Tag Archives: Devon

Run Exe Winter 5: race report

by Ben

Within reason, I’m racing more or less anything I can find at the moment, given the dearth of races. But that said, this race was organised by City Runs, who I’ve always heard good things about, and was along Exmouth promenade, which is as flat as you can get. As an added bonus (of sorts) I’ve never raced a 5 miler before, so it was a guaranteed PB!

The race did have two potential downsides: it was on a Tuesday evening, and racing is always slightly tougher in the evening; and Exmouth promenade is very exposed to the weather, so if there was any wind, it would have an impact on my race.

This event was a trial race, ahead of a planned monthly series. My current running is all based around improving my 10k time, and a 5-mile race is a great substitute for the 10k distance, so hopefully I can get as many of these done as possible to benchmark my progress (weather and Covid-depending, of course).

Race day

Things worked out quite conveniently, and I was actually doing a training course at home on race day, which meant that I wasn’t as exhausted as I might have ended up. It also meant that I was a bit more in control of what and when I ate, so really I had close to ideal preparation. I took my weekend runs pretty easy ahead of the race, and was rewarded with the rarely seen “Peaking” from my Garmin: result!

I headed down in plenty of time, and arrived on the promenade about 50 minutes before my start time. The race was organised into waves of six runners, each released a minute apart. I was in the fourth wave, giving me a 7:03 start time. I had a little wander around, used the toilet, and then warmed up along the course, just to get a feel for the route. (Sure, it was just along the promenade, but it was also getting pretty dark, so I wanted to check out how good the pavement was and stuff…)

The race was twice out-and-back along the promenade, so each leg was 1.25 miles. The wind had died down from earlier in the day, and was also coming off the sea, which meant that for most of the course it was a cross-wind, rather than a headwind, though it did feel slightly against you on each of the “back” parts of the course.

Race

Soon enough, it was time to get into my ‘race pen’. Each pen was coned off with plenty of space for six people to socially distance, and the race rules also meant that we had to wear a face covering until 30 seconds before we started. I opted for a buff, which I then put onto my wrist as a sweatband, which I tend to wear anyway.

3-2-1-GO: It soon became clear that I didn’t want to run as fast as the other guys in my group, and I let them move away from me. I was still dragged along a little quicker than I should have been, I probably went through the first quarter of a mile averaging sub-6 minute miles, which is far too fast for me. But, I regained a bit of discipline, and brought my pace back under control within the first mile.

I started passing slower runners from the earlier waves within about half a mile, and not much later I, in turn, started to be passed by quicker runners from later waves. Although this was quite odd, constantly passing and being passed by other runners, it did mean that it was rare to be alone for long during the race.

My first mile came in a little bit quicker than I had been aiming for: 6:26. My expectation was that something around 6:30 would be about the quickest I would manage. Even though there was only a slight wind, I planned to focus on good “out” legs, to try and offset any time-loss in the “back” legs.

According to Strava, I slotted into a decent rhythm for the rest of the race. It felt like it was just getting harder and harder, and my pace was falling off a cliff, but actually, it was pretty perfect. I clocked through the middle three miles in 6:32, 6:34 and 6:33. Honestly, I don’t think I could have hoped for any better, even if it felt like my legs were going to fall off. I absolutely did not realise how well it had gone until I got home and checked Strava: I even told Lolly that I’d run a horrible positive split. (In fact, I ran a to-the-second-perfect even split.)

The second lap was quieter than the first, but there were still plenty of other runners about, going in both directions, so the race was never lonely. I had seen the “race leaders” during my first “back” leg; they had started in the final wave, and I wondered if they would catch up with me. Some quick mental maths suggested that they probably wouldn’t. Spoiler: I was wrong.

I was starting to really feel the exhaustion in my legs during the final mile. The start/finish end of the course was not that well lit for long sections, and by this point, there were few to no runners heading back the other way. Then, with around a third of a mile left, the lead (well, not exactly) bike passed me: “Keep left, lead runners coming through.”

The finish area was exceptionally well lit!

