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/

Swithland 6

It’s a race I’ve not missed since I ran my first back in 2014 and an event I’ve always enjoyed. I don’t ever recall running badly at Swithland but neither do I recall a barnstorming performance either, partly due to the warm weather that always seems to accompany this Leicestershire League race. I ran 34:23 six years ago which stood as my personal best up until last July when I went eleven seconds quicker at Worthington for Tamworth. This year, I was looking forward to the race, especially after missing the previous round with a head injury.

I had been mowing my lawn in the evening after putting Rory to bed and in my haste to empty the grass box, strode headfirst at some speed into the corner of the garage door which was in an almost upright position. Had it been in a full upright position, I would have walked underneath it but those extra couple of inches make all the difference. The impact floored me, I wasn’t knocked out, I had my wits about me but it flipping hurt! My first reaction was one of embarrassment – “I hope nobody saw that”. It appeared nobody did. I heard a car coming into the close where I live. I wasn’t sure whether I should try and get to my feet like a stunned boxer or just have a minute more on the floor pulling myself together at the risk of encouraging alarm. The neighbour in question didn’t bat an eyelid and went straight into their house, not that it is a common occurence where I live to have residents lying in a pool of blood on their own front driveway I hasten to add!

I noticed my head was bleeding profusely and immediately my thoughts turned to the West End 8 the following day. I desperately wanted to run but my head had to stop bleeding and quickly. I tried knocking the locked front door for some assistance but there was no answer. My wife thought I could deal with any enquiries as I was already out and about! I staggered around the back again, dripping blood all through the house to get to the kitchen where I tried some cold water and a tea towel to stem the flow of blood. It seemed pointless. I thought I was going to need a blood transfusion the way it was flowing but that would definitely rule me out of racing so I tried to hope it would stop of its own accord given a little longer. I made it up to the bathroom upstairs to get my head under the shower but I could barely see, there was blood everywhere. I couldn’t see out of my glasses, the dog was covered somehow then my wife came in and saw the carnage. Being medically trained (veterinary) she got me to apply pressure and stay still before taking me to hospital after arranging childcare.

Deep down I knew I should go but could feel my race chances dwindling by the second. My head was very painful and my face covered in blood. Hopefully this look would enable me to be seen quicker! The sooner I could get back home to bed the better. I’d already been in A&E looking after Louise earlier in the week and now I was back, only this time completely unnecessarily. I needed some assistance but felt terribly guilty for taking up valuable time and resources borne out of a moment of what I felt was stupidity on my part, not that anything that happened was deliberate, far from it. Just a complete accident.

Anyway, they cleaned me up, checked me over, glued my head back and told me I’d be stupid to run, if only because the glue would get wet with sweat and I’d end up back in the next day. The decision was made for me then. I wasn’t going to take up more NHS resource by disregarding their advice. I think it’s morally wrong and quite offensive to do this, especially when as a member of the public you have had good quality and completely FREE care. I had a headache for the next 24 hours but it went. I felt worse after the race because I believed that the team outcome would have been different had I been there. Even if I had a poor race, we’d have done enough to outscore our main title rivals OWLS. As it was, Payney ran fatigued, possibly not expecting to be needed and we got beaten into second. We now have a mountain to climb to retain our title of the last three terms.

So back to Swithland. Last year I ran okay but didn’t feel great at the start, a little off colour but nothing major. The race sold out quickly and was packed full of local racing superstars. I’ve never troubled the top ten at this race and that was certain to continue to be the case! Being a veteran of seven of these races prior to today, I knew that the first mile is a real cavalry charge, downhill in a full field all egging one another on. My tactic was to switch off and run reservedly for that first mile or so. I ran 5:22 so it appeared to be a fail, but it didn’t sap the energy out of me for the latter stages as I was able to hold pace reasonably well.

There were so many good runners there. I noticed that last season’s league champion Mo Hussein was back after injury but he held back quite a bit after a hectic start and ran well within himself to the point where I harboured ambitions of for once being able to beat him in a race – not that it was really a level playing field! I kept him in range most of the way round, hoping that by the time we reached the last 100 metre downhill dash to the line, I would be able to launch an attack and claim a the unlikeliest of scalps. That failed too! Mo pulled away a little before the corner and while I was able to increase speed to the line, the gap was too big and besides, with the gradient, everyone else increased their speed to the line so to make any impact, you’d need to go up two gears not one and I was already at my limit. Mo is my little lad’s favourite runner, probably because he always seems to win when Rory is watching. I thought it would be great for him to see his dad beat him. I didn’t and even if I had, Rory was still playing on the swings so would have missed it anyway!

Still, when I stopped my watch, I was amazed to see I’d run 34:18, six seconds shy of my personal best. Other than checking pace and distance, I didn’t bother doing any finish time predictions or extrapolation – I was too busy racing. I finished 30th in the end, Matt was second in 30:19, there were international athletes in the field too. I was well off any prizes although the men’s team should have picked up second as per the prior year but a technical glitch led to the team prize giving being postponed on the day. It was my second quickest 6 mile race in 25 efforts and my course best at the age of 48. Suffice to say I was delighted even if it meant that I would likely have to drop the points in the individual V45 leagues due to the volume of quality in the field. Barring injury to Richard Wayman, I think that ship has sailed this season but hopefully I can get on the podium. He is running really well again this term and I’m yet to beat him. I got within twelve seconds at Swithland but still conceded many places despite my best efforts.

