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the beacon bash

24/2/2014

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It had been a while since I’d last run an LDWA event, but this 21 mile route, just down the road in Newburgh, was a perfect hilly run a couple of weeks before the Bolton Hill double. A few weeks beforehand I’d found out that Simon from SWAC, who I run with regularly on a Sunday, was also running, and he suggested we run it together - which was really good news for a couple of reasons. Firstly, Simon is a great guy, loves his running, and we have some really good chats while we plod around the dunes on a Sunday morning, so I knew I’d have good company. Secondly, Simon knew the route, so I’d be spared having to use the route description, which for me usually results in quite a lot of falling over while trying to decipher things like “TL at big tree and XR”. To make things even easier, we did a bit of a recce of the course with Paul from SWAC as well, so I had a rough idea of what I was in for along at least 60% of the route, mud and hills mostly.

The race started at Newburgh sports centre, in typical low key LDWA style. I arrived, checked in with the organisers, collected my small cardboard number and piece of string to tie it around my neck, went for a pee, and then met Simon in the main hall/bar. Ed from SWAC was also running, and Rob, who was carrying an injury had set off an hour earlier with the walkers so the club was pretty well represented. Simon and I made our way into the car park, where we were sent off without much fanfare.

We quickly found ourselves at the front as we made our way down the street towards the canal, joking about being at the front and how we were almost certainly going to win. We trundled along the canal for a while, which was part of the stretch we’d recced, and immediately lost our race leader status when a guy in a blue top came blasting past us. Then we joked about how joint second would do, and how winning wasn’t everything. Then another chap came up behind and started running with us, he’d done the race a few times, and a few mental mountain ultras too, and we chatted with him for a bit, until we turned left off the canal towpath and started up the first hill of the day. We were onto a bit I hadn’t recced (although Simon knew where we were going), and we got a bit caught up in trying to keep up with the other guy we were running with, and by the time we got to the top we were  gasping a bit. Then the guy we were trying to keep up with disappeared off the trail, leaving us on our own. Neither of us would have tried to keep up with him if we thought he was going to stop at the top, but it wasn’t too bad, we quickly got our breath back.

The next stretch was largely uneventful, we made it to the first checkpoint where it was warm enough for me to lose my jacket, and at the second one Simon lost his top – between the climbs and the weather it wasn’t cold at all. Then we hit the first major checkpoint where I scoffed down some cakes, Simon had some flapjack, and we chatted to a couple of other runners who’d come in behind us. We didn’t hang about too much, although we were there long enough for one girl to overtake us without us noticing until later.

We ran on, rejoining the bit of the course I’d recced just past a railway station station, which was reassuring. I’ve never really recced a route before but it was good to all of a sudden know what was left in terms of hills and distance.

All along the way we’d been saying hello to the walkers we’d been passing, as well as keeping a cheeky eye on where we were in relation to the guy in the blue top. We’d gotten used to being told he was miles ahead, and that we were the next ones behind him, still in second place, but then a group of walkers told us there were two people ahead of us. We couldn’t quite work out what had happened, but then a few minutes later we caught up with the girl that had passed us at the last checkpoint while we were stuffing our faces with cake. We had a little chat as we passed her, but managed to pull past her and eventually left her behind after a mile or two in as slow an overtaking move as you’ll ever see.

After that it was all quite straightforward. Running up and over Ashurst Beacon was a relief as it was the last real bump, and was downhill the rest of the way from there. We both knew the route for the last stretch, and despite a few glances over our shoulders when there was open ground behind us, nobody was anywhere near catching us and pinching our joint second place. We were also nowhere near catching the guy in blue, although there was a brief moment when we saw someone in blue walking ahead of us who we thought was him. We allowed ourselves a few unsportsmanlike minutes of thinking he might be injured so we could catch him and win, but it turned out to be the lead walker.

So with half a mile or so to go we came off the trails, and ran like champions along the road back to the sports hall at Newburgh. The streets were lined with thousands of local school children, people honking their horns at us, you could feel the joy and excitement in the crowd at the epic display of athletic prowess they were witnessing. A small boy, maybe about seven years old, handed us a SWAC flag which we took a corner of each and held aloft on our approach to the finish. As we ran up the driveway to the finish line, journalists and photographers were fighting to get the best spot for a shot of us coming in, and within seconds of crossing the line they had been replaced by a group of local residents who lifted us up on their shoulders and carried us, cheering, into the sports hall.

Ok, obviously this was an LDWA even so none of that last bit actually happened. There wasn’t even a finish line, just the car park we started in, and there was nobody there at all. We just stopped running, congratulated each other, and went inside where we gave our names in and got a pie and some sticky toffee pudding.