The combination of the bike, and then the runners gave me an injection of pace, allowing me to be dragged along behind them slightly. Sure, they were running over a minute per mile quicker than me, so I couldn’t actually keep up with them, but it still gave me that push (well, pull) when I needed it. I completed the final mile in 6:31, to finish in 33:00 exactly. (Sure, my mile times don’t add up to 33:00: my GPS tracked 5.07 miles, so there are another 23 seconds, but whatever.)

Summary

Before the race I’d used McMillan Running to work out some decent race paces.

My recent 10k PB at the Power Run 10k had been 41:57 in windy conditions: that was equivalent to 33:30, so that had been my minimum target: Done.
The next target at 10k, which had been my target at the Power Run 10k was 41:00, that was the equivalent of 32:44: Not done: target for the next race.
The ultimate target of my current 10k training is 39:59, which is the equivalent of 31:56: Not done: target by the end of the winter, maybe?

Did I enjoy this race? Yes, definitely.
Would I do this race again? Yes, definitely.
What’s next? Probably the next of these. I had another race cancel, the Big Cheese, a 15-mile hilly trail race, so I guess my training now can be completely focused on this flat and fast stuff.

Power Run 10k @ Exeter Racecourse: race report

by Ben

Turns out that this is a bit of a long one, sorry about that…

In January of this year, I ran the Waves on the Prom 5k, and three days later, I also ran the Storm Force 10. It turns out, three days is the shortest span I’ve ever had between two races. I didn’t expect it to be another eight months (to the day) before I ran another race: the longest span I’ve ever had between two races. The reason for this is obvious (in case you are reading this years later for some odd reason, it was the Covid pandemic). I had a few races booked, but they, like most, were cancelled.

I had some ankle issues in February/March, and was then furloughed at the start of April. I then went through a pretty inconsistent patch: I’d have a few good weeks, then a couple of weeks when I really couldn’t be bothered and barely got out. That sort of pattern continued for a while, until I picked up another niggly injury around June. Finally though, I strung some consistency together: 113 miles in July and 130 in August, never dropping below a 25-mile week since the start of July.

I looked around, fancying a crack at my 10k PB, the lowest-dangling fruit of my collection of PBs: 42:06 set at the 2017 Chard Flyer. I had come close twice in 2019, running 42:23 at the Pawlett Plod, shortly followed by 42:28 at the Wessex 10k. I found the Power Run 10k advertised at Exeter Racecourse, and set myself a crash four-week training plan to hone my speed.

Okay, so the training plan was actually just an adaptation of Runner’s World’s 4-week 10k training for 5 days a week. It mostly involved dropping the mileage of my long run from what I had been doing (around the half-marathon distance) and focusing more on quality mileage. I stuck to the interval sessions, but a lot of the other runs got adapted to fit in with life better.

Race-day

I wondered what affect socially-distanced racing would have on my day. I was definitely more nervous pre-race than I normally would be, although that might have been the combination of the period of time since my last race, combined with the pressure and expectation of going for a PB time. (The last time I beat a PB was actually that 2017 10k…)

The race instructions were great: very clear on what would happen, and what was expected of runners. There would be no water station, so bring your own water. It was three and a third laps of the race course service road. The start would be a mass rolling start, to avoid us all standing close together in a pack. Each race would have multiple waves, so only restricted numbers of runners would be on the course at a time. Come ready to run, collect your own medal after. Very stripped back.

I arrived about 45 minutes before the race was due to start. I was directed into the car park: “Park wherever you like, but leave an empty space between you and the next car. The toilets are over there..” Yes, that was my next stop. On the way back I had a bit of a chat with Chris, another RFRC member who had run in the first wave. He gave me some useful information: the wind is horrible, and it is hillier than you might think.

Okay: my initial target had been to run something around 41 minutes. I had always hoped to take it easy early on and then assess it, but hearing about the course cemented that in my mind, especially given I was out of practice at the whole racing thing.

The chat was useful, but it also meant that I ended up running a bit late. Normally I aim to warm-up for about fifteen minutes, but I had to make do with an abbreviated seven minutes – that’ll teach me for chatting too long!