I was still in the points as fourth Badger back out of the six scorers. Neil Russell was back in action for us which is good to see. He was right behind me and the team are a lot stronger with him in it. He’s another oldie like me and keeps me on my toes! With any luck, I’ll be back in the points in the next race at Prestwold when we have a couple of lads missing. That’s at the end of June so no doubt I’ll bring you news of that next when it happens.

Bosworth Half Marathon 2023

The Leicestershire League races come thick and fast in May starting with the Bosworth Half marathon, a race I have not missed in a decade now since my debut in 2013 when it was not a league event. That year was the first time I’d managed to break 90 minutes for the distance and I remember Matt Tonks telling me that once I’d broken that barrier there would be no going back, and he was pretty much right apart from one small aberration. My times for the race had been reasonably consistent without ever being exceptional. I train a lot on large chunks of the course and harboured dreams of breaking 80 minutes one day. After a three year Covid enforced break, the race and possibly my best chance had arrived. The forecast early in the week was rainy, changing to overcast but dry. Both were wrong. The sun came out as it always seems to in this race which was good only in so much as it helped to dry out the previously sodden 80 metre dash on grass to the finish.

The route is very familiar but slightly challenging, not really a PB course in my view. There is a long straight 20 minute stretch up the Fenn Lanes which is pretty dull and a tough grinding climb into Bosworth itself but the final two miles are predominately downhill if you have the energy to capitalise by that point. One of my running heroes, an original Badger and now lifetime member Martyn Barrett was back racing for us, he is now resident in Yorkshire and it was great to say hello albeit fleetingly before the start.

My record at Bosworth is as follows:
2013 – 89:47 (41st place) PB
2014 – 84:43 (15th) PB
2015 – 92:08 (50th)
2016 – 88:37 (29th)
2017 – 82:55 (11th)
2018 – 82:13 (28th)
2019 – 85:52 (25th)
2023 – 80:49 (17th)

The race began and straight away we sensed that Matt (Scarsbrook) would win as his main rival Mo Hussein wasn’t there on the start line. Matt bolted off chased in vain by Dave Hill and he by Ryan Preece. I followed Preecey in fourth leading out of the park which would have made for a great photo were one to have been taken! Four Badgers leading a 700+ strong field. It was also conceivable that Danny could have made it a 1-2-3-4-5 behind me but he assured me that Simon Allen of Owls had broken the Badger train at this point with Danny tucked into sixth spot.

My initial high place was not to last, in fact it only deteriorated as the race wore on. Unlike London where I overtook hundreds if not thousands of runners in the second half of the race, I failed to go past a single soul all race! I wasn’t affected by it although in hindsight I would have shunned my early photo opportunity for a better paced run, not that it would have made a massive difference to where I believe I would have finished anyway.

I ran with Danny for the first mile, chatting a bit on the way. I was like a coiled spring, raring to go and covered the first two miles in 5:40 and 5:38 which was way too quick. I tried to rein in my initial enthusiasm and Scott Green eased past me followed by a pod of three Poplar runners. Their club could be another threat to us at the top of the league in 2023. I saw my parents who had cycled out to Upton to watch the runners go through, I was about tenth at this point. There were Badgers and other familiar friendly faces every other mile along the route. Matt finished five minutes ahead of the field in 70 minutes, an outstanding run by any measure, especially as he was alone for the entire time. The sun made for a slightly slower race for everyone which effectively put paid to any hopes of a sub 80 time but I held on for 17th place and took a tenner home by virtue of being second V45 runner behind a high quality run from Owls’ Richard Wayman. Once again, I was picked off by Jamie Strange in the closing stages but there were big gaps either side of me at the finish which is sort of satisfying in so much as you’re less likely to have doubts about what might have happened if it were close.

On the positive front, I had done pretty well in the main with a course best time at the age of 48 and having run the course more than any other half marathon. I scored for the club again as fifth Badger back, one place away from being in the victorious men’s team which is good for our league ambitions if not for me personally! The day will surely come soon where I do not score for the club but I keep trying and it keeps happening. The time was probably worth a sub 80 on a flatter course in better weather and I didn’t feel overly jaded afterwards, although I was headed straight off to a coronation party on our cul-de-sac post race and a family holiday to Menorca immediately afterwards. The downside was that I ran tactically poorly but got away with it due to the great levels of support at regular intervals and the experience of numerous races before.

I know there’s more to come but I just need to knuckle down and get a good training block together, especially now the marathon is out of my system, both physically and mentally, the former good and the latter bad – the buzz has gone! Now is one of my favourite times of the year and I will try and make the most of things. I got a couple of 10K runs in while in the Balearics but didn’t get out daily, partly due to recovering from Bosworth and also finding the time alongside trying to occupy an energetic four year old! It’s the West End 8 this coming weekend, another race I have run many times. I’ll have to dig my records out and see what I can achieve this year.

Dave, Ryan and me chasing Matt (out of shot already!)

2 miles in

T-Dogg marshalling at Sutton Wharf

Half way

Matt won by a huge margin

Good too see Martyn back racing at 65

Finishing trudge on wet grass

Meeting another mayor!

Prizewinners from the race

View from a rocky coastal run on holiday

Uttoxeter 10K

As a man who had barely raced in 2023, my upcoming schedule provided me with two half-marathons on successive weekends after the London marathon, which filled me with trepidation. I had already committed to the Bosworth Half on May 7th, a league race for my primary club, Badgers, but the Uttoxeter Half the week before may have been a bit too far too soon. Entries closed four days before the race so I left it to the last possible moment to gauge my recovery from London. I remember post-Manchester in 2022, I was in bits for weeks afterwards but this time, I got a massage much earlier on and generally felt a bit more lively.

