Sweet Home Wolverhampton...

A bit of a self indulgent blog, and not entirely about running. Possibly the old taper madness kicking in, but bear with, bear with...

The Wednesday after my seaside weekend I got another cold. A snotty sneezy one with a lovely husky voice  but not as bad as the one I had after the Cambridge Half. Still annoying though, and combined with the windy conditions we've had it has made all my running feel pretty shit - I've felt like a knackered old carthorse. Shoot me now. My brain says it should be feeling easier and it has not been. However my heart rate shows no difference really so in physiological terms I guess I'm OK. It's just in my head.

I've started to feel a bit down. I can't help it. Why is this? I can see how lucky I am.

I've had a few people at work recently take me to one side and mutter things like "don't let it all bother you". I have felt a bit stressed but have no idea what it is looking like outwardly to other people - they can obviously tell a difference. We have had a lot of stuff going on over the past few weeks (including my team being purchased by another company, so TUPE etc) I don't really want to talk about work in detail here - you never know who is reading, I don't have any axe to grind to be honest. I feel a bit on edge but in my eyes I'm not acting differently?! So dear reader, if you feel the need put a comment on this blog as to how you percieve me as a person in 3 words or something because I'm starting to wonder if I have a clue how I appear outwardly to other people in work as well as general life. Scary huh?

Some would say it's only work but I'm made differently. I can't stand not being able to do the best job I can possibly do, weather that is down to my own inadequacies (in which case mental self beatings) or someone else's fuckuppage - if someone else is the problem I'm consumed by inner annoyance that I'm usually too much of a pansy to have a go about. I am a I.T. technical geek (my purse is made out of recycled circuit boards 8-) ) and I like what I do, but at the moment what I'm doing isn't really challenging me. I wouldn't say I'm bored but it's getting that way. I also feel like I'm viewed as some sort of monkey only good for doing monkey work, and everyone seems to have forgotten where my skills actually are, one of these is being able to pick things up pretty quickly and apply them which I think is fairly rare - what a waste. I am torn in my feelings because for all its faults I actually quite like where I'm working at the moment and when they day comes I have to go - which will probably be soon, I will be really quite upset. I am actually scared of having to work from home again, I think I'd end up going doolally.

It's a good job home workers don't have webcams on teleconferences

My days consist of this work, and my evenings consist of sitting in a hotel room working. Of course I'm getting paid for this, I'm not STUPID(!) and no one is forcing me but it is tedious, there is more to life and I feel like I'm missing out somehow. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, and therefore not sure how to change it. Get out of current contract, find interesting work, spend time at home and consider what I want to do? Maybe one day I'd consider doing an Ironman - I'd have to be home based to train. I'd quite like to do a course in sports massage, and bootcamp with my pals, all of which require me being at home really. Gosh it sounds like a mid life crisis brewing doesn't it. Before you know it I'll have pink hair and a Ferrari.

Talking of being at home, ah... home sweet home. I have lived in my current place for 5 years. I own a house that I used to live in years ago over the other side of Birmingham, but for various reasons I feel this is not my "home" any more and I want to keep it as an investment rather than live in it so I have tenants that an Estate Agent manages for me. So I reside in my posh flat in Wolverhampton that I rent myself whilst my own tenants cover my actual mortgage. I love the place I'm living in. It is convenient for all aspects of my life at the moment, and I feel safe, secure and calm when I'm at home. The problem with renting however is you are sometimes at the mercy of other peoples cock ups, and this time last year the company I rented off folded, they took out too many mortgages at a time the banks would lend to anyone. So recession presumably equals non payment on their part, prompting all kinds of "YOU WILL BE EVICTED" letters in my postbox from the Court and Bank. I came to an arrangement with the receivers in April 2012 that they became my landlord and it was all happy happy happy for a year with a small black cloud hanging over in the back of my mind. I knew it couldn't go on for ever. I'm surprised I've been so strong about it. At times I've felt like I've been crumbling a bit but pulled it back. I know I'm not on the streets but this place means a lot to me.

So I got home Wednesday night to find a letter with some all too familiar franking and found myself muttering "shit shit shit" out loud whilst opening it with slightly trembling hands. It was what I'd been expecting for a year, and I've got to be out by the middle of June. At least I've had a reasonable amount of notice, and I'm quite a minimalist person with furniture and nik-naks but I've been making a conscious effort to not collect clutter since last years indicator of the issues. Seeing a date for leaving in black and white upset me though, and caused me not to be able to sleep on Weds night. If you're awake at 2 am you might as well have a look on Rightmove, right? There are almost 30 apartments where I live and it turns out two of them are empty and currently on the rental market. I managed to get viewings yesterday, one flat was tatty decor wise, one was really nice so I've moved quickly and I managed to get the nice one I wanted. So I'm moving literally across a courtyard. Weird but true. At some point I will leave for good, it's not where I envisage spending the rest of my life, but I want to take my time choosing a house to buy and "properly" settle down in.

At least my moving costs will be minimal, and having lived here for 5 years I know it's safe / quiet etc. But its un-nerving and it's another stress I don't need really. Can't help being a worrier.

However, on a positive note, all this is distracting me from thoughts of the Manchester Marathon, which is possibly a good thing! I'm hoping with a relaxing week next week I will be peaking in time to go for that sub 4 at Manchester. I'm running better than last year, I'm up for it and the weather can't possibly be as bad as last year. Can it? Well if it all goes tits up it's ok, I'm sure I will enjoy it whatever. I have worked out all the scenarios and plans in my head. What can possibly go wrong?!?!

Sleet, Fancy cakes, Sunshine and I do like to be beside the seaside....

Well I won't bang on about it, but after the Rhayader / Ashby weekend I went through a prolonged period of snotting, coughing and losing my voice. I guess my upper chest being covered in snow for 7 miles, 3h26m of breathing in and out cold air on both days didn't aid my recovery. Would have been nice to have had someone bringing me chicken soup, trashy magazines and re filling my hot water bottle with well timed sympathetic "aaahs" but instead I trudged up and down the M5 to work as normal and took to swigging at a bottle of #CO-VO-NIA!# from my desk.

Despite having been able to train as it was all above the neck, in my head I felt like I'd lost fitness - in reality I don't think this was true, I had not missed any runs and sensibly backed off a bit on run pace where necessary but it was all feeling a little bit tougher because of fighting the lurgi. My legs were OK after the double 20 weekend and Wednesdays hill session I surprised myself by having a better one than I thought I would despite reverting back to croaky afterwards.

*cough* *cough* *cough* *cough* SHUT UP!!!!!!

So the next weekend I was up in Cambridge to see my parents, also to run the Oakley 20. I had a great run there last year and actually got s bit of a tan. Well - on the Friday morning before Oakley weekend in 2013, "snowmageddon" had hit the Midlands as predicted; thankfully I got up and out to Bristol at a ridiculous hour before the morons hit the roads so it was a relatively stress free journey. South of Birmingham / North Worcester there was no snow at all, and in the evening I trekked along the M4 / M25 / A1M from Bristol to Cambridge. It was snow free on the ground but I had a horrible dark sleet blowing at the windscreen experience. Yuk.