Race

At the start, we were funnelled into three files approached the line: I was in the second row from the front, as everybody else had declared that they were too far forwards, and dropped back. As we shot off, I made a concerted effort NOT to shoot off too fast, while also bearing in mind that the pace gap would be much smaller than usual: the sub-40 guys were in later wave. A few people went past me, and I settled in around eighth or ninth. Through the first kilometre, I let a gap grow between me and the leading pack, while inadvertently, I also developed a gap from the group behind me, leaving me somewhat in no man’s land. Great.

I was glad of my chat with Chris for the mental preparation: on the far side of the lap, it dropped down a dip, and then rose back up to our starting position. At the start of the second lap, turning onto the main straight revealed a horrible headwind during the gentle ascent. I hadn’t noticed it first lap, probably through a combination of the pack ahead of me, and early-race adrenaline. The pack ahead of me started to break up, and runners fell back towards me. Each runner gave me a little target, but I knew it was still important for me to be disciplined and run my own race.

Consistent pacing was impossible with an undulating course and a steady headwind along the finishing straight. There was also the slight oddity that the dip on the other side of the course was slightly protected from the wind, and so felt quite hot under the sun – such variety in a 3 km loop! I concentrated on strong, consistent effort, albeit with a slight increase during the descent, figuring that it played to my strengths and was the least sapping part of the course to press a little harder.

I passed the halfway stage, 5 km, in around 20:30, which told me that a 41-ish finishing time was out of the window, and I immediately began readjusting my thoughts for something around 42, if I could hold on for that.

I never used to be too keen on multi-lap courses, or at least the idea of them. But touring around so many parkruns has got me used to the concept, and honestly, it was quite nice today. After the first lap, I was able to plan better, knowing where I would lose and gain time. Each kilometre marker I set myself a target time to reach the next marker, bearing in mind whether it was a faster or slower part of the course. I not only considered how quickly I thought I could cover that section, but also what that would leave me needing in the remainder of the race: ‘If I reach 8 km in 33 minutes, I have nine minutes to do that final two kilometres, that should be doable.’

I worked my way through the field, and entered the final lap fourth in the wave: the chap in first was way ahead, but both second and third seemed to be falling back towards me. I closed in on third and passed him through the dip, as we hit 8 km: 33:05. I started to push from here; normally 2 km would be a little too far out, but I knew that most of the last kilometre would just be about holding on into that headwind, so if I was going to make an impact, it was now.

I pressed as the course rose out of the dip and along the back straight, and ran that penultimate kilometre in 4:04, closing the gap significantly on the guy in second. I continued to close in as we rounded the bend onto the home straight, a roughly 600 metre stretch to the finish. I tucked in behind him to shield myself from the wind, hoping to draft for a while before moving out towards the end, depending on how our time was looking.

Even behind him, the wind felt horrible, but I also felt like I had more to give. The pace felt like it was slowing too much, and I stepped out from behind him. Oh, okay, that’s definitely worse. I tucked back in. We passed the ‘400 m to go’ board with just under two minutes in hand. That should be easy enough?!

I stepped out again, but again, I couldn’t make an impression, and tucked back in. We were both getting quicker now: whether he reacted to my move, or it was just the closing push, I don’t know. Either way, I felt pretty sure we’d make it in under 42 minutes. In the final 20-30 metres, I moved into a gentle sprint, as did he: maybe if we had genuinely been battling over second, I could have pushed for an all-out sprint and beaten him, but it didn’t really matter. He finished in 41:55, and I finished in 41:57, officially a nine-second PB.

Post-race

I grabbed my medal, and chatted to a few of the other finishers, during which we mostly commiserated each other on the wind. On the way home, I stopped for McDonalds at the very handy restaurant which is less than a mile from the race course: great post-race fuelling!

