Monthly Archives: May 2015

Being part of the parkrun family

by Ben

Just about 19 months ago, two things happened. First, our daughter was born. Second, I went to parkrun for the very first time. While I can hardly equate one to the other, it is fair to say that both have changed my life in a big way.

I suspect that my dear daughter was probably asleep at this point…

This weekend, after a frustrating four months of injury, I finally ran my 50th parkrun, joining a burgeoning club of people with the dedication to get up and run on a Saturday morning. (Or, as in my own case, with a small child that won’t let them stay in bed anyway.) Along the way, I’ve made a great many friends, and set and then broken lots of PBs. I’ve marshalled, tail ran, timed and scanned barcodes. I’ve run with my daughter in a buggy, I’ve run as a reindeer, and I’ve run in a bright pink dress.

Running at parkrun has brought a focus, and a “reset” button into my running. I have a benchmark that I can always come back to and see how I’m doing. If I’ve had a bad week, and not managed to get out much, then the habit of going to parkrun gets me back going again.

Despite all these personal benefits, parkrun hasn’t just been about me though: Lolly has run 21 times, and officially volunteered on 11 occasions. Even when she hasn’t officially been helping, she has often taken photos, or just turned up to cheer everyone along. My daughter is perhaps better known at Longrun Meadow than I am: she has grown up as part of the parkrun family, though it will be a couple more years yet before she can run herself. I’ve dragged along friends from football, and my brother, to run. My parents have turned up to watch and cheer, and my father-in-law marshalled on Christmas Day, while my mother-in-law chased my daughter around!

Amongst those 50 runs are a few tourist appearances, at Telford, Killerton, Yeovil and Pomphrey Hill. Hopefully we can get around and explore a few more this year – each one has been just as fun and friendly as Longrun Meadow.

After my landmark run on Saturday, during which Lolly marshalled, we were back in the park bright and early Sunday morning for something new. (Well, I was there bright and early anyway: Lolly arrived a few minutes later after completing her week’s long run.) This weekend saw the launch of a new junior parkrun at Longrun Meadow, and happy to help out, Lolly and I both volunteered to marshal.

For those that don’t know, junior parkrun is aimed at children aged 4-14, and takes place on a 2 km route. Although the main parkrun has the same lower age range, it is obviously a lot more realistic for a 4 year old to complete 2 km, rather than 5 km. One of the aims of junior parkrun is to get children running independently, so unlike parkrun itself, all the children can run without an accompanying adult. Because of this, many more marshals are needed for the course: in contrast to the five marshals needed on the two-lap 5 km course, the junior parkrun course used thirteen.

Longrun can get quite… damp.

We were asked to marshal at points three and four, handily, only ten or twenty metres apart, due to the kinks of the course. For the trial run the week earlier, 53 children had taken part, and the Run Director had her fingers crossed for double that. When they charged past us, it was clear that her goal had been more than met. First the older children stormed around. (I’m honestly unsure whether I could match the winning time; I’m going to give it a go soon!) After them came a massive group, followed by a tail of younger children, mostly with their parents. They just seemed to go on and on and on, while the enthusiasm and excitement on show was infectious. Once we’d been stood down by the tail runner, we wandered back to the start/finish, where we were met with a wall of sound: if parkrun is a warm friendly hug of an event, junior parkrun was a massive bear hug of encouragement.

In all honesty, we’d only intended to help out with junior parkrun this first time, and then in times when they were in dire need, but the sheer exuberance of the event is addictive. We haven’t signed up to volunteer again yet, but I think we’ll be back sooner rather than later. Next week, my rehab/training plan means that I won’t be running parkrun… but I’ll definitely still be there!

Wambrook Waddle

by Lolly

It’s very easy to get pace-obsessed with running. Particularly at times when things are going well and improvements are very visible. But always focussing on your watch takes away some of the simple pleasures of running, and can lead to disappointment. After a string of PBs, I needed to slow down and forget about my finish time. Time to hit the trails then…

The Wambrook Waddle is an off-road 10k through private land in, you guessed it, Wambrook, Somerset. That was pretty much all I knew about it when I signed up. That and the fact you have to go through a river. Pictures of people making a splash somehow made it all seem more fun.

We arrived in the parking field the same time as other members of the club. The marshal organising parking asked us to park further over, as the runners would need to get through. I looked across the grass, down the hill I would go up at the end, and wondered what I’d let myself in for. Race registration was in a beautiful barn. Picking up my number was a fast and smooth process, and pots of safety pins were freely available.

My husband, there in supporter capacity, had been talking to some people about the course, and mentioned to me that it had hills. Which is, of course, just what you want to hear at the start of the race. We headed over to the start, which was marked by a tractor. It was difficult to hear the instructions, as people further back were talking, but I picked up the key points of yellow arrows, red & white tape, and marshals. And then, we were off.

The start of the race was downhill through a mostly grassy field, with the odd rock here and there to spice things up. Not that I really needed it spicing up. Being a certified scaredy-cat I’m not good with steep downhill at the best of times, least of all when it’s off-road. So quite a few people passed me on the way down. At the bottom of that hill lay the moment of truth – the River Kit.

