Category: Short run

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There and back: a tale of crazy folk

Today was the day of the Extreme Running: London to Brighton race and I felt really sorry for the runners, including Cliff and Pete, who were tackling this 90km / 56 mile monster, especially as it was the wettest day since the day I ran with Cliff and Dai out from Lewes.  It was chucking it down for hours on end and I was very glad to be inside, looking out.

Alas, I had told Cliff that I would definitely venture out with some moral support as they would be passing within miles of the house on the way through.  Short of getting a heavy afternoon cold, there was no getting out of it!

So around 4.45pm Kim pushed me out of the car in Wivelsfield Green so that I could run a section with them.  The worst of the storm had actually blown away by then and it was quite a good temperature for running but oh boy, was it ever wet underfoot!

The first thing I realised was that Cliff had some hangers on… on account of the fact that he alone seemed to be able to read the map.  Shortly after this revelation, I came to the conclusion that whoever had decided the route must have been inhaling laughing gas.  The short section that I did was blithely labelled the ‘easiest part of the course’ but even now I cannot link up the points on a map that I know we passed.  It was convoluted in the extreme, to the point of torture, added to which sections were actually under water.

Mind you, I’m sure that’s not the main reason it took two hours to cover somewhere under 6 miles.  Ah yes, I feel I must mention my fellow runners, though prefacing whatever cheeky comments I’m about to make by reminding you that in the preceding nine plus hours, they had just run 45 miles: if you have run a marathon, some 20 miles shy of this distance, you can at least begin to understand how they were feeling.

The wusses!  Staggering along like they had zimmer frames!  Even I could keep up!  Although I too would have got hopelessly lost if it weren’t for Cliff’s map reading!  Even though even he managed to miss the correct path up the scarp slope to the Beacon, involving us in a slightly more, er, direct ascent!

Actually, Cliff looked in pretty good shape and Pete, who really wasn’t, had a genuine excuse: he ran in the barking mad Mont Blanc ultra marathon only a few short weeks ago.  In this company I appear decidedly sane for a change!

Anyway, we eventually reached the Beacon at 6.45pm with the light fast fading and I let the boys motor on while I turned gratefully for home.  And as I dropped off the Beacon, I finally picked up some speed.  But by the time I reached Ditchling it was dark and I had a stark choice:  Run back the normal way, which I know to be tricky even in daylight, run back on the road despite wearing a non-reflective black jacket, or call for reinforcements, which was very appealing under the circumstances.  

I’d like to say that I ran all the way back without stopping.  I would like to, and I did.  If Cliff and Pete, along with Dave and the other hangers-on, could run the last few miles to Brighton after a completely mental day, I could hardly wimp out now.  In fact, I managed the 5.15 miles in just 44 minutes, around 7mph.   Not at all bad considering I could hardly see a thing!  Note to self though: black jacket invisible to motorists at night: it was only fortunate that I was wearing shorts and they could see my legs!

Kim finally called to check I was okay when I was about five minutes from home… the advantage of which was that the remnants of Friday night’s Bolognese was already bubbling on the stove when I finally walked in.

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Hats off to the Council

Occasionally, just occasionally, one has to ask the question: WHY?  On a beautiful, leafy junction of three paths near to Ditchling Common, the Council has gone to the effort of installing a steel signpost clarifying that each of the paths is a Public Bridleway.  No other information is proffered and I am bewildered as to whom this sign has been erected for. 

Clearly not the locals who enjoy the route to get away from signs of the nearby urban area.  Nor anyone with a map.  Of other possible folk who need to know that these paths are bridleways, anyone reliant on signage would get into trouble a couple of minutes later where the path splits again without the benefit of a sign.  If there is a rational reason for this particular sign, I would really like to hear it:  if it’s a good one, I will happily eat humble pie.

This morning was grey, but the sun snuck a peek under the clouds for a while and filtered gently through the trees.  Nick is currently under the weather (I wonder if he’s been snogging a recuperating Cliff) so I decided to make a run for it on my own.

I went out past the post above, keeping to the bridleway until I turned off onto a path marked with a more subtle device.  This was clearly not a bridle-path as I had to clamber over a stile… I’m sure that my keen observational skills are a benefit of having been a Boy Scout in my youth.

This mere footpath was not so much to my liking as the stinging nettles were waist high and I was wearing my shorts.  Still, I thought as a plunged on through them, at least it’ll keep my hay-fever at bay!