I opened the curtains in Cambridge early on Saturday morning with a view to going to the Wimpole ParkRun for a bit of XC effort. However a blizzard was coming down heavily, I assumed they would cancel so went back to bed. When I surfaced at about 10.00am and checked - it was on. Gah!!! Oops. I'm not obsessive, but do I appreciate the benefits of my ParkRuns as a weekend speed session, so if I miss something like this I do try and make it up somehow later in the day. In this case there was no other way. A WU, a solo 5K effort at 5K pace and a WD.

Now I don't usually really care what the weather is, I will go out regardless. There is something quite nice about running in the rain in summer, overheating, the heavens opening and getting soaked to the skin with rain dripping off of your nose and off of the ends of your fingers, let's cut that romantic vision back to a "spring" day in March. This speed work session was horrific. I love my running but it was really soul destroying. The sky was grey, light snow was blowing in to my eyes, the wind was so fierce and bitter it was stinging my face to the point where it was quite painful. I managed a good pace but again it felt too hard. I went back to my parents and brooded over how shit I felt for the rest of the afternoon. Still, there had been no snow forecast for Oakley so that would be good. Ooooh a text. For meeee?!?! Oakley cancelled. Flippin' brilliant. I feel sorry for race directors when this sort of thing happens, it is a hard task organising a race and despite it being a total act of god, all people seem to do is moan about the cancellation and start fishing for refunds when it is just one of those things.

The next morning, we'd had a snow scattering in Cambridge. A photo appeared of the race HQ at Oakely - quite thick snow, significantly more than we had. I decided to make the most of the relatively good conditions in Cambridge and get on with it, at Oakley I was supposed to inject some pace in the middle miles, but hey a slow 20 is better than no 20. In the end, the paths were so good, I gave it a crack and managed to do what I was supposed to do. If you don't give it a go you'll never know.

The following week was still freezing, but I managed to crank out a monster speed work session, 12 x 0.33 mile reps with a relatively short amount of recovery. I've been doing these sessions for a long time, but I felt like I was flying that evening. I run the reps in these sessions just using the force, and all the reps were within about 3 seconds of each other, no drop off in pace at the end, so consistent. It gave me a boost to know my speed endurance is coming along well. I had to smile every time I whizzed past a solitary snowman that was still standing tall in the middle of relatively dry pavements on the estate we do our interval loops on. There are still large patches of snow on the fields even now.

Snow causes chaos yet again...

This brings us to the Easter weekend, and I was supposed to do the Maidenhead Easter 10. A duff car battery put pay to that. I can't say I was 'pleased' but I didn't really feel as up for it as I did for say, the Cambridge half so I think it's fair to say I was less annoyed than I could have been. I shifted my training around and did an easy run after getting things sorted, then off to Cambridge again. Having been in Cambridge quite a few weekends recently, the thought 22 miles round the same places didn't fill me with joy. Luckily on searching I found a trail race that looked interesting. 16 miles from Ely to Cambridge, meeting on the Common, get bussed to Ely and then run back along the river path. However with an imminent off road training run I decided to be sensible Saturday and do a nice tarmac parkrun and had my first visit to Bedford.

I think I was feeling a bit tired from the mid week speed work session, but I gave Bedford a good go. There were so many chattering people at the race briefing, I heard the lady go "blah blah bandstand blah blah finish" - ok I had it sorted in my head. I set off, feeling ok, pretty much steadily overtaking. After a couple of laps, I was convinced the next time at the Bandstand was the end, so I kicked a bit. It didn't feel quite right though and people appeared to be still going round. I usually run 5Ks again using the force, and glancing at my garmin I'd only done 2.5 miles. So I'd quite severely misjudged it. I managed to hang on for 24.49. I know parkrun is free and I do appreciate everyone involved in the running of these events but I'm positive my time was 2 places out - it was too big a margin - 11 sec - out and I did start my watch on the gun. I emailed the mailbox but not even a reply to say "actually we think we are correct". Oh well. It's a good course and I will definitely be back. Before and after the run I bumped in to C and A who showed me one of the best kept secrets in Bedford (I worked in Bedford for almost 2 years and I never found it). It was lovely to catch up with them and in the most amazing cake shop ever. I just stood open mouthed a the selection on display, like a kid in a... cake shop!

*drool*

In the end I went for the Neapolitan style sponge with the pink and white icing in the middle. It must have been about 20 cm tall! Yeah!!! :-D

Easter Sunday the eggs had to wait. The clocks had gone back, so *yawn* I was waiting for the race bus at 7.45 which was actually 6.45. Got on, dozed off for half an hour. Yes I am a finely tuned athlete poised like a coiled spring to leap in to action. The route started near Ely station, and follows the "Fen Rivers Way" back to Cambridge. The section between Waterbeach and Cambridge I know very well, the Ely to Waterbeach section not so much but the race briefing consisted of "keep the river on your left till you get to the Green Dragon pub in Cambridge, then keep it on your right, and follow the footpath signs with the Eel on" Okey dokey then. For off road it wasn't too bad. As it had been dry I decided to risk road shoes, especially as I was going to be doing 22 in total, and apart from some muddy / knobbly bits there was nothing very technical. Most of it was running on fairly flat grass. The landscape was flat, you cold see for miles the dark black soil and plastic crop covers. A food table at 10 miles was welcome, with Bananas, sweets and cups of coke / water. After this I knew where I was and the last 6 miles in were a breeze. On the line I got given a medal which I was fairly underwhelmed by, however I was overjoyed by the creme egg, and off I trotted around the backs and Newnham in the (very cold) sunshine. Happy days.

Last week was our club's handicap race, in memory of a gentleman who used to be on the running club committee, club Treasurer in fact. I decided not to run this year, I am rubbish at racing on dimly lit routes in the evening, and this close to Manchester I didn't want to risk face planting on a tree root so I did a fairly hard speed work session in the day. It is interesting to see here what people put down as a recent 10K time (!!!), this is how we calculate the handicaps - the slower runners go off first, the faster runners last, and in theory if we have got everything right (and we've been given accurate times) all the runners should arrive back at the club at the same time. It was really nice to see some of our 36 minute 10K-ers and 1:26 minute 10K-ers in the same race, coming in close together, having fun and pretty much everyone sporting club kit.

Some of the mighty SRC

We have had a lot of new members recently, but new and old it still makes me proud to see a bunch of such happy runners nice people all together at the club enjoying their running.

So the weekend just gone I had to do my last 20. Rather than do the same old routes, S had mentioned she was doing the Bournemouth Half, so I asked if I could tag along. The intention was to run 7 miles beforehand, and then the half. 2 miles in to the half I would go in to "turbo mode" for 10 miles (Marathon pace) and jogging in home the last mile. I got a number in the Half and I got a room in the same Hotel.

