Introducing....

The Colossus of Roads

Championship Race number 10. Freckleton. It sounds distinctly unimpressive. Certainly not the sort of place-name to strike fear into the heart of the hardened (northern) runner. And yet, we all wondered, what will it be like to run at 2pm on the longest day of the year, on an almost totally flat, tarmac course? What heights of endurance, what depths of determination would we need to fathom in order to, as we call it, ‘get round in one piece’. None of us, except Karen (and that was when she was just a bairn) had run this course before. Entries had closed weeks before, leading to frustration among those who missed the cut. Last chance for 13.1m PB points this side of summer, and apprehension outweighed expectation (16tons v 12.1kg) at the pre-race ER gathering. Tony, alone, was hopeful of doing something, but still kept his powder dry. I think everyone else thought of survival, in the mental sense at least.

The omens weren’t good - but then, they rarely are. We all oozed negativity on the drive down the M6. On arrival, we discovered a bowling green-flat sports field complete with attached funfair. I hoped, out loud, that the helter-skelter would be included on the course, perhaps adding excitement to the usual desperate gallop to the finish. And there was an enormous, perfectly straight and evenly measured carparking grid marked out in white lines on the field. That, and the pre-race instructions’ insistence that we use FOUR safety pins (no, not two, and certainly not three), gave the distinct impression that this was not so much a race as an exercise in mass manipulation. And woe betide anyone who even considered folding their number. Suitably frightened in case the undercover shoe-lacing stasi were watching, we milled around on the field, each going through his/her own version of a ‘proper warm up’. Yes, you know what I mean. A little slow running, a stop to tighten your laces, a little more gentle running. A pause as you pass the toilets queue, pondering whether you feel the need (again) . You don’t, but as you stand at the start, you wish you had. All this to a pre-race soundtrack which included every song I can think of with the word run’ or ‘running’ in the title. Yes, including ‘Keep On Running’, which I’d got sick of hearing by about 1974. Why do they have to DO that? Maybe it’s just me...

On the upside, today we had the pleasure of running in the same race as Dr Ron Hill, famous for some fast endurance stuff and some clothing. He was deservedly given the big build up by the race director at the start, and I for one felt pathetic just listening to what he’s done in this thing we call running.

The weather was decidedly on the warm side, and as runner turned to runner to wish each other good luck, we all quietly regretted that we weren’t able to find some other way to fill this particularly muggy Sunday afternoon. No matter, we were off. There were 5 drinks stations en route and man, were they necessary. There were also showers organised for those who were overheating to cool themselves off under. Of course I misunderstood their purpose, and was shoved out of the way at the second one before I’d even got the conditioner properly rinsed out of my hair. Undeterred by this setback, I picked up my gel and towels and sped off.

I got sent the wrong way at around Mile 5 which caused me some amusement, but with no change in gradient expected anywhere, it was about trying to hold your pace and position. It soon became the usual attritional battle between tiring limbs and flagging willpower & concentration. After 9 miles of running mostly on country lanes there came a long, almost straight section on path beside a main road back towards Freckleton itself. This was the most difficult part for me. I was lucky to be running with a bloke in a yellow vest who seemed determined to run away from me, so keeping him in check was helpful. Why are these people so competitive? It's only a bit of fun after all....

It doesn't matter how many races I run, I still convince myself that I can't possibly run any further, and intend just to run to that corner or that tree or whatever the nearest visible hiding place is, and then quietly sneak off and lie down. Does anybody else do this? Thought not...

At the finish, there is sadly no helter-skelter ride, only that familiar mix of exhaustion and relief. And heat. But no PB. There are free bananas, and the race memento is a towel rather than the ubiquitous t-shirt. Other ERs begin to appear. Karen (no PB either), then John (nope), then Julia (nah, not today), then Tony. He battered his way over the finish line a full 6 mins and 30 secs faster than previously. That's very nearly 30 seconds a mile faster. Quite a performance. And 15 extra points in the bag.

We awaited SuperKev's arrival slumped in a heap on the grass, exchanging tales of woe and regret, but at the same time pleased to be there. Kevin finished, clearly not feeling well, having battled through the heat with great determination. But again, no PB.

