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...

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!

1412 Parkrun 006Amongst 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.

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.

Splish Splash

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.

Elevation Graph

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!

Isle of Man Easter Festival of Running 10k (2015): race report

by Ben
This post originally appeared on Ben’s old blog, Running From the Physio.
Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I’m through with playing by the rules
Of someone else’s game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to rest and be done
It’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and run!
 
It’s time to try
Defying injury
I think I’ll try
Defying injury
And you can’t stop me now!

Roughly a year ago, I completed the 10k element of the Isle of Man Easter Festival of Running, and this year I had been looking forward to taking part in the full festival, including the hill race and the 5k as well. But this hasn’t really been my year for running: prior to travelling to the island, I had completed 35 miles total since 5 January, when I picked up my knee injury. Normally, that would be perhaps a week and a half of training.

So, the ummm-ing and ahhh-ing started. I scheduled in a 5 mile run for the weekend before the race: my longest single run since the injury. It went well, but I still had doubts. After all, 35 miles hardly seems sufficient training for a 10k race. Especially not in such a stop-start fashion. On the other hand, I’d signed up for the Chard Flyer on 1 January, and had to DNS. I’d signed up for the Humdinger Half in February, and had to DNS. I’d signed up for the Bath Half in March, and had to DNS. And those were just the races I had actually signed up for. There were a few others that I’d pencilled in too – you get the idea.

I came to the following conclusions:

  • I wanted to run the 10k race.
  • Running the 10k race off 35 miles training was foolhardy.
  • But I wanted to run it, dammit!
  • Okay, well maybe just running the 10k race would be okay, if I took it reasonably easy.
  • Hmmm… how about the hill race and 5k?
  • Don’t push it, stop being an idiot. Look, there are plenty of races in the next few months you can do with proper training.
  • But they’re ages away. Strop.

I decided to defer the decision yet further, and base it upon a short run once I’d arrived on the island. Coming the day after over twelve hours of travelling, that run went awfully, giving me the indication that perhaps I should follow my head rather than my heart, and give the whole thing a miss. Needless to say, the next day, my head was given significantly less of a say in the matter. At lunchtime I had that well known pre-race favourite: a burger and a beer. An hour before the race, I was still undecided, causing all sorts of strife for my in-laws, who were trying to work out when dinner should be. Sorry about that.

Inevitably, ten minutes before the race started, I turned up. Which was about the same time as four students from Leeds University. They had been scheduled to come over on the ferry, which had been due to arrive at 14:00. Various problems and delays meant that at 17:00, it was still in Liverpool. By this stage, the students had made a dash to the airport, and caught a last-minute flight over to make the race in time, the plane landing less than 45 minutes before the start of the race!

Race plan, mile one: Take it easy, particularly up the hill.
Race summary, mile one: Stood at the back of the pack for the start. Got stuck behind a group of slow runners. Sped up to get around slow runners. Decided I liked speed, kept going. Got to hill, remembered that I like sprinting up hills. Did so, passing lots of runners. Remembered that I liked passing runners. Watch beeped, 7:46 minute mile. Well that’s okay, that isn’t too fast.

Just under a mile completed, not looking too bad yet. Credit: Dave Kneen.

Race plan, mile two: Actually take it easy, don’t get carried away.
Race summary, mile two: Okay, this is the last real chance to drop out and just go back home. That wouldn’t go well with the wife and in-laws who have adjusted evening plans for race. Feel fine anyway. Keep going. Still passing people; maybe I should have started a bit earlier in the pack. Watch beeped, 7:34 minute mile. Hmm…

Race plan, miles three and four: Start taking it easy, it’s been fine so far, but don’t push it.
Race summary, mile three and four: Long gradual downhill stretch to reach the sea. Downhills are fun too, they are easier, and faster! Might as well let my legs free a bit along this stretch as it is downhill. Course then follows the coastal path for a while. Hmm… three miles is about as far as I’ve run hard lately. Water station: manned by only two people, who only have time to refill plastic cups, not able to hand cups to people. Grab cup, knocking most of water out of it, try to drink the rest of the water from cup, but mostly swallow air. Decide I would have been better without it. Prepare myself for uphill, but discover the course change from last year means that it doesn’t happen. Worry about when it will. Watch beeps, 7:20, 7:24 minute miles. Sod it, I wonder if I can beat my time from last year. Hmm… I wonder what my time was last year.

Looking less fresh running along the coast in Port St Mary. Credit: Murray Lambden.

Race plan, mile five: A bit of climbing, definitely time to take it easy, let’s just get to the end.
Race summary, five five: Oh God, my calves! Breathing fine, heart rate okay, legs leaden. Every step is a preceded by a small argument between legs and rest of body. Pace drops, but still passing people, including some of the university runners, which is a boost. Try not to be too silly, don’t want the embarrassment of watching them all pass me again in a mile. Watch beeped, 7:50 minute mile; slowest of the race, but still far better than I expected at all.

Turning back to home, a rare decent race pic!
Credit: Bill Dale.

Race plan, miles six point two one: Sod it, whatever.
Race summary, miles six point two one: Okay, all downhill from here. Well, except that uphill bit at the end. Damn that uphill bit at the end. Oh, that’s my father-in-law in his back garden. Oh, and my wife. (At this point, I think I went a little delusional: I seemed to come to the conclusion that because I was pretty much guaranteed to finish, I didn’t have to put any more effort in.) I cruised down the final descent to Port Erin bay. Just the curve around the bay left, time to put in a bit more effort. Can’t really be bothered. Don’t really have any effort to put in anyway. Just keep running. People in front getting away, being passed. Don’t like being passed. Should try to keep up. Too hard. Never mind. Get to finish, 47:07. Still don’t remember what I got last year.