It was all very civilised - I got picked up just before 3pm on Sat, and by 5.30 we were at the hotel. Turns out the hotel was a) 5 minutes from the station where another friend was coming in from, and b) 5 mins from the pier where the race started. There was an Italian (well... ASK) restaurant across the road where we had a really nice meal, and a Tesco Express the other side of the roundabout where we could stock up on goodies (by that I mean bananas / bagels) for immediate refuelling after the race. The hotel was very old fashioned with flowery bedspreads (all that was missing were those toilet roll covers that are shaped like ladies in ball gowns), but considering the usual clientele that was to be expected. They were very accommodating, and when we announced our diva demands of cereal at 07.30, and "could we have a checkout at 2pm so we can come back and have a shower please" they were really really good about it.

Guardian of the loo roll

So at about 8.30 I snuk off to do my 7 miles. I went along the cliff top road, going down on to the front for 3.5 miles then coming back. On the way back it was actually quite warm, so I ended up doing a detour and going back to the hotel, bumping in to S, taking half her clothes back, getting changed in 30 seconds in to some cooler attire myself. I jogged back down to the start, literally 5 mins hovering around and the gun went off. Perfect timing. The first 2 miles of the course are a little uphill, so I was glad of the starting slow plan, then I attempted to do Marathon Pace for another 10. I say attempted because it felt hard. It messed with my head a bit until I realised the wind coming off the sea was actually causing this false impression of effort. My MP efforts were all sub 9.00mm apart from one mile with a major hill, so I can't really complain, and hopefully this bodes well for less than 3 weeks time. I liked the course, despite the wind the seafront was nice and sunny, and then in the later miles we wound our way up on to the cliff roads and back down again. It started to feel like spring time.

At the finish I had a chap almost pass out in front of me. Slightly disappointed I had to argue with a marshal to get not one but TWO bottles of water how dare I (one for me one for him) but I got let off when he saw my "patient" leaning against the railings looking like he was going to vomit. Mr queezy seemed to perk up quite quickly thank goodness, I need to get myself on a first aid course or something because I didn't really know what to do, no one was rushing to help and I felt quite out of my depth if I'm honest. After a few mins of me telling him to take some deep breaths and sips of water, he convinced me he was OK and that he didn't want me to find or get anyone so off I went. He was very sweet and said thank you and also well done on the run. I didn't have the heart to tell him about the 7.5 mile WU but if I was on the deck I'd hope someone would check if I was OK so the thanks was appreciated.

I was glad to have a shower at the hotel, it was quite warm out there and 3 hours back in the car would have been a bit of a stinky experience. We had a somewhat slower drive back, stopping to get some drinks and also dining at the Little Chef on the A34 near Oxford. I'd clocked it on the way down, it looked like it had been refurbed. They are not really my scene, but by the look of things the menu is similar to what it has always been, with was some new / interesting and even vaguely healthy stuff on there, we were actually quite impressed. I felt my face glowing on the way home. I have a slight tan.

And there you have it, last 20 miler done for now. Taper time - let insanity commence.

Half PB and back to back 20 milers

It's been a busy few weeks.

A couple of weekends ago after getting back from Cornwall, I marshaled at the Inter-counties XC in Cofton Park, Birmingham. I was up at some ridiculous hour for a Saturday (and I thought park runs were early!). The Inter-counties is a major event for which runners have to qualify. The National XC held in Feb is different - anyone affiliated to a club can run, no disrespect to anyone I love running the National, but my mother could run if she was a UKA affiliated club member. To run in the Inter-counties you have to place quite highly in your County championships in January so it really is the best from the country, and the top few at the Inter-counties go off to the World XC. So the Stourbridge RC  "A Team" were out setting up the course from 7.30am, playing join the chalk dots with stakes and tape (must get the advertising on the inside so the cameras can see it) ironically the UKA is sponsored by the food of champions - chips!

Highlights of the day included:

• Seeing a water-bed like bit of ground bobble around with the weight of a grown man on it - this got cut out of the course - lightweights! 
• A freebie sausage and bacon roll breakfast
• Close ups of some cracking XC running
• A near cat fight at the front of the U17 ladies race. Meeow!
• A freebie packed lunch
• Seeing one of our SRC runners running for Worcestershire
• A nice fuzzy feeling from having given something back. I was that cold at times I could barely feel the fuzz, but it was there.

What do you mean you're cutting this bit out of the course?

After the senior men's race had finished I hot footed it to the car and made my way to Cambridge. At times at Cofton Park it was very cold and I spent the following 2 hours with the car heaters on full toasting myself which looking back I think may have not been the best thing for my health. I got to my parents and sat eating fish finger sandwiches for tea whist discussing the new additions they have made to their aquarium! Off to bed to rest up for the impending Cambridge Half.

The Sunday morning of the Cambridge Half sounded awful before I even got up. I looked out of the bedroom window to see a light covering of snow outside on the gardens, but this hadn't really settled at all on the actual roads and the sky looked grey, windy and sleety. I pushed some porridge around my breakfast bowl, and soon enough it was time to go. Cambridge seems to be the recycling centre of the world, my Mum and Dad have at least 3 different coloured bins and I was soon sporting this seasons little black number - a long wheelie bin liner. Off I toddled for a nice long 2 mile WU - believe me I needed it in that weather. I timed it well, I got in to the start pens before the crush, but not too long before so I wasn't standing around for ages thankfully. However the weather did its best and as we were all huddled waiting for the gun to go off there was a huge arctic blast that produced a collective yelp from the crowd. One slight criticism of the start pens - there was the "elite pen" sub 1.30 and then "1.30-2.00" pen. That seems to be a big variation for the second pen. Sure enough, as we got going, I turned a corner and came to a virtual halt behind the well known phenomenon of the gang of ladies wearing wings walking 3 abreast,  I think I shrieked a little "nooooo!" which I didn't manage to keep under my breath. Sorry.

I had a bit of a plan for Cambridge - I ran the Maidenhead Easter 10 last year at about 8.15s, and felt I could have gone on, so I decided to go out at 8.15 ish at Cambridge and see how I fared. I do a few parkruns and XCs as my "short distance" races but really it had been a whole year since I'd "raced" a half (Cambridge 2012!) and I hadn't done any specific training. These days racing 10K and 10 miles is few and far in between too. Anyway, despite the 'fairy' hold ups, I hit the first mile dead on 8.15 and there it stayed, some were a little quicker, some slower but nothing over 8.30 pace.  Cambridge is flat, but there are some gradients and twisty turny bits that bunch up the runners and require a bit of negotiating that slows you a little. I also kept double taking round the course, thinking I was seeing someone I knew - turns out it was an old teacher I had at 6th Form College, whom I saw at the end. Thank god for that, I thought I was hallucinating her! I had a slight downer when a man got very pissed off with me for accidentally squirting my Iconiq water pouch at him. Dearie me, there are bad things happening in the world and you're giving me "the look" when a) it was an accident and b) I said sorry and c) you're a bit wet already?!

