Ben, Steve, Worthington & Covid

I like walking in the mountains and try to go at least once a year. One of my favourite trips was back in 2011 when four of us went to Eskdale in Cumbria for a long weekend and we enjoyed the most glorious weather at the start of July. I remember sitting in the beer garden of the Boot Inn after a joyous walk in the sun thinking to myself that “life doesn’t get much better than this”. In July of this year, two other friends of mine planned to re-create a trip to Scotland and I was hoping for similar weather to that I experienced twelve years earlier. Our first visit came in 1992 as teenagers, this time, we had a much smaller window of time and were somewhat geographically dispersed with the three of us living in England, Wales and the USA. We planned to drive up, camp, climb Ben Nevis, eat, sleep and return. We did it but the weather was poor. Paul was a bit less athletic than his teenage self and consequently ascended the mountain very deliberately but to his credit, he made it, even if it was a very late finish. I had planned to run Fort William parkrun on the Saturday morning but given the fitness of the others and the logistics of getting there and back meant it was a bad idea. Looking at the results, I’m sure I’d have won it too but it wasn’t feasible. I came home full of aches and pains, no doubt compounded massively by being curled up in the back of the car for fourteen hours while we got caught in the mother of all traffic jams on the M6 near Preston.

This meant that my first run in over a week came at the Steve Morris 5 race in Desford, the seventh LRRL event of nine. I wasn’t exactly champing at the bit but felt well enough to score for the team. On paper, we had a strong side out but there was no margin for error should anyone not show up or get injured. I ran most of the way in tandem with Hinckley’s Ben Masser, bringing back memories of losing to him by one second at a parkrun many years ago (!) my first two miles were pretty brisk but then I ended up seemingly to just hang on to the end, which I did in 29:15, a long way off my best but all I had on the day. As it turned out, we were a man light of a full strength outfit which cost us the win on the day and subsequently the league title to OWLS, who would now have to do something amazingly bad in order to not win it from here.

Two days later and I was racing again, this time at the Worthington 6 race, a league race for Tamworth AC. Matt Scarsbrook was running, winning it at a canter and I had to battle hard to get in the points in what looked like another strong Tamworth side. Unlike Badgers, they do not have the same volume of runners in their league events but the quality of those that do run is very high. Last year I set a 6 mile PB with a highly aggressive run. Here, I was much more measured in my approach. Matt bolted off on his own in front and a handful of other runners made up the top ten. I was in a group of half a dozen runners including a couple of vets. If I could emerge from this group in credit, I might pick up the vets prize for the race. It was a race within a race. The group held together on and off almost to the very end, with my team mate Max Kent splintering it with around 800m to go. We both finished in the top ten, Max then me and with Pete and Ash already long done, we scored maximum points in our quest for the BDSL title. I narrowly finished first vet overall in 35:15. The undoubted highlight of this race for me was being able to run once again with Gordy Smith. I always thought I would get the opportunity but when it presented itself I felt incredibly humbled and fortunate. Gordy is a great guy, a proper character but an incredible athlete. He’s a few years older than me but somebody I look up to in terms of their enthusiasm, mentality and work ethic. He was in bits at the end, not surprising really as he continues his recovery from the big C. Suffice to say he wasn’t far behind me at all.

I’d not made it to any track races this season and the following day was my last opportunity to do so. There was the option to run the 800m or 3000m at Sutton Coldfield, again for Tamworth in the Midlands vets league. I opted for the longer distance but try as I might, I struggled to keep pace and was just hanging on as best I could with whatever I had left in my legs after two races in three days immediately before. I finished fourth. I’m glad I scratched the itch and for once it was nice to do a track race in something other than poor weather but maybe next season I will do some more specific training and give the track season a better go, especially as on the road I feel I will be treading water until I turn 50 in 18 months time.

My toe was hurting now, I was fearful that I had broken it on the Ben Nevis descent, so rest was prescribed, especially after another distant second place at Kingsbury parkrun. I gave up three quarters of the way round but in retrospect it was a brilliant decision to do so. I’d have been second either way! I managed a couple of pleasant bike rides in the week but my energy levels were really lacking. Another week off running was not part of the grand plan but necessary I felt, in order to recapture better form long term. I went back to parkrun on the weekend having not run at all between events but ended up giving up much earlier than the prior week, emerging back in third and slightly quicker than the prior week (18:32) but particularly sluggish. Even the run back to my car was an almighty battle. I was so devoid of energy, I wanted to walk but I refused to and plodded on home. My wava rating was the highest in the field which I took as a phyrric victory. Later that day, I tested positive for Covid, for the very first time, having managed to avoid it for the whole three and a half years or so that it has been around.

