Verticale Kilometre Lagunc

Since I started running in the hills, its long been an aim to compete in a race on the continent. An adventure. With my advancing years coupled with all the aches and pains this past 12 months, I've almost left it too late, but I eventually got there this weekend with a race in the Southern Alps. That said it was hardly a race, in so far as it involved a stylish start in front of the camera followed by an hours sweaty slog up a huge mountain through the Alpine forest, a forced march up a thousand rock steps culminating in a glorious 'almost-jog' for the cameras on top of the hill, a thousand metres up from the start.

The Kilometre Verticale Lagunc this year was a time trial. With 250 competitors, it formed half of the weekends offering for runners in Chiavenna, an attractive town up past Lake Como in Lombardy.  I had entered both the vertical kilometre and the 25k trail race, the latter on the Sunday, along with Linds and Speedy Joe. Mrs Mac had also stepped up gamely for the Kilometre challenge. 

We had been in intense training for at least a week, with Mrs Mac making regular appearances at the gym on the stepping machine. I had spent time going up the stairs at home and trying to remember what I'd come up for. I'd also found the cross trainer and knocked out an unconvincing 10 miler around the lanes during the week. I told myself that I would have enough energy for the 25k.  

After a short flight we arrived on Thursday at our hotel and had a poke about the town. Friday came and went, the sun was up and I was beginning to get a handle on the local lingo.   

Fueled by honey and croissants we rocked up for Saturdays event. The village was buzzing with runners from the local clubs and a smattering of running tourists. The prize money for both events was generous and stretched to 10^th place, with local produce provided for 11^th to 15^th, but despite the attraction of packets of pasta, biscuits and jars of jam, for me, it was all about just getting up the hill in one piece. 

The start list was in chronological order with the women setting off first at 30 second intervals followed by the men. Oldies first. There were three seventy year olds in front of me. Surely I could catch them? 

I was off number 197, so there was scope for 196 runners to come past me. As it was I 'galloped' up the 1000m climb, all steps and roots passing Mrs Mac near the top and, all the while, trying to avoid being run over by faster runners passing or being struck down by the large spiky seed husks the size of small tennis balls that fall from the chestnut trees which cover the lower slopes. Toward the top, the woodland turned to spruce, the airspace got safer and I grovelled my way over the line in 195^th place and 2 minutes inside the hour. Mrs Mac was a valiant 247^th and got an impressive reception finishing as the lantern rouge. 

Waking up the next day, I wasn’t up to 25k, so we waved Linds and Cat off in the race bus under cloudy grey skies. They both had good races, with Speedy picking up 2^nd place and some proper prize money. Linds came in strongly and just missed out on some local produce. 

We dined like the athletes we are on the Sunday night (pizza and wine) and cleared off south to Bergamo on the Monday morning, before getting an early flight back to Blighty on Tuesday, a flight that included being rattled around the turbulent skies for half an hour.    

 

Sorrowful Service Alert

Just back from another wee jolly to Edinburgh. Nice trip up and straight into a 5 mile jog around Holyrood Park, then a wander to the Portrait Gallery and a couple of pubs before things went off the rails on the 'delightful' pseudo-first-class service back home, courtesy of Cross Country trains. It really is a shambles. First world problem I know. Its also deeply unpopular to come across as entitled. But who gives one? If I detailed the farcical performance and sorrowful lack of resources we witnessed you would think it a modern day faulty towers on tracks. How much effort does it take to keep 10 customers on a carriage, daft enough to pay extra, remotely happy?  Seemingly looking at the small print, they only sell you a fancy seat - any more palaver is subject to x,y and z. Even as I went looking for teabags off the 'retail' trolley at the other end, the trolley operator quizzed me on what was happening in the posh-end, then suggested I didn't waste my money in future. 

The saving grace, however, was that I did indeed have a comfy seat and we got back on time. Its a race to the bottom for Brand Britain. Shocking. The City is increasingly expensive and I might have to rethink my patronage of the Auld place.  

