Author Archives: Ben

Wellington Monument Race: race report

by Ben

The last few months have been pretty quiet for me on the racing front. Way back in July and August, I ran the Pawlett Plod and the Wessex 10k, posting my third and fourth fastest 10k times. I had then hoped to run the Taunton 10k to set a new 10k PB. Unfortunately, I basically didn’t bother to put in the hard yards in training, and didn’t run Taunton at all. Since then, my training has continued to be inconsistent until a few weeks ago. And, although I have managed to improve my consistency, I am still lower on mileage than I would like to be.

All that said and considered, the Wellington Monument Race was never going to be a PB attempt. It starts in Hemyock, roughly 128 metres above sea-level, and then climbs and climbs to Wellington Monument, the world’s tallest three-sided obelisk, about 272 metres above sea-level. Then we turn around, and go all the way back down (and up, a little). The monument is having some work done at the moment, so isn’t quite as picturesque as usual – this also had a slight knock-on effort on the race distance.

Wellington Monument vs Wellington Monument at the moment…

For some reason (probably mostly because it isn’t in the Somerset Series), this is a race that I’ve never done before, even though it is under half an hour from home. In fact, although Wellington Monument is in Somerset, Hemyock is in Devon – thankfully I wasn’t asked for my passport though. (They are funny, thems Devon folk.)

Pre-race

A local race meant a bit of a lie-in, although only until 8 am, as the race was a 10 am start. Originally Lolly was going to take Lani down to Exeter for junior parkrun, but Lani sensibly decided to have a morning off: they will be plenty of opportunities to parkrun over the next week or so! Despite the whole family now being free, I travelled down alone, and found a parking space in the village, just under half a mile from the start.

After making sure I had everything I needed from the car, and nothing much that I didn’t, I headed over to Hemyock Primary School, which hosted the race. It was all pretty easy and straightforward: number collected, pre-race poo, number pinned onto vest, warm-up run, hoodie stashed, jog to the start. During the jog to the start, I realised that I was a bit warm with a long-sleeve tee under my race vest, and found a fellow RFRC member who was spectating to abandon it with.

The race

Compared to most of the races I do, this one attracted a fast field. I had noticed this when I checked the entry list the evening before, but it became even more obvious when I was waiting at the start. He’s quicker than me, he’s quicker than me, he’s definitely quicker than me… But this was never about time or position – for once I was just racing for the… uhmmm, fun(?)… of it.

The race started on a road junction about quarter of a mile away from the school, and then dropped down through the village… Ah, ‘dropped down’. In an out-and-back. Bummer dude. I had done minimal homework on this race – as far as I was aware it was an out-and-back in which the first half was uphill, and the second half downhill. With a short muddy stretch at the top around the Monument. Maybe I should have done more research – it was clearly a little more nuanced.

I mostly focused on trying not to run too fast, before the hill started. But then… blimey. Again, a lack of research meant that I didn’t realise that the first climb out out of Hemyock was the toughest part of the whole race. I survived that climb by using a common strategy: If no one else I can see is walking, then I don’t need to walk either… Around a mile and a half in, the course then descended gently for half a mile. Oh blimey, not again! Andy, who I used to run with regularly, was marshalling at this point and shouted some encouragement at me, but I was so zoned in on the run, and the effort, that I didn’t really notice who it was until it was too late to respond!

Actually, I think this is sort of bollocks, given that it isn’t really a mirror image: that bit near the end should be as low as the bit at the start. This Garmin elevation monitor thing obviously isn’t working great. But anyway, observe steep climb near the start.

The course climbed again after that short descent, but the hill was less vicious now, and was softened somewhat by the knowledge that there was less than a mile of ‘up’ left. A left turn was coned off and very well marshalled, and then we crossed the road into a muddy car park to make the last bit of the ascent to the monument. In all honesty, by this stage it was barely a climb at all. Because of the renovation work on the monument, we just rounded some cones and a marshal at the top, and then it was just back again!

The descent was relatively straightforward. On the top part of the hill, it was gentle enough to encourage without being too dramatic. The half-mile ‘climb’ where Andy was marshalling didn’t feel too bad; it was mostly just flat, rather than a hill either way. I even managed to thank him this time around, and apologise for not doing so on the way up!

After Andy’s marshalling spot though was the steep drop; the part that had been so horrible on the way up. I hoped that my downhill running would help me here, but in all honesty, the field was so spread by this point that it didn’t really make much difference. I went past one chap who looked like he was struggling with something, and I closed in on another runner, but as soon as the course levelled off I stopped gaining on him.

For me, this last part was the toughest of the whole race. Thankfully, someone had told me beforehand that the finish was at the school, and thus that extra quarter of a mile beyond the start line. It was a slog back up through the village, with more of a climb up to the school itself. In reality, it should have faded into insignificance in comparison to the main climb we had endured earlier in the race. But that isn’t how running works.

Still, despite having no one around me, I think I managed to push myself well enough to the finish. I did feel that the marshalling, which was so good all the way around the course, could have done with being a bit clearer, and more present, for that final climb. I naturally found myself on the pavement, only to be shouted at very late on that I needed to move onto the road, which left me dodging through a narrow gap between parked cars to do so. But that was probably just me.

I didn’t look at my watch when I crossed the finish line. In fact, I didn’t check my time until a few hours after the race. As I said, it wasn’t really that sort of race for me. However, I’m pretty chuffed with a 43:44. Roughly speaking, I ran 23:34 for the first half of the race and 20:10 for the second half. Which is pretty good, but also slightly disappointing that I didn’t manage to run sub-20 for the predominantly downhill 5k…

On the other hand, using Strava’s ‘grade-adjusted pace’, my 43:44 is equivalent to a 41:42 on a flat course, which would have been a PB, so, you know. Not so bad. In a fortnight I have the Stoke Stampede, which I ran way back in December 2013, my first ever sub-50 minute 10k. There would be a nice symmetry to it being my first sub-40, but there is no way I’m in that sort of form. But maybe, just maybe, I can get the PB I’m craving?

Post race

Immediately after the race, I had a chat in the school hall with Nadine, and then collected my cider from Emma. I ambled back through the village towards my car, but stopped to have a lengthy chinwag with Simon, before eventually I got too cold, and headed to my car. Did I mentioned that this race was very local, and so I knew a lot of the volunteers? The support, not just from those I knew, was exceptional throughout the race.

On my drive home, I stopped off for a foot-long Chicken Pizziola from Subway… because Subway is good post-race ‘recovery’ food.