It felt really good to have come second, even if most of the people we beat were walkers, there was no medal or trophy for it, and nobody other than us cared at all, but even then there was no time to get big headed about it. We sat down to eat our pie with the guy who beat us easily, who told us how he was injured and half an hour slower than last year, and then the guy who came in behind us told us about the time he’d run from John O Groats to Land’s End, which sort of put things in perspective.

All in all though it was a good morning’s running. Good company, cake, loads of mud, and some good hill training. And we kicked those walkers’ butts.


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Mad Dog 10k

24/2/2014

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A week or so before the race I mentioned to a colleague that I was running the Mad Dog 10k, and he asked me “what’s Mad about it?” I replied “nothing really, in fact, it’s about as flat and straightforward a race as you could ask for.”

Cut to race day and I’m warming up by the race start in 45mph winds, hearing people that have been down to the coastal stretches of the route describing it as impossible to run in, many of them already discounting any attempts at a PB in the conditions.

I hate 10ks, they are far too much like hard work, but I know they are good for me, and given this one was around the corner in Southport and I’m a member of Southport and Waterloo AC I pretty much had to run it. I was feeling pretty good having run sub 20:00 for my first two 5k club runs in previous weeks, and had put a few interval sessions in as preparation, just like proper runners do. I’d even been laying off the marathons for a few weeks so I had no excuses for not giving a good account of myself. I’d told a few people I had an eye on running my first sub 40:00, which spurred me on a bit, given how unlikely it was.

It was weird being around the start and seeing so many familiar faces from the club, normally I arrive at start lines after a couple of hours driving, run for 5 hours on my own and then drive home again, but there was something cool about being there with my club shirt on and knowing there were other people I knew both supporting and running.

They had a separate start for the elites which I wasn’t, so just before the race start I made my way to the front of the line where the rest of the runners were and without much messing about we were off.

The first 500m or so were ok, nice and quick, a nice wide road with plenty of space, and a bit of a cross wind which was annoying, but not too bad at all. Then we made a left turn along the sea front which was like running into a brick wall. The wind was so strong, all of a sudden my effort went up and my speed went right down. Everyone consciously or subconsciously started to form groups to shelter from the wind, and I got stuck in a really slow one straight away. I broke out and all of a sudden felt the full force of the wind, and it was all I could do to make it, gasping, to the next group where I got a brief respite. We were sort of moving about in our group so there was a bit of shelter and we sort of shared the effort into the wind, but it was impossible to get any rhythm going, and the battle for oxygen was constant - slightly ironic given how the wind was doing its best to jam as much air into our faces as possible. I looked down and saw I was running at 4:45/km pace and couldn’t believe it. My legs were hurting and my lungs were screaming and I was barely running marathon pace!

It was like that until around 5km where we turned left, away from the water, and out of the wind. It took me a good few minutes to readjust, get some breath back, and start thinking about the rest of the race. Sub 40:00 was well out of the window, but a PB was still on if I could run a massive negative split, and with the wind now at my back it seemed worth a go. I grabbed a bottle of water shortly after half way, had a sip, and then to make sure I could put it in the bin, accelerated past a couple of guys to my left. The little burst of speed felt really good, and when I looked at my watch shortly after I was running around 3:50/km which felt ok. At around 6k I kicked a little, and passed Keith from SWAC, and at 7k I kicked a little more. I don’t remember much from there other than the relief of seeing the 9km marker and figuring that was as good as the finish line. I gave it everything I had left, turned right back onto the start/finishing straight, and just hoofed it.

I finished in 42:01, saw a few of the SWAC guys and girls at the end which was really cool, and hung around for a few of the other club runners to come in behind me. I was a bit out of it and not especially chatty, but it was great to see so many people that I knew there supporting and racing.

Walking back to the car I was gutted about my time, I really wanted to get at least near 40:00, and a 00:24 PB wasn’t much of a consolation, despite the appalling weather.

I perked up a bit when I got home though. When the results came out I saw that I’d placed 46/1865, which sort of put the conditions in perspective. Only 15 people broke 40:00 on the day, so it was never really on the cards for a plodder like me. I also finished 3rd of the SWAC runners which felt really good, even though it didn’t count for anything club-wise. Also, I ran a massive 5k PB in the second half of the race, albeit wind assisted, of 19:17.

Ultimately I achieved my main objective, which was to inject some decent speed and tempo work into my SDW100 training. I did that in the weeks running up to the Mad Dog, and the race itself was a tougher tempo session than I could have ever given myself.

Splits

1km: 4:07

2km: 4:42

3km: 4:43

4km: 4:43

5km: 4:27

5km split: 22:44

6km: 4:00

7km: 3:53

8km: 3:52

9km: 3:51

10km: 3:41

Second 5k: 19:17

Finish time: 42:01





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