Author Archives: Lolly

It’s a run, not a race

by Lolly

A few weeks ago, my half marathon training was flying along. Fitting 10 miles in on the way to volunteer at parkrun seemed perfectly reasonably. My pace was holding as the long runs increased. And then, I stopped running.

The edge of a cold combined with stress to make curling up on the sofa seem much more reasonable than going out for a run. The problem was, the longer I took off exercise the more sluggish I felt. I missed a whole week from my training plan. Thankfully it had been a recovery week, but it still meant changes to my planned mileage in future weeks.

Tentatively I started back going. By the time parkrun got around last weekend I really felt I had something to prove. The conditions were tough and I didn’t feel 100%. It didn’t matter, I gave it my all and knocked almost half a minute off my PB. In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn’t have gone for it quite so much.

My normal style involves lots of overtaking.

I spent the rest of the weekend feeling ill and sorry for myself. It took until Thursday for me to feel I could go out for a run. Amazingly the 4 miles went smoothly, and although I was careful not to focus on my pace it remained inside my normal training band. While I was by no means feeling completely better, the knowledge that I would get at least one run in over the weekend was a huge comfort.

In this house, Saturday is parkrun day and, because of Ben’s race plans, it was once again my turn to run. This time I knew I had to take it easy. In the last 18 months I’ve talked to an awful lot of people about the power of parkrun. About the support you receive from other runners, from volunteers, and from spectators. And about how it doesn’t matter how fast you are, because it’s a run not a race. Yesterday I needed to remember that.

While I didn’t ease off completely, it still felt like I was going slowly as I saw familiar faces off in the distance. Near the end I had so much in my legs that it was tempting to kick on for a strong sprint finish. But that’s not what I needed to do. I needed to run 5k in a way that would make me feel stronger, and wouldn’t need me to spend the rest of the weekend recovering.

Not a typical half marathon training schedule.

After all the disruptions in my training, I’m a little apprehensive about my half marathon. I have to face the fact that I won’t be as prepared as I had hoped to be. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be ready. Six months ago I ran my first sub-30 parkrun, putting all my effort in to reach the massive milestone. Since that day, I’ve yet to run a parkrun that hasn’t been sub-30. And that includes yesterday’s effort.

If I can keep running to how I feel, I’ll be ready for that race.

Two Tunnels 10k: Race Report

by Lolly

At the start of the year I signed up for the Two Tunnels Mini Challenge. This would involve doing a 5k in March, a 10k in May and (gulp) a half marathon in September. Two days before the 5k I got a chest infection, and so I re-scheduled to do the 5k in May and the 10k in July. Useful to have a series of events with 4 dates in the year!

Unfortunately this screwed up my timings somewhat. I ended up doing the Glastonbury 10k just a week before the Two Tunnels 5k, with no recovery runs in between. Achey legs and an annoyance at driving all the way to Bath for a (probably short) 5k made it a pretty miserable experience. Ben tried to persuade me that it was good experience for the later runs, but I wasn’t having any of it. By the time I reached last weekend, I wondered what the point of doing a 10k at this point was, particularly having already hit my sub-60 target for the year.

The Two Tunnels events are based around a section of the former Somerset & Dorset railway line that’s been turned into a cycle path. Along the line it goes through, wait for it, two tunnels. Bet you didn’t see that one coming. All the events start in a park in Bath, and the ‘Return ticket’ 10k goes out through both tunnels before coming back the same way.

The events have quite a laid-back feel to them, with everything you really need from a race but not a lot more. On arriving in the park (field) I collected my number and then headed straight for the very long toilet queue. Four toilets between several hundred runners led to a long wait, but as luck would have it I was queuing right behind two fellow club members.

The range of events and size of path means that runners are sent off in waves. We were in the last wave to go, and during our (very good) briefing the first few 5k runners started to go through. Many of us were clapping and cheering them in – it was that kind of event. There was a countdown until the start clock got to 20 minutes, and then we were off.

Well, we were mostly off. Some people nearer the front weren’t in much of a rush, so it took a little while to properly get going. We headed across the field and then down a bank to meet the footpath. Lesson number 1 from the 5k – there is no need to rush down the uneven bit. I nearly twisted my ankle first time out, but in the 10k I took my time and chose my footing carefully.

Once we were on the path properly I started weaving to try to get into the right position. What I didn’t learn from the 5k is that the bridges have posts in the middle at either end, and so I nearly smacked straight into one of them. The typical re-shuffle for the start of a race continued, and I found myself overtaking people who were overtaking people themselves. Reminded me of the motorway on the way up! It was also pretty hairy at times, as the 5kers were flying along in the opposite direction.

Tunnel! (credit: Leigh Dodds)

Having settled into a pace, the first tunnel approached. Lesson number two from the 5k – the tunnels are your friend. The footing is solid throughout, and there is a surprisingly consistent cool, easy-to-breathe air quality. There are lights at regular intervals, and the path is easily wide enough to run three across. I knew this was my chance to get into a solid rhythm at a quicker pace.

Heading out of the first tunnel, I lapped my watch. Then I lapped it again. The tunnels are great for running but terrible for GPS. By lapping once it had re-found me, I could use my lap pace to get an approximation of how fast I was going. Something else I’d thought about after my 5k experience.

We passed the turning point for the 5k and then, in what seemed like no time at all, had reached the second tunnel. It’s fair to say that this part didn’t seem like no time at all. This tunnel is very long, just over a mile long in fact. Somewhere in the middle I spotted the distance markers on the ground, telling you how far it was to each end. The atmosphere was good, as runners from an earlier 10k wave were heading back the other way. Friendly faces and the tunnel features made for nice racing conditions.