Credit: Paul Masters

For me, the difficulty lay not in the river itself, but in the muddy bank on either side. I couldn’t work out where to get a footing at all, let alone a fast one. Still, I found a route through and made it safely to the other side. Without falling over. Which is more than a lot of people can say (they likely went faster than a tortoise). With the river safely crossed, I started up the other side, blissfully ignorant of what was to come.

The uphill lasted for over a mile. Grassy fields turned into woodland, but the hill carried on regardless. This is the first 10k that I’ve seen with a water station before 1.5 miles. It was a much appreciated water station. A brief respite followed in the form of a flat-ish track, but the uphill woodland continued shortly after. For me, any form of pride at keeping running had disappeared in the river, so almost all of the uphill climb had been a brisk walk. Then something magical happened.

The terrain started to flatten out, and we were running through bluebell-filled woods. It was twisty and turny, with tree stumps threatening to take people out, but it was beautiful. And flat. Suddenly I had a tiny bit of confidence back, and my outlook changed. The route turned downhill, on the sort of bumpy path that normally freaks me out even walking. But somehow I was running down it. Until it got wet and slippy that is. I pretty much ground to a halt then, and was lucky enough to get words of encouragement from some lovely Axe Valley runners who nearly bumped into me in the process.

From this point on, my memory of the route order gets a little hazy, so while these things all happened they may not be in the right places. Reaching the end of one field provided yet another race-first for me, when I worked out that the arrow was indeed pointing for me to climb over a fence (thankfully a short one!). Running along the edge of crop fields was an enjoyable experience. Hard work though.

One memorable slog uphill was on a farm track. In a fit of optimism I was attempting to run, until I realised that the person in front of me was walking and going faster. Needless to say I followed suit. The second water station was very welcome, and the lovely marshal told me I was welcome to keep walking up the hill with my cup, which suited me well.

Note the hills

Although I knew about the river crossing, there were actually 3 water crossings on the route. The third was my favourite, as the ground was solid either side and the water was clear enough to see the rocks. It was actually uphill just before the water, but I made the effort to run through (ok, so there was a camera). Clearly I got a bit too carried away at the excitement of splashing, as I lost my footing heading up the other side. I successfully broke my fall, although my wrist and elbow spent the next few minutes wishing I hadn’t.

I learned a lot as the race went on. I found myself running downhill on grass – at one point I nearly couldn’t stop for a turning. The sorts of uneven surfaces that had fazed me at the beginning started to feel natural. I even started to get better at working out when to run and when to walk. But my legs really struggled, and I realised that I hadn’t eaten anywhere near enough beforehand.

Turning a corner, I could see the field with the cars in. The target was in sight. Until it got hidden behind the hill. One of those wonderful hills that keeps giving more every time you think you’re approaching the top. But eventually the top was there. Faster runners were heading back to their cars. A few of them stopped to cheer me on, which was very much appreciated.

Nearly there!

This just left the short stretch of country lanes to get me back to the barn. The solid, downhill ground, combined with lots of support from faster runners, made for a positive end to a difficult race. Other members of my club were cheering at the final corner, and then the finish funnel appeared. I wasn’t 100% sure exactly where the finish line was, so I kept going until I’d passed all the official looking people.

Someone else was handing out the race mementos – stretchy scarves with the race name on. The barn contained several very cheerful people selling food and drinks. Whoever baked the chocolate brownie was particularly amazing. I joined my fellow club members to cheer other runners home, and to reflect that we didn’t feel cheated at all by the 10k ‘only’ lasting 5.8 miles. That was plenty.

Chard Road Runners should be proud of a wonderfully organised race. Despite the cursing, the legs of lead, and the feelings of inadequacy, I really did enjoy it. Definitely one to put in your calendar for next year,

Round the Tor 10k: Lolly’s race report

by Lolly

This post originally appeared on Ben’s old blog, Running From the Physio.

Ben: My knee injury seems to have come back with a bit of a vengeance, so my running has very much taken a back seat to my wife’s lately. Over the weekend, she ran the Glastonbury Round the Tor 10k, taking my place, and she was kind enough to write up her thoughts for me:

This year started really well for me in terms of running. Training runs got stronger as they got longer, and my parkrun times dropped below the magical 30 minute mark. So of course, just before my first race of the year I got a chest infection. Plans were changed, and I found myself watching the 10k on the Isle of Man instead of chasing a new PB. Thankfully, though, the illness was shorter this time and my strength came right back. Then the plans changed again. Ben didn’t think his knee was up to racing in the Round the Tor 10k, so it was my chance to go instead.

When I agreed to take part in the race I only really knew 3 things about it:
a) it’s 10k
b) it’s in the Somerset Series
c) it doesn’t go up the Tor
The last one was fairly crucial for my decision making process. The night before the race we looked up the course to get an idea of elevation. I’m so glad we did.