I passed the beautiful old church behind the Royal Oak,  crossed into Hundred Acre Wood, went up through the new wood that the Best Brothers are growing (they use simple, home-made footpath signs here for their twisty, fast-narrowing paths) and came out onto Hundred Acre Lane.

Further on I passed Lew’s place… if you read this Lew, MAN I love the contemporary structure in your garden.  The whole idea of placing a shed without a roof in the middle of a garage without a roof really appeals to my sense of artistic space! Tracey Eminen would be proud of you.

From there I ran along the magical path, passing the evolution of the once peaceful St Georges Hall into what I can only imagine will be a metropolis for the silver-haired.

As I finally beat a path home, so I had a hair-raising moment… my hat was quite literally lifted, rather gently actually, from my head.  It took a few moments to register before I turned and reached for the camera. 

Strangely, having taken the photo, I almost ran off without it!

The distance is still to be calculated (no fancy wizardry on my wrist) but the time was one hour and two minutes and despite not having run for a week, I feel pretty good, thank you very much for asking!

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Quick run

Nick & I had a meeting scheduled for 9am this morning and he suggested that we squeeze a quick run in first.  Twenty minutes into the run, he pointed out that he hadn’t meant quite this quick.  For some reason I was flying along.  So much so that at the turning point we had covered 3 miles in 24 minutes.  7.5mph.

We then ran the return leg at his pace, covering 1.9 miles in 15 minutes.  7.6mph.

Along the way, we chatted a lot, which puts paid to the theory about gassing slowing your running.  

Nick had also, well, er, let’s just say that he’d eaten a curry the night before.  Which puts paid to the theory about gassing slowing your… oh, I seem to have said that already.

Amazingly, we found time not only to notice the charms of the magical path and the beauty of Ditchling Common, but also to philosophise about the fact that people who live here see this countryside often, but seldom actually really appreciate it.  

Even running, the tendency is to be watching the ground in front of your feet, rather than appreciating the richness of the scenery in front of your nose.  

Especially if Nick is up front after a curry night.

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Wednesday passed

Phew… what a manic week!  I’m really glad it’s the weekend!  Ah yes (at 9.30pm Sunday) was the weekend!

It’s rare that the comment precedes the post, but Nick managed to beat me by four days this time and since my memory fades after about five minutes, you’ve little hope of hearing very much more about Wednesday.

We ran pretty much the same route as the last two runs except for a small additional loop which made the mileage, courtesy of Nicks satellitical device, 7.09 miles.  This was run largely in amiable conversation, except where he called me a wuss for wanting to keep my feet dry… and I reciprocated for the same reason later on.

So, how long did it take us? 63 minutes… which is not bad for a conversational trot.  Of course the Bok actually got back 30 seconds ahead of me, demonstrating that he’s still the little league champ!

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Replay, speeded up

After attending Clive and Nat’s EXCELLENT party on Saturday night (the new extension is a real triumph guys!) I had only a brief window of running time yesterday morning.  Cliff and I had discussed running together, but since he had wimped out of the party on account of having the sniffles (I think that he agreed he was a WUSS, although the rest of us are probably grateful that he didn’t share them with us!), I guessed he’d probably not be up to it.

More through being too lazy to devise another route than any desire to compare times (no, really!), I followed the same route that Dai, Daren & I ran last week.

It had been raining for most of the preceding 24 hours so I guessed it would be muddy, hence decided to wear the orange shoes, but I actually managed to find very little beyond surface mud… the MUD season has clearly not yet started in earnest!  The shoes however, are great… go see Kurt at Run in Hove if you want to be prescribed something similar!

There are a few wooden bridges and stiles en-route and these were perilously slippery, but my ice-driving experience got me through!

Let’s cut to the chase, so to speak.  The time last week (clearly hampered by a self-confessed Division 2 girl guide) was 75 minutes.  My unstressed time for the 7 mile route yesterday was, er um, 62 minutes!

Which brings me to a question regarding Daren’s fitness league.  How do we differentiate between the different players?  Daren might complain that he’s slow, but if cheerfulness is taken into consideration, he’s way up at the front.  Dai is clearly a contender too, as he can get up after months off and run that distance at that speed.  Cliff and Pete, both a lot older than me, could run at that speed even if you made them go around the circuit 10 and 15 times respectively.  Meanwhile Nick might only run it once, but it would be in about 14 minutes flat.

