I think the secret to feeling like you are getting better at XC is to just HTFU, get stuck in and do it consistently. It is my aim to run ALL the fixtures this year + the championship races. Go through the pain and the feeling rubbish, and emerge the other side a few fixtures later feeling stronger. The Leamington XC mentioned in the last blog felt like it had taken a bit out of my legs. I don't have very often have leg aches these days but I had a bit of delayed soreness from this one. Not really sure why, having notched up Winsford, the XC relays and Park Hall before it.
So we've had some more XC fixtures, the next up being the fairly uninspiring Stafford Common. It is a course we usually have to run 2, if not 3 times a year, but this was not the reason it gave me nightmares. By the Wednesday before the Saturday we had 2 confirmed runners, needing 4 to finish a team. Quite pathetic for a club of our size really. It wasn't for lack of trying on my part. In fact I think my epitaph should probably be "She really tried". In the end we had a lot of people step up, including 4 runners who had never done XC before, 10 out in total which was great.
In convincing these people, I had explained how Stafford Common was one of the faster, more runnable courses. This is true - the ground is usually quite easy going, and the hills are drags rather than massive undulations. However, I hadn't factored in a fortnight of heavy rain and the fact there are junior races going on all morning, so we got there and found the warm up jog was a bit waterlogged and the course cut up by other peoples spikes. The ladies race started, and then I realised just how waterlogged the whole place was. The first drag up and down was OK this descended in to mud. Not too bad, but then a few mins later the large sticky bit of mud known as "the ditch" proved why it is so notorious. I picked what I thought was a solid bit of mud, and my right leg sank in up to my knee. I felt my shoe coming off as I pulled up my leg, but thankfully it stayed put on my foot.
 |
| I think the ditch was about knee high..... |
The climb up the back of the loop was pretty slippery as was the descent back down again, but you just kind of get on with it. I think I am good at just tanking through the mud. If you dither about and get too hung up on it you will lose time, yes pick a sensible path, but once committed just go through it - it is quicker. It had dawned on my during part of the first and most of the second lap I was ahead of people I'm usually with. I overtook a woman who had pipped me on the line at Park Hall on the 2nd lap, and intended it to stay that way. I'm pleased to say it did.
So I actually got back in time to see the men start, some of the newbies wondered what they were getting in to seeing the state of our legs. It was great to see all the normal suspects, these people are the backbone of the team, but I did enjoy seeing the new folk enjoying themselves, smiling, high fiving and aeroplaning in to the finish. Two of the newbies didn't make it to the end, pulling out with injury but at least they gave it a go in the first place. I went and stood by the ditch on my warm down with a camera, so here is an example of the shoe eater of doom that we had to contend with:
 |
| He's not praying..... |
So on to Conwy - the tale from Wales
The day after Stafford Common, I went and did the Conwy Half in Wales with my friend S. She has done a lot of Half Marathons this year, and I went with her for this one. I like races in Wales. The scenery, the atmosphere and the fact that mostly they are civilized in their start time. This one commenced at 12.00. She picked me up, we had a lovely drive there on a crisp sunny morning, plenty of time to find a McDonalds (not my cup of tea but they have decent toilets and do hot drinks). We got there in plenty of time, picked up our numbers and other assorted goodies. Conwy seems lovely, and it brought back happy memories of the Welsh Castles Relay as the start and finish was by the castle. We also had time to mosey around the town and do a bit of sightseeing, yes I took loads of photos.
 |
| Tourist alert! |
It was so warm and sunny at 11.30, I was persuaded to wear short vest sleeves in November which is a first - after a bit of standing around we started off running by the castle to the sounds of Gangam style (if there was ever an incentive to speed up and get a move on this was it). The course goes over the bridge and around the quayside and some paths that have so much sand blown on to them it is almost like running on a beach. You then go in to the town of Llandudno, with its victorian style coloured houses and pier. At about 5 miles, you start to climb, and this is the start of the Great Orme. People had been trying to describe it, it sounded pretty horrible but in reality it wasn't that bad, and I figured before we got there after some of the 4 marathons hills in Donegal nothing could break me; I was right, it was a mere pimple in the scale of hills, that's not to say I would want to be trying to go up it at my actual half marathon pace though. Fear the worst and you will always be pleasantly surprised!! The up climb lasted for about 2.5 miles, and as we got to the top we saw proper mountain goats with massive curly horns - the big alpha male was standing on top of a rock looking down at all of us as the other little goats were all running about on the rocks. We then started the run down the other side which was nice, ending up back near Llandudno and going back in on the part of the course round the quay we had started on. It was a lovely relaxed easy run, and we still managed to beat the man in the panda suit. I have not been able to get this out of my head since, please don't psychoanalyze me!