By Wednesday, we (Tamworth AC) had a team of six so I was less needed (with six to score) and I decided to opt for the 10K race instead, that way I could show my support for the others without wrecking myself for the summer ahead. I was torn. I wanted to help the team but selfishly, I wasn’t sure I was up for a fast and tough half, even though at 80% capacity, I’d still finish high enough to bag a few points. I couldn’t trust myself to not push when it came to it though, just too competitive, and besides, the decision, a correct one as it turned out was already made. I’d finished first and second in the 10K race in 2017 and 2018 respectively and while I had an excellent half marathon outing in 2022 here, the half marathon distance being a BDSL league event, I missed the opportunity of a rare race win in the 10K as the top time was well within my capability.

The races run together which means it’s difficult to fathom out who you’re racing against. I remember in 2017, I was lying fifth I think and we reached the split off point about half way round and discovered that all the athletes ahead of me were in the half marathon so I found myself a surprise leader. Race numbers are worn on the front and differentiated by background colour which is no use when you are looking where you’re going!

At the start, I had a quick scout around to see who looked handy in my race. There was James McCann, a sub-16 5K runner who looked the part, he finished second and that I thought was it. As it materialised, another runner, the veteran John Muddeman took the victory. He went upfront early on and looked like he wanted the win, his eyes told that tale. He wore a Notts AC vest which as one of the top clubs in the country, suggested he might be a talented runner. He was. For the first couple of miles which are mostly uphill, I was in a group of four including the perennial runaway half marathon winner Carl Moulton of Congleton.

At halfway, I was still in contention on the face of it but I felt that the other two had an extra gear to go to whereas I didn’t. Rather than forlornly battle to stay in touch, I let them go up the road and carried on for third. They didn’t pull a huge lead on me overall, less than a minute by the finish. John said afterwards he had to accelerate to drop James who as the younger man looked like he might have a good sprint finish in him, and so he did. Had I run right on the edge, I would still have been third, just a lot more tired afterwards and four days later at the time of writing, I still feel pretty fatigued!

The race was memorable for the rare sight of being led out by a massive JCB rather than a lead bike. It was too far ahead to benefit from drafting but there was a point at three and a half miles where, along a narrow lane, it met a vehicle naughtily coming up the other way despite road closures. A brief stand off ensued as the car had to back up to a passing place, meanwhile the first three runners, myself included, manoeuvred round to carry on regardless. Then, the JCB couldn’t pass us easily due to the narrowness of the road and it’s gargantuan width. After a couple of minutes, I waved it through and the two leaders did similarly soon after and normal service was resumed, if you can call being led out by a JCB normal!

Anyway, the last mile includes a big steep downhill which I couldn’t really attack due to both the gradient and my state of weariness! I knew the guy behind me was a comfortable distance behind so I coasted back in third 36:47, giving me my worst position and fastest time ever in this race. I was sore at the end which justified my decision to miss the league race and drop down in distance. There’s no option to do similarly at Bosworth where I would dearly love to go faster than I have managed in each of my last seven outings there. 82:13 is the time to beat, but it will be my first attempt in carbon-plated shoes so here’s hoping!

John, me, Keegan, Pete, Max, Howard & Derek

Ready for the off

Let’s go!

After 5 metres, this is how the top three ended up

Two miles in

Photo by Bryan Dale

Crossing the racecourse near the finish

Final dash to the line

London Marathon 2023

Wow! What a day! One of the best days of my running career. Whatever outcome (or range of outcomes) I may have foreseen at the start of the London marathon, the end result was certainly not amongst them and I say that in a good way. Days later and I am still trying to process what happened and understand how and why.

Everything was wrong in terms of me being able to deliver the performance I did. I’m a firm believer that you should always have a plan ahead of a marathon. Like taking a penalty at football, decide early and stick to your choice. My only plan was to run continuously at whatever pace seemed right at the time. In the days leading up to the race, people were asking what sort of time I expected to run. I figured somewhere between 3:15 and 3:30 would be most likely. I’ve not run many marathons but I’ve done enough to understand that if you can keep running, the time will look after itself. The easiest way to start haemorrhaging time is to stop and take walk breaks. Given that I had failed to reach 19 miles two weeks earlier, the chances were that I would struggle in the closing stages, so in order to best deal with those final miles, I needed to have as much energy as possible come three-quarter distance. That said, I probably underestimated how much my poor nutritional choices contributed to that poor run.

With T-Dogg before going our separate ways at London Bridge station

Heading out of Blackheath to the start

On the park with sunshine that wasn’t to last

Some fast lads in this photo. Dave M (2:49), Preecey (2:38), Dave H (2:33), Rob (2:41) and me just before the start

With no pressure or expectation, I approached the day with curiosity as much as anything. I helped my mate Ashley, who was stopping in the same hotel as us, find his way to his start area and met up with Dave Hill, Ryan Preece, Dave McGowan and Rob Dyjak in the yellow start area. We stopped in Hammersmith which was both logistically good for us and more economical price wise compared to locations in and around the start or finish areas. I lived in London for five years and rarely did you speak to strangers on the tube, yet today we had a lovely long chat with a lady who rowed competitively and took a real interest in the nuances of distance running. The train from London Bridge to Blackheath was like a sardine can on wheels. I reckon I lost half a stone through sweat for the fifteen minute journey to the start. Organisers like you to be at the start areas nice and early in London but the ridiculous length of toilet queues suggested to a severe under-provision of facilities for the event which now had a record level 50,000 entrants. The sun went in and it started to get cold. Luckily, I took a bin bag for dryness and my semi-legendary “I Love Malta” top to discard at the start for re-use among the needy. People were urinating everywhere. The police were asked to take race numbers and fine perpetrators. The bloke on the PA was apoplectic, albeit in a very apologetic way.

