Well we did it!
Three old git runners survived Herbert's Hole this past sunday with varying degrees of success, pride just about intact. One was complaining of a sore hamstring, one of virtually everything including gout, a headcold and a sore ankle, and the other one had no complaints, but had run for 90 minutes the day before. And that's the order we finished in really in the first race we had run together since the Flora London Marathon in 2000!
Yours truly had a good week, all in all, with the "power-swimming" helping gradually to push my sore hamstring into the back of my mind. The online purchase of a funky neoprene thigh support helped psychologically as much as physiologically, and by friday I was off into Wendover Woods for an hour and a bit offroad, hilly and wet as well. A quick 3.5 mile "burn" around the village here at a little over 8 minute mile pace on saturday morning convinced me I was again ready to race. It even had stopped raining, but not enough to convince me that the next days race would be anything less than a mud bath.
Sunday was a beautiful day, crisp and clear, with enough bite to cause me to get out the thermal undershirt as I pinned my number to my vest. After a very civilised espresso at a handily placed Cafe Nero in Chesham, we ambled with little purpose over to the start, a line of tape between 2 trees drawn across the park. I began to remember the race at that point, and earlier Paul had reminded me of the time we had run it before by unveiling his t-shirt of the 1994 version. How could it have been 12 years ago?
At 11 o'clock (not on the nail) someone pulled the tape away, and about 250 mostly middle aged club runners set off up the hill in Lowndes Park for just under 7 miles of "sun in the autumn sun". The first hill strung the field out pretty dramatically and I felt quite good, noticing that I had already "detatched" myself from Trev and Paul by the second bend.
"I'll run my own race then", I thought to myself. The grass soon gave way to some single track paths and over-taking (and being overtaken!) became impossible for a kilometre or so. The 2 km sign seemed to come up very quickly and I consciously trimmed my pace back, remembering that a weeek before I had puled a hamstring. "I do not want to finish this injured", was pretty much a constant voice in my head throughout the race and I probably got into a comfort zone on the road and flat trail sections in the middle of the race. There were one or two sharp hills in the middle but the main difficulty came from mud on the long farm track on the way back. I kept thinking - don't sprain your ankle - and thankfully I didn't.
I managed to pass a few in the last uphill stretch and finished the 10.75km ("Garminned" by Trev) in 57'32". That time put me around mid-pack. Next year I'll be quicker.
Three old git runners survived Herbert's Hole this past sunday with varying degrees of success, pride just about intact. One was complaining of a sore hamstring, one of virtually everything including gout, a headcold and a sore ankle, and the other one had no complaints, but had run for 90 minutes the day before. And that's the order we finished in really in the first race we had run together since the Flora London Marathon in 2000!
Yours truly had a good week, all in all, with the "power-swimming" helping gradually to push my sore hamstring into the back of my mind. The online purchase of a funky neoprene thigh support helped psychologically as much as physiologically, and by friday I was off into Wendover Woods for an hour and a bit offroad, hilly and wet as well. A quick 3.5 mile "burn" around the village here at a little over 8 minute mile pace on saturday morning convinced me I was again ready to race. It even had stopped raining, but not enough to convince me that the next days race would be anything less than a mud bath.
Sunday was a beautiful day, crisp and clear, with enough bite to cause me to get out the thermal undershirt as I pinned my number to my vest. After a very civilised espresso at a handily placed Cafe Nero in Chesham, we ambled with little purpose over to the start, a line of tape between 2 trees drawn across the park. I began to remember the race at that point, and earlier Paul had reminded me of the time we had run it before by unveiling his t-shirt of the 1994 version. How could it have been 12 years ago?
At 11 o'clock (not on the nail) someone pulled the tape away, and about 250 mostly middle aged club runners set off up the hill in Lowndes Park for just under 7 miles of "sun in the autumn sun". The first hill strung the field out pretty dramatically and I felt quite good, noticing that I had already "detatched" myself from Trev and Paul by the second bend.
"I'll run my own race then", I thought to myself. The grass soon gave way to some single track paths and over-taking (and being overtaken!) became impossible for a kilometre or so. The 2 km sign seemed to come up very quickly and I consciously trimmed my pace back, remembering that a weeek before I had puled a hamstring. "I do not want to finish this injured", was pretty much a constant voice in my head throughout the race and I probably got into a comfort zone on the road and flat trail sections in the middle of the race. There were one or two sharp hills in the middle but the main difficulty came from mud on the long farm track on the way back. I kept thinking - don't sprain your ankle - and thankfully I didn't.
I managed to pass a few in the last uphill stretch and finished the 10.75km ("Garminned" by Trev) in 57'32". That time put me around mid-pack. Next year I'll be quicker.
What of my two mates? Well, Trev was pretty "under-cooked". Work committments, an insidious tendon problem and a persistent head cold have kept his mileage well down and after refreshing myself I was able to cheer him down the last hill about 5 miutes back. Paul - well he was pretty much "over-cooked"! Once again he astonished us by telling us he'd run for an hour and a half the previous day with his saturday septuagenarian running partner, Alan. As a result he was pretty near the back. Thankfully he did beat the 80 year old man by about a minute. seeing this gentleman "sprint" for the line brought a cheer to everyone and gave us that sense of smugness:
"You see - running allows you to do that."
If your joints, bones and dignity survives that is....
Glory days - I did a fast five yesterday and the week climaxes with my son James and I running the Ravenstonedale 10k in Cumbria on saturday. It will be James' first foot race of any distance and I have the repsonsibility of pacing him. The whole family re-convenes in a restaurant in Lancaster on saturday evening to celebrate Debbie's birthday. Hopefully the boys will have the warm glow of athletic achievement to ease the passage of large quantities of house red down the gullet.
Now I really must get some long runs in if I'm going to marathon the spring!
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