Did I enjoy this race? Sort of. I mean, no. But yes.
Would I do this race again? Yes, probably.
What’s next? Race-wise, the Stoke Stampede on 5 January 2020, but there’s a Christmas Day parkrun and two New Years’ Day parkruns before then…

An ‘I’m not really running’ update

by Ben

I don’t know what it is, but I just haven’t clicked this year. It has by no means been awful: other than when I fell over and made a hole in my knee, I haven’t been injured this year, and thankfully I’ve had none of the illness woes that I struggled with at the end of last year. I’ve just sort of, lost my mojo.

Heck, it wouldn’t take much for this year to finish as my second highest mileage ever, though as things stand I’m on course for my lowest total since 2015. (The difference between my current second most (810) and my fourth most (732) is about 80 miles.)

I have still been running though, and I’ve been trying to find the enjoyment while running. Even if sometimes that enjoyment isn’t actually the running itself.

My hopes of a sub-40 minute 10k this year faded away as it became clear that I just didn’t have the mental fortitude to string together consistent training weeks: I could do 30 miles one week, and then simply not run at all the following week. My last two months or so of running mileages go as such:

30, 0, 13, 0, 9, 30, 0, 18, 5, 11.

That said, I did manage to clock a sub-20 minute parkrun when we visited Burnham and Highbridge at the end of September (specifically for that purpose). While this isn’t a huge achievement for me, I would have been pretty annoyed looking at my parkrun history if I hadn’t done it.

Looking… fresh as a daisy(?!) during Burnham and Highbridge parkrun.

We also visited our 50th different parkrun; our ‘Cow’ (half a Cowell), when we went to Rogiet parkrun earlier in September.

I still have some races to look forward to, if I can get things together: the Brent Knoll race is one of my favourites, at the end of November. It isn’t the sort of race to worry too much about a time, but it’d be good to be able to have a run that I’m proud of, as I had to plod around this one last year at the height of feeling awful, in order to complete the Somerset Series.

After that is the Wellington Monument race, the weekend before Christmas, a local 10k that I’ve never done. Another one not to worry too much about time, it heads up a hill to Wellington Monument (surprise, surprise) before heading back down to the start again.

After that, in the first week of January, is the Stoke Stampede 10k. Weather dependent, this is genuinely quick course that I could attempt a PB on if I’m in good shape. It’s about 11 weeks away at the moment, so there is every chance that if I get my shit together, I could actually do well. If.

And after that, if I really manage to get my training sorted, is the Grizzly race in March.

It all seems in equal parts unlikely and perfectly achievable at the moment. But, I did manage to run my second Longrun Meadow parkrun of the year this week…

… and if I can do that, I can do anything!

parkrun tourism: Rogiet parkrun

by Ben

Rogiet is a village in Wales which is more or less at the end of the Prince of Wales Bridge (the second Severn Crossing), and is pronounced with a hard g: “rog-it“. Until recently, Rogiet parkrun was not really on our radar to complete, as it is in the Wales region, rather than the south-west region. A couple of things have changed our priorities. As we’ve discussed before, one of our children gets car sick, which limits us somewhat for many of the south-west region that we have not completed yet, as they are quite long drives. Secondly, regions sort of don’t exist anymore.

So, how has our touring being going lately? Well… it hasn’t. As Lolly mentioned in her Summery Summary, we stopped for the summer holidays. Basically because I get travel anxiety and had no desire to be stuck in queues. Also, I like sleep. This makes me a bad parkrun tourist. Our last tourist parkrun was Torbay Velopark, on 6 July. In the interim, while Lolly has run parkrun almost every week, I have done it only once, a 21:07 at Longrun Meadow in early August.

After all this time, we were itching to get back out touring. Well… Lolly was. I had sort of got used to a Saturday lie-in. We quickly homed in on Rogiet, basically because it was the closest parkrun up the M5 for us. Although Bridport is a little bit quicker to get to, the road quality is somewhat lower, and so more… risky for car sickness. I’m sure we’ll bite the bullet soon, but not first week back.

I think Lolly was trying to get a nice atmospheric pre-run photo. Lani and I had other ideas…

The drive was a doddle: M5/M49/M4 and then come off and double back on ourselves through Magor and Undy to Rogiet. There was plenty of parking, and the event course page very usefully suggested an alternative car park which was next to both the toilets and a children’s play area. Both of these are pretty on-brand for us, so it was great to have that information. After arriving in what seemed like plenty of time, by the time we had used the toilets, got changed (me), got buggy out, and generally had to manage the children, we were getting a little bit pushed for time.

From the car park we were in (Rogiet Playing Fields car park, essentially the railway station overflow car park, which is free at the weekend), it was a relatively short walk over the railway bridge and down into the park. Despite our worries, we arrived in enough time for the run briefing, though we missed any first-timers briefing which might have happened.

As we gathered together for the start, I suddenly realised quite how few people there were. In fact, the attendance of 68 makes it my second smallest parkrun event, after the 49 people at Mount Edgcumbe back in 2016. Even in such a small field, there were two other buggies, which is great to see. When I started buggy running with Lani in 2014, I was something of a novelty, but now it is rare to go to a parkrun and not see at least one. (In fact, I’m coming up on a buggy milestone: Rogiet was my 46th buggy parkrun.) I lined up on the right-hand side of the pack, a couple of people back from one of the other buggies. (The third buggy was tailwalking.)

Before the run, I didn’t know much about the course. I knew that it was mostly on grass, and Lolly told me on the way that it was three laps, and multi-terrain. That was the full extent of my knowledge. I had guessed that it might be another of the flat, bland sports field courses. It was not. We headed out on a grassy track; it was lumpy and scattered with wild growth. I frequently drove the buggy straight through little shrub things right in the middle of the path.

Wedged between the motorway and the railway line, but you wouldn’t know it!

After weaving its way all the way to what I assume is the end of the park, the course turned a sharp 180 degrees, with cheery mini-marshals offering high-fives just before and after. The only ‘hill’ of the course comes immediately after the turn, a short shallow climb immediately followed by the corresponding descent. Even with the buggy this wasn’t much of a climb. The course was pretty narrow along this stretch back for a time, giving no overtaking chances, especially for a buggy.

The route kisses for a short two-way section before forking back off to the right, for the rally segment. This part, in the field we had started in, was very up-and-down side-to-side, which really tested both the buggy’s suspension, and my ability to keep the buggy upright at speed. It was a lot of fun though!