And they’re off….

At the start, I tried to calm my competitive instincts and run my own race. The first third of a marathon is usually full of running, people full of energy and excitement, many having not run for several days immediately before and getting withdrawal symptoms and almost all going off too fast. The weather was chilly and the rain began to come down heavier. My first 5K incorporated my warm up as such and at 22:15, it was a nice easy intro. Charlton was a little bit uninspiring and bereft of supporters and by the time we reached Cutty Sark, a magnificent spectacle that I slowed for in order to appreciate, my vest was sodden wet to the point that it felt heavy and as a result I tried wringing it out on the hoof while trying not to damage my paper race number.

The second five kilometres were slightly quicker but that was understandable as I’d warmed up by then and it was marginally downhill. There was a good amount of standing water and you had to really concentrate on running lines and feet placements with potholes, other runners in the way and a raft of discarded water bottles around the stations. I could very easily moan about the general etiquette around drinks stations but I won’t!

Tower Bridge

Looking for Clare

London. Somewhere!

About 16 miles I think

Beginning to motor

As Tower Bridge approached, I kept lookout for my friend and hairdresser Clare, who was poised with an encouraging cheer and a warm smile. She wouldn’t be the only Badgers supporter on the course. I had countless shouts on the way round, partly because of the novelty of having the word BADGERS emblazoned on my running vest I’m sure. There may have been others who knew me or recognised the vest. Either way, it was all appreciated and welcome. I saw Martin Graham and Ellis Cross’s mum Dawn cheering me on, Louise and Rory too which was good but a slightly hard spot as I wasn’t sure which side of the road and where exactly they would be. Rory seemed excited to see his daddy in action. Matt Green, Carl & Esther, John Savin-Baden, Cheryl and Megan were all spotted which all helped keep the momentum.

I went through the first half in around 1:33 which meant that even splits would likely give me a Good For Age qualification (3:10 was last year’s benchmark). At this point I felt pretty good, no signs of tiring, although I strongly expected it to happen imminently. Given my longer training runs, I was convinced about it – the key was when and how badly. Just after halfway, you get to run a mile or so and watch the elite race unfold across the other side of the carriageway. I could see Kiptum had streaked ahead. Mo Farah came through in about tenth place and received the most almighty roar from both crowd and runners on my side of the road, including me I must add!

One of my favourite pieces of marathon advice was how to tackle the race in three thirds, tidally almost. For the first third you must run (or swim) as the tide is going out, fast, and you need to be disciplined and stick to your own race plan. Many people will overtake you. Let them. The middle third you will be running in equilibrium with the herd and the final third will see you overtake lots of people as they start to flag and you are running against the tide of people going backwards. I’ve written that three times now with each version being worse than the one before, so it probably sounds rubbish! I know what I mean though!

Your marathon is won and lost in the final 10K. The majority of runners are tired, their splits inconsistent and their analysis graphs raggedy. My goal now was to be as strong as possible in order to negotiate the hardest part of the race. I took a gel at the first station 14 miles in. There was Lucozade to drink too, in recyclable cups which while great from an environmental standpoint, a nightmare trying to drink from while on the move. I tried everything bar standing still to get the fluid in. I managed to get a load in my eye, some on my shoulder and my hands were a mass of stickiness. I even resorted to running along with my mouth wide open like a fish, lobbing the drink in vicinity of my mouth in the forlorn hope that enough of it would go in for me to drink! That did not work either!

At 20 miles, I was feeling good and a quick mathematical calculation left me needing to run an average of 6:30 minute mile pace to the finish for the unlikeliest of sub-three marathons. It thrilled me to think that this might even be a possibility and it meant stepping up the pace. But I felt more than capable of doing so and figured that were I to start struggling after 5K for example, I should have built up enough of a time buffer to chug back under 3:10, again, a dream outcome for me before the race began.

Upping the tempo along the embankment

Blasting past the London Eye and anyone else in the way

I had to employ a few sidesteps to find gaps to hit and burst through towards the end

Final mile with Big Ben in the distance

And so for the first time in the seven London marathons I’ve done so far, I attacked the final 10K with plenty of gas left in the tank. And it felt great! I was overtaking people, very rapidly at that, all the way to the finish it seemed and that only served to make you feel invincible. I was incredibly focussed at this point, in the zone as they say. I’ve had that feeling a handful of times in other sports, cricket, rugby and football, where you feel so confident that everything you try is achieved successfully. It’s such a rare thing to capture and experience. I needed 6:30 pace but was comfortable enough at 6:10 so I banked a bit more time just in case. I figured I could always treat myself to an easy finish! There was a raucous sounding steel drum band belting out some great rhythms at mile 24, stationed beneath an underpass to enrich their sound and volume. I got such a buzz from that. I knew I was going to be fine keeping pace to the finish. The penultimate mile came in at 5:54, my fastest of the race and then other runners seemed to accelerate over the final mile with the end being so close.

On The Mall

Sprint finish to the line

Almost there

I afforded myself a cocky smile as I approached the line, finishing in 2:58:23. My third fastest marathon and one I shall treasure forever. While I was grateful to finish, I would have been happy enough to continue for another three or four miles. I even ran to collect my medal which made the lady handing them out jokingly accuse me of not trying hard enough if I could dart over like that! Amazingly, I ran a massive negative split – 93 minutes and 85 minutes. It was completely accidental but maybe there’s something in running a marathon that way.