Because we entered late, there weren't any medals for us, but that's not what its all about is it. We hit the road pretty soon, and about half way home the hunger struck. S has a weird Satnav in her BMW, which meant the only place I could program before we ate our own arms off was some Little Chef in Whitchurch. Praise be to the gods of junk food, it turned out the Little Chef had closed, and was now a proper sit down fish and chip restaurant. OH YEAH!!! It hit the spot, and 2 meals with multiple soft drinks and tea £17. Not bad at all.
 |
| Food of champions |
The week after this, there was no club XC but a local XC race, the Suicide Six. I live near Baggeridge Country park, so with a rucksack heavy with dry clothes and rocky road on my back, I ran the 2.5 miles to get there as a warm up. Remind me not to put on any weight, it definitely made a difference with an extra stones worth of rubbish on my back. I got there, chucked my stuff in my friends car and got changed. Saw I from the club who was the race official, who told us that with all the rain, the "water feature" (the bit I'd been quite looking forward to) had been taken out of the course due to health and safety (we would have drowned / got swept away). I wasn't racing this one, I saw little point - mainly because there would be about 700 runners = congested course, and with the rain the terrain would be pretty hard going. I was right on both counts. People were falling over from the start. We ran up to the trig point, back down and turned in to what can only be described as a load of clay, que more falling over and shoe loss. There were quite a few points where the course narrowed and everything ground to a halt, and despite my relaxed attitude to this one, I did get slightly frustrated and I should have had the confidence to start a bit further forward. The Suicide Six has a sting in the tail, a set of 100+ steps towards the end. I thought my legs were OK but after that and seeing my club mates at the top of the stairs all I could manage was a cheery set of expletives before smelling the finish and haring along overtaking people on the last bit. A most enjoyable experience.
So lastly I come to Burbage Common XC - the cautionary tale
We got there later than I would like, and being mens captain I went to get the mens and ladies numbers. Got the ladies, was told the men's numbers would not be available for another 40 mins. It was 1.10pm, we raced at 1.30pm and the men ran at 2.30. I could not physically get the numbers before I ran. I had to get back over to the start, wrote down our list of runners whilst taking my trousers off and putting Vaseline on my feet! ...and instructed the only man that was there to go back and get the numbers in a few mins when they were available.
I had a cracking run, very consistently paced splits over the 4.2 miles of semi-frozen boggy slop. I felt very strong, and again I had been waiting around at the finish for a good 3 mins before seeing ladies from other clubs I used to come in around the same time as. I'm definitely improving my XC pace, which hopefully means when I do a road 5K or similar I will fly.
I was finished by 2.10 and panicked about sorting out the f**king mess of getting the numbers. The men went off on time, thankfully with the things pinned to to their vests and I was left holding a pile of shite and jumpers because we had no club tent. One of the blokes forgot his vest so I had to take mine off for him to wear(!!) So I didn't warm down and was minus a layer.
I was collecting the finish discs, and after our man #6 out of #10 had come in, I started to shake almost uncontrollably, and developed the worlds worst stammer. I literally could not speak. The guys said it was like someone had shot me with a tranquilizer dart I just slowed down. I could feel this happening but couldn't do anything or get people to understand me which scared me so I started to cry which made me look even more of a weirdo. They tried to get me in to the cafe which was shut, no one could find Z who I came with as she was changing little P, they got the keys to her car and by that time I didn't really know what was going on, next thing I was in the car with the heaters full on and people telling me to put all my jumpers on. I decided I'd lost my phone, and even though I sort of knew it was in the glove box, it upset me I didn't have it and I was sobbing like a lunatic. That evening I googled mild hypothermia. Hmm. 20 mins of extreme car heater and being given fruit cake (feels apt given my bizarre mental state at the time) I felt better. I just thought being my frame / build (e.g. too much body fat) the cold wouldn't effect me. Thank god I wasn't driving or on my own. I'm NEVER getting in to that situation again.
 |
| Enough said |
No comments:
Post a Comment