Rinse and repeat, and repeat. After taking it relatively easily on the first lap, I eased quicker as I went along, and managed to run the whole thing with progressive splits. Despite the small field size, I was shocked to finish in 7th, in what was my third-quickest buggy time (23:23), trailing Longrun Meadow (22:56) and Torbay Velopark (22:58), both of which are naturally quicker courses.

Blimey, they do look like they’re enjoying it, don’t they?

After the run, I was pretty thirsty, but had stupidly left my water bottle (along with my phone) back in the car. I accordingly stole both items from Lolly as they came around to complete their second lap. (Her water bottle and phone, obviously. She didn’t miraculously have mine.) While I waited for them to finish their third lap, I had a nice chat to the run director, while KK had fun playing with the cones in the finish funnel. Once Lolly and Lani had finished, we hung around for a little bit being sociable, before heading over to the play park.

Rogiet is a lovely little parkrun. Severn Bridge, just up the road, attracts all the headline tourism in the area because of the novelty. Honestly though? This was a much nicer location for a parkrun, and was such a great, friendly event.

Next up? I don’t know… can I have a lie-in again?!

Wessex 10k: race report

by Ben

Right, how does this writing thing work? I’ve missed a few race reports; the last one I wrote was for the Town Tree Trail, back in May. Since then I’ve ran the Crewkerne 10k (abandoned draft blog post), Piddle Wood Plod, the Quantock Beast (another abandoned post), and the Pawlett Plod. As a quick summary:

Crewkerne 10k: pretty good
Piddle Wood Plod: meh
Quantock Beast: good
Pawlett Plod: felt not great, but pretty good actually

This race was the first part of my planned summer of speed, aiming to improve my 10k PB, and ideally set a sub-40 time. Unfortunately, after a good first half of my eight-week training ahead of this race, the wheels fell off somewhat, and I’ve barely done anything over the last four weeks. So, coming into this race, I didn’t really know what I’d be able to do. Sub-40 wasn’t going to be in the picture, but maybe I could still get a new 10k PB? To review, my planned targets are:

Gold: 39:59 (sub-40)
Silver: 41:23 (distance PB)
Bronze: 42:05 (race PB)

Pre-race

I chose the Wessex 10k because it described itself as “a fairly flat mainly road”. I had a look at some of the Strava traces from last year, and decided that the hill looked small enough that this could still be considered a decent PB route. The date also worked out quite nicely, and I seem to recall that it was priced relatively reasonably too. (Just checked, £16.) What I failed to notice until a couple of weeks before the race was that it was a 19:00 start time on the Saturday; I had spotted it was on a Saturday, but not that it was an evening race. This threw me off a little: I have it in my head that I don’t race so well in the evening, and I was just annoyed at not having noticed.

In the end though, being in the evening worked quite well; it meant that we still had all of the day on Saturday as a family, and would have on Sunday too (though I’m sat here writing this, so go figure.) I left just after five, which gave me lots of time to get to Somerton and then bimble around for plenty of time before the start. I didn’t have to worry about registration, as the race number had been sent out through the post. Just after half six I started my warm-up; I had intended to go for a longer warm-up, as I generally find them more effective, but it ended up being just over a mile, which is about my normal.

At around five to seven, we started to gather at the start line, and I got chatting to another chap on the start line, but it quickly became apparent that I wouldn’t be using him as a pacer; he was aiming for around 38 minutes! In the inaugural race in 2018, only six runners went sub-40, so I was half aware that there might not be too many ahead of me, and so lined up in the front row.

The race

I almost managed to not go off too fast. As I wasn’t too sure what time I would be capable of, I opted to aim for 41 minutes, and see what happened. That would equate to a time of 4:06 per kilometre. After the initial rush, I settled down to 3:55 for the first kilometre, which was pretty flat, heading out of the sports club, along the main road, and then hooked right onto the back-roads. It was obvious that there were more quick runners than in 2018, but that was to be expected for the second year of an event.

Shortly after the end of the first kilometre, we started to drop down the hill; this was the same one that we would return up later. And, well, it looked worse than I had hoped. In place of the gentle slope I had been expecting, or at least hoping for, was a genuine hill. Okay, no worries, I could make time up heading down the hill, and just see how well I could hold on up the hill in the second half. Downhill-assisted, the second kilometre clocked in at 3:45, and the third, still with a modest descent, was 3:58, leaving me 40 seconds up on an even-split 41:00 time. But of course, it wouldn’t be an even-split race, and I was aware that I could lose close to that same 40 seconds on the hill alone.

Any hopes of managing to make up more time, or at least hold steady were immediately dashed, as at the 3 km marker, we started on the rough stuff. A dusty, rocky, pot-holed farm track. This wasn’t part of my plan, and brought back memories of the Bridgwater 10k way back in 2014, when I destroyed myself chasing a PB on a course with a farm-track in the middle. Thankfully, I’m a bit more experienced now, but I was still losing time against my 41 minute target. Partly, this was probably just lack of fitness due to my reduced training lately, but the terrain clearly won’t have helped. Through the fourth and fifth kilometres, I clocked 4:13 and 4:19, taking me through five kilometres in 20:11; still theoretically 19 seconds up on my target, but in reality, starting to really struggle.

I’d developed an odd pain high on my chest; either my lung or a muscular pain, I couldn’t tell which. It was annoying without being debilitating, but I was very much hoping that it didn’t get worse. Just after the halfway stage, we had the only drinks station on the course, from which I took a quick swig, and then we returned to the road. I tried to get my legs turning over a bit quicker on the better surface, but to little avail; the next three kilometres came in at 4:36, 4:30, 4:30.

Not the best running form late in the race! (Credit: Martin Edwards)

Then the hill hit. It actually was not so bad as I had worried; I managed to run up the whole thing. That shouldn’t have been an achievement, but I’ve really struggled with hills this year for some reason, so I was pretty proud of it. The hill last for pretty much a whole kilometre, starting just before the 8 km marker in actual fact, and correspondingly, finished just before 9 km. It was by far my slowest kilometre of the race, a 4:54, but Strava’s grade-adjusted pace (GAP) was 4:25, which was quicker than my GAP for kilometres six and seven.

Over the top of the hill, and I knew I just had a kilometre to go. I willed my body to run faster, damn it! I managed it. Not consistently, but effectively; I oscillated between a 3:50 and 4:20 pace, and despite telling myself that I was now in energy-saving mode ahead of another race on Wednesday, I engaged in a sprint-finish when the runner behind me tried to get past. Helped by his push at the end, I ducked in just under 42 and a half minutes, officially posting a time of 42:28.