The major downside with a mile of cool tunnel was coming out the other end. It was like running into a wall of hot and humid. My watch took a little longer to find me this time, so I was lapping for quite a bit. It helped to pass the time until that magical moment – drinks station! The water was in the usual cups, and was handed out very efficiently.

Course map. Note the tunnels.

After a short while longer we reached the flag. Turning round on a reasonably narrow path made for a tight corner. I went round at the same time as a reasonably tall guy who was packed with muscle. This gave me that brief smug moment of being small enough to accelerate back up very quickly. Pretty sure he caught back up shortly after though.

As inevitably happens, the way back seemed to take that big longer. The drinks station was further than I remembered, although I did have the lift of seeing club members passing through. The drinks were outbound only, but someone nice had taken a few cups to the other side to give us the option of more water. And it was then furhter to get back to the tunnel than I’d remembered as well.

The atmosphere changed on the way back, as I was fairly lonely in the tunnel. Fewer people were running the other direction, and I was a way behind the runner in front as well. Every hundred metres I looked to the ground to see the distance markers, and it’s fair to say they helped keep me going. So much so that I caught and overtook the girl in front, who was very supportive in cheering me on.

Leaving the tunnel meant another wave of heat, but a psychological milestone had been passed. The marshal at the 5k turn point was a welcome sight, and by the final tunnel section I was feeling pretty good. So I started to speed up. Compared to the longer tunnel, with the knowledge of heading home, the shorter tunnel was over much sooner than expected.

Back out in the open I was aware of someone catching up to me. At one stage we were side-by-side, and he told me not to let him overtake me. Even though it felt harder the pace was still good. We crossed a bridge, and in one of those horrible moments I forgot that there were, in fact, two bridges and so we weren’t as close to the end as I thought. I felt like I had nothing left to give, but with the support of my new running partner I maintained pace.

We finally got to the bridge near the end. Some earlier finishers were waiting there cheering – one of my favourite features in any race or parkrun. The final lesson I had taken from the 5k was that the finish was relatively difficult, going up a reasonably steep slope before heading back to the grass. I really struggled up the hill, but I got a lot of support from the guy I was running with. Then we reached the last slog along the grass. Cheers came from all around, including from Ben and our daughter, and I gave every last thing I had to make it over the line.

I’d seen the clock as I crossed the line, and it’s really not hard to subtract 20 minutes from a time. Which mean that as I turned to shake the other runner’s hand I was able to thank him for pushing me back to a massive PB. He said that he’d been using me for pace for quite some way. I think it was really nice of him to cheer me home instead of overtaking – I know which option Ben would have taken!

Inter-locking medals!

Across the field I took my toddler to pick up my medal – number 2 as it was my second race in the series. The bag literally just contained a high-quality medal and a chocolate bar which, to be honest, is all I really want at the end of a race. Ben then took a trip to one of the food vans, and so I was happily munching away as I watched some of my club friends cross the line. Special shout out for Kirsti who had an amazing sprint finish to pull off an overtake just before the finish line.

So what started off as a pointless event turned into one of the best 10k experiences I’ve had. In September there will be events ranging from 300m to a full marathon, and I would strongly recommend it to anyone in the area. Scenic race with everything you need, and the added bonus of going through some old railway tunnels. Definitely one I’d happily recommend.

My 3-part medal is now two thirds complete, and I worked extremely hard for that second piece. My 10k PB was reduced by almost 4 minutes to 55:23. The scary thing is though, I’ll have to work even harder for the third part. I’ve never run that far before!

parkrun tourism: Burnham and Highbridge

by Lolly

Just over 6 months after our visit to Pomphrey Hill we hit the road again, this time to try something new. Brand new. Our first spot of inaugural parkrun tourism, and a mere 15 miles away from our home event.

Burnham and Highbridge parkrun is, as the name suggests, in Burnham-on-Sea & Highbridge. It was pretty straight forward to locate, albeit having the use of a satnav, and there is a free car park right near the start/finish. As this was the first event we had no idea how many people to expect, but the car park filled up nicely, and we even found a few more friends from ‘home’.

The water did look blue, promise!

After speeches from various officials, and the standard pre-race briefings, the group of runners all set off, seeming very chirpy for a Saturday morning. The course starts in a park (how novel!), winding its way round a lake and other pretty scenery. And a playpark, which is useful to note for future reference. The route then heads out onto the river path (more running near water) – which eventually becomes the esplanade (yet more running near water).

Partway along the walkway, lovely marshals directed us round a building and back the way we came. The turnaround point is at roughly the 2 mile mark, and so on return the course leaves the river path a little earlier to cut back into the park. The finish sneaks up on you somewhat, due to its position near a corner, but I was lucky enough to have friends warning me of this. (Ben: This was me and Iain, screaming madly “the finish is just around the corner, you can sprint from here!”) And a Garmin beeping for 3 miles always helps as well.

Credit: Mark Benton

We’d been a little nervous beforehand about the out-and-back nature of the course, but I found it worked really well. Being near the middle of the pack I had the benefit of seeing runners going the opposite way both out and back, and it really added to the community feel of the event. Turning around a building also helped to ease the jerking feeling of doubling back. Another factor with the paths used is that the surface is excellent quality throughout. Not one to try if you love fields and tracks, but definitely one to chase PBs on.

It’s definitely a parkrun we’d like to head back to, and its proximity means it stands a good chance. There were 144 finishers on Saturday, and while we were by no means the only visitors the results show 58 people completed their first ever parkrun. And given their location I imagine that summer tourism will see many paying them a visit.

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!