I don't really have much else to say apart from I ran quite a well executed race, and despite the wind, sleet and rain I felt quite strong. As the time ticked by I didn't feel massively tired, although the last couple of miles I just wished it would stop 'effing blowing a gale in my face - all of my photos, and no I've not purchased them - show me gurning trying to see where I was going. As I came in to the finish, I knew it was a decent PB, although it was a bit hard to tell as there was no clock on the finish gantry. I crossed the line in 1:48:40 - about 3 mins off my previous best. I was a bit pissed off to find that in the results I am down as chip time 1:50 and gun time 1:51, and some ridiculous split for the 1st lap that would have meant I was running at 7:55 pace. I don't really care, I know what I did but the one time it really matters to me, there is a cock it up. Frustrating. Afterwards I was so wet and cold I didn't really want to hang around, so I did my 2 mile WD home and rifled through the goodie bag. Nice medal - check. Crisps - check. Cereal Bar - check. And... an individually wrapped prune. WTF!

One of these things is edible

My legs felt a little tired I could definitely feel I'd run a bit faster for a bit longer than a ParkRun(!) but a hot shower and I was right as rain (no pun intended).

Monday morning I woke up and the first thing I was aware of was that my throat felt like I'd swallowed razor blades. And my legs ached - in fact most of my body did. Looking back a weekend out in the cold, including the transition from the cold Cofton Park to the 40 degree Sahara heat of my car on the way to Cambridge was probably the kiss of death and my ear nose and throat and the germs must have had an orgy. OK, ok it's just a cold, and friends have had things much worse, but it was and still is slightly annoying - snottyness and a muzzy feeling that would not go away. As it was above the neck, I stuck to my training  during the week despite feeling a bit yuk, I have found that I feel better after a run (and it helps clear the snot out - tmi but it's a fact). The snot factory has kept on producing all week, a busy week and a late night at the Birmingham Leauge XC AGM on Friday listening to folks arguing about the definition of a Student - don't ask - meant I felt really tired. Not great but what can I do.

So this weekend was a big one. My two favourite 20 mile races on the same weekend, Rhayader 20 on Saturday and Ashby 20 on Sunday. These are two very different runs but they are both lovely. I did the same combo last year.

I'd had a conversation with a fellow runner, Becca at the Stamford 30K about Rhayader, she was also doing Ashby (and will eventually do Comrades this year), so we hooked up and went to Wales together. The good thing about Rhayader is that it is in the middle of nowhere in Wales, which means that the race starts at a civilised time: 1pm, often taking in the warmest part of the day - or so I thought. The weather in Rhayader village was cold but bearable, I did wonder if I might have overcooked it with a thermal top and gloves under my vest and long tights but I figured some bits could always be removed, a lot of the real racing machines had opted to wear vest and shorts. We did the loop of the town, and then we were off out and upwards. The Rhayader climb is a funny one, it is all runnable, but every year you see people hammer it too fast and walking by 3.5 miles. There is also a "false summit" at about 5 miles where you think you've reached the top but you haven't - the top is at about 6 - you know you've made it when you can see the ambulance(!) and the water station. Despite being full of cold and snotting in to my gloves before 2 miles had gone, the climb did not feel quite as long or steep as previous years. Progress!

At the top, I noticed that some small flakes were starting to fall from the sky. They were bouncing off my arms and gloves. Hail. Hail was OK, it was bouncing off of me and on to the road. In your face weather!!! The weather gods obviously twigged I was feeling smug, and seemed to turn things up a notch and the hail got worse. As we started the descent, the snow came. And came. And came. I glanced at my garmin to check what pace I was doing, and I couldn't see it. my wrists and forearms, as well as the top of my buff that I had over my forehead and ears, and the top of my chest and half my race number were caked in snow. 7 miles came, and a jolly marshal was directing us round the bends (we must have been) and I made a point of sincerely thanking everyone from that point onward because I was freezing cold running, they must have been hypothermic standing around for us. The snow at this point was settling quite deeply on the roads, and even the sheep were lining up against the walls to try and take shelter. The few cars that were out were gingerly navigating the bends, and cyclists had got off their bikes and were walking. I've done a lot of races in a lot of different conditions but for the first time ever in a race I questioned what it would be like if it really went wrong. If it went wrong here, a person would have been in serious trouble. These conditions went on until 10 or 11 miles, when the snow eased a little, it was still blowing a blizzard in our faces but no snow underfoot any more. By about 15 it had gone back to cold and grey. Still the hills, fields and trees were very breathtakingly pretty in the snow, this is what makes this race worthwhile. Because of my cold and not wanting to go too hard, I was running to heart rate to keep it easy and came in at 3.26 - maintaining pace and steadily overtaking in the 2nd half and feeling fine. I think that is a course PB, I've always run it easy but come in around 3.30. In 2013 I was just pleased I had survived! I found Becca who had finished not too long before and gone to buy a coffee (more to hold and warm her hands than to drink) and we made our way back to the Midlands. We went through blizards on the way back, as well as avoiding several kamakaze pheasants. No loss of life - it was a good day. I've stolen this photo from another club's website - it doesn't do the conditions justice, but imagine all this snow has come down in the space of a few mins:

Turned out nice again...

As soon as I got back, I did a Wonder Woman change and back out again to go to a charity quiz evening, to which I'm afraid to say only myself plus a couple of others turned up to. We figured it was the weather, the lurgi going round and the fact comic relief had cleaned everyone out the night before. We cleared things up and went to the pub instead. On the way home from Wales and Saturday evening generally I found I was losing my voice. I felt OK, and my legs felt OK, but I think 3.26 of breathing freezing air in and out didn't help.

I woke up on Sunday morning and my throat felt odd, not sore, but tight. I suspected I was still probably sans voice, turned to my teddy bear and muttered "good morning". It was confirmed. My voice was gone but thankfully my legs still appeared to work. Sarah picked me up at 7.30am, and we had a leisurely trip to Ashby, taking in the services at Tamworth for a hot chocolate which seemed to make my voice come back. We parked at the school which seemed to be quite a way from the race start, but mercifully the loo queue was short and we had a mooch around before the race  started. We got lead out and started, and after a few miles I teamed up with a friend/club mate of Becca's and we ran most of the way together - it was lovely to have the company. On the second lap I saw the familiar figure of Ruth's husband, and despite having been snowed on yet again, managed to muster a smile for the camera:

In anticipation of the hoodie....

As usual the marshals were great, the atmosphere and goodies are why I love this race. Things were much improved this year by a few quite hot looking blokes on bikes cycling in the opposite direction round the course cheering us on. I don't know if they were anything to do with the race, but they made me feel better - as did the water stations stocked with chocolate, jelly babies, gels and nice bottled water - I hate cups. The field at the end was like a cross country, still I felt very strong and came in at - 3.26. Never let it be said I can't pace myself. Think that might be a course PB too. We got a lovely green hoodie, but my hands were so cold and damp and the hoodie so soft and new - I put it on and looked like I had some kind of mould / green fur skin complaint growing out of the backs of my hands. I had my cheese roll whilst waiting for Sarah, the only gripe I have is that she came in around the 3.50 mark and they had run out of goodie bags. She was running at 11.30 pace, and by the law of endurance training someone looking to run a 4.20 marathon might well be doing their LSR at this pace. Doesn't encourage people not to race 20 milers really. I'll get off my soapbox.

