Brough Law

(foties by Jill Bennett)

Als diary entry: Short entry - the Ides of March. 
This week has had little to commend itself. But today I found myself making the trip to the Brough Law Fell Race up at Ingram Valley not far away from Wooler with Missus Mac. I always thought Wooler should really be bigger in the hill running world than it is. Plenty of potential and great running around there.

Chef Linds', who had run the xc the day before, agreed to accompany Missus Mac round the 5 mile AS (short, steep) course.  I reckon there were around 100 in attendance and while the sun was out, the wind was definitely getting up. I ran to the car to add a Helly Hansen to my T-shirt. The race starts with a heart strangling ascent before the course plateau’s out . There is a tough long grassy climb at the far end before you turn and come back on yourself. It’s a lasso sort of route. Probably around 1000ft of climbing. I paid my £5 and was happy not to be paying the £4 parking charge levied on yesterdays North East cross country event in Sunderland.  
After a couple of notices from the organiser JB, we kicked off and I walked-ran-walked up the hill. I began to pick up a few places once we were at the top and continued picking off a couple of runners before the far end. I tracked Tim McCall  (Norham) up some climb into the gale force wind. I could see Keith Murray (Teviotdale) and Vaughan Hemy (N Shields) ahead. 
I drove on hard at the turn as we began a fast descent toward a burn. Hammering down the valley side to try and make some ground, I lost my footing on the wet grass and went for a skite along the wet surface. No injury, only mild embarrassment.  I had only just recovered crossing the burn and then stile, when I heard Tim (now behind) yell as he was blown onto the barbed wire. I caught a North Shields runner at the top of the steep climb with Robyn Bennett and the three of us ploughed back along the gently rising ridge fighting with the ridiculous crosswind. I imagine we might have been dealing with some serious wind chill if we had slowed down or the event had been longer. By this time Hemy and Murray were out of sight, but I wasn’t making any ground on them anyway, so next time perhaps. 
I came down the last descent at high speed almost making up the 100 yards that the runner in front of me had, but he pipped me at the post. Probably around 48 minutes and placed upper to mid table, I imagine. I dumped my bum bag at the car and re-ascended to see the Missus and Linds come back, but somehow they eluded me by taking the long way round a crag and were finished by the time I got back down with the Sweeper. A hard event in the wind, but very happy to have had another competitive run. It was JB's birthday and we were all given a generous slice of cake to celebrate. An enjoyable morning out.  

The Cupar 5 (2020)

I ran the Cupar 5 yesterday. Didn’t stop once. I weighed myself last week and it seems the weight loss has stuttered somewhat. However, at least the scales didn’t announce ‘no coach parties, please’ when I stood on them. If I manage a steady 10 today, it’ll be another 50 mile week. I have had a long uninterrupted spell of continuous running in the last 6 weeks. Its therefore frustrating that this virus business is threatening my salazaresque programme, the virus which goes under two names like a dark cloaked Dickensian figure with bent head, fag in mitted hand, smoking furtively around every corner. 

As I drove to Cupar I was disgusted at the amount of litter strewn along the A1. A national disgrace. I also fought to remind myself where the start was. Perhaps this was not surprising, considering I last ran Cupar perhaps 8 or 9 year ago. I ran it for the first time after the course had been re-measured and it was lengthened by 180 yards (so I read in an earlier blog). 
Arriving in good time there were various random runners jogging up and down the high street. I wandered to the YMCA on Bonnygate and collected my number. I used the facilities and ensured I washed my hands. However, opening lavatory doors afterwards is always a challenge. I sauntered back to the car and pinned on my number and went for a warm up to find the start-line.