Forgive the poor quality – it’s a screenshot of my Instagram story…

I’m pretty chuffed with the effort. Although I ended up around a minute slower than my vague target, I think that on a flatter, less windy course, I would have easily achieved that. I ran strong, and with a consistent effort that I maintained to the finish. I ran the first lap in 12:25, the second in 13:00, and the third in 12:50; then it was just the horrible final drag to the end.

Now I’m just champing at the bit for an opportunity to prove that I can run faster, and finally beat the 10k distance PB that I set during the 2016 Great Bristol Half Marathon.

Did I enjoy this race? Yes, definitely.
Would I do this race again? Yes, probably.
What’s next? No idea. I’m signed up for The Big Cheese (which I ran before, back in 2017), but I might find something else before then. Or… a second wave might put an end to races for the year.

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…

parkrun tourism: Tamar Trails parkrun

by Lolly

Since running at Torbay Velopark back in July, Tamar Trails parkrun has been the only event in Devon, and the only event south-west of Taunton, that we had yet to complete. And so in an attempt to rectify this, and have a family weekend away in a beautiful location at the same time, we made our very first Airbnb booking for the weekend at the end of half term.

During the week, it became clear that the weather fairies would not be in our favour, with weather warnings for wind and rain appearing across the South West. We arrived in Gunnislake on the Friday evening in less than desirable conditions, and spent the evening watching the ever-growing parkrun cancellations list. By the time we went to bed only two events in the extended area were still hoping to go ahead – Eden Project and… Tamar Trails.

After spending the night listening to rain hammering down, I was convinced that it was going to be cancelled on the day. So it was a bit of a shock at 7:50 when I refreshed my Facebook feed and saw that it was actually going ahead. Happily we were staying only a 5 minute drive (or 1 mile run if you don’t have two small children and a buggy) away. We easily found the car park, and after a slight panic on arrival realised we could pay for the parking by phone (disorganised family strikes again).

Family preparing to run — Ok, so not our best picture, but you should see the other attempts…

Tamar Trails parkrun is set, unsurprisingly, at Tamar Trails, which is a network of trails amongst the forest designed for cycling, running, walking and other outdoor activities. From the car park we followed the other runners towards the start – I believe we may have taken a longer route due to a fallen tree, but definitely allow a little time to get there. The run brief covered all the essentials – conditions underfoot were wet and muddy, course was mostly downhill except a kick at 2k and then 4k onwards. Everyone who ever speaks about Tamar Trails talks about the hill at the end, so that wasn’t much of a surprise.

We were all prepped for storm conditions, with KK kicking the unfamiliar rain cover and Lani wearing her splash suit over her running kit (“but how will they see my 10 top?”), but as we set off in the dry I wondered if we’d gone over the top. There were puddles right from the start, but the terrain was fairly solid as everyone worked into the correct positions. We’d decided way ahead of time that Ben would run with Lani and I’d have the buggy, and while Ben had offered to swap when we saw the conditions I decided it was a good opportunity to face some demons.

We quickly got to a short section of puddle-covered mud. The puddles were clearly the safest parts to run on, and while I slowed down both the buggy and I got through intact. I realised that running by myself I’d likely have tiptoed through that section, and so the 3 extra points of contact with the ground, along with pigheadedness, clearly did me some good. I later found out that Lani had completely lost her footing here, and if it wasn’t for Ben holding her hand she’d have faceplanted and their run would have been over near the start.

And then the storm appeared. Any thoughts of having over-dressed the kids were replaced with parental guilt, as the heavens opened and the visibility dropped. It was just a case of focus on how pretty the trees were and try to keep going – particularly as I’d forgotten my watch and so had no clue how far through I was.

The trees opened up, and the views and terrain changed to an old mine. I was surprisingly happy to see a hill (particularly given I had to walk it) as it meant we must be around 2k. There was a rare sighting of some marshals halfway up the hill, but with the rocky conditions I wasn’t even going to try to run past them. The views at the top were spectacular, if a bit hazy through the rain. As we re-entered the trees I saw some signs off to one side, which Ben later explained were markers for mountain bike routes.

A view of hills and trees — Ben took this later in the day; there was less visibility when we ran. Also, Lani pushed Ben into that puddle.