So we wound our way back out of Freckleton to the M55, Tony's PB points stashed in the boot. Today, having been there and done it, I resolved that I would make sure that next time would be better. And that, I think, is what makes me keep coming back.

For the record, Tony would go on to race twice more in the next six days. And in the second one, he racked up another 15 PB points. Truly, a good week. But, why do these people have to be so competitive? It's only a bit of fun after all....

Hellvelyn Fellrace "The Joy of Pain"

Sunburn,Burst blisters, scratches all over my legs and a bruised coccix (don't ask!) - what a great race!
Just to add to Ian's entry - more runner's-eye-view piccies
1. THAT climb and descent from St Johns (ouch!)
2. Nice view over to Thirlmere
3. Getting rocky underfoot on way up - what a skyline!
4. Post-race tea & cakes anyone (Yummy)
Good turnout for such intimidating terrain, and I'm going to have to watch that Stu Stoddart, he was breathing down my neck on this one.
Ant

Helvelyn Fell Race

A spectacularly sunny day saw 5 lads & 1 lass from Eden runners line up for the start of the Helvelyn fell race, a new race for us all apart for the old hand pcso Labram. The race starts with a near vertical ascent up onto Calf Crag, how steep did not become apparent til the end when we had to descend it to the finish. It didn't take long for me to assume my usual position in the pack & spent most of the race trying to keep ahead of Anja and up with Shaun Hardisty who was trying to keep up with Steve Hartley with Stuart Stoddart & Anth way ahead out of sight.

It was a well organised but physically hard race however Keswick AC had the foresight to post a marshall on the summit of Helvelyn just in case any of the competitors didn't know where they had come from.
A couple of random thoughts crossed my mind after I finished the race....I can't wait to see the crims in Carlisle trying to run away from Anth, why are my legs all wobbly & how am I going to get those grass stains off my backside..... well it was a very steep descent!!

Results were

Anth 17th 1:59:51

Stuart 20th 2:00:27

Steve 60th 2:16:26

Shaun 80th 2:21:35

Me 93rd 2:27:05

Anja 102nd 2:30:04 & 9th lady

Magnificent Seven

Well, there it was. The 7th event in the 2009 Eden Runners Road Championship series, the Golden Ball. A mere 5000m, a blast alongside the River Lune, between Lancaster & Heysham. Only 5km, but enough to sap every last drop of energy. Legs which feel like springs at 11am (obviously I’m not referring to my own legs here) feel like lead by 10 past, and then like concrete & clay (oh, the sidewalks and the streets) by quarter past. But you do get a t-shirt, and then if you’re like me, you lose it before you get home. Never mind, I have too many t-shirts anyway.

In 2008, the club went to this race and in the aftermath we had cause to re-focus our priorities and think again about what we are and what keeps us here. All was well in the end, and so we came back - complete, thankfully, with Dave.

7 of us gathered in gentle spring rain on the old Lancaster Road at Snatchems (so called because the pub was a target for press-gangers looking for 'volunteers' for their ships at the height of the cotton trade). Also present were Karen’s two daughters Emily & Tiffany – neither running, though for differing reasons. Emily because she is still recovering from a throat op, and Tiffy because she is “... too little. They said the roads are too busy. Hmph.” (I wonder who she takes after?) Maybe the field was 80-strong or so, and we reflected that the damp weather had possibly caused a few to stay away. In 2008 we had 20deg of blazing sunshine, today we had maybe 14 or so, and heavy cloud cover. Thankfully, there was no breeze to speak of – almost ideal running conditions. Kevin, Dave and Tony engaged in some pre-race psychology that even Maurice Green would have thought twice about. Disgraceful. A few apprehensive minutes on the start line were whiled away considering whether there is a perfect way to tie a shoelace. We briefly touched on hitch, clove-hitch, reef, sheepshank and Old Mother Walker’s Errant Child Restraint. This latter one was reprised on the day by Andy – he said because his laces were far too long. We said it was because he had too much spare time on his hands, as he was ‘Home Alone’ for the weekend.