There was a full field of 250 for this event. It is also apparently a counter in the Hawks annual handicap league thing.  With 10 minutes to go, I binned my trackies and top in the hedge and slipped the car key into my gloved hand. I wear kids knitted gloves when I run. They fit neatly and are cheap as chips to replace. I don't like wearing a matching pair, either. 
As I stood watching the field gather, a large group of Hawks spotted me and they all trooped up to shake my hand in welcome. Had the word about elbow tapping or the foot focused greeting not reached Tayside?  'What a cheery bunch' I mused as I switched gloves from left to right and stepped back another few paces.
A short announcement was made by the Fife A.C. organisers, but I couldn’t hear them, what with wearing my welders mask and ear muffs.  We were off soon afterwards and I spent the first mile trying to get my heart rate up to the requisite 155rpm. Dragging that oxygen bottle around was a bitch tho' and I soon ditched it.  I ran simply, inhaling the spent vapours of the 60 guys and gals ahead.   
I found myself in 'no mans' land after a mile, running into a brisk headwind. No good at all, so I put in a burst and tucked in behind a group with the 3^rd placed woman in. Half of them seemed to be from the PH running club. As the road stretched out, the rest of their club appeared ahead in a long string of black and red vests. A Kinross runner in green vest and headband came past and I tagged in with him, trying to find shelter. I glanced at my watch after 2 miles. I was doing 6:30’s. I told myself I only had another half mile to do before I turned and had the wind at my back. Kinross man pulled away just before the turn as a Hawk came by me and gave me some encouragement. ‘Come on you baldy old slapper’ he said’.   
I caught what looked like a Cambuslang runner near the turn. His gait was a little awkward, but it seemed to be working for him. We jockeyed hard for whatever position we were in and with 400m to go, the string snapped and I let him go. The last mile was around 6:10 pace, but that was fine given that we had a downhill and tailwind. Crossing the line I think it was about 32m:14s, (63rd) nicely under the 32:30 that I had previously planned as my target time. 
I warmed down jogging back up the course watching the rest of the field come home and then toggled back to the car. A quick cuppa in the hall afterwards (but drunk outside) and then a prompt drive home was the order of the day. The Fife Whisky festival was on in the town, but there was no chance of me making an appearance there. After all, I could probably have my own festival at home, given the various bottles salted around the kitchen. But a minute on the lips and all that…..not much whisky drinking going around these 'ere parts at the mo. 

Alnwick Cross Country 2020

After a solid weeks training I deigned to make an appearance at the nearby Alnwick Cross Country. I've been nursing my weight loss over the weeks with some modest success. Most of this is to do with eating prawn cocktail salads and cold smoked mackeral in place of the usual main meals of pie, pasta, chips and tatties. It's evident, however, that the war against snacking and beer is something more demanding. Snacking is well dug in on the high ground. It will probably require guerrilla tactics.
The cross country programme this season has been decimated by the wet weather. This disturbance in the XC Force has been due more to problems with car parking rather than the courses themselves. After all, there's nothing better than spending 45 minutes running through clagg and losing your shoes in the yielding bowels of the earth.
The forecast was windy but dry, and although there were one or two passing squalls, it was almost Springlike. Elsewhere, speedy joe was running (and winning) the Cambuslang 10k, but us lesser mortals had to make do with lacing up our 'hardly clean' spikes and warming up as best we could. I had to make a late dash to the chemist for some Compeed to protect my heels from my 'not-broken-in-yet' shoes. Other than that there were no dramas and the dark destroyer and chef linds finished top ten in the women's race with Mrs Mac some way behind. She made the point that she still beat 70.  I spent much of the time during the women's race entertaining Master T as he toddled around. We had a right good go at trying to find a mole in the molehills that were dotted around the field and between the caravan of tents.
I like this event. The course had been tinkered with from earlier years and its definitely an improvement. They have retained the run through the woods which is right up my street with a sizeable descent immediately afterwards. If you know how to descend you can easily make up a couple of places over those more timid types or folk that haven't got their spikes on and are a little more wary. I was off in the slow pack and with a backdrop of Alnwick Castle we clattered off down the field and up toward the wood. I had to stop for a few seconds on the first lap to re-tie my lace on my right shoe. I was 54th at the end of the first lap and moved up to 51st on the second. However, as its a handicap, there was a boatload of folk from the medium and fast pack who came through in a rapid and unseemly manner on the 3rd lap (during which my other lace worked loose). However, there was little chance of my shoe coming off and I just put up with it whipping my ankle as I came through the woods for the last time. I finished 68th (350 in the field) at the end and gulping in the air I had a repeated dose of dry wretching which in my book is a sign that you've over done it. Excellent. Confirmation of a good, committed run if one was required. 3rd counter for the club. I felt much better than I had at the Scottish Masters. My spikes arrived back later in the day and had been cleaned by Linds to an inch of their life. Finding your daughters doing stuff like that is a slippery slope. Next she'll be bringing me my slippers and cocoa and a little later booking me on a flight to Switzerland.
Anyway, next up Cupar. Best clean your own shoes.