Final shot before warm clothes on and shoes off

When I looked back at my training in 2023 so far, I was shocked to see just how few ‘longer’ runs I had managed year to date. Admittedly, I had been out of action for around 50% of the time with one thing or another but prior to the race, I had just four runs over half marathon distance:
18.6 miles – with stops
17 miles
15 miles
14 miles
In addition there were three ten mile runs and a twelve between new year and race day. They were the only eight runs I managed of double digit mileage. Prior to the Manchester marathon in 2022 I remember doing two twenty milers in the same week! How I ran a sub three time off the back of such limited endurance training I’m still trying to figure out. Sleep hasn’t been good subsequently, probably because I am still trying to process and understand what happened. And my little boy seems insistent on getting up at the crack of dawn!

Post race should have been a real climb-down but the truth is I was still buzzing. Mobile networks were jammed and communication next to impossible unless face to face, a bit like old times for people of my generation! Dave Hill (2:33) and Ryan (2:38) had both gone under the club record, as expected, but take nothing away from two exceptional performances, both borne out of hugely industrious efforts to get in shape beforehand. They set off ten minutes before me and finished quicker and were understandably getting cold in the meet and greet section where we planned to reconvene.

With T-Dogg (3:27) and Payney (3:03) at the end

Fortunately, I bumped into Dave McGowan who ran a superb 2:49 when at one point it looked like he wouldn’t be running it full stop. He did brilliantly and much as I’d have loved his time, I certainly did NOT fancy his drive home to the Midlands! Then Adi (Payne) and Ash (Taylor) arrived. We’d heard Ash Baldwin was been treated by medics which didn’t sound good at all but as communication was so desperately limited immediately afterwards, we had no detail to go on. Luckily he’s ok now and still ran a staggering 2:38 despite feeling well below par. Rob clocked a PB of 2:41 – another awesome time. The others went to a local pub afterwards, we went back to the hotel as Rory (and I) were both tired and my past experiences of a post marathon beer told me to expect a long wait, no seat and probably a bit more coldness given the weather on the day. A few of us held a little meet up in the Angel back home the following night to share our experiences with one another which was much more enjoyable and convenient.

Even made the local paper – mind you, I did write the words for them!

Marathon unready

Five weeks have elapsed since my last blog post and in keeping with the training block so far, the period is a mixture of time off interspersed with a few snippets of good stuff. I rested my hamstring diligently and felt able to test it out with a gentle round the block jog two weeks after sustaining the tear. All was well until a bout of what we believe was norovirus struck our household as both me and my wife were battered by its ruthlessness. Amazingly, Rory avoided being ill but we kept him off nursery for fear he would get it and spread it – also, neither of us were in any state to get him there on Tuesday morning anyhow. They say running a marathon is tough but I reckon having to look after an energetic four year old when all you want to do is go back to bed and curl up into a ball (if you are not at this point vomiting) is a tougher task.

The Kibworth 6 race came along at the weekend and I was ready to go by then. I can’t remember going into a race with such a mediocre build up but it was as it was so I had to make the best of it. We were a couple of runners light of a full strength side so I knew I might be required to step up. Its a hard race at Kibworth, not just because of the gradients but also knowing how to pace yourself accordingly. My first few attempts were dreadful but I persisted and managed to knock out a PB there back in 2017 I think it was. Gumley Hill still remains one of the most challenging ascents of any league race I’ve done to date. The race went better than I expected given the lead up, I finished 25th out of 534 folks, beaten by a few runners I’d normally expect to be ahead of, but my time of 36:27 was within a minute of my course best of six years earlier. Most satisfying was that I maintained pace and effort through to the finish whereupon I was absolutely spent. I was worried before the race that that point might come four miles in rather than six so that was another moral victory. I also found myself to be going better than average uphill, one of a small number of runners to not include a walk break up the steepest section of the aforementioned Gumley Hill, but conversely was below par going downhill which I always considered to be something of a strength. Most importantly of all, the hamstring held up ok and I even scored points for the side behind Danny, Matt and Ryan. Leonids and Payney made up the six.

From here, I felt the need to take another week off as the hamstring was pretty sore immediately afterwards. Another massage, a ton of eggs and more rest meant that I was able to run 14 miles in 100 minutes the following weekend. A trip to Rome was to follow. I didn’t pack my trainers as rather sadly I wore them on account of them being the smartest and most comfortable item of footwear in my large yet clearly very dismal collection! The trip was great, busy, hectic, I was able to get a few runs in but had to use the hotel treadmill twice due to the difficulty incurred in trekking through a busy city centre packed with pedestrians, tourists and vehicles. I found a park nearby but it wasn’t particularly big and I’d soon been round it what felt like a dozen times. On my return, I met up with Chris Tweed who by the time this article is published will hopefully be the latest member of Badgers to join the sub three marathon club. He has worked so hard and risen from relative obscurity time-wise to the cusp of the holy grail for club runners. We managed 17 miles together and I felt tired but good at the conclusion. I could have continued although I did not want to by then! When you reach your designated finish line it is incredibly tough to get yourself motivated for extra I find.

