Out of the Pits

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

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

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

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

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)

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

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.