The next section was back to tree-lined trail path. I was lucky as despite the small turnout I was running near a couple of guys, so didn’t feel like I was going it alone. A marshal appeared in view down the path, and a glance to the left revealed we were about to be pointed round a hairpin to a big descent.

Long-time readers of this blog will know that off-road downhills are my biggest weakness. What makes them even harder is having a buggy that is determined to get down as fast as possible. Mostly I did a lot of quad-braking to try to remain in control. At one point I got a bit concerned, so gripped on the handbrake only to realise that when the wheels are wet and muddy that achieves nothing. Happily at that moment the trees opened up, and I saw the path was straight at the bottom of the hill, so I was able to stretch out and nearly enjoy the last bit of down.

And so we carried on along the trail paths, until reaching the marshal who pointed the way to the much-foretold final kilometre. I immediately slowed to a walk, and it has to be said it wasn’t the fastest of walks. The two guys quickly overtook me, as I had to squat down to get power to push the buggy. On a tarmac path it would have been fine, but this was pretty rocky, slippy off-road and so a whole other beast. A woman went past me, hobbling slightly but very complimentary about my efforts.

parkrun volunteers at the finish — Truly heroic hi-viz

Eventually the path veered to the right and flattened off, and I very much enjoyed stretching my legs to the end. Tip for parkruns everywhere – however tough your course is if you give people a good chance to sprint finish they’ll love it. The very soggy finish volunteers were super supportive. I checked my phone and had nothing from Ben, which meant they were still out on the course (as oppose to dropped out in the cafe).

Despite all the rocks, KK had fallen asleep in the buggy, so I stayed and chatted to the volunteers, cheering the next two runners in. And then a shout came out that the tail walker had been spotted. I looked down the path and saw the unmistakable pink of Lani’s splash suit, her trademark finish acceleration kicking in as soon as she spotted me.

A man and girl run on a forest path — I spy with my little eye, something beginning with L

It was a short walk down the path to barcode scanning, and then we continued across the car park to the cafe. Bacon rolls, toasted teacake, and a massive piece of victoria sponge were all very much enjoyed, before we headed back to our Airbnb to fight over the shower.

Although the weather was clearly not ideal, we all ended up having a great time visiting. The Autumn leaves, while slippy, were beautiful to see. The route was fairly straight forward to follow, but a few more signs would have been nice to confirm you’re still going the right way – particularly when running slowly it’s easy to notice every small path off to the side and wonder if you were supposed to take it.

It’s definitely a trail shoe course, and very much falls under the category of buggyable as opposed to buggy friendly. This was by far the hardest buggy run I’ve done to date, and has been a big confidence booster. Very much recommend it, just try not to go during a storm.

And so with Devon now complete, we’ve run every parkrun south-west of Taunton. And we will maintain this target for all of a week, until the next event in that direction starts this Saturday. Lots more family parkrun adventures await!

parkrun tourism: Torbay Velopark parkrun

by Lolly

In our never-ending quest to conquer the South West region, Torbay Velopark has started to stand out as being merely a few minutes over an hour away. There was a reason we hadn’t been yet. When the event first started, early reports were of it being unsuitable for buggies due to waterlogging. Then we decided to go just the two of us, but got caught in traffic and went to Exmouth instead. But we heard on the grapevine that ground conditions are pretty much perfect for buggies right now, so decided it was time to make the trip.

Torbay Velopark parkrun is, perhaps unsurprisingly, based at Torbay Velopark, which is an outdoor closed road circuit used primarily for cycling. More surprisingly, if you don’t know the area, is that it is in Paignton, as Torbay is actually the council area and not the name of a town (Ben will laugh when he reads this, but I genuinely had to Google it as I got so confused). It’s attached to a Leisure Centre, and so is signposted from a little way out. The course page lists Clennon Valley car park by name, which was pretty handy in finding where we needed to be.