Post-race

After getting my breath back from my quick finish, I grabbed a cup of water, and then had another chat with the chap I’d been taking to before the race. After a quick analysis of each of our races, I commented that I noticed he was from 26.2 RRC (the best running club in Surbiton), made famous by Danny Norman on the With Me Now podcast. It turned out that I’d been chatting to none other than Chauffeur Ramek – what a small world it is! After some more parkrun chat, we headed off our different ways.

The medal was really nice; probably the second biggest in my collection, though I don’t really do the type of races that give big medals. (Because I’m cheap.) (Because I race so much that if I did expensive races, we would miss our mortgage payments.)

How about my time? It ranks as my fourth best 10k time; just behind my Pawlett Plod time from a few weeks ago:

42:06, Chard Flyer, January 2017
42:19, Battle of Sedgemoor 10k, August 2015
42:23, Pawlett Plod, July 2019
42:28, Wessex 10k, August 2019
43:18, Round the Tor 10k, May 2016

That two of my quickest ever 10k times have come this year is encouraging. That my two overall quickest times are two and four years old respectively is disappointing. It’s another eight weeks now until the Taunton 10k, and if I want to get a new PB, then I simply have to put the training in. No excuses.

Did I enjoy this race? If I’m honest, not really. But that was no fault of the race, or the course. Sure, I’d have liked the hill to be flatter, and the rough track to be smoother. In reality though, I just wasn’t fit enough to run this race as I wanted.
Would I do this race again? Probably not, no. I signed up hoping that it was a good PB course, and it wasn’t really. If it was a Somerset Series race, I’d do it and enjoy it well enough, I’m sure. But as a standalone race, it probably won’t be for me again. Never say never though, I guess.
What’s next? The Haselbury Trail 10k on Wednesday.

Ben’s training catch-up – #sub40

by Ben

I got pretty good at keeping a training diary throughout January and into February, until I tripped over and smashed my knee in. Since then, nothing. I basically didn’t run at all for a month, and then eased myself back in. I’ve had a few spring sniffles that have set me back a little bit, but mostly I’ve been racing. The Somerset Series gets pretty hectic through April, May and early June, and so it has been hard to find a training rhythm.

But after the recent Piddle Wood Plod, which I’ve yet to write up, we enter a quieter period through the summer. I’ve still got a few races scheduled, namely the Quantock Beast and the Pawlett Plod, but my focus is switching more long-term. Specifically, I want to address my 10k PB.

I last ran a real 10k ‘PB effort’ at the 2015 Battle of Sedgemoor 10k. That’s right, four years ago this summer. At that race, I ran 42:19. Sixteen months later, I ran 42:06 at the 2017 Chard Flyer, a time that I never really counted as my 10k PB, as I was concerned that the course was short. I’ve since realised that GPS really can be quite bad, and it probably wasn’t short. So let’s call my 10k PB 42:06. It isn’t quite that simple though. Although 42:06 is my 10k race PB, I have actually run a quicker 10k time during a race. At the 2016 Great Bristol Half, I clocked 41:24 for my first 10k.

Hopefully, I’ll look better than I did after the Chard Flyer…

So, I have two 10k times to beat: my official 10k race PB of 42:06, and my quickest time over the 10k distance of 41:24. Except that, actually, as I first discussed in August 2017, what I actually want to achieve is a sub-40 minute time. As such, my three targets for the summer are pretty obvious:

Gold: 39:59 (sub-40)
Silver: 41:23 (distance PB)
Bronze: 42:05 (race PB)

I’m not at my fittest at the moment, but I’m getting there. On the rather undulating Crewkerne 10k course, I ran a 43:48, and I should be able to improve on that fairly significantly on a flatter course. According to Strava, my grade-adjusted pace for that Crewkerne 10k was 6:46, which equates to a 10k time of 42:02. So in theory, without even needing to actually improve, I should be able to hit my bronze target. If I trust Strava, that is.

Of course, the crux of the matter is that there is a reason my 10k PB has got to stale. Yes, partly it is because I keep getting ill or injured. But it is also because I just haven’t run any flat, road 10k courses since that 2015 Battle of Sedgemoor race. This summer, I’m aiming to remedy that. The Chard Flyer has 474 feet of elevation, Crewkerne has 607 feet. The first of my ‘target’ races is the Wessex 10k, 215 feet, on 3 August. The second will be the Taunton 10k, 157 feet, on (provisionally) 29 September. If I don’t pull it off at either of them, I have my eye on some back-up races in November.

I have targets. I have races. All I need now is training. In the past, I’ve trusted to Pete Pfitzinger’s Faster Road Racing. But with an eight-week training window for the Wessex 10k, I simply don’t have the base mileage to be able to adapt his plans easily. So instead, I’m going to use a combination of his ideas, my knowledge, and some other stuff I’ve read, to come up with something suitable. Assuming that I’ve got my mileage up to a decent level during this first eight weeks, then I should be able to use an adaptation of Pfitzinger’s plan for the second eight weeks.

There we go. Sub-40 in either August, September or November. No worries.

parkrun tourism: Severn Bridge parkrun

by Ben

Since it began in August 2018, Severn Bridge parkrun has been a hotspot in the parkrun tourism community. There are various reasons that parkruns achieve this sort of ‘cult’ status. Jersey parkrun had it for a long time due to the fact it was the only UK parkrun to start with the letter ‘J’. Fountains Abbey has it because it is so beautiful. Bushy has it because it was the first parkrun, and remains the biggest in the UK. For Severn Bridge, the attraction is threefold; the parkrun spans two countries (Wales and England), it is run almost entirely on a huge bridge, and it is literally right next to a motorway. Any single one of these elements would have been an attraction, but the three together make it a very unique parkrun.

Before we can run across it, we have to drive across it!

When the event was first started, the bridge tolls were a hindrance for us, as the run starts on the Welsh side of the river, and it would have cost us £5.60. However, the tolls were scrapped in December, making it freeeeeeeeee (other than the circa £12 it cost us in fuel). In fact, despite being outside the South West region, this was probably the quickest parkrun to get to, of those we hadn’t yet done. Parking was well signed and marshalled, but it did fill up early, and is a five to ten minute walk from the start. There are toilets near the car park, at Thornwell Football Club, which is also where people meet up afterwards for a drink.