We clearly need a new differentiator.  I propose an annual timed route of about ten or twelve miles, with a handicap system based on the number of miles run by the individual in the previous 12 months… which gives Daren a fighting chance, with only a 65m superyacht to run around for months on end! 

To start the proposals coming in, may I put forward the route from my house to the Beacon and back, or alternatively Clayton Church to Blackcap & back.  What say ye?

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Demolition in progress

The last time I ran with Dai it was chucking it down with rain, so it was rather appropriate that Daren, Dai and I should choose this morning to run since it was once again precipitating in-extremis.  In every other way though, it was a lovely day to go out running.  And a good day to take the orange shoes for a spin.

We headed out past Ote Hall, getting a cheery wave from the lady of the manor as she drove past, out past the pyjama-llamas (I know Debbs, they’re Packham’s Alpacas really) and down into Wivelsfield village.  Then up Hundred Acre Lane and down through the woods.  It was all so beautiful, despite the rain.

Once past the industrial estate (hey Lou, your garage is about the size of my house!) we ran down the magical path and then back across the common to home.

The orange shoes performed well by all accounts and the soles were strangely cleaner at the end, but much wetter!  There’s still little to beat running with friends (other than maybe eating breakfast with friends, or having a beer with friends).  And I found this lovely photo of Daren & Dai hanging over a five-bar gate when they were much smaller.

Seven miles took us one hour fifteen, which must be under 6mph, but only because we were gassing so much!

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Real quick

This is going to be a really quick post, as I’m in the office, but I have a couple of speculative articles to write this morning so this is to get me in the mood.

Tuesday was once again training night with Haywards Heath Harriers and I duly turned up despite the pouring rain and the fact that I had to change in the office to get there on time.

We warmed up with an 800m jog as per normal… normal, that is, except for the rain. 

David had laid out some flags as markers and after stretching out a bit, we hopped on one leg to the first flag, the other leg to the next, jogged to the last flag, did ten squat thrusts and sprinted back to the start.  Sounds easy doesn’t it, but it is surprising how quickly you run out of puff.  By the end of fifteen minutes, the hops were slower, the squat thusts more laboured and the sprints a mild jog!

At one point I was stunned when the whole ensemble raced inside because of a heavy downpour… having run through last winter (oh, and with the protection offered by my Gore jacket, which I had judiciously chosen to wear!) I hardly noticed it.  To be fair though, there were very few other jackets present and many cotton t-shirts, so I can’t say I blame them!

Next up were 200m tag sprints.  One of a team of two sprinted 200m around the end of the track, where the other carried the metaphoric batten for the second 200m and the first walked back across the middle to the start to keep it going.  My partner Mike was quick enough to ensure that I always had to jog back to meet him, but not as quick as two of the others as I was always chasing the same two people down the back straight.  This was a really great target and it made me stretch out far more than I otherwise would have done.

On one lap I found myself behind a young lad who consistently has too much energy, demonstrated rather well by the fact that in addition to being faster than anyone else, he also kicks his heels right up as if he’s still only playing!  I chased him hard down the straight and round the corner, but on on the exit he just stretched ahead while my energy failed!

Having run us out of energy, we then had a gentle 400m jog, followed by a mass start for a 400m sprint.  I started slow (or was that I HAD to start slow, on account of still being puffed out?) but managed to reel a few people in down the finishing straight.

The final 400m jog then started out as a walk for me, as that was all I could manage, but I must be getting used to the training as my legs weren’t quite so troubled later in the week as they had been in previous weeks.

This weekend is another garden special, but I shall hopefully get a long run in at some point to see whether the training is starting to make a difference there.  Have a GREAT  l o n g  weekend all!

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Running after satisfaction

Last weekend I had the good sense not to try to run after a heavy day’s labour in the garden.  Yesterday once again saw me working hard on the new, um, shed and by the end of another eight hours or so, I had adapted the design again and jointed out the floor joists… of which there are eight.  I had also treated all the cuts and stowed everything away in the dry to make assembly slightly easier… whenever that actually happens!

As with my workbench, I consulted with Andrew, my woodworking mentor, which enabled me to take the huge step of getting my ideas off the page!  Though I collapsed in a small heap around 7.30pm, I experienced that rare type of satisfaction that you gain from trying something for the first time and somehow managing to make it work.