Mile one includes two sharp left-handers (Brian Lara and Jimi Hendrix, respectively) which put you on your tiptoes as you approach, but mostly it’s straight and flat. Mile one is reached still on the main road, although I can barely remember any traffic at all. Another left takes us off the main road and onto Moss Road, back towards to river. We then run a loop around the lanes, anticlockwise, reaching the two-mile mark at the highest point of the course, with good views back towards Lancaster. That is, if you have the energy to take anything in visually at this point. I don’t. It’s downhill for a short way, then back on the flat for the long run-in to the pub. There are several water hazards on this section, enhanced by the morning’s rain, and negotiating these is a welcome distraction from the unrelenting pain of running hard. Actually, it’s just running through puddles - but hey, it seemed quite exciting at the time. And the tide was out, otherwise we'd have had to freestyle to the finish.

Finished, and I can stop, spent. A few moments later Karen flies into the finish funnel, followed closely by John. We shake hands and exchange exhausted well-dones. Next in comes an unstoppable Andy Walker. Then comes an improving Tony Lowery, hanging onto his 18-second lead over Dave Peacock. Right on Dave’s heels (3 seconds!) is Marathon Man Kevin Whitemore, and that’s it – we’re all home.

We stay for the prizegiving, as Karen has yet another podium finish in her age-group. There are several talking points of course, but the biggest problem we could find was that Tony had forgotten to start his watch. Which mattered to Tony, but was hardly life-threatening. Not like 2008.

So, race seven over, performances analysed and reflected upon, we all returned to our respective homes & families, maybe a little bit richer than when we’d left. See, it’s only running, but it can give you such a lot. Even if it is just 5000m.

Grizedale Grind April 22 '09

Great ER turnout to one of my favourite fellraces, well done everybody!

60+ runners taking part, including a few superstars... Ben Bardsley won in @25 minutes, which I think is a new record time (awesome!)

Picture 1/ Grisedale Pike (path can be seen running up the spine)

Picture 2/ Line up of 9 intrepid ER fellracers

Picture 3/ Fresh from the fray!

Anniversary Waltz '09 - Runner's Eye View

Took my Box-Brownie with me on the race today (and what a day!). NOTE PICTURES IN REVERSE ORDER BOTTOM TO TOP! I'll get used to this Blog software yet!! Key:- Pic1/ Race HQ pre-start Pic2/ Startline crowd Pic3/ Stu at Startline Pic4/ Runners snake back far as eye can see (1st climb) Pic5/ Fastest lady in foreground (1st climb) Pic6/ Looking back (1st climb) Pic7/ Up in the high country (1st checkpoint) Coastline windmills just visible Pic8/ The Mighty Dalehead (just descended) Pic9/ The exhilerating descent down to Catbells.. Note:- Descent from Catbells summit to Stair village in @5minutes - extreme!

FREE food, tea and BEER, now that's a good value race in my book.

Another grand day out.

Anth.

A Sting in the Trail....

Sun 29 March 2009, Grizedale Forest, nr Hawkshead
Grizedale ‘10’ Trail Race. 1pm start.

I arrive with about 50 mins to spare, to be met by the most random carparking arrangement I’ve ever seen at an organised event. Left off the road, onto a forest track, already lined with hundreds (it seems) of cars. You have to drive gingerly through a constant stream of entrants all making their way from their cars, some parked miles into the forest, back to the road to get across to the number collection point, on the other side of the main road at Moor Top. After crawling along for around 10 minutes I eventually reach the spaces at the end of the queue. Unable to turn round, I keep going until I’m convinced I’m on the outskirts of Newby Bridge. A nine-point turn follows and, imagining for a moment that I drive a 4x4, I park on top of a small gorse bush. Now, the drive down has been in unbroken sunshine, and I’m thinking ‘no sleeves required today’. I get out of the car, and in the shade it feels still close to freezing, and this is grizzly country. I need long sleeves. So I quickly retreat into another top, lock the car, jog off down the road, return to the car to get my racing shoes on, lock the car again, jog off down the road, return to the car to get my ER vest, lock the car, and jog off down the road. So, number ceremoniously pinned to vest, a half-hearted warm up follows, and we begin to gather for the start. Which is, predictably, among the trees.