The next week should have seen me start to wind things down in terms of mileage and intensity off the back of a well-adhered to marathon training block. Given all the disruptions, I chose to try and build for successes later in the year and aimed for a 60 mile week including a 20 mile long run. Finding the time was hard with other commitments in life. I ran to and from a Badgers committee meeting on my “rest” day then had to squeeze in two double run days and a triple to get the miles in, leaving 20 for the grand finale. I was looking forward to this as it would give me a good guide as to what I could (or could not as it turned out!) be capable of going into the marathon. I put on my best shoes so as to break them back in after months on the shelf and set off alone late in the morning. I wanted to try a faster pace than the week before. I had planned to run with company, then I needed to shift to the afternoon, then back to the morning again as my parents kindly helped out with childcare. As a consequence I was setting off on a half empty stomach which I am hoping explains the disaster that was about to unfold.

It all began so well, with an Alphafly spring in my steps, I punched out sub seven mile after sub seven. Fourteen of them in total and I was counting down what we had left. I was also feeling thirsty and peckish and part way down Wellsborough Road, I knew I was starting to tire. I stopped for a wee which was really an excuse for a stop truth be told. I battled on and wasn’t losing big chunks of pace despite trying to conserve my energy at this point. Heading through Sheepy Parva, I began looking for outside taps on the front of houses, to no avail and as I ran past Neil’s parents house in Sheepy Magna, I had the opportunity to ask for glass of water as Brian was evidently mowing the lawn somewhere. Stubbornly, and stupidly, I battled on, knowing that was probably my last chance. I was nearing home although my route back would leave me needing to manipulate an extra mile at the end to make the distance up, a tricky thing mentally when you just want to be done and you can see the finish as it were.

I stopped again along Pinwall Lane, this time to take a photo of some flytipping, then again at the end of the road to see if Ray’s old house by the garage, now vacant, had an outside tap. It didn’t and even if it did, the water system would likely have been drained down and the mains turned off so it would have been pointless. Again, another excuse for a rest. The run was going badly. I made it into Old Holly Lane and on seeing the sight of the hill ahead, stopped again. I put my head on a farm gate, looked up and felt dizzy. I stopped the watch for good and called it over. I made my way walking slowly to the top of the hill to contemplate the situation and sat in the grass looking at Facebook and Strava for about 15 minutes. Louise had tracked me and called me as she saw I had stopped. I said I was ok, which I felt I was at the time, and began a sloth-like trundle home to notch up another mile that meant I had at least achieved the goal of 60 miles for the week, all at sub seven average. Upon getting home, I was ravenous for milkshake and necked a couple of pints straight away, topped up with some leftover pizza and two ice creams! I had a sit down shower and felt awful. We went to visit family in Bulkington and I thought I was going to be sick all the way there. I fell asleep on the sofa for two hours but felt better for it.

The run was meant to build confidence but like so many of my runs in 2023, it failed to meet the aim in that regard. I’m hoping that the nutrition factor played a big role in proceedings but don’t want to use that as too much of an excuse because I was doing the exact same runs 12 months earlier with no fueling on the route, just a better breakfast, eaten closer to the commencement of the run. With two weeks to go, I originally planned to keep up the mileage and treat the marathon as an extra long training run. This too hasn’t happened due to ongoing fatigue from the weekend and a sense of respect for the distance that lies ahead. Fully fit and trained, a marathon at a comfortable pace is straightforward. I have paced a couple before and used them as training runs. The difference here is that I have simply not had the chance to do the necessary work to get me into that shape. I’m fit, just not marathon fit. There’s still the chance to defer but I really don’t want to. I accept I will have to run slower if I want to complete the course and do so without having to stop and walk. There are half marathons to race on each of the following weekends, firstly at Uttoxeter for Tamworth AC, then at Bosworth for Badgers, so it could be a full on period when I’m not ready for it. It may be that I give Uttoxeter a miss, I finished 6th there last year but it’s a really demanding energy sapping course. I’ve not entered yet just because I want to see how my body feels after the marathon. Old and achy I suspect!

This week, I took the long route at Badgers social run. We have a long and a short option. 30 people turned up and 29 of them opted for the short route. I ran alone. Again! Today, I was in race action for only the fourth time in 2023, this time for Tamworth AC in the Burton District Summer League opener at Conkers, the Run In The Forest 5 mile race. It’s basically Conkers parkrun with a few extra bits so while the course was strewn with puddles, there was reasonable grip for an off road race as well as a couple of nasty short climbs, although about a third of the way in I did have to wonder why the title “Run In The Forest” as all I’d really experienced was a lap of the car park and a trek along a narrow pathway by a busy main road! It soon became a bit more arboreal. The top three went romping away into the distance soon after the race began and I was tucked in behind a home club SDRR runner along the road. I sensed there was traffic behind me but felt good early on, despite feeling distinctly less than good at home prior to setting off, and overtook to move into fourth spot. From here, I hoped to establish a gap. I’d have been happy with a top ten finish and having never run a lot of the course, aimed for a sub 30 time. I also targeted being a points scorer for the team but upon seeing a number of big hitters absent, this seemed the easiest goal to achieve.

For the first time on any run in 2023, I managed to hit every target I set myself prior. Almost every run I do has a purpose or goal. I stayed in fourth to the finish, miles off the podium in terms of time but confident of picking up age group prize money as the top three are usually precluded from winning two prizes, plus they all looked youngish! I could hear from the timings of the encouragement of the marshals that the runner behind me was some way back so I was able to navigate the final half mile in relative comfort rather than be eyeballs out battling for every second. My time was 29:28. It was a big confidence booster for me individually although the team had to settle for third on the day, despite the fact that with Ash Baldwin running a brilliant 27 minutes in second spot and me two places behind meant we had 50% of the top four.