Having left home when planned, we had a smooth journey and so arrived in plenty of time to get set up and visit the leisure centre toilets. Runners were clearly visible gathering in the entrance to the Velopark, and the kids were able to have a bit of a run around and play. Ben was still wrestling sun cream onto Lani as the call went out for first timers, so as is traditional only half of us went to it. I didn’t catch much (some tourists bizarrely went over for the briefing but then talked through it), but I did hear that the course was two laps of the Velopark, one lap of a big field, and a lap of a small field.

The briefing location meant that we pretty much just turned on the spot to line up at the back of the field for the start. There were a big group of Couch to 5k graduates near us, which lifted the atmosphere. Lani and I were wearing new leggings, and we were already getting lots of positive comments from our fellow runners. We actually heard the start (yay), and set off around the Velopark. The high quality tarmac surface made for very easy running, and the meadow-like surroundings helped make it feel less like running on tarmac.

The shape of the circuit meant we quickly had people going past in the other direction, which always adds to the community feeling. Lani wasn’t quite feeling it, and so our run/walk balance was a bit more in favour of walking. We ended up skipping, which got some nice comments from people lapping us that really helped lift the mood. Then I spotted that Ben was on track to lap us, and suddenly we were running.

The second lap round the Velopark was actually really nice. Lani enjoyed knowing that everyone she could see was on the same lap as her, and I really appreciated the different views in different directions. Facing inland gave a surprisingly spectacular view of the houses staggered higher and higher up the hill. Having stopped to take a stone out her shoe, Lani was pretty determined to make some places back up.

Finishing our second lap, we turned right to join the path down towards the field, getting high-fives from Ben and KK on the way. The path was similar to parts of Longrun Meadow, with lots of loose rocks in places. Then we reached the field, and to the excitement of my running buddy were then on good quality grass. The path around the edge of the field was well marked out with cones. Like most field sections, there was good visibility that meant lots of other runners were in sight. Or ‘targets’, as I think my increasingly determined 5 year old was viewing everyone.

Having run round the main bit of the field (and made up several more places), we reached the start of the loop for the smaller field. The marshal at this point was fantastic, giving us loads of support and making the effort to give Lani a much-appreciated high-five. There was a (very) short stretch of trail path through trees, which opened out into the (very) small field. The big surprise here was the hill. Sure, it was a small one, but the rest of the course had been flat.

We took the option of walking up the hill, but got our aeroplane arms out to zoom back down the other side of the field (and pass some more people), before making the sharp turn back out towards the main field. The marshal was fantastic again, giving a great boost for the last section of field. Ben and KK were waiting for us at the start of the path. Lani didn’t even mention the surface this time, as she sped up to the finish. Overtaking a group of people just before the line, naturally.

Barcode scanning was easily located a little further down the path, as was the parkrun photo frame. In a break from recent habit, we skipped the café and headed straight back to the car. The long drive of about 5 minutes round the corner took us to Paignton Zoo, where we had a fantastic family day out.

Torbay Velopark is well and truly in my happy parkrun memories section. I loved the course, which had a bit of something for everyone – although Ben said that with the buggy he’d have happily just kept going round the Velopark. The community atmosphere was fantastic. Oh, and Lani smashed her PB by over 2 minutes! A great parkrun experience to start a great family day out. And we’re already planning to go back at the start of next year.

But until then, we’ve got more events to visit. When we first decided we wanted to be regionnaires there were 33 events in the South West (one of which has sadly finished) and we’d done 7 of them. We’ve now done 40 out of 60. So while our quest may be never-ending, we’ve already come an awfully long way. Now, where to next?

Red Bull Steeplechase: race report (catch-up part two)

by Ben

My catch-up quest continues! Three more races to get through, starting with a big one (literally):

Red Bull Steeplechase – 18 June

This was one of my favourite races of 2016, and when I saw that it was coming back to Exmoor for a second year, I couldn’t resist. Despite the huge hike in price. In 2016, I’d been pretty close to making it through the second checkpoint, and onto Lynton, but I missed out by a couple of minutes. I was itching for the chance to go further. Of course, then we had a baby, didn’t get enough sleep to train properly, and I came to realise that even equalling last year’s effort would be a fair achievement! This race also happened in what was pretty much the hottest weather I have ever run in. So not ideal… (Getting my excuses in early.)