Somehow I managed to convince myself that I should run today, despite many contra-indications.  My muscles, particularly in my back, were really stiff from yesterday; it had been raining and it was now hot, meaning that the humidity was high and… isn’t that enough?

I ignored sense & went out anyway.  The going was really tough and unlike normal, it didn’t get any easier as I progressed.  I ran out past Ote Hall, skirted Wivelsfield Church, went round the back of Wivelsfield and then dropped into the village itself.  From here I ran straight along Hundred Acre Lane, cut round the Industrial Estate and returned via the Common.

I was not surprised that this short run took me over an hour, but I was surprised that I managed 7.35 miles.  The one hour nine minutes time meant I had only run at 6.39mph, but even this was faster than it felt.  Now I’m in a quandary as to whether this counts as a short, or long run!

This afternoon I felt the need to move very slowly in case of a personal power outage, but I still managed to lay the weed (or is that rat?) barrier and drill a few holes which will hold the posts up and treat the cuts and holes a second time.  I guess it was quite fortunate that I ran out of wood and hardware, otherwise I might have been tempted to overdo it completely!

Bizarrely I also had grand intentions to move files etc into my new office, but hey!  Enough!

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Off-track training

Last night was training night at Haywards Heath Harriers and once again, Martin was running the show.

There was a good turnout, in spite of the chilly wind and I for one needed the 800m warm-up to do just that, despite three layers.  After stretching out we ran another 400m, this time fast, faster and fastest. 

Next up was a rough 75 jog before turning to sprint back.  There were some quickies in my group so I ended up pushing myself hard and ended up right out of breath after three or four reps. 

Which was a shame as the next session was a timed mile.  I should have had no problem with this, but instead I had two.  First, the chilly wind was giving me ear-ache and second, I couldn’t breathe out enough to get rid of the stitch that I’d got from the spinting.

I laguished home in a sluggish 7 minutes 19 seconds, with only my ease in the last 100m sprint to suggest that I could have got a (much?) faster time.

From here, Martin took us off-track, running down into the local woods to a couple of useful football-pitch-sized grass fields.  Useful also because they had a steep gradient, or in fact several.  Twice up the hill across the middle of the first field and back around the outside left me hot and shedding one layer.

The second field had a similar gradient, but also had large undulations and by the time I had struggled up the first couple of short hills, I had shed a second layer and was much more comfortable.  By the third time around I was coasting happily down the downhill sections and sprinting hard up the final hill.

With twilight fast approaching, we took a gentle jog back up through the dark woods and I really admired the way that the only partially sighted Mike just went with the flow, keeping a smile on his face despite the fact that he clearly couldn’t see the dimly lit multiple cambers, tree-roots, stiles, mud, overhanging foliage etc.

A final 500m jog around the track finished the evening and sitting here the next day, my legs don’t feel too tired… let’s see how they are tomorrow though!

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Tuesday training

It may prove to be too far to drive after work, but I thought I would try Haywards Heath Harriers midweek training session for a second time.  I was not disappointed.

The trainer this evening was Martin, who introduced himself to me after I had run the 800m warm-up by getting me to do another lap on my own, split into fast, faster and fastest.  This meant I was knackered before we even started!

First up was some circuit training: two sets of two minutes each of star jumps, side jumps, passing medicine balls at shoulder height, squat thrusts and press-ups.  If I thought that I had been exhausted, I was now!

Next was 15 minutes of the fast, faster, fastest that I had already experienced.  Wiser now, I moderated my enthusiasm, but after ten minutes or so of keeping pace with the ensemble, Martin pulled three or four of us out to put more effort into it… basically dropping the fast bit and running only faster and fastest.  Two laps of that and I was pooped!

Next were 200m sprints around the end of the track, with a recovery walk back across the middle.  I thought I was going to get away with coasting this, but I soon found myself rising to be competitive!  By the time I had completed eight of these, I was strangely starting to get into the swing of it.

To cool down we had four light & fast 75m runs with a recovery walk back and then stretched out in a group.  A gentle 400m jog rounded off the evening.

I felt pretty good, but my second-morning-after aches were profound and as of Saturday morning I was still suffering.  The sign of a GREAT work-out!  Whether or not I decide to continue, I can thoroughly recommend this club!