My first thought was how I would keep myself occupied while I cleared myself of the virus but such has been the levels of fatigue experienced, I’ve spent most of the last week in bed, sleeping for about 18-20 hours out of 24. The first two days were bearable. The exhaustion came in waves so I could manage some household tasks like hoovering or mowing before needing a lie down. Looking after Rory was a challenge at times, you feel such a bad parent because you are constantly taking the easiest option. Luckily he has avoided catching it. There were times when I felt like I had climbed to the top of a mountain then been put in a sack and rolled back down to the bottom. Hot and cold sweats, coughing, headaches, dizziness, feeling nauseous. The tiredness was the worst. Today has been a better day so hopefully I’ve turned a corner. The positives to emerge from this week are that it happened when it did and not while we are on holiday, and the fact that my goal racing weight has now been reached, although I would definitely not prescribe this course of action as a means to lose a couple of kilos!

Washlands Relays & Prestwold 10K

My next race in 2023 was a return to Burton upon Trent for the Washlands Relays, a two-mile (ish) fun (ish!) blast in teams of four around the park in the evening sun. It would be the third time I had run the event, after making my debut (for Badgers) in 2019 when our quartet took second overall in a rain soaked race, standing water everywhere. Last year, I ran in Tamworth colours, going out far too fast and hanging on grimly in the second half. This year was more of the same, representing another strong Tamworth quartet of Ash Baldwin, Reinis Baltins and Rob Dyjak. The race counted for the BDSL league but the short distance of just over two miles per person and carnival evening atmosphere brings loads of runners to the table regardless of how involved in the league they may be.

The race is over quickly but you have to be super smart to pace it perfectly. You simply have to be aggressive from the off but go off too quick and you’ll be running through treacle at the finish. If you hold a bit back early on, there is little time to pull the race back round as it’s over so fast. I wanted to run more even splits than in 2022 although I knew my form was not at the level of last year. I’m sure I shipped about half a minute between my first and second miles back then so I had to be more conservative initially. That said, when on leg one, you need to get a bit of space ahead of you and not get boxed in before the race strings out. I soon found myself sharing the lead with Mark Parker of Ivanhoe and soon afterwards I was working my way back through the field as more runners came by!

I had nothing left to speed up to the finish, not that the course lends itself to be able to achieve this easily. There are a couple of tight turns heading over a footbridge and its as much as you can do just to get across and over the line. I helped our team into 5th overall by the first changeover and even managed a time of 11:22, two seconds quicker than 2022. I was the slowest guy in the team although we were well beaten into second on the night by a dominant Lichfield side. I hung around afterwards looking for the presentation which was not at its usual home of the pub, but I couldn’t have stayed anyway as a text from home indicated that Louise was in need of some urgent medical assistance and quite likely another hospital visit so I sped home in a panic. Thankfully a trip out was avoided but not after making provisions for childcare and a night full of concern (for me) and discomfort (for her) in the meantime. On Saturday, I chanced my arm at Kingsbury parkrun, taking third in 18:10.

My final race for the first half of the year came once again at Prestwold, in the LRRL league. From a team perspective, we were missing Matt and Dave Hill which meant we would be likely to drop the result in the final analysis (you count your best 8 scores from 9 races), so there wasn’t a huge incentive to perform. Individually, I was too far adrift of Owl’s Rich Wayman this season to be able to challenge him for the over 45’s title but the most significant factor on the day was the extreme heat. While it was the same for everybody, it made the day thoroughly unpleasant for all. As a former RAF base, there is no shade to be had either, so no chance of success, no chance of a PB, good chance of heatstroke, what was I even doing here? Admittedly, it wasn’t a good mindset to have going into a race but I didn’t care. I ran sensibly, getting done in 37:21, about two minutes slower than my 10K PB, which was fairly consistent with most people’s times in the conditions. Everyone I spoke to disliked the race. This is no sleight on the organisers. The location is always uninspiring albeit with a good finish area for spectators and runners alike. It was just the hot weather allied to the lack of discernible shade made for a miserable morning.

Start of Washlands Relays

20 metres to go!

Kingsbury parkrun start

Prestwold 10K

A win’s a win!

In my career to date, I’ve won plenty of parkruns and a host of age-group prizes but when it comes to winning races outright, my successes have been few and far between. The Coombe Abbey 10K, Uttoxeter 10K, Brewood Woggle 10K, Abbott Trail 5K (twice), a mile on the track in the Midlands Vets league then a fistful of fun-runs which don’t really count as official. Anyway, at Prestwold last month, I added another to the list. The main objective of the race was to complete my club standard times award for the season. With ten distances to choose from, runners need to meet targets at at least eight different distances to gain the award. I was sat on seven and missing either a twenty mile, a marathon time or a ten miler. The latter was far and away the most achievable target. There are no twenty mile races I could attend between now and the end of August, a marathon in summer is fraught with danger, I’d need to train specifically and the temperature is likely to be a big obstacle. Also in terms of meeting the targets, the shorter the distance, the easier the targets seem to be – for me at least. Not that I was ever attempting it but I missed the marathon target by about a minute and a half at London. Anyway, there was a 10 mile event at the four distance Chase The Sun event at Prestwold Driving Centre, a disused airfield currently recommissioned as a driver training facility, flat, barren, devoid of much character and about 45 minutes away. I signed up as I could make the date and it would save on a much longer trip later in the summer, although in the event of failure, that still may have been necessary.