The prelude to the Start is a bit surreal. A bloke appears in front of the throng, holding up a sign marked, encouragingly, with the word ‘Start’ written on it. He says nothing, just stands there facing us, holding the sign high above his head. Perhaps we’re caught up in a Dom Joly routine. The runners begin to go quiet, wondering if he will maybe burst into song, or perhaps deliver a solemn monologue. Ian wonders if this is a ‘Silent Start’, where we just run as soon as he drops the sign. The hush deepens. Disappointingly, I’ve forgotten what he said (“Go!” maybe?) but we all begin running at the same time, and in the same direction. As usual I’m trying to find some room to run at the edges. After a few hundred metres, in a true ‘Keystone Cops’ moment, suddenly the race in front of me stops, someone shouts something about the wrong way, and we abruptly turn 90deg left down another track. There are people running in all directions. I am in about 6th place, and Ian is just about heading the field in front of me. It seems to take far too long for the leaders to come past us again, so I’m looking back over my shoulder to check that it wasn’t an elaborate double bluff. Nope, there are hordes of people chasing me. And everywhere, there are trees.

Anyway the course continues downhill, and more of the fast boys come past. Anyone who’s been here before knows that at 2.5miles the course begins a huge climb which lasts almost two miles. It must have hurt, but I can’t remember feeling it. Somewhere before mile 6 there is a fantastic, almost aerial view of Coniston Village to our left. This is the only recollection I have of any vista that isn’t obscured by thousands of pine trees. Very pleasant course, as long as you’re not hylophobic (look it up)


I soon get into competition with two other runners who have the temerity to overtake me near the top of The Long Slog. They didn’t get away, and I subconsciously decide that I will tag along. So we go on, me catching them at the 6m drinks station, they overtaking me every time we run uphill (this happens far too frequently), me dragging myself level & overtaking again on the levels or downhill. I dimly had remembered that there was another climb before the finish, and hoped I’d be able to keep the gap manageable so that I could try to find a fast finish. But no. The final climb, although not steep, proves a gradient too far for me. They got away, and although I was gaining on them again I just couldn’t find enough. Hmm. Must revisit my pre-race. So, a bit depressed, I finish and am handed a Grizedale 2009 mug, which I take to Wilf’s van, where it is magically filled with tea, and I am offered a bewildering choice of yumptious cakes. ‘Pineapple & Fruit’ (is that not a bit tautological?) proves a good choice – it is an almost instant anti-depressant, and it works, as I wander back up the finish straight to encourage other ERs home. Not that I’m much use, as Ian arrives at the same moment as a huge mouthful of cake. I nod encouragingly though as he passes. An encouraging nod can make all the difference, I tell myself, even if the ‘noddee’ is unaware of it.

It’s a bit cold, I realise. I head back to the finish area to see what’s going on there. Ann arrives shortly afterwards, looking as serene as she did before the race (how does that work?) I make my excuses and head off, knowing I have a several-mile walk uphill to find my non-4WD off-roader. And, eventually, there it is, still looking uncomfortable. Then again, so would you if you’d been sitting on a gorse bush for two hours.


I happen to meet Kevin at the foot of the hill again. He has completed his first ever ‘proper’ trail race, has eaten his cake and drunk his tea. Mission accomplished, we leave for home. Another recollection pops into my head as I go. The bloke who finished in front of me picked up a goody bag but had to put it back, being told ‘ ....they’re only for the ladies’. I never found out what was in the bags. Any ideas anyone?

Causey Pike (it could only happen to a bike mechanic!)

Race#2 in the ER FellChamps series Sat 28th March.

The 'twin peaks' of Causey seen from Derwentwater

I thought it might be a fun idea to bike to the race instead of driving, in order to reduce my 'carbon stud-print', I'd seen other racers doing this at previous events, so thought I'd give it a go. All was going well until I double punctured 2miles away from the start venue (I never get punctures!) & discovered my self-adhesive repair patches were about as much use as a chocolate fireguard - what to do?




Only one thing for it ... Fellshoes on & run to the start pushing the bike (made it with 10mins to spare (phew!)), no need for a warmup anyway!

Well done to ERs Stu & Ian, and big thanks to another cycling runner called Piers who lent me his puncture kit for repairs to be conducted in the comfort of the village hall.

I should mention that the 1st Vet40 Scoffer Scofield got one up on me by biking in, then going for a bonus training-run up Catbells after the race before biking home!!

What a grand day out.

Next Champs Race Loughrigg at Ambleside Wed April 5th 7pm (a cracker).