Runners congregate in the M48 underpass for the pre-run briefing (although it does have to be noted that the volunteer in question was shouting “race briefing” 😲). Honestly, I couldn’t really hear anything of the briefing, despite the fact they used a speaker system, and I was stood relatively close. Having not looked up the course before we arrived, I wasn’t prepared for another walk, up from the underpass to the bridge, where we apparently started. By which I mean, we were still walking towards the start when I heard a noise, and the run had started.

We met, and later finished, at the M48 underpass.

Honestly, I was a little miffed; I wasn’t even that close to the back, so some people would still have been a fair way back down the path, walking along, with no idea that parkrun had started, and they were against the clock already. In fact, Lolly and Lani were more or less in this situation. Anyway, it wasn’t ideal, but it’s not like I’d be getting a PB anyway: I was running with KK in the buggy, and Severn Bridge is NOT flat.

The course runs on the bridge for essentially 4.7 of the 5 kilometres, a simple out and back. The path is about four runners wide, so wide enough for two in each direction; though with the buggy, four was decidedly uncomfortable. As such, the start was pretty congested and slow going with the buggy. I had intended to start a bit further forwards than I usually would with the buggy, expecting the congestion. But never mind!

It took me until about a quarter of a mile in to get above nine-minute miles, as I weaved through runners, and around the odd piece of car shrapnel. There was a ‘gentle’ wind, which seemed like it was diagonally, a combination of a cross- and following-wind. More on this later. The bridge is quite a significant climb to its centre, which I had heard before from club-mates who had run the Severn Bridge Half Marathon, but it’s still something of a shock quite what a hill it forms. We actually went beyond the middle too, so started to drop gradually down the other side before the turnaround point.

Early on during a parkrun with the buggy, the greatest challenge can be not wiping out runners!

And then, oh boy. It was not a ‘gentle’ wind. As usual, what is a barely noticeable following wind turns into a horrible gale-force headwind. Okay… it wasn’t really that bad, but it sure felt it for a while, particularly when pushing what is, in essence, a rolling windbreak. I had been looking forward to the return leg, as it was mostly downhill, but the wind made it such hard work. Still, after passing the tail walker, I knew that I had the full width of the path at least! We continued back to the start point, and then followed the path down off the bridge and motorway to the underpass. In the damp conditions, this path was pretty slippery, though this was probably exacerbated by the fact that I was running sub-6 minute mile pace.

A sharp right turn at the bottom of the hill was followed by a (roughly) thirty metre dash to the finish line. Competitive Ben took over, and I out-sprinted someone to the finish to come in 39th at Severn Bridge’s 39th event. KK was pretty adamant that he wanted to get out of the buggy, which was fair enough, so we abandoned the buggy in the underpass, and went for a walk up to the bridge to cheer on Lolly and Lani when they came through. They’d taken somewhat longer, as they had apparently taken time to appreciate the alleged ‘stunning views’. I wouldn’t know, having spent my time focussing on running…

It can be quite intimidating when big lorries go past!

Severn Bridge parkrun was my (arbitrary) 150th parkrun, and Lani’s 10th, earning her membership of the 10 club, one that neither Lolly nor I were ever able to be in. The t-shirts are out of stock at the moment, but hopefully we’ll be able to order her one soon.

All done, we headed back to the café for post-parkrun breakfast. I’m pretty sure that Lani considers this the most important part of parkrun, and KK is quickly heading that way too. The clubhouse only offer bacon baps, so Lani and I opted for one of those each, while KK had a glass of orange juice. Lolly picked up a wrap from the Tesco up the road as we left, as she’s not too keen on meat at the moment.

Severn Bridge parkrun is well worth the trip, and has opened our eyes to the possibilities of hitting more Welsh parkruns, as many of these will be closer than a lot of the South West parkruns. But next up, we’ll be heading back down to Cornwall to tick off the last Cornish parkrun (for now) we haven’t done, but one we’ve wanted to do for a long time, because it looks stunning; Tamar Lakes parkrun.

Town Tree Trail: race report

by Ben

May and June are pretty relentless as far as Somerset Series races are concerned. The Wambrook Waddle and Town Tree Trail were back-to-back this year; Sunday/Wednesday. After a tough hilly race on Sunday, there were quite a few tired legs out there on Wednesday evening: mine included!

This was an interesting race for me; it was the first time since my switch to Minehead that I was taking part in a race with a significant presence from Running Forever. There were a few comments, in jest (I think!), about tripping me up, but I emerged unscathed!

While writing my report for the Wambrook Waddle, I was musing about my pacing tactics; specifically, I came to the conclusion that “at the moment I feel my best tactic is to push hard early and then try to hold on.” I noticed that at the Town Tree Trail last year, although I’d averaged 7:06 per mile, my first mile had been a 6:26. I thought about it some more, and decided that on a flat course, maybe it would be worth trying for a better pacing strategy. Maybe take things a bit easier early on, and have a more even pacing.

A few laps of the field with Matt and Will sufficed for a warm-up, before we then ambled around waiting for the start, which ended up being late. There was more or less a full course description in the pre-race briefing, during which I must admit I completely switched off.

The race

Starting on the front row probably wasn’t the best idea for a controlled start. I had Ali and Sam, both club-mates at Running Forever, just over my left shoulder; both were likely to be quicker than me. As we set off, I consciously avoided going with the leading pack, which Danny and Matt were both part of. Three-quarters of the way around the field though, I realised that Will was still behind me. Bugger; he’s quicker than me too. As we left the field, I glanced at my watch; 6:03 pace. Double bugger.

As we hared along the short stretch of road (and let’s be honest, given the silly pace, it definitely was ‘hared’), Ali and Sam eased past me, shortly followed by Will. Right – the pace might still be a tad too quick; I clocked about a 3:50 first kilometre, which is quicker than my average during my quickest-ever 5k, but at least I’d shuffled down to roughly the right spot.

Leaving the fields, we entered a stretch of fields. In contrast to the lonely race I had at the Wambrook Waddle, I was rarely without another runner during this race. Through this first field section, I had Sam about ten metres ahead, and Nick Brooke closing in behind me. My pace had dropped to something more sensible, and I was happy to tag on behind Nick when he passed me.