With a few days to go, I looked at the entry list and it seemed a little short on numbers. Around 80 people were entered. More might come on the day but it looked like an expensive outing on the face of it. Having worked in sales for many years myself, this looked a tough sell. My motivation was to obtain a time inside 63:26 but I didn’t think there would be many in the same boat. The race fell four days after a LRRL race so it was unlikely that a lot of the big hitters from the league would be back at it so soon afterwards, especially at the price, and I was right. I looked through the list and there were a few club runners in but not many which again implied a modest standard overall. This meant that there was an outside chance of a win. A chap by the name of Dave Greenwood from Holme Pierrepoint was in. He had an impressive pedigree to say the least. A PB two minutes quicker than me over the distance, a 75 minute half marathoner and a sub-34 10K runner, in his prime. Luckily for me he was a V45 athlete and his more recent times were on a par with my own. He would be the obvious danger unless there was an unknown unaffiliated athlete who could knock us both out of the park.

There wasn’t and I knew it would be a two horse race at the outset. The race announcer offered runners to step forward if they felt able to break the course record of 53 minutes or something. Nobody moved a muscle! Only the two of us toed the line before the off, which meant to me that we were the only two athletes who even believed we might be capable of winning. I was in a no lose situation. I wanted to win but if I didn’t, I could still return home having completed my set of times. I was confident of running well inside the target time. The game was now how simply to beat him.

As is often the way in my life generally, I decided to make it up as I went along. The route was an out and back to start followed by six laps of the airfield. Maybe I would track him and burn him off at the end, perhaps we could work together each taking turns to bear the brunt of the wind (it was blustery as well as warm). The start seemed timid and within 200 metres I had already hit the front. If I could establish an early lead, it would be a tough slog for anyone not leading around that course. I enjoyed the benefit of a lead bike and halfway in, we were joined by runners competing in the 5K, 10K and mile races meaning there were hundreds of runners on the track simultaneously. With the wide course, it didn’t present too much of a problem overtaking and it helped in so much as you were able to have something else to look at rather than row after row of solar panels which filled the grassed areas surrounding the route.

The biggest problem came with seeing how big my lead was as there were now plenty of people behind me all in different races, distinguishable by their race numbers which aren’t easy to clock while looking over your shoulder at speed and from distance. By halfway, I felt good and knew I had a considerable lead. The race was mine to lose and my time was well in the bag as I was averaging six minute miles or fractionally under. It was a case of counting down the laps to the finish, each lap had it’s own good bits and bad bits. A friendly smile or word of encouragement from a particular marshal, the drinks table and passing the finish area – all good. Battling into the wind, avoiding swathes of slower runners plodding along en-masse not so good. The lead bike helped clear a route and the sun was shining throughout. With two laps to go, I knew I could relax a little and not have to push all the way to the end. This is the perversity of winning. In most races where I have not won, I have had to give 100% all the way round in order to achieve a better position or time. Here I could go at just below maximum effort and be triumphant! Surely winning means that you have tried extra hard.

It was a dull course to say the least and in itself this was used as motivation to get finished sooner! Each glance behind proved pointless. I could not see any imminent danger but nor could I make out exactly where my closest rival was in proximity. I made an effort on the home straight to look professional rather than arrogant when coming to the end while also savouring the occasion as for all I knew it could be my last. And at 48 years of age, it probably should be by rights. The winning time was 60:06 so well inside my target and a few seconds shy of breaking the hour but I was not bothered by that in the least. I threw my arms aloft and milked the moment. Dave Greenwood followed just under a minute later and we were both around ten minutes clear of third place, confirming my initial suspicions about it being a two-horse race.

There was no prize ceremony afterwards and I had to co-opt a young spectator into taking a picture of me on the podium that is resident at the venue. I have been on it once before but in second as the winter league V40 runner up a few years back. I didn’t mind too much as it enabled me to get home quicker rather than have to hang around for the final runner which could be another hour. My prize was free entry into another one of the organiser’s many races. I’m thinking of having a bash at a triathlon, one, because it’s the most expensive event they do, and two, I’ve always fancied having a go at one sometime, even if not terribly seriously. I’d need to get Glenn to fix my bike for me first mind!
There are a few snippets of me in action here including crossing the finishing line, plus a short video. I meant to write this soon after the event while all the emotions were fresh in my mind but life kinda gets in the way and here we are one month later!

https://fb.watch/lIabWyu5pO/