One week now until London. I know what I can and cannot do so must run sensibly if I want to get round without stopping. Footnote – Chris Tweed achieved his sub three dream today which was truly great news, not least for him!

Rome Collosseum

Destroyed after a bruising 18.5 miles

Kibworth 6 downhill

Kibworth uphill towards the finish. I caught the guy in green.

Kibworth 6 looking pained!

Badgers at Kibworth

Solo “Social Run”!

Nice night for pics

Spring lambs

Approaching God’s village (according to Damo)

Baxterley

RITF 5

T-shirt and gloves weather

Prize for being old!

Ready, steady, GO!

Tamworth AC team 2023

Moving the goalposts

Any feint hope of a decent time at the London marathon in April went in a flash part way up Morris Hill in Polesworth last Tuesday night. Having already lost approximately five very important weeks of training, there was yet more to come as a torn hamstring put paid to any ambitions of success at London. I was more annoyed than anything else, an injury that was completely avoidable and almost predictable given the circumstances in which it happened and I only had myself to blame. Usually on a Tuesday my wife Louise does karate so I don’t get the opportunity to train with my club, Badgers. This particular week, karate was cancelled so I had a free pass to train. Having missed these get-togethers, I jumped at the opportunity to go but looking at the session, it was far from ideal – hill sprints in Polesworth. There’s nothing wrong with the session but for me it is a recipe for disaster. I like sprinting. For my age, I’m quite good at it, but I’m nowhere near as quick as I was 25 years ago.

The dangers of going included an increased risk of injury doing something relatively new and explosive in my training. 75% of the time being fairly still in the cold before going again was likely to increase the risk of injury and an insufficient warm up too. I probably need a good two to three miles under my belt, when instead I managed a pedestrian one. This isn’t a criticism of the run-leaders, they have to devise a session that suits a range of abilities and they did it spot on. For me, I know what I need to do to optimise my training and I got cocky and, ultimately, injured. I felt the hamstring go on one of the last few reps. It wasn’t as though I’d been shot, more like punched meaningfully, but I knew exactly what I’d done even though I’ve never had the injury before. I stopped immediately and tried rubbing it better.

I was due for a sports massage the following day anyway and it was there that I had it confirmed that I would likely miss the next two to three weeks. No good for that weekend’s cross country league title decider, a doubt for the next LRRL race at Kibworth, but probably alright for the marathon although the distinct lack of training might otherwise hold me back! More missed weeks and those weeks I have put together have been off a standing start so no chance to build a base, gain momentum and so on. I look at some of my peers’ training and it has been outstanding. Dave Hill particularly, non stop hard work, 10% max uplift on weekly mileage. It’s easy to see why he is running the times he is in races right now, a shining example of what good training looks like.

At the start of the month, I enjoyed a week’s skiing with my Dad (I was a late replacement for my Mum) and I made the most of the opportunity to cash in on seemingly perfect ski conditions all week. The plan was, assuming I could stay well, something which had itself been a battle throughout January, to ski through to around three then return to the hotel and do an easy hour afterwards. The sun was shining, the roads were clear but the paths were icy and slippy which limited where you could operate. Also, it was perishingly cold and not nearly as enjoyable as it may have been plus I was overtired from skiing excessively. Consequently, I managed less than half of my daily goal but the skiing no doubt gave me a decent workout. I even ventured into the hotel gym for a few goes on the treadmill but I find them so insufferably boring, I gave up quite quickly. I ate well all week and ended up putting on weight! Never mind, I had a great break. It was nice to spend time with my dad, himself still skiing at almost 75, although I did miss my family back home.

I’ve not really had the opportunity to race. My first real chance came at the Stilton 7 Leicestershire League race at the end of February. I had no real expectation as I’d not run at a sustained pace of any note since New Years Day and that was only three miles not seven. It was cold with a biting wind. For the first mile I actually felt cold, a sensation I rarely get mid-race given the speed you are travelling at. Our team looked incredibly strong and proved to be so as we won comfortably. I felt that for the first time ever, I would be out of the scorers despite trying my very best. I didn’t score at Desford a few years ago when I started at the very back and eased my way through the field by means of a tentative injury comeback so I’m not sure if I’d count that occasion. It’s harder to score now as the league changed the rules from eight counters to the first six, plus I’m getting older too and probably beyond my peak!

I very much ran to feel. A PB was out of the question and I wasn’t sure what sort of speed endurance I’d have but ultimately I wasn’t worried, more curious. A few moments before the start, I checked what the club standard time was that I’d need to secure a top grade and it was 43 minutes something which I felt would be well within my capability, even if rusty. As it turned out, the five team mates who I guessed who be ahead of me ran off into the distance, Matt, Dave and Ash all making the top ten with in form Danny and Ryan just outside. I ran most of the race with Dave McGowan. Mark Cox joined us for a bit early on but he didn’t seem to be moving quite as well as he did last summer and dropped back a shade, not far but enough. Dave and I were either side by side or no more than ten metres ahead of one another the whole way round. He’s back on the up again now, still short of his best mind as fully fit and firing, I’d confidently expect him to beat me. We didn’t say much, probably because we were both out of breath, but we did grunt a few words of encouragement to each other towards the last mile. We got to the halfway mark together and while Simon Mayes picked us off and established a small gap, he was still within sight as we made the final corner into the home stretch of around 150 metres. It was at this point I threw everything to get to the line first, conscious that other runners behind me would likely be sprinting home too. Thankfully, nobody came charging past us. I pipped Dave by three seconds (41:11), around a minute off my course best when I finished fourth in 2019, but I was never going to reel Simon in. I’d probably gone too early and the last few strides were on jelly legs gasping for air. I spent a few minutes composing myself at the line to the point where I looked up and something like our twelfth runner was now coming through! At least I knew I’d left everything out there, my finish position was 17th, third vet and second in my age category behind French international athlete Ludovic Renou.