Numbers were collected on the morning of the race as they had chips attached. As a slower-than-average runner I very much appreciate any race that uses chip times! We arrived at the Town Hall as other races were setting off. Once we found where to go there seemed to be decent systems in place, but there was definitely effort required to find the right place amongst a mass of people. Thankfully we arrived just as earlier races were setting off – any earlier and I suspect it may have been more difficult.

Saying goodbye to my support crew, I then followed the snake of people making their way to the start. It being my first ‘local’ race I wasn’t really sure what to expect at the start. There were the mats for the chips, and then a couple of people holding a rope across to hold people back. Not quite what I’d imagined, given instructions about who could stand in the first section. I walked what I hoped was far back enough, and then hung around at the side until the start. Which was quite a while really, as we got going at least 10 minutes late. There were some announcements over the PA, but they were pretty inaudible.

But then there was a shuffle forward and the magic moment of running. I started my Garmin a few paces before the line and set off at a very steady pace. Very, very steady. I got passed by a lot of people round the first corner as we headed down towards the Town Hall. That was fine though, as I had a much longer game-plan in mind.

Not sure the girl in purple was impressed.

After the Town Hall, the course headed up the High Street. Up being the key word there. The support here was amazing – definitely boosted by the large gathering of parents and children waiting to do the fun run. At the top of the hill I saw my husband and daughter, and started to settle into a rhythm.

From there the course works its way out to the edge of the town, including a slightly random out-and-back down a side road. Slightly demoralising given the ‘out’ is downhill. Around that point I caught up with a fellow running club member, and we ended up staying together for about half the race which was nice. Once out of the town the setting changed to country roads surrounded by fields. Taking in the views, I happened to look over to my right at a break in the trees and see Glastonbury Tor. It struck me at that point that people travel a long way to see the Tor, and I was lucky enough to be running around it. Possibly a sign of how well things were going that I could think like that.

I’d been watch-watching the whole way. However much I tried to tell myself that any PB would be a great achievement, in my heart I wanted a sub-60. So I was looking to keep my average pace around 9:30 a mile (to allow for me not running the optimal route). After the initial (planned) slower start, I’d got my pace there and kept it until around the 4k mark. And I’d overtaken a fair few of those people who’d sped past me initially. Then… hill.

Ok, so it wasn’t actually too bad a hill. Mostly it was the weather. The day before had been lovely and cold, but this was hot with very heavy air. So the hill seemed a lot worse. I passed a couple more club members on the way up, and the mutual support was a nice morale boost. And the knowledge of a water station at the top helped to keep me going.

Even with the climb and slowing down for water my pace was still where I wanted. Looking at my wrist at the 5k mark I was excited and nervous in equal measure. 30:03. It was definitely on, but there was definitely still more work to do. The rolling country roads reminded me of a recent enjoyable training run. Somehow the distance kept ticking over and my pace didn’t drop.

Around the 7k mark I saw one of our amazing club supporters at the side of the road. Cheers make all the difference, and combined with another water station I felt ready to face the final stages. After a little more undulating country road we reached the town again. My pace had remained on target, and it looked like it would all come down to my time at the 9k mark and the shape of the final section.

Oh look, a big hill. Run around it!

I missed the 9k sign. There were a few worried minutes, but after a while I realised that I must have just missed it. Nothing left to do then but to keep up the pace. What you really want to see at that stage of a race is a sign saying ‘Welcome to Heartbreak Hill’. Oh lovely.

The vast majority of runners ahead of me had slowed to a walk. My tactic was to break it into smaller hills. ‘Run to the red car’. ‘Now run, slower, to the next car’. The hill started to really get to me and I considered whether I’d be better off walking. Then I saw my husband and daughter at the top of the hill and so I had to keep running. My husband shouted something along the lines of ‘I told you it was flat’. I had better things to do with my energy than to make a rude reply.

Passing one of the race photographers it was then well-and-truly the last stretch of the race as it headed downhill back towards the Town Hall. Downhill sections near the end of the race are always great for starting a sprint-finish. The final part of the course was straight, and so the clock could be seen from a way off. I’m terrible at judging distances and knowing how long it will take me to run them. So when I saw the clock time started with 58 I gave it everything I had.

Another of our club supporters was cheering near the end. I fear I may have hardly acknowledged him. All those sprint-finishes at parkrun had taught my legs what to do. Shortly before the line an exhausted wave of emotion hit me. I didn’t need chip timing, I was going to make it on gun time.


This was the better of the sprint finish photos. Honest!

Slightly overwhelmed, I stopped my watch a few paces after the line and slowly walked to collect my medal. It was the shortest finish funnel I’ve seen, and it took quite a lot of determination to locate the water table further down the road. If I hadn’t been assured it was there I’d have given up trying to get through the mass of people. The remainder of post-race treatment was better. Once I actually looked at the medal I realised it’s quite a nice one, which always helps. The results appeared online in a timely fashion, and the official race photos were free to download, making the race amazing value for money.

On a personal level, I left Glastonbury with a slightly surreal feeling of achievement. Oh, and a new PB of course. I can now say I have run 10k in 0:59:13. Yes, I’ve included the hours – I worked extremely hard for that zero!

Done it!