On a different subject, I have the 5th cyclo cross of the season this Sunday at Ryton. It was Hetton Country Park last week and after a slow start, I fairly got into my stride. Ryton's an unknown quantity, so wish me well.

The running has been very patchy in the last fortnight. My left knee's still not right, but these days, after a mile mincing through the town, my right knee is equally grumpy and, after a mile or two, I wonder, on each run, just how far I might manage.  Seems 4 miles is about what I'm able to do at a reasonable pace. 

After a month of tuna salad, nuts and soup peppered with moments of lasagne, beer and carb' weakness, the weight has stabilised  but its still at the heavy end of 'acceptable'. No matter, at my age no one gives a hoot apart from the other twenty blokes my age who are also in their own wee bubble of denial. Happy days.    

South Shields CXNE

Another Sunday, another cyclo-cross. It's becoming a bit of a thing is thrashing around a random field for 45 minutes.  This time around it was only 30 minutes south of home at Gypsies Green in South Shields. Its an old open air velodrome with tarmac banked tracks located on the coast. 

Designed for track cyclists, its not been used by them for half a century. However, it didn't stop the organisers shoe-horning in a tortuous course for the North East of England league and tight and contrived it certainly was. Bloomin tricky was what it was, and had it been wet and slippy it would have been carnage, with every type of camber, suicide drops and 180 degrees turns. Inscrutable it was. 

Marg was in attendance with camera and dog which was nice. I got caught up in the tape again this time around losing half a minute as I tried to untangle the bike from the tape on the 4th lap under the scrutiny of a tutting marshall. If there was a crime against the plastic fence posts they use for these courses, I would be an enemy of the state, so many have I taken out as I go wide yet-again in search of an easier life. 

On this course there was also a 20m long sand pit which I must say I took at speed and performed with aplomb. The guy who was ahead of me most of each lap, and in my category, couldn't quite get to grips with the obstacle and I overhauled him as he wandered around in a metaphoric sand-storm, before hammering to the line. Very tough and good fun. And the bikes still clean. Thanks to marg for the photos.

 

Simonside and the Return of CX

Well, while you've been sitting there with a handful of pistachios contemplating the meaning of life or waiting for the iron to heat up, I've been out grafting as the faux comeback picks up pace. 

Last week was the first cyclocross event in the North of England cyclocross league and, true to form, I was nearly, but not quite, last. The ground was bone dry as the cream of the over 50's, 60's and 70's played on their bikes around a course set out across the Middlesbrough Sports Village. I only fell over once. 

A week later it was down to Whitby for the second round. Buoyed up by 30 bike miles during the week, I rallied well when I saw two of the guys that beat me at Middlesbrough and I can report some sparks of progress amongst another generally benthic (bottom dwelling) performance. I think I generated another 5 watts this week and its all good, a sport which I describe as a 'daft carry-on', where women half your age ride past you like you're doing something similar, but in slow motion and you find yourself every lap teetering precariously as you try to keep forward momentum at the top of the wee sharp rises they keep on adding to courses. The saving grace at this time of the year are the dry conditions and how clean the bike is at the end. A surprisingly good aerobic work out over 45 minutes, its a good choice of cross training. The downside is I need two new tyres and they retail at fifty notes each. Spicy. The bike which I bought 4 or 5 years ago second hand is holding up well. You need a mortgage for a new one.

Elsewhere, the good news continues with a three pound weight loss this last fortnight after living off tuna and beetroot salad and very little ale during the week. The biscuit tin thinks I'm giving it the cold shoulder...and I am.  I felt heavy and unfit, but managed to get through the Simonside Fell Race near Rothbury on Saturday; 7 miles of forest track, dry stream beds, grey windy gritstone crags and farmers fields. The good fight continues, but at least the previously injured knee didn't complain too much and this is, indeed, encouraging.  Still much weight loss to take place, but must stick to my guns. The sheer boredom of dieting doesn't enrich life, but having got my name down for an Italian Mountain race later this year, I need to apply myself.  