Royal Signals: I've gotta get out of here...

Perusing the shelves in the mens department of M&S I happened upon some bottles of aftershave. Being the freeloader that I am, I removed the top of the sample bottle with casual nonchalance (is there any other type) and sprayed some on my wrist and proceeded to wipe it across my chin. I inhaled deeply all the heady perfume. I walked off in a fragrant cloud of volatiles. When the effect wore off and I came to, I realised that my old reliable bottle at home had lost all its pazzazz. I checked this when I returned home and having had my suspicions confirmed, I found myself back in said store buying the overpriced fragrance and binning my 14 month old half bottle of whatever it was called....something like Caddisfly....or Spinmonkey or something. Lee Mack does a great sketch about perfume adverts. Anyway, where is all this going?
It was the Royal Signals Relays on Saturday. Clubs only. 4 men to a m50 team. Probably the biggest event for North East clubs other than perhaps the Elswick Relays at Easter. It was wet. It was windy. I had shaved 'specially first thing to ensure my chin was as dynamic as possible, and not forgetting to 'splash it all over'. I was in the team and on the third leg. It's a two lap affair around a lake in a park. Just over a mile per lap. I was happy to be running and decided on the gloves and arm warmers, but no tights, just shorts below. I have some new trainers. They are a metrosexual pale blue. I was quite keen to get them mucky and had a lap or two warm up playing in the puddles.
Anyway, after the first lap (leg 1) of the race we were in 7th place and there was a one minute gap from our first leg runner to 3rd place and the dizzy heights of a podium place. After 2 laps the gap had widened. Paul W went off on the second leg and pulled one minute back on the runner from Crook AC who were 6th and within reach. I readied myself at the start knowing we were not in the medals, but that I needed to do something decent. As Paul finished, I set off into the headwind. It took ages for me to get into any sort of pace and my heart rate and breathing were all over the shop. I passed the lad from Crook at the end of the first lap, but regretted it when I realised he could spend the next lap tucked in behind me. Thankfully that didn't happen, and during the second lap I passed Mrs Mac who was in the womens vet team. With my initial hard effort out, I found myself dying on the way back and tried to look strong as I came in to hand over to the 4th runner Neil. I knew that I hadn't run very well, however. Catching my breath I did a couple more laps in reverse to support Neil before heading back to the tent. We finished 6th. My time was 14:09, almost a minute down on previous times. However, everyone else's times were also down, so no big deal. And as I got changed and wiped the slaver off my neck, I knew that even if I wasn't the fastest, at least I smelled the part. You won't , however, find me facing down a buffalo and burying bangles and jewellery in the desert with my shovel. In the words of Derek Zoolander, I am slow but happy to know that I'm still ridiculously, ridiculously good looking.  