The buzz of a good race lasted the day although I felt I missed out on the chat and banter post race. My family were spectating in the cold and understandably wanted to be back in the warm once I was over the line so we had to disappear fairly sharpish. The goal now the marathon is not happening is to run the marathon anyway and use it as a training outing so I can compete better in the races immediately after it, which is in some ways preferable to being doubled up with what feels like rigor mortis for the three weeks immediately afterwards as I was when I ran 2:46 at Manchester last year! I may still defer, I have until the night before to decide, but as we have committed to going with travel and accommodation paid for, plus I’d be a jealous spectator, so might as well enjoy the atmosphere and use the opportunity to bank an extra long Sunday Long Run. It would mean no Good For Age time, I’d need to re-qualify if I wanted in again next year and there’s no guarantee I could defer and be uninjured the following year. I remember someone else doing that and never having the opportunity again as form declined and old age set in.

With no hope of being able to take part and having failed to do so all season, the least I could do was turn up at the nearby Bosworth XC to support the team in their quest to defend their title. Rory and I offered words of support and encouragement to all but ultimately the team fell short and ended up second. Had I been running, we would still have been second which was something of a relief in that I would have blamed myself more than I already did for getting injured in the week leading up to it. We were probably two fast runners shy of a league winning outfit on the day given what we were up against. Fair play to Poplar, who deserved to win it and frankly, should never have allowed us to make it close with one race to go.

Pirchmoos down in the Tirol

In the bar with my Dad

On the piste near Rigi

Rare gym visit – had the place to myself

Stilton 7 – 41:11. The best I had in me so very pleased with the outcome.

Start of the Bosworth XC

Cheering the team on with Badgers Supporter of the Year 2021

January 2023 – terrible

This will probably be the worst blog post ever so I’ll try and keep it succinct before I either turn in, have a hot bath or watch the FA Cup on the television. January is over and I can safely say things have not gone to plan. I have been able to run parts of the month which I guess is an improvement on the same month of 2021, when we were in a national lockdown, but all in all it has been a terrible month. I just seem to have been ill for the entire time. You may have guessed I am feeling extremely sorry for myself right now, as I said earlier, I’ll try and keep it short as no-one likes listening to or reading some old codger moaning. In light of this, please feel free to PM me, huns!

New Year’s Day kind of set the tone. I travelled to Kingsbury Water Park to have a go at parkrun only to fall short by two seconds of another NYD victory. The guy who beat me the day before at Bosworth (Matt Pleass of Ivanhoe) did it again. At Bosworth I lacked the motivation to overtake as I wasn’t finishing first. Here, I was keen to take first place but foolishly I opted to run in my favourite and well worn road training shoes. I had plenty left in the tank but the truth was I just couldn’t get any traction underfoot such was the nature of the wet course. The shoes have 1,200 miles on the clock and should have been retired months ago to be honest. The time was pretty mediocre – that was expected given the slippy paths but it wasn’t the start to the year I wanted. That would turn out to be my only race all month. I picked up a virus soon after which ruled me out of running of any kind for the best part of two weeks. Happy birthday to me in amongst that. I postponed my birthday meal at the pub for when I was feeling better and spent the following day on the toilet. Thanks Blue Lion!

I felt clunky and creaky so booked in for a sports massage which I had to move twice on account of a) not running at all and b) being plagued by a nasty cough. Over the period, I tested six times for Covid, all negative. When I did get back out again, I was somewhat rusty. I pulled out of the Wrexham half, scheduled for early February. I wouldn’t be ready to run a fast time so it seemed a long way to go to run something like an 82 minute half – I might as well do that near home in training, especially as I would be returning from a week’s skiing the day before, so some catching up at home would be far more beneficial.

I missed the Ravenstone XC for Badgers and the Starlight Relays. Luckily, Danny, Dave and Ryan won the relay series but the XC was a different matter. Had I been able to run, I reckon we’d have finished top team. As it stands we have a mountain to climb now if we want to win the league and our fate is out of our hands. I was in no condition to run so it doesn’t really make any difference. Seeing my mates dedicating themselves so well to their marathon training is both satisfying and frustrating in equal measure. You cannot help take pride in how well Dave (Hill), Ryan (Preece) and Chris (Tweed) especially have got stuck in during the month, doing exactly what I would want to have been doing and it is showing now in their performances. I can’t wait to see what they can achieve come the spring.

With my virus almost behind me, I managed to cobble together a half decent training week, culminating in a 15 mile run home from Grandparents in Bulkington. I didn’t feel ready for a fast 5K at parkrun so brought my Sunday long run forward by a day. It was my longest run since mid August. I managed it without issue, despite a cold and plenty of turbulence in the intestines and felt pleased with the average pace of 6:44 per mile, stopping only for a short wee stop in Higham. I picked up the effort on the final mile for no difference in pace which suggests I was starting to tire but I didn’t feel anywhere near as fatigued as I might have done which was another positive sign. The following day, I fell ill again, coughing non-stop, nose running like a tap, sneezing and so on. I’ve had enough now. If things don’t improve, I’ll defer my London marathon place. I’m not going there to be ordinary. Roll on February.