The walk back to the car probably did both of us good, and on the way back we stopped for a recovery dinner at the only place we could think of - the Beefeater on the Hagley Road in Birmingham. Well impressed with my chicken dinner, and I couldn't eat it all so Sarah's cat was also impressed on Monday.

I felt a little tired on Sunday night, but that was more to do with the cold than the mileage, and I'm pleased as in the last week or so I've had quite a few decent runs despite being a little under par. I've taken things easy where I've needed to, and at the time of writing have a slight cough and snotty nose that is on its way out, so hopefully when that goes it will be all systems go again. Rargh!

Barnstaple ParkRun and Duchy 20

OK, so I am officially insane. I drove to a ParkRun from Cornwall on Saturday.... it was in Devon. Not the closest one (none are particularly close) but I wanted to have a good go at a 5K on a decent-ish surface rather than a cross country mudbath 5k. Barnstaple it was. I look at my diary coming up, and with various things going on at weekends, I have to take the opportunities when I can to get to ParkRuns. My rationale for this one was that I could have a shower afterwards and go onward to do touristy things on the way back.

So I was up at some unearthly hour (and I mean *really* early) on Saturday to go to Barnstaple. It was a nice enough scenic drive. I parked up at the "Tarka Tennis Centre" (I'm sure that was a film about otters when I was younger...) as instructed by the ParkRun website and I started running around to find the actual park, it is on the opposite side of the river from the tennis place. Not a problem but I think if I'd left getting there to the last minute I wouldn't have been too impressed - I had to accost a man in running kit to make sure I was going the right way. In typical style, you go to something like this and then see people that you know from the West Midlands (who are also down there for the Marathon on the Sunday) small world eh.

I did a 2M WU which gave me a good recce of the park, it looked quaint, some turns, and some bits of uneven path but noting major, and worked out you do one half lap and two full laps. 9.00 am and we were off. I can't say much apart from I just ran, and I felt really really good despite it being short distance. Most of the way I was chasing another lady, we swapped places a couple of times and she probably made me have a better race by the fact that she was there, she beat me by a few seconds I just couldn't match her pace at the end. My pace dropped off a little on the last mile, but I was fairly consistent and still felt good enough to muck about in front of the Camera. I cannot believe I actually did a Mobot. Tw*t.

Outrun by a child - again

I came in at 24:22 and I probably could have pushed a bit harder. Pleased with that. With 5Ks I tend to just run, and then analyse the Garmin stats to death afterwards. My 5K PB is 24:11 on a course that was subsequently re-measured and made a bit longer(!)  and this one was slightly long so I think it is fair to say I had a really good run on Sat. 2M WD, and off to use the facilities in the tennis centre. A brilliant arrangement, showers were spotless and piping hot, the changing rooms were lovely and warm, and no one else seemed to want to use them. I left feeling refreshed, invigorated and smelling of pomegranate.

Because it is somewhat out of season, most of the things I thought about visiting on the way back appeared to be shut. So as it was getting close to lunch time, I decided to see what was in Bodmin. I parked up, walked in to the main street(?) of the town and I just got a bad vibe from the people walking around, bad vibes from the shops and there didn't seem to be much to actually do or see apart from Bodmin Jail. Don't get me wrong the surrounding moor was very pretty, but the town (unless I've missed a gem) seemed a bit sh!t. I grabbed a pasty and ran - sorry if I've misjudged the place . I decided to go to Wadebridge and take some photos of the bits of the Camel Trail I'd run on Thurs. It took a lot of willpower to stop me from buying large amounts of fudge/chocolates from the many gift shops from there, I managed. Just. A quick trip via St. Mawes on the way back to look around and back for some Saturday night pasta eating.

Sunday came around, and I was quite looking forward to the 20. For me running 20 miles is not really a massive deal any more, and the plan was to run easy but put a bit of pace in there. I did the first 10 super easy, and then stepped it up on the second 10, using my HRM I set the Garmin to beep at me if I went over a certain HR. On the flat and downhills I was quite easily hitting my MP without the self destruct bleep of death going off, but it definitely served the purpose of making me back off on the uphills. Ruth's husband was taking photos at Barnstaple, and also at the Duchy, and it was nice to see a familiar face with him (and seeing Ruth running at various points) popping up on the course. I simply felt brilliant all the way round. This race DQ's ipod wearers, and I noticed 1) there was no one flouting the rule and plugging themselves in up the road 2) the support was so fabulous from other runners, marshals, people standing outside houses and sunday cyclists I never felt isolated or in need of any tunes to keep me going. These peoples words were good - people saying how good I looked, how strong I looked and I felt it - I felt upright, in control, strong, happy, chatty and in my element, even on the climbs. Because of the slow start I was overtaking all the way, and it's an ego boost. The 20 miles just flew by.

How to make a 20 miler look like fun

I love the way the hotel in Redruth gives itself over to the Marathoners and 20 mile racers, and at the end we were greeted with a medal, and a good selection of fruit, water, squash and CHOCOLATE BARS! On top of that, going back in to the function room, there was a huge pile of warm pasties, which was a nice touch, all these 20 mile races finish around lunch time and I was ready for some food. Lots of people were lounging around, hobbling about and having trouble getting up from seated, but you know... I could have got up and quite happily run another 10k my legs felt that fresh. Long may it last, and if I feel that good on an undulating course I'm hoping it bodes well for Manchester.

Raargh! You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

On the way home from the race I had a bit of a trauma, I hired a car to come down here because mine is a tiny 2 seater with no boot space - and 8 miles from home I got a puncture (massive hole in tyre - sharp thing in road?) in the middle of nowhere. With everything being shut at that time on Sunday and no spare (a useless can of slime where the spare should be) I had to get towed home, then towed to Truro this morning when ATS opened. No biggie but it messed up my evening plans slightly and my Monday plans, it all turned out OK as I met my friend today instead and we went to a lovely pub and had a lovely long lunch whilst my tyre was being sorted.

It's nice when your lunch winks at you

That was all a bit of a pain, but hey it saved me car parking fees in Truro and also she pointed out it could have been worse and it could have all happened on the way to the race. When I got home tonight, I walked down to the little beach that is 10 mins from the house and sat there for a bit, it seems like one of the most peaceful places in the universe. I didn't know, but it appears that some of the D-Day landing boats going to Normandy left from the very same road my friend lives on. Amazing really. I can't get cross about things like punctures when things like that have happened just up the road.

No caption required really

Sadly my time is coming to an end here for now, but a bit more running and sightseeing to do first before it is back to the humdrum life.

Camels, fish and chips and giant bees

I know I don't have a hard life, but just recently I've been feeling a bit like I need a holiday. Work has been very busy and at times has left me feeling a bit frazzled. I just notice I'm doing things like misreading instructions, missing obvious things, forgetting things, and having poor concentration. It's been manic. Or perhaps I am just getting old.