Just finished 'Cider with Rosie' by Laurie Lee, a rather meandering novel of rustic English life, 'April in Spain' by John Banville, which was fine, and now on with Mick Herrons 'The Secret Hours'.     

Snowdon Race (Ras Yr Wyddfa) 2026

It was another long trip to North Wales for Speedy Joe's Snowdon appearance in a Scotland vest.  I was doing Dad's taxi and took the Nikon for some photos. 

I have just started to get back out on the road after my knee rehabilitation which has taken forever.  

It was the 49th running of this 10 mile Welsh classic and the Italians were back with their crack squad. The English team also had 4 very handy women runners who were joined by the Northern Irish, Irish and of course the hosts the Welsh, together with 300 other club runners and locals.

With a two o clock start, we woke to an early mist sitting over the lake in Llanberis. There was an inversion above which made everything a little grey in the valley. 

I managed two miles around the town and a slow coffee and we idled the morning away before getting out of the cottage and making our way up the hill. I speed-walked to the halfway mark, just before the bothy. 

There were the usual hoards of walkers around and for some, the walk to the top really is a major effort. I was more worried about how I was going to juggle taking photos and handing the youngsters water on the ascent and descent.  The sun began to break through around the hill, but I took most of the photos with a grey background which I think gave a spartan and rather bleak atmosphere.  As usual some very good shots, several moderate and a handful of duff images which will never see the light of day.

Once my water duties were no longer required I began to make my way down, snapping as I walked. 

All together not a bad weekend and the drive back and traffic on the Sunday was forgiving and we were pretty pleased to arrive home before four.    

Results at  https://tdleventservices.co.uk/

Photos at  https://photos.app.goo.gl/TUSpy28okM5rJnNs6

Earlston Black Hill Race 26

We've driven up and down the A68 plenty of times in the past, as you do. 

Recently, Earlston located in the Scottish Borders has been known for its cheap petrol (compared to some others who relentlessly fleece Joe public). As you look across east from the road, there is a cracking looking hill south of the town and we've commented that it would be great to run up. So it was last night that we took a trip to Earlston, sampled its fish suppers, toilets and local hill race (but not in that order!). Its got 3 pubs. Who knew?

Around sixty troopers lined up for the 5 miler including Speedy. I'm still crocked at the moment and quite resemble a fat lad.  I had the camera and took myself the 3k up along the grassy track to the start of the steep and short climb. Perched on the side I got some nice snaps and then caught some coming back down. I jogged a bit and this morning I am delighted to say that I'm no worse for the experience. Speedy was about 7th when I saw her and seemed to be enjoying the workout. I had a sweat on coming back and drove back down south in my damp t shirt. Happy days. 

On the book front, I raced through 'Stoner', an excellent read for a change and not anything to do with a druggie! I have subsequently dived into another classic, Ballards 'Empire of the Sun'' which is turning out to be another belter.  

Earlston Black Hill Race - Photos at link:   https://photos.app.goo.gl/euSAPRqHKPycjdDr6

Twist & Shake

Well, if you can't run, sing!  No one ever said that, but at least the breezy physio whom I saw yesterday gave me a few other options.  The swelling over my left knee which I twisted at Goatfell has taken an age to reduce. The first tentative short jogs I attempted 2 weeks ago failed within a mile. 

Last weeks easy biking around Feldy was welcome exercise, but Sunday saw a partial relapse when I pushed things a little more.  

 You can do these exercises, you can go to the gym, you can't run, not yet... 

You can swim, you can do the exercise bike, but maybe leave the real thing out for a bit...

Bin any ideas about running at Blencathra this weekend with all your other old cronies... 

And you probably won't manage the Kirkpatricks race early July... 

Apart from that, you're good to go....to the larder.  Its true I cleaned the bin on Monday. Does that count?.

More time to try and finesse my camera skills (teehee).  A trip to Eildon on Saturday was rewarded with a few great shots, several good ones and several blurry images that have become my trademark. Will try a different camera over the next week or so.

Link to photos at 

https://photos.app.goo.gl/WMSD48dpHxUroxEYA