground to a groaning halt when I poured in a good bowlful of sultanas, raisins and almond flakes.

I poured the mix into a cake tin before remembering I'd forgot to add the butter, so out it came again and I mixed in a slab of Lurpak with a metal fork. Just the job.

Auntie Aggie fancies herself as a dab hand in the baking stakes. She'd been admiring her new dentures in the gazebo but caught sight of my reflection in the mirror in a haze of flour, sensed cake making activity and couldn't help herself. Sauntering into the kitchen in her pinny, she watched for a minute, then wandered past the bench with a slow air of menace like an invigilator during exam time. I was busy licking the cake mix off the fork and my fingers. I knew she was there, I could hear the slipper-shuffle and detected the pungent funk of moths balls, last Christmas's eau de toliette and peppermint creams. She coolly whispered the word 'buffoon' in my ear as she drifted past and out the room.

The cakes are in and whatever size and shape they come out of the oven they'll keep me going over the next few days.

Meanwhile I thought this picture of the eggs that were spared a death worse than cake (Dundee Cake, that is) look like some baldy martians setting off for a roller coaster ride in Blackpool.

Berwick is Bracing

2010-10-11T12:06:00.006+01:00

What with one thing and another over the last few weeks, the 'me' time for the old sporting hobbies has had to take a back seat, so I was happy to get out for 20 miles on Saturday morning on the new bike and shoehorned in a full-on 45 minute sesh through the woods later in the day.

On the Sunday I nipped up to Berwick upon Tweed to see what was occurring at the Berwick Trail 10k, a new cancer charity run in memory of one of the Berwick Harriers.

It was a grey day and a cool very fresh breeze was coming off the sea as we tried to keep warm at Spital Point. I saw a few familiar faces warming up and there were any number of folk with dogs who presumably were going to walk it. A small gang of us started at 11a.m and we careered along the promenade with a side wind before climbing out of the bay up a steep gravel path, under a railway bridge and across some rolling fields making our way to Scremerston. I was sitting around 12th I think and there was initially a little group 10-15 seconds ahead but this soon split after the bridge leaving a string of lone runners to combat the wind as we headed along the road then down Cow Road and across more fields at the 4 mile mark.

I targeted a couple of guys well in front who seemed to be dropping off the pace and caught both to eventually get me up to 9th (again) in 39:11, but still perhaps a minute down at the end of what I know I can do.

We all got a medal and after a quick natter with a few buds it was off back down the road. Not a bad workout and happy to support a good cause. Results on the Berwick Harriers Website.

Chevin

2010-10-04T22:25:00.008+01:00

It was a cracking day once the mist lifted and finding myself down in deepest Yorkshire on the way home after finishing a job, I parked up near Otley and had a most agreeable 3 mile plod in Chevin Woods, or Danesfield Woods, or Poolscar Woods...somewhere around there anyway and it was great to feel the heat trying to warm up the ground where the rays of sun broke through the canopy between the sycamores and chestnuts.

On the way up the hill past the red and green sandstone plinths that look down on the town , I passed one bloke who said 'nice day for it'...I don't know what 'it' was, but I took him at his word.

On the way back, a different bloke said 'ello' and then added 'getting some oxygen?' although it could have been 'get some oxygen'. Either way, next week when I have to go back down I'll take my fell shoes (and aqualung).

Last week it was a wander from Shipley along the canal to just past Bingley and back. I also like the look of Almscliffe Crag, the one you can see in the distance in one of these 'ere photos, so I might keep that for 'afters' in a fortnight.

Meanwhile tonight's burnt offering was 10 miles round the lanes with the usual suspects. Its getting so dark now, so we'll soon be limited to the streets. Might stretch my legs at the weekend at Manor Water. After the 2008 experience, I'll be doing well to get there on time. Better leave early.

Vicar of Ridley

2010-10-02T09:49:00.005+01:00

Following July's burst of activity on the cycling front, August and September have been meagre in road miles. It would have helped of course if I hadn't stripped down my road bike and butchered the stand-by frame. But the real work can now start in earnest as long as Earnest doesn't mind. I have dragged myself into the 21st century and rummaged around the piggy bank to bag a 2009 Crossbow frame. Bargain. The nice chap at the bike shop even put a chain set on and suggested he might see me at the cyclocross events this winter. Yes, maybe, but only if he's as cringe-worthily slow as me.

Its been an oil and grease caked morning with the aromatic smell of thick glupy hydrocarbon and WD40 lubricants pervading the lounge where I go about my new trade of bikie quietly and efficiently. There's only a few spots of oil on the carpet. Still, early days. I haven't got half the tools I need and some of the new fangled fittings are headscratchingly devious for an old skool lad like me.

I am the new vicar of Ridley; Ridley in the Alien, the lead singer in the Boo Ridleys and Vin D. in the Chronicles of Ridley. With needing a few new parts, its dawning on me just how cheap a sport running is. I think I'll end up blowing 1 or 2 years worth of trainer money on various pieces of shiny aluminium, only to take them into soft, mud splattered bogs and fields.

Meanwhile, as I recall passing a couple of the lads in the car as they tore through the streets yesterday in the pouring rain, I see the gnarled wraith of guilt leaning against the door, dangling the Salomons by their laces and pointing with her scrawy finger toward the front door. Best get out for some miles.