Eugh, shouldn’t have turned down the offer from my father-in-law to bring me a hoodie at the end, it’s cold. Thankfully, my amazing wife soon appeared with the hoodie, and even better, we then headed to the Chinese for a takeaway: clearly the best recovery food known to any runner.

Race analysis: Once home, I checked Strava, and discovered that my time last year was 47:00. I’d done that about a month after a half marathon for which I’d trained pretty extensively. Whereas this year, I was seven seconds slower, despite pretty much no training because of injury. So from that point of view, I can take a massive positive in my “base fitness” being significantly better than this time last year. Another positive was simply being able to complete 10k; it was a risk doing the run, and I’d genuinely started unsure as to whether I would finish. On the other hand, I do remain injured: when I’m running it’s fine, but when I’m walking, or even just sitting down, my knee is sore. I’m planning a number of 10k races in the early summer after a few weeks of training, and hopefully that training will work as rehabilitation for my knee. Hopefully.

More snakes than ladders…

by Ben

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

In the last week, I’ve been chomping at the bit. Those words, “Don’t run before our next appointment” haunted me. Within a few days my knee felt good, I was tentatively trying it out up stairs and in short sprints across the road. I knew it was better, but I was good, and I waited for my appointment.

Some more massage, and a chat about running plans led to further horror: “I think you should leave it another few days, and perhaps go for a short run at the start of next week.” Really? Did he not realise that I was all fixed and ready to run miles and miles and miles and miles? Did he not know that I had a two half marathons in the next seven weeks?

100% accurate representation of how I felt.

What he perhaps did know, or have an inkling of, was that I wasn’t fixed.

He gave me a plan: two short, gentle runs this week. I figured if I did the first on Monday, and the second on Wednesday, then I might be able to sneak another one in on Saturday if everything went well. So it was that, full of excitement, and slightly scared, I was dressed in that sexy fluorescent yellow once again. I decided upon a nice little three mile loop that I knew well.

It was great! Well – the first mile was. No pain at all, just a nice mile completed in nine minutes. I was chuffed, and started to work out how I would add the mileage back in to get me up to a decent distance for the Bath Half. Then my knee started to ache. Then my knee started to ache more. Then my knee started to ache really quite badly. Then I stopped. I’d completed two miles, and I practically hobbled the third mile home.

Stairs are once again my nemesis, merely standing causes unreasonable discomfort. I still have a vague hope that I might be able to get out for a short run later this week, but if I do, it might be on a one mile loop! More likely, I’m going to give my leg a decent rest, and reassess things in a week or so. If I can persuade myself to be that patient. In the mean time, I’m going to have to live vicariously through my wife’s running: wonder if she fancies a ten miler at the weekend, I know a really good route…

Back in the Physio’s Room

by Ben

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

Ah. My running of the past few years has come full circle. A persistent knee injury in late 2012 brought a spell of regular running to a halt, and resulted in a lengthy spell of physiotherapy and rehabilitation. I’ve seen my physioregularly since for sports massage, but last week was the first time I’d been back to see him for an injury. And really, it was probably all my own stupid fault…

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn’t get much running done over Christmas: a bug struck me down for a couple of weeks. Prior to that, I’d been running pretty well: three Sunday long runs in excess of 10 miles, and plenty of variety in there too. Over the Christmas/New Year fortnight, I ran a parkrun on Christmas Day, another ten days later, and then a 10 mile run the day after that. And that, as they say, was that.

The 10 miler was actually alright: I felt pretty good on it, took it at a pretty gentle pace, and actually enjoyed the run. For the rest of the day though, my knees made it well known that they hadn’t enjoyed the run. Stairs were not fun, carrying my daughter around was not fun, and carrying my daughter up the stairs: ha! In the evening, I had a short session with the foam roller to try and sort things out:

In retrospect, I clearly should have eased back into things a little more: if I’d had time off because of a niggle, I would have done. But with it being a spot of illness, I didn’t really think about it. And… if this was my only sin, I’d probably be back running again already. What followed… was sheer idiocy.

Time and time again, both within my club, and generally through Twitter and running magazines, I’ve been told that you should steer clear of speed-work if you have even the inkling of an injury.

Time and time again, both within my club, and generally though Twitter, I advise people with an injury or discomfort to either rest completely, or to do a gentle recovery-style run.

Medicinal peas!

So, on Monday, with sore knees that still strongly disliked stairs, I must surely have rested, or gone for a nice plod along the canal, right? No, of course not. Like a complete lunatic I went to a club track session. I completed, I think, 8 laps of the track. Although that somewhat overstates how much I ran: two warm-up laps, five laps of the session, and then one “is this as bad as…. ARGHHHHH, yes it is” lap. That last lap was taken at a very slow jog, for about 150 metres, before even that was too painful, and I made do with an awkward hobble.

On Tuesday, I went to work, pumped full of a combination of painkillers that I found in our medicine drawer: things were not looking good for getting back out again that week.

On Wednesday, I felt sorry for myself.

On Thursday, I felt sorry for myself.

On Friday, I continued to feel sorry for myself, but also decided to do something about it. I managed to secure an appointment later that same day to see my physio. Part of me had been quite scared about taking this step. My rehab from my previous knee problem had taken months, and I couldn’t really bear to consider that this could take a similar length of time. Of course, looking back, I have to admit that I wasn’t very… assiduous at completing my daily exercises.

And so, on Friday afternoon, I found myself back in the physio’s room. After ascertaining exactly where the pain was, and which movements triggered it, and which did not, I received an ITB massage. Generally, I get on fine with