During the middle section of the race, it twists and turns around the Town Tree Nature Garden, which is a lovely landscaped garden open to the public year round. As a runner, it’s a pretty unique place to run, featuring a narrow paths around tight corners, including more than one complete 180 degree hairpin. We went over a small bridge which we later ducked under; there was a little waterfall feature we ran under, and countless arches made out of old horseshoes. Through all of this, I remained a couple of paces behind Nick, and now about the same ahead of another Series regular, Andrew Piper.

I was starting to have some concerns about the race distance; we had gone past the two mile marker a little while before entering the garden, and yet my watch bleeped for four miles while we still had a fair bit of the garden left to do. As far as I was aware, we would be following the same route back from the garden, which added up to more than 6.22 miles by my reckoning. I made a mental note to possibly expect a “long 10k”.

When we came back out of the garden, I was feeling pretty comfortable, and soon realised that this was due to the pace having dropped quite significantly. Feeling that I could push on, I opted to move past Nick, figuring that if nothing else, we could work together to keep a decent pace for the last couple of miles. Ahead, Sam had moved out of sight, but another runner was in view, and I felt that I might have a decent chance of catching him. For the next three-quarters of a mile, I was slowly reeling in the runners ahead. One, who was struggling, was passed quickly, while both a runner from (probably) Yeovil and Sam were getting closer.

And then, disaster. A stitch. I haven’t had a bad stitch while running for years, and this was quite an awkward time. Looking back, I was probably running more or less at my limit, and this was just a sign that maybe I’d pushed a little too hard. Or maybe it was something completely different, who knows. I had to drop off my pace a little; I could only take relatively shallow breaths, and although my legs were still miraculously strong, I just couldn’t push. When we got back to the road, with around a kilometre to go, Nick and Andrew cruised past me.

A smile hides the pain and frustration of my finish.

Having eased off my pace for a while, the pain lessened a bit, and I hoped that I could push on to get them back at the finish. I thought I was more or less maintaining the gap as we ran around the final recreation field that we’d started in, but when I looked at it honestly, I was slipping back. My focus switched to the runner closing in behind me, and I concentrated on running hard enough to keep my position, which I managed.

Post-race

I haven’t seen any results yet, but I’m guessing that I placed somewhere in the 20s, which isn’t awful for the Series. We’d been quietly hoping before the race that we might have a good chance at the men’s team prize, as I was likely to be the last of our four finishers. Unfortunately, for both our hopes of the team prize and himself, Danny busted his ankle in one of the fields and had to drop out just short of two miles in. Dammit Danny!

After grabbing a cold shower, I headed with Matt and Will for some food (a sausage roll (thanks Will!) and a donut). While we were eating, the race director came over as asked for our race numbers and approximate finish times as apparently some runners had been missed, and they were trying to work out where the gaps were. This delayed the presentation ceremony a bit!

It was a successful race for both my clubs; Matt got a trophy for being third overall, and Verity was third lady. Meanwhile for Running Forever, Sam was first female, while Ali took home the prize for first veteran male 50+. For me, no trophy, but a surprisingly quick run. Considering that last year I was running pretty well in May, I actually ran a quicker pace this year (though the added distance meant a slower overall time.) Along with a decent Wambrook Waddle race, I can hopefully build on these for the summer races, and maybe an autumn PB attempt at either 5k or 10k. Or both?

Did I enjoy this race? Actually, yes. I didn’t have particularly good memories of it from 2018; not that it had been bad, just that I’d felt it was a bit bland. But, yeah, I enjoyed it.
Would I do this race again? It’s in the Somerset Series, so yes, I expect so.
What’s next? Lolly will be running the Wells 10k on 26 May, then I think I’m doing the Crewkerne 10k on 2 June.

Wambrook Waddle: race report

by Ben

This is the third time I’ve run the Wambrook Waddle; I previously took part in 2017 and 2016, while Lolly ran it in 2015. Last year, it took place, but wasn’t part of the Somerset Series, so I gave it a miss.

Running hasn’t really come together for me this year. Am I running badly? No, not really. But am I running well? No, not really. I really, really, really want to break 40 minutes at 10k this year, but without a sustained period of decent training, it’s not going to happen. But anyway, that’s not what this post should be about. Suffice to say, that more or less as always, I’d have liked to be more prepared for this race.

This was the second race for my new club, and it sort of underlined part of the reason behind my switch; I was one of four from Minehead, while there was no one else from my old club there. Well, technically, Lolly was there, but she wasn’t running, just spectating! (Mostly stopping the kids from killing themselves, actually.) After a little pre-race potter about, we headed out for a warm-up, which included the field we would climb up at the end of the race. During this (in which I actually ran quicker up the hill than I would in the race) we discovered that the car park hadn’t been marshalled very well (at all), meaning that there were cars parked across the race route! Thankfully, the gaps were big enough to get through easily, but it was one to bear in mind for later…

More faffing about ensued for the next ten minutes before the race start: mostly I dumped my sweaty warm-up top on Lolly (I’m sure she appreciated it), and switched to my race vest. The pre-race briefing sensibly suggested not tripping over anything, and kindly reminded us that this was quite a hilly race. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much of a surprise for anyone!

… and GO!

I love the start to this race. A 600 metre dash downhill to a stream crossing. I started what felt like relatively conservatively, but ended up second behind only Matt. Not so conservative after all. I actually felt like I could have pressed a little bit quicker than Matt was going while remaining comfortable, but I opted not to be a complete prat, and stuck in behind him. I took a slightly different line to Matt through the stream… and it turned out to be completely the wrong one. I sunk down a lot more than I expected (and a lot more than Matt), and nearly fell in. As it was, my vest, head and arms were all soaked from the splash/sinking combination.

Immediately after the stream, the route follows the old adage; ‘what goes down, must come up’. Or whatever. I wasn’t surprised when people came streaming past me as we climbed the long hill (well, it felt like they came streaming past me, in reality I was still in 10th at the top of the hill.) I was completely prepared for this; much as I would love to say that I could pace properly, and be that guy who conserves his energy for the last push, it’s just not how I race. Maybe when I’m closer to peak fitness I will give it a go, but at the moment I feel my best tactic is to push hard early and then try to hold on. I’m aware that this is probably just a really bad idea.

As usual, in warm conditions after a slog up the hill, I was glad for the 1.25-mile drink station. The hill went on for a bit longer before the fiddly twists and turns through the wood at the top. Through this section I heard footsteps come up quite quickly behind me, but before the runner could get passed, the course dropped downhill again, and I was able to stay ahead. I maintained my slim advantage all the way downhill, until we reached about 2.5 miles into the race, and then he inevitably went past. And that, for all intents and purposes, was the end of my actual racing. I was in 11th place, and maintained exactly that position for the rest of the race. The end.