You may have heard me refer to my friend in the Lake District. She is an example of how good things can happen to good people. She has a magnificent house in the Lakes where she currently lives and works - her job basically involves walking around the Lake District all day (nice in summer, not so great in Jan/Feb). Many years ago whilst a farm worker, she purchased a dilapidated barn which she gradually built in to her home whilst living in a caravan in the garden. Of course with property prices being as they are up there, this house has become more and more valuable over the years, and sometimes her work colleagues visit and in a slightly looking down their nose tone ask "how have *you* managed to get a house like this?". Her reply simply is: "I BUILT IT MYSELF". Part of her plan in life was always to move to Cornwall where she goes on holiday a lot already (there are a lot of dog friendly places for her 3 dogs there). The past few years whilst down in the area she has been actively looking for her dream house, and in 2012 she found it - with it being "the one" she had to move quick - with some financial wizarding, she managed to buy it but is not moving in full time for a couple of years. Of course the move from up "there" to down "here" is a big one, and as friends and family and her go down to stay in the Cornwall house, they take bits and pieces with them - saves a bit on moving costs and hassle.

So this week it has been my turn. I've wanted to do the Duchy 20 for a while but it was logistics that stopped me with it being so far away, so I arranged to go down to the new house for this weekend and a few days either side. I was about to type I've never been to Cornwall. I have, but not in a leisure capacity; I spent the 10th and 11th September there 2001 when I was working for the South West RDA. Why do I remember this, well obviously that was *the* September 11th - my boss and I were driving back from the Truro SWRDA office to Birmingham and had been chatting all the way until one of the chaps in our team rung me at about 5pm when we were still only as far as Taunton. That is my memory of Sept 11th - being oblivious in the bubble of the car, then turning the radio on to listen to the events of the day as they had unfolded, open mouthed, speechless and close to tears at the sheer horribleness of it all.

Wednesday I was working in Bristol, and I had packed up the car at 6am that morning so I could carry on the trip from there after work. I did a bit of lunch time speed work on Weds, a 6 mile run that included 4 miles at Half Marathon Pace effort (since I've got a Half in just over a week I thought I'd better see what was what). After getting a virtual ticking off by Gobi for not being arsed to get a new Heart Rate Monitor for 9 months I've also started wearing one again. Well it went ok - I managed a faster pace than I thought for what I *think* is HMP (according to HR is was HMP). We will see. My attitude has changed. I think I can do the pace I want to do at a half, and I'm prepared to die trying. Go hard or go home. I've changed as a runner - it catches me unawares sometimes but mentally I have a really different attitude to a couple of years ago.

V's instructions were perfect and I managed to get to her house and in to the house with no issues by 7pm, unloaded the stuff and I was sat down relaxing by 8.30. I'm a bit sad but part of the fun for me of going somewhere new is planning different places to go and do my runs and what to do and see. It sounds terribly toursity, I opted to go to Padstow and run some of the Camel trail (along the river Camel) because of easy navigation and a town at halfway. So that was decided Weds night. I switched off the lights to see lights twinkling on the horizon from the kitchen windows and went to bed.

When I got up in the morning, the following sight greeted me:

Rooms with a view

Magnificent. This house is the wrong way round, bedrooms downstairs and kitchen / sitting rooms upstairs, but you can see why. All the living area looks out over the estuary to Falmouth.

I got to Padstow and parked up, and started running along the trail. To anyone local I suppose it might not be very special, and it's probably not the most spectacular scenery that Cornwall has to offer, but looking at the sand, the seaweed covered rocks, the little birds with long legs and long bills probing around in the mud for their lunch is really different for me and it was very relaxing running. I ran over bridges, past massive piles of what looked like slate (?) and towards and through the little town of Wadebridge. Then, simply put I turned round and ran back. If there had been any sort of reliable bus / train service I might have carried on to Bodmin and done the whole thing one way, but hey I can save the Bodmin bit for another day I guess. This run was going to be 12 miles in total, by 10 miles it was lunchtime and I could hear the sound of my own stomach growling for the last 2 miles, so popped some warm clothes on and went in search of food. Camel trail half run, I saw no camels.

I don't know what Padstow used to be like, I'm guessing Mr Rick Stein has put it on "the map" and it has probably changed a lot. As far as I could see it is full of gift and tourist shops selling sweets / shells / surf clothing and then a few bistros. Being a low maintenance girl, I homed in on a chippy. I knew it was going to be nice when I walked in the door and fish lady asked me for my order so they could cook it fresh rather than taking a piece of dry fish from under the heat lamps. Yes I was hungry, but it really was lovely. Then it started to rain, so I stood in the chippy eating this gorgeous grub listening to the owner talk to some of the locals about this and that, so-and so's-pneumonia and tutting at the stupid tourists trying to drive down a one way street. As the rain died off, I did have a little wander around. Probably not the best place to do any shopping, but I got a few bits for presents etc and I have to say in Padstow it is really easy to blow an enormous amount of money on rubbish if you are not careful. And you can't sit down on a bench or anything without being harassed by birds!

Cue Jaws music

Walking round the quay, I managed to find an ice cream parlour, so that was pudding sorted. As I was asking for my double chocolate cone, the same locals who had been in the chip shop came in. I just looked at them ice cream in hand, and said "I'm having a healthy day today". I explained (I desperately volunteered the information trying to justify why they had seen me in both of those establishments) that I'd just run 12 miles, and I was doing the Duchy 20 at the weekend. The old man said he did that every week. I told him I'd see him on Sunday then ;)

This run incidentally was the first proper test of my HRM - I have to say I was pleasantly surprised at the HR vs the pace, e.g. I seem to have a much lower HR for a given pace than I used to.

After my gastronomic blow out, I decided to have a little walk around, and came across "The national lobster hatchery" which thought I'd have a look at whilst I was there (thank god they weren't selling lobsters I'd have probably eaten one of those too). Quite interesting learning about all the beasties and how they are looked after. "Goliath" was quite impressive, as were the teeny little baby lobsters. I also love the way they are trying to make lobsters cool - "Adopt a lobster for your wedding guests" etc and surprise gift ideas. Careful opening your mail folks - if I send you a rubber lobster it means I like you :)

Surprise!

Today I ran from the house towards the King Harry ferry and back, it was a question of time. Places in Cornwall seem to be not many miles away, but a long time away. Not that it bothers me I'm in no real hurry, but I wanted to make the most of the planned visit to the Eden project. Another very low HR run.

I wasn't sure what to expect of the Eden project. My degree was in biology, and I definitely had a leaning towards the plant/biochemistry/microbiology side. The only animals I was interested in were insects largely because of their relationship with plants. The place is amazing. It seems so well structured and thought out, and interesting at every turn. They say it is all environmentally friendly and organic and stuff but the insects seem to appear to be genetically modified:

Pass the Jungle Formula

Tomorrow, if I can get out of bed at an ungodly hour for a Saturday, I plan to drive to the nearest park run  which is a long way away. I'm not going to say how far because it is insanity to go that for a 5K, but there you go, I've never claimed to be normal.

Love is in the air and the hills are alive

I didn't make it to the Cheltenham XC, so my continuous XC race streak for this season is broken. Boo.