Scottish Master XC Championships 2020

I thought I was well prepared for the Scottish Masters Cross Country competition, but I was deluding myself. The day before I had checked out the train times and cost rather than take the car. The Trainline website now shows the cheapest price. It was a fifty quid return to Glasgow and the venue at the McMaster Sports Centre in Johnstone was eminently walk-able from the rail station. The forecast wasn't the best with Storm Ciara sweeping in late afternoon, but I considered I would be well finished by then.
As it was the biggest race I've entered for a good wee while, I laid out all my stuff on Friday and with new spikes and shorts I was in business. An excellent massage from Sean Maley on Thursday and a rapid four mile 7 min/mile training run later in on the Friday was just the tonic to boost my confidence.
I got to Glasgow in good time and had soup in RBS in Argyle Street. Yes, soup and roll in a bank. crackers. Actually, it was carrot and coriander and the roll was warm. very nice indeedy.
There was a bus replacement from Paisley to Johnstone and a fair bit of muppetry was observed from those dis-organising the seam-filled transport arrangements. No matter, I arrived at Johnstone and began the mile walk to the venue. I was intercepted some way along the route by a car driver who turned out to be Susan Ridley. No slouch; a formidable runner.  She offered a lift and I accepted. Saving my wee legs..just the job. I thanked her and we tried to work out how to get to the hall from the car park.
Entering the hall, I  took my number from the envelope and changed my spikes from 12mm to 6mm. 'Nothing too arduous out there' I mused.  Just before the womens race I warmed up for a mile on the course and came off with a left heal that was cutting up badly with the new shoe. No-one in the Hawks had any Compeed and I kicked myself for not packing some. Utter buffoonery on my part. My only option was to find a chemist and buy some, or risk severing my heel over 5 miles.  I took off through the local housing estate and asked directions. The chemist was in a small group of shops a mile away. It was, of course, shut. I improvised and bought 3 large fabric plasters from the corner shop for the princely sum of 60p each and galloped the mile back to base and slapped them on under my sock. It was back on with the spikes and then up to the start.
Around 200 set off and I had to remind myself that I was one of the older types. There were, however, several m55's around me and I began the 5 mile run toward the back of the pack. I failed to move much more through the field and after 3 miles I was tiring, no longer making any ground on anyone. I looked at my garmin and realised I had failed to start it. More muppetry. I also realised that I hadn't bothered to check whether it was 3 or 4 laps of the tortuous and contrived course. Seeing the string of oldies around me, I wondered what joe public would make of the spectacle.  As we circled the football field (within which a game was taking place) I lost around 6 places as runners came by. It was all a little slow motion; the guys passing me didn't fly by, but crept past almost incrementally and minutes later they were still only 30 metres ahead. On a normal day I could have attempted to bridge the gap, but I was scunnered. Not so much the wheels 'falling off', more of a 'muffled slow puncture'. I was resigned to 4 laps when I was confronted by the finishing line as I came around a bend and shot off at high speed to fend off those that would seek to push me further down the rankings. Scoundrels. 'The results', I hear you ask....'the results?' 117th and 15th m55 and no cigar. I was a counter in the Hawks team, but as we finished 10th, it was all a little academic.
I met Susan at the end and we exchanged experiences. I suspected she did alright and turned out she won her age group. She was returning to the hall for the presentation.
As I walked back to the station I felt sanguine about the performance, but very happy that the impromptu plasters on my heel had worked and that a few beers awaited me in Glasgow. My train was booked for 7:45, so I had plenty of time to experience the delights of the Drum and Monkey and then Maxs Grill on Queen Street where I was joined in the best seats in the house by cat and ant. All in all a most enjoyable day out. 

Lanzarote

Its been a good week with 55 miles clocked up. Most of these were in the sunny climes of Lanzarote; Club La Santa to be more accurate where we had got a good deal. Speedy Joe, Ant and the dark destroyer joined us. Five in an apartment with thin walls. An exercise in discretion.
A 4 hour flight to and from the resort for those with sporting inclinations was the only down side. I'm not a good flyer. Halfway through the holiday we discovered the trail north which took us off the familiar black sand and gravel onto burnished tan sands that extended  6 miles to the north to Caleta de Famara, all of it runnable.
We ate pasta or risotto on most nights. We were tucked up by 9:30pm. This had the distinct disadvantage of being rudely awoken by the shouting hoo-haas that echoed around the corridors of the hard surfaced complex. No matter, the sun was up every day and we did a bit of tennis and a bit of running most days with some yoga and aerial relaxation thrown in for good measure. We even got a morning out mountain biking. All of it was included in the facilities and they were very good. I booked myself in for a deep tissue massage with 'fingers' and he had me biting the towel as I peered down to the feet if the table through the peekaboo hole. Excruciating. I hope it was worth it and my performance next Saturday at Johnstone will be worth the pain.
We returned on Thursday to Blighty. The plane had two attempts at landing in the 50 mile an hour gusts and I can tell you I sat bolt upright trying to be brave, but mostly failing even as my bum got squeakier and squeakier and my palms damper and damper. There was a burst of applause when we landed, but were then subjected to 2 hours on the aircraft marooned on the tarmac in a wind too strong to allow the doors to be opened.
I've been doing a 7 mile route through the woods during the last few days. It used to be a sleepy wood strewn leafy path, but over the last 10 years it has become more and more frequently used and the romance of padding through an obscure trail has been partly lost.  Everything being well this week, I'm looking forward to wearing my new spikes and pulling on the Hawks vest for the first time in a long time.
I made very good progress through Gorky Park over the week and its been the best book I've read for some time. 550 pages for £2.50 from the charity shop. Now that's good value.