Okay, so it wasn’t quite that simple, as I still had another 3.7 miles to run. The immediate battle was the second climb of the race. I took a brief walk towards in the middle of the hill, but tried to push on as best as I could. Mostly because there were a couple of marshals on the hill, and I felt guilted into it! Another descent took us down to the third river crossing of the race, before easily my least favourite hill.

I don’t really know what’s so bad about it; looking on Strava, it doesn’t look the steepest of the hills, and it’s far from the longest. Maybe it’s partly the underfoot conditions. Probably, it’s just that it’s just barely over halfway through the race. Far enough in that I’m already knackered from the hills already run, but not far enough that I feel like I can push on through because I’m nearly finished. Thankfully, after the short, sharp climb through a field, the second drink station gives a handy excuse for a rest. The course continues to climb after, and I was able to see the runners both ahead and behind me. The gap looked similar each way, and I was a bit concerned that this meant I was slipping back into those behind me. I couldn’t do much about it at that stage though, I was struggling a bit with the hill, though it was a relatively friendly 1:10 or something.

From mile four, the course mostly runs through relatively flat fields until a couple of drops and climbs right at the end. A couple of fields into this stretch, not long after my watch beeped for four miles, I realised that I’d sunk into something of a plod. I made a conscious effort to drive my arms and generally ‘get a wriggle on’, otherwise I was definitely going to fall into the clutches of those behind me. (I could see a group of three; my club-mate Verity and two men.) Having sped up, I slowly built up the gap on that gap, and hoped that would dissuade any of them from making too much of an effort to catch me. Conversely, I briefly saw the group of three ahead of me; all three were Minster Milers runners. It looked like Ed had caught the two ahead of him, and I was hopeful that it meant they were struggling. As it turns out, they either sped back up, or it was something of an illusion, as they both finished around a minute ahead of him.

Although it had given me a brief impetus to speed up, it soon became apparent that I wasn’t going to catch anyone, and I settled back into a steadier pace, aware that I had another race coming up on Wednesday. In fact, I ended up running the last hill (though the car park field) slower than I’d done it during our warm-up.

A half-hearted attempt at a sprint-finish.

I had a lonely second half of the race; I finished in 11th, over 90 seconds behind Ed and 50 seconds ahead of the next runner. For the Somerset Series I was chuffed with an 11th place, and it was also a course PB by about 45 seconds, so I can’t really complain.

Did I enjoy this race? Yes. It’s really tough, because the hills kill you in the first half of the race, but this is the sort of race I love.
Would I do this race again? Again, yes. This is the third year I’ve run the race, and I’d love to do it again.
What’s next? The ‘Town Tree Trail 10k’ on Wednesday 15 May. I ran this last year, but didn’t blog about it. It’s off-road, but almost pancake flat, with some lovely twists and turns around the Town Tree Nature Garden.

Butleigh MT 10k: race report

by Ben

I previously ran this race in both 2017 and 2018, and described the course in the 2018 report, so I won’t go into too much detail again.

After starting my Somerset Series campaign last weekend at the BHAM Trail 10k, it was a back-to-back week of racing, with the Butleigh multi-terrain race coming the following weekend. In between, we had a week at Center Parcs, which was a lovely family holiday, but I’m not all that convinced that the nice meals out and the various activities were all that conducive to race preparation!

As I hadn’t signed up in advance, I arrived suitably early in order to register on the day. And by “suitably early”, I really mean far too early! It was basically just me and the marshals for about quarter of an hour. Registration (once it opened) was nice and straight-forward, and I was soon back in the car listening to a podcast while I waited for other people to arrive. Namely, Matt B, who was bringing my new club vest. A midweek transfer from Running Forever RC to Minehead RC had gone through somewhat quicker than I was expecting!

I’ll admit, pulling on the blue vest of Minehead felt pretty odd after five years of the red and white of Running Forever. (The vest is also a little too big, which is unfortunate. Maybe a hot wash or two?) Still, part of the reason that I made the switch was borne out at the race: there was one other Running Forever member, someone that I don’t know that well, compared to a group of seven of us from Minehead.

Race

Given my cold, I opted to take it pretty easy from the outset; though my splits don’t make it appear that way. I ran an almost identically paced first mile as in each of the last two years, but bear in mind that it was so much firmer this year. So while my time might have been about the same, the amount of effort required for that time was far less. In fact, over the first four miles, I was nearly 45 seconds quicker than last year. My final two miles brought me back to almost exact parity. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I let runners flow past me early on, content to run my own race. Unsurprisingly, because of the conditions, I ran a huge PB on the ‘Up to Reynolds Way’ Strava segment. In previous years, this has been a quagmire of a field, but this year, it was completely solid, resulting in a 26-second improvement. Despite this, it was one of the sections I struggled with; anything uphill meant that I slipped back. I soon found that while I could ‘cruise’ without too much issue, pushing that little bit harder just wasn’t possible, my chest didn’t allow me to step up that extra gear.

Looping around the first field. The t-shirt was possibly a bit of a mistake, but I was worried that if my run was quite slow, I might get cold.

I held pace through the middle section of the race, a combination of descents and flat fields, but the second, long, climb was a real struggle. I slipped back a few positions early on, and could hear more footsteps further up. I glanced back and saw a few runners behind me, but somehow I managed to only let one through. By this stage, around four and a half miles in, with around two to go (another long “10k”), my competitive instincts were straining. Although I was limited by my chest, I was no longer just taking it easy. I was pushing as much as I felt I could, trying to keep hold of positions if I could. I went past a runner that I’d been keeping pace with for a little bit, but then let a Langport runner through. I tried to match pace with the Langport runner, and found that I could do well enough. As the course dropped down out of the woods, I flew back past him again, but not for long, as he overtook me on the subsequent flat.

From there on, the final three-quarters of a mile, things stood pretty equal. The Langport runner eased away from me, while Verity (a fellow Minehead runner) was closing in behind me. I ended up beating her by a couple of seconds, but had the race gone on for another 50 metres, I wouldn’t have had much of a chance!

I need to work out the race number alignment thing…

The results haven’t been posted yet, so I don’t know what position I finished in. I normally wouldn’t have raced with a cold like this, but given that Lolly and I both want to complete the Somerset Series this year, we can’t really afford to miss too many. My position isn’t going to be amazing, but it’s a pretty small field, so hopefully it won’t have done too much damage. Importantly, that’s two races under my belt already, with another couple hopefully coming in May.