What on earth would make me miss this I hear you ask? Well, I went to assist with some pedigree dog breeding, which basically involves:

• Getting up hideously early for a Saturday morning meeting my friend and her er.. bitch (innit) at a motorway services
• Lots of caffienated drinks (for us)
• Lots of dog treats (not for us)
• Driving to Huntingdon racecourse through the bucketing sleet and snow to meet up with "the stud" (who had travelled from Norfolk especially)
• Rampant outdoor humping (not for us)

At this point I suppose I should explain that my friend lives in Kendal - Cumbria - and this was a long drive in a day for her, so I rode passenger on my bit of the M6/A14. This was partly for extra company and undoubtedly for my navigational skills (in this modern age rather than the ability to hold a map the right way up it simply means I have a TomTom). I don't have the lifestyle to have pets, but I adore my friend and her dogs, so she and they are one of a small subset of people / four legged friends I would drop everything for. We got to Huntingdon racecourse in plenty of time and another car drew up in the parking area.... *gasp* It was the Stud and his lady owner - he looked just as handsome in real life as his photos. Phwoar!

*swoon* :)

The owner of the stud informed us that he didn't usually like blue bitches such as my friend owns (that's a term for their colour not personality) preferring the orange ladies (e.g. blond - bloody superficial men) so we were a bit worried he wouldn't be up to the job; but like a true man as soon as we got our lovely girl out of the car he went ballistic and started panting so the signs were good. In true ladylike style she sensed this over keen vibe and seemed petrified - I've heard of playing hard to get but this was something else. We walked them along a little bit by the privacy of a particularly cosy looking hedge, and just as they were about to get better acquainted, a random man appeared out of nowhere with a car and launched about 8 Springer Spaniels out of it muttering something about "I'll walk my dogs where I like" - what?! we never said anything!. The most deserted spot in Cambridgeshire and we get the cast of a Disney movie running past in a comedy style-ee.

Things got a bit more relaxed once the stampede had run off over the horizon, and the magic happened (with me feeling like I should be averting my eyes). I've seen plenty of nature documentaries but I didn't quite realise that pet dogs locked together for that long, hence I played the important role of being lookout for "grumpy springer man" whilst my friend and the studs owner held the dogs in position. These dogs (English Setters) are not massively intelligent when it comes to furthering their breed and need a bit of extra help. Hopefully in mid April there will be the pitter patter of lots of tiny puppy feet and I can make everyone vomit with sickeningly cute photos on Facebook and the like.


My start on that Saturday was too early for even a parkrun, so after I got home I ran to the parkrun course near me and back home in a progressive style. I'd been feeling a bit tired all week, but what happened that evening was weird. Got back, had a shower and thought "I'll just have a nap for an hour" at 5pm. Woke up at 9.30pm thinking "Must eat for tomorrows 20 miler". Managed to shovel down some "Breakfast Biscuits" to fill me up and then back to bed and asleep again by 10pm. Up at 8am on the Sunday. So that's about 14.5 hours sleep. It worries me slightly, I think and hope it was just the combination of some decent mileage weeks, some late nights and early starts. I did feel better for the sleep-a-thon though.


Long runs have been going well, it might seem early but for me the more 20 milers in a marathon campaign the better and I am well in to them already. The Sunday after my half day sleep I was raring to go, despite it being chucking it down and a howling gale - I messed up my route planning (probably too busy daydreaming / listening to the radio but in a long distance runner I think sometimes this detachment is a good thing) and ended up clocking 22 miles. C'est la vie, it was at an easy pace and I don't think the extra running did me any harm, I'd have done more harm if I'd walked back to the car or phoned someone (who I would dare to disturb from the Coronation Street Omnibus I don't really know) to be rescued and spent half an hour getting cold.

This weekend just gone, I visited the Newbury Parkrun again, it was lovely to see so many friends. Not racing this week I ran with Jayne, and we went for an easy start, inadvertently doing quite a good progressive run. And the cake. Well, the cake...

£10 model's own to give a sense of scale

I did share it though. It also looked like it was made with wholemeal flour, so with the addition of some dried fruit that constitutes "health food" right? And here's a nice thing, it appears an actual running club has been born out of the ParkRun community at Newbury. Seems like quite a cool thing to have happened.

Landed at my Mum and Dads Saturday after Newbury. They have purchased a tank and some tropical fish. An afternoon of "ooh the fish has swum in to the log" "now he's swum out of the log". Love them :-)

Last Sunday was the Stamford Valentines 30K, one of my favourite races, and in longer distance terms one of the ones that I've done the most times, I think this is the fourth outing here for me. First things first, despite doing parkruns and things, it seems like about a year since I've actually had to do any marathon paced running. Might not be true but it's just how it feels. Stamford is a hilly course, and despite having done some far more tricky routes I felt really nervous about my mission. Why?? I think it was fear of not being able to do it, fear of blowing up, fear of putting the effort in expecting say 9.00mm and getting 10.00mm but I've learnt if you don't try you'll never know. So I promise myself I will always try - always when it comes to running, I try to apply this rule to general life with mixed success.

I lurked at about 10.15 easy pace for the first 6 miles, and felt comfortable. It was an absolutely beautiful day - all of the other times I've run there it has been grey and freezing with patches of snow on the ground, it's amazing how the conditions can change your perception of the same route. It felt good to be alive. So, the six mile mark approached, and ding ding, I started off on the MP effort (my MP is about 9.00mm) and realise I'm doing 8.00mm down a hill. Gasps of shock from the people who I was behind up to this point as I started running past them like a lunatic. I soon calmed it down, but it felt like every time I got in to something approaching a rhythm a large incline would appear and slow me down, or a large downhill where I would end up going faster for the same effort and wonder if that was "too fast".

I caught up Becca just before 8 miles, and said something like  "I feel like I'm finding this too hard", I think it was just nerves and over enthusiasm and I had to accept that on this course mile splits are going to be up and down; once I had got my head around that (and focused on not losing Becca's red and yellow shirt bobbing along in the distance) I felt a lot better. The good thing about starting slow is that if you do put any faster work in then it becomes an overtaking-fest, which I'm sorry to say is good for my state of mind but probably not those I'm overtaking. Sorry everyone.

The other thing I have to to remember is that this was a training run. My MP efforts were all in the right zone so still decent splits according to the amount of uphill/downhill on a given mile. The point of training is that it is a building block and come the marathon day it all comes together - so for the first attempt at MP in a while I think that was a pretty good session. When I got to 15.5 miles I wound down, and then very ironically found it hard to come down off of the marathon pace. I stopped for a few seconds at the 5K from home water station to get my water bottle completely refilled, in relative terms it was quite warm at Stamford and I don't think I needed the thermal top. As I approached the school I couldn't help but speed up a little to make sure I didn't have any embarrassing being overtaken moments at the finish.... 2.57. In itself not a bad time, good when you consider 9 miles of it were run very slowly.

So I grabbed my goodie bag, headed quickly to the car, took my number off etc and ran 0.6 miles back up the course and back home as a warm down. Always, despite not having a number on, some twit will be shouting "you're running the wrong way" *sigh* I warm down along the course to be encouraging to people coming in and all I get is smart-arses. The extra mile or so made it up to 20, job done and I felt fine.