Me and Renko

I received another bound printed volume of my past blogs for crimbo from Missus Mac (now known as nana mac). I think this is the 4th or 5th volume I have received as a present. One evening I re-read a couple of these at random. Compelling stuff, as you can imagine! As I read, however, I didn't fully realise how every other entry refers to some sort of injury or niggle and it dawned on me how over the years my body has begun to fail to recover and my running schedule has been dictated by my health.  Indeed, the karate has been sidelined for more than a year now as a result.

I have been suffering from a lateral ligament injury that seems to originate somewhere in my left hamstring. This developed after a misguided attempt to run 20 miles from the metro-centre to my house. It was a steady run, no speed involved, but the wheels came off at Stannington after 16 miles and I hobbled home. Just goes to show that you cant do more than 10 miles on just an empire biscuit and a coffee from Greggs.

At the weekend I attended the Birtley xc relays in the capacity of chief babysitter. There were two vets teams entered. I caught up with a few of the guys and after chatting I realised that they were all crocked in some fashion or out of sorts as a result of some ailment. The penny then fully dropped that as a over 50's runner, injury is routine. Its your training partner. Sits at the end of your bed as you slumber. Gazes at the photos in the frames on the bedside table in the dim light cast by a sleepy moon.

I watched the old boys run around and thought I could do just as well. However, 'probably not' on reflection. This is a long winded way of saying that I subsequently decided to start running through my ligament grumble rather than nursing it. I haven't been doing any distance, but have succeeded in keeping off some of the blubber and I have returned comfortably into the mid 7:30's/mile for short runs. This was confirmed a fortnight ago when me and nana mac found ourselves in Perth on a wet Saturday morning after a very enjoyable and boozy soiree at the Bothy the night before.
We trogged the mile from the hotel to North Inch Park in the rain. Eventually around 250 or so were marshalled to the start of the Weekly Park Run. I set off at a decent pace and was enjoying the cool ionised air, open vista and watching the squirrels shelter from the rain under the leafy sycamores. There were around 7 or 8 ahead. Halfway through I fancied passing the lad I was tracking when I felt the ligament grumble. I pulled up initially and thought about jacking, but elected to shorten my stride a little and hung on for 8th in 20:11. The squirrels clapped heartily.
So this week I have parked the bike up again and have broken out the trainers. I am master of the Voltarol rub-on cream, although I doubt its efficacy extends to more than a mental crutch. Any reasonable medical person would advise against strenuous exercise, but what do they know about the receptivity of a backward and petulant runner.  I took an easy 7 miler yesterday through the woods and will do something similar today.
One of me buddies joked I was now 4th fastest in the house. This is true, but happily I am vying for 3rd spot with chef Linds; but she's coming on a treat. The dark destroyer is at altitude in foreign climes mixing it with olympians and speedy joe has been having a run of exceptionally good results, most recently at Stirling and then last week in Kilmarnock.  Its a funny thing being inspired by your kids, but there we go, Unexpected and as good a therapeutic break as you're likely to get. 
The 2 cross country fixtures that were cancelled in November down this way have been re-scheduled so I might get a chance to get my new spikes dirty. I'll miss the Devils Burden Relays but might have a crack at the Scottish Masters XC. 
On the reading front, after reading the novella 'My name is Lucy Barton' which despite all the blurb I found unremarkable, I plugged my way through the competent but uninspiring offering from Ian McEwans 'Solar' (I know I'm being deliberately critical for effect here). My holiday read is Cruz Smiths 'Gorky Park' and I am making good progress through this russian thriller.  Its just gonna be me and Renko at the edge of the pool!