The race started at 9:30, which I had figured would be one small mercy with the weather. Except that the day before the race, I was doing some gardening at 9:30, and it was already baking hot, so there would be no respite. I mostly tried to stay out of the sun before the race started, and made sure I drank plenty. I also toyed with my race tactics – namely my plan for the start. Last year I was surprised by the pace of the start – we did the first half mile at around 5k pace, as it went through the street (singular) of Lynmouth and then hit a bottleneck at the coastal path.

Ultimately, I decided to take it a bit easier in the heat, and then slowly pick my way through the field later on when it was wider. I then completely ignored this plan, and pelted it through Lynmouth at what Strava suggests was pretty much exactly the same pace as last year. After that quick half mile, we then had a slow half mile of hill climbing. Very slow in fact. The first half mile took about three minutes. The other half took about eight minutes. But, important detail, that was the first horrible climb completed.

After that first hill, things level off for a time, and I could just run. Each mile was slower than 2016, but between the training and the heat, it was still feeling pretty tough. Very tough in fact. About six and a half miles in, running alongside the River Heddon, I stopped for a drink station. Credit to Red Bull: there were lots of drinks stations, and they were very well stocked with bottles of water and cups of Red Bull or a water/Red Bull mix. When I say that I stopped, I really mean it. In a knockout race, I, along with two others I’d been running along with, came to a complete stop to drink a complete 500 ml bottle of water. Such was the heat, and such was the knowledge of the hill to come.

But now, some good news! The marshal at the drink station asked if we’d done it last year. Yes, we all had. Well, he said, that horrible hill climb through the scrub? Not there. Instead we’d turn left and head up the coast path instead. Great!

For some context. These two “struggling” runners came first and fourth. This is how hard the course is.

No, it bloody wasn’t.

It turns out that when you’re at 120 ft, and the checkpoint is at 815 ft, there isn’t really an “easy” option. In 2016, we had one horrible climb, and then a gentler ascent up the road to the checkpoint at about 8.7 miles. This year, the climb up rugged terrain just seemed to go on forever, and the first checkpoint wasn’t until 9.4 miles. On the two intermediate checkpoints, I’d been 110th and 108th, but I knew I’d dropped places heading up the never-ending hill and was 113th. Considering my expectations, I was surprised at how highly I was placed – in 2016, I’d been 128th through the first checkpoint.

Through the second section of the race, things became more lonely as the field spread out, and I was really starting to struggle in the heat. There aren’t really any flat sections of the route, and I was taking frequent walking breaks. Where in 2016 I’d been cheerily acknowledging walkers and those around me, this time I was grunting and hoping for it all to be over. The course was beautiful, the scenery stunning. But my body wasn’t really up for it, and I didn’t cope with the heat very well. Amazingly, I finished in exactly the same position, 110th in both 2016 and 2017. But whereas in 2016, I was only 2:44 behind 100th, this time I was 5:41 behind.

Some other comparisons; last year it cost £30, this year £45. Last year, there were 281 men and 96 women. This year 198 men and 93 women. I fear that the race might have to either move again, or consider the price. It’s an expensive race to put on, and Red Bull do a hell of a lot to make it worthwhile. The drinks (as I said) were well stocked, there was a free “runner’s lunch”, this year it was a pasty, followed by a cream tea. The hoodie from last year had been downgraded to a cotton tee though. And yet again, despite photographers and videographers all over the course, there were no participant photos, just a “pool” of about 15 shots available to the press. To me, this was the most disappointing aspect. Red Bull could get lots more publicity and marketing exposure by making the photos available, with big Red Bull logos in the corner. We’d have shared them on social media, especially given the amazing backdrop. But there was nothing.

All that said, if the race is back on Exmoor again next year… you know, I’d probably do it again: I really want to get to Lynton, and get the train down the cliff.

Right. This was meant to be all three race reports, but I got a bit carried away with the Steeplechase! Look out for part three…