I must admit when I saw the club speed work schedule this week I groaned at the thought of a hill session, but maybe Stamford has acclimatised me or something because on our 9 hill loops last night I felt like I was flying. My general form moving along and overtaking power showed I probably was flying - good news.

Another set? Don't mind if I do. Raargh!

I think I forgot to say in the last blog, I've entered the 100K in Stockholm (early August) I'm quite excited, it looks like it will be a nice course and a nice break either side. I'll be happy to get through it, and having watched the 'team USA' Spartathlon video (made by a chap with very white teeth who runs insane distances and eats just fruit and veg(!)) I think if I managed to go under the qualifying time I would have to give entry some consideration, - it would be one of those amazing and life changing experiences. But all that is a bit too scary to think about at the moment so I won't. My head is firmly in the sand on that one.

National XC on Saturday in Sunderland, looking forward to it, last outing of the XC season and it looks like it's going to be proper cold and miserable, in the words of Mrs Doyle I want a good miserable time!

January....

January....

Ok, so if we're all waving our mileage todgers around chaps, 227 miles in Jan. Mine is probably bigger than yours. Not a target, just doin' what I need to do.

I think anyone did well to run in the snow. Thank goodness for Gore-Tex Innov8s. The Tuesday after "snowmageddon weekend" was lovely underfoot, and that whole week I managed some quite decent med/long runs by choosing mixed road / off road routes with a majority of un-trodden snow and sensible pavements. I know there is 100 miles in between, but the difference between Wolverhampton and Bristol was amazing - drove to work in Bristol on the Wednesday to find NO SNOW to be seen, that didn't stop everyone else from Birmingham phoning in saying they were unable to get the car off the drive *sigh*. I'm either foolish or just hardened to the elements.

By Friday the Wolverhampton "winter wonderland" had turned in to a skating rink, so sensible head on I ran down the road to a small park and ran laps round and round like a hamster on a (snowy) wheel to get my run in. Where there is a will there is a way. That same evening I went to the Burns night celebration at the running / cricket club - I've decided to get out more. The forecast for that Friday was 4" of snow, but I decided to go anyway. Not been to a Burns night before, but it seemed to involve people dressed in full Scottish gear, reading out some poems, piping in the haggis with bagpipes, a nice haggis meal (I'll eat pretty much anything I'm afraid) and after dinner whisky sampling (I hate whisky and was driving anyway). The highlight of the evening had to be the Scottish dancing. It started, and the caller (man who tells everyone what to do) was asking for victims for the first dance; I got persuaded by the lovely Ged to go up and have a go. My thinking was that a) It would get the humiliation over with early  and b) The first dances would be "easy". It was great fun galloping, twirling and spinning around and due to all of our collective dancing incompetencies I haven't laughed so much in a long time. The firework night at the cricket club was excellent too, I shall be going to more of their things I think.

On the Saturday a small contingent of us went to the Midlands are XC at Stafford Common, you may recall a picture from a previous blog where I have a leg with one brown sock on from misjudging "the ditch". We tend to run Stafford common at least twice a season, if unlucky 3 times, I understand why people don't want to do it.. again... but it was a different course! On a dry day I've run 8.20 pace there, however towards the end of last year as the photo showed it was very boggy and slower going. Well 2013 brought a new element: snow! It had dumped a load more on the Friday night (in fact a few miles up the road in Manchester people had been stranded in their cars on the M6). The main roads were clear, and I was so pleased this was still on, as they cancelled the Southerns at the beginning of that week. Stafford Harriers did well in hosting the event. It was odd running in the type of slushy snow they had there, if I didn't know better I would say the insides of my shoes were getting wet and then the water was starting to freeze inside my shoes. We heard a worrying conversation before the start which involved a boy in a junior race losing both shoes, running the rest of the race in his socks and then being carted to the medical tent because his socks had frozen to his feet!

Snow joke

Unfortunately they had cut the course and "the ditch" was left out. Probably just as well I may have lost a leg to frostbite.

So that weekend I got up to an 18 mile Long Run, and this past week has been quite a big one too. Due to it being the club's annual 10 mile race I had to do a bit of chopping and changing of long run day, I got all my work done early on Friday and headed out on the later part of Friday afternoon for the first 20 miler of the campaign. I ran to West park to have a look in preparation for the Saturday ParkRun, and then round to the Aldersley (atheletics) stadium, and found myself overly excited by the fact they have re-surfaced the canal between Aldersley and Tettenhall. *sigh* I guess there are worse things to get excited about. I usally start my long runs with the club and carry on, or do a 20 mile race as an LSR, so I was a bit worried how I would fare doing the whole thing on my own (more mentally than physically) but choosing the route, constantly checking my pace, breaking it down in to chunks and having a Sainsburys on the route to stop for extra water gave me small things to focus on and it went really quickly. 

So long run complete I wanted to go to the first Wolves ParkRun on Saturday. I had thought about enquiring about starting one a while back, but perhaps somewhat selfishly decided it would take more commitment than I had (or more precisely was ABLE to give) so put it to the back of my mind. I was pleased to see it was starting, and now it is here I want to help out / run as much as I can and I am over the moon that it is a perfect WU / WD distance from where I live. My legs were fine after the Friday run, and I didn't have a problem getting out of bed and warming up on a glorious morning, jogging along looking a the blue sky and waving at some of the folks from the club going past me in the car down the Penn road. It was nice to see so many familiar faces there, both from afar and local. My strategy if you can call it that was to forget about having done a 20 not much more than 12h before and run it blind but to give it 5K effort for a long as I could. The Wolves course is relatively flat, good underfoot (a few icy patches) and 3 laps starting and finishing near the bandstand / tea rooms. I felt quite good, and in the 2nd and 3rd laps was picking people off. As I got close to the finish I was wondering what time I had done, I thought maybe 25:30. I looked at my watch and with not that far to go I was on the low 24:xx so I picked it up and the last .15 miles was doing 7.00mm with a strange expression on my face (I think it's called "effort"). I couldn't quite believe I'd clocked 24:49. Cool! I also feel at these events it is important to support the local cafe that has bothered to open so went and had a bit of cake and some diet coke and a nice chat with some of the other runners before heading off 2 miles home. I can see myself going to this more and more.

Get that camera OUT OF MY FACE!! :)

Today was Stourbridge Running Clubs annual 10 mile race the Stourbridge Stagger. This is hard off road race, and it was nice to see the club pull together and make another successful event. I'm a bit tired from an early start - spent between 07.30-09.30 putting stakes in the ground to have them moved 3cm along by Roy :-p, then directing folks in to the car park then recording the numbers at the finish. Respect to all the runners and very proud of the club folk once again.

So in Feb, if I make the Cheltenham XC and the National I will have done EVERY XC race that the club has entered. That would be good going. I've also got some 18/20 mile races in the mix, not that I intend to race them but it makes for different scenery and I can match it up with visiting friends / parents. Looking forward to Feb!