Did I enjoy this race? Today: not really, it wasn’t much of a “race” for me.
Would I do this race again? Yes. This was the third year in a row, and I can’t see any reason I won’t be back next year.
What’s next? The Wambrook Waddle on 12 May, which I raced in 2016 and 2017, and Lolly ran in 2015. Lolly has the Glastonbury 10k the week before, which she ran in 2015, and I ran in 2016. (She better get training!)

BHAM Trail 10k: race report

by Ben

The BHAM Trail 10k was a new one in the Somerset Series for this year. They had held their first event in 2018, but it had passed me by (and, who am I kidding, if it’s not in the Somerset Series, I’m not really interested!) BHAM Runners are based in Bower Hinton, Ash and Martock on the Somerset Levels. The Somerset Series already has two races in close proximity, the Ash Excellent Eight, and the Town Tree Trail 10k. The Tin Tin Ten, which is sadly no longer running, used to be just a couple of miles away too.

I hadn’t done a great deal of research before the race, but I did have a quick look at a Strava summary from someone that ran it last year, and discovered that while it was mostly flat (which is to be expected on the Levels) it did start with a downhill, and correspondingly finished uphill. Even so, it totalled less than 250 feet of elevation, so nothing too concerning there. Beyond that, I didn’t really know what to expect.

As usual, I’ll get my excuses in early. I’d been running well this year, building back towards full running fitness, which culminated with my 20:00 at the Street 5k in February. Unfortunately, shortly thereafter I fell over while running on the Quantocks. Then I got shingles. Then I got the diarrhoea and vomiting bug. Happy times. I ended up missing around five weeks of training, and have only had two weeks back so far.

Race day

Parking was a military operation; we were neatly squeezed into a little trading estate. It was a short walk from there to Bower Hinton Farm, which served as the Race HQ. It was a little disappointing that there only appeared to be one porta-loo (plus a porta-urinal). The pre-race instructions had mentioned that there were toilets at the car park, but when I asked the car park marshals, they directed me to the farm.

Timings meant that I ended up missing my warm-up, which was a little unfortunate, but ultimately, I’m not in the kind of form where it’s going to make much of a difference. (The link between warming up and injury reduction is inconclusive, but the links with improved performance are far more apparent.) The children’s race was ran at 9:30, before the adult race (due to start at 10:10) which meant that the race briefing for the 10k doubled up as the prize ceremony for the children’s races, which was a nice touch to make sure that the children got a good crowd. Awarding children model grenades was less suitable, I felt. I get the obvious link between a grenade and the cartoon BHAM! explosion logo that the club use, but while it is fine for the main 10k, it felt inappropriate for the children. But hey, call me Generation Snowflake.

Race

With the race briefing complete, we bimbled over to the start line. It quickly became apparent that there weren’t that many of the typical front-runners. This wasn’t too surprising, as the race was held on the same day as the Taunton Half Marathon. Despite my expectations of struggling somewhat, I lined up in the second row from the front, and with little fanfare, we were set off.

Burnham’s Matt Powell was chuffed with a front-row start! Credit: Derek McCoy

After a short and relatively inconsequential climb, we dropped downhill for the first half mile of the race, and I mostly just let myself off the leash to have fun. The initial back-and-forth position changes went on as we worked ourselves out, but I quickly shuffled into tenth. A top-ten finish would be great, but I didn’t much fancy my chances of holding onto it. The early stages of the race involved a number of narrow muddy paths which were pretty slippery after the recent rain, and I could hear the footsteps closing in behind me as we navigated them. The narrowness of the paths meant that the runners behind couldn’t pass me, and I gained a bit more ground as we crossed a couple of stiles shortly after.

The stiles marked the beginning of the more traditional fare for a race on the Levels; running around the edges of fields. With this came plenty of room for passing, and it wasn’t long before I’d dropped a couple more positions into twelfth. At this stage, around a mile-and-three-quarters in, I was worried that the rest of the race might be a slow progression of other runners easing past me, but despite regular and frequent glances over my shoulder, I seemed to be holding onto twelfth okay.

After the early mud, most of the rest of the course was relatively firm through the fields. At around the three-mile mark, we came out onto the road for a few hundred metres before turning off, back into another field. That was the only significant road section of the race; another couple lasted less than a hundred metres each. The field after was perhaps the toughest section of the race. It was horribly uneven and leg-sapping: I can only imagine how much worse it would have been with a bit more rain!

More fields, more stiles, all good stuff. The aid station (which was somewhere during all this, I really can’t remember where), was dubbed the ‘Claire Station’ as all the volunteers there were named Claire. I didn’t take a drink; I was struggling a little, but water wasn’t going to do much! The only significant climbs of the race were both at the end; a climb up to a residential area on the edge of Bower Hinton at just over five-and-a-half miles, which wasn’t too bad, and then another at about six-and-a-quarter miles, which was.

Yes, six-and-a-quarter miles. This was a long 10k. So long in fact that it was closer to 11k! I had continued to glance over my shoulder, but the expected rush of runners passing me hadn’t happened. Until that last hill. Nicknamed ‘Cripple Hill’, it certainly had the expected effect on me. After managing to run the lower section, I ground to a walk soon after the cheering spectators. I felt nauseous, faint, all the great stuff. It felt like I was walking forever; a pair of runners went past me, and then a third just as I got back up to a jog. I managed to drag a sprint finish out of the reserves to get myself back into fourteenth at the end.

Flying feet during my brief sprint to regain 14th. Credit: the Burke family

A nice medal and goody bag awaited at the finish. A couple of biscuits, a bag of Haribo and a drinks bottle, along with a good quality medal made this race great value at £12. The good value continued at the cake stall: two cakes for 50p, plus a hot drink for the same again – bargain! We hung around long enough for Matt B to receive his bronze grenade for third place. It turns out that if you press the lever, it beeped and made an exploding noise!

Overall, I summarised this race on my Instagram post: “Harder than it should have been today, but to be honest, that’s just the difference between where my head thinks I should be, and where my fitness currently is. Nice course, but leg-sapping terrain in parts. Can’t complain at 14th overall, 13th male. Somerset Series campaign started.“

Did I enjoy this race? Yes.
Would I do this race again? Absolutely.
What’s next? The Butleigh MT 10k next Sunday, which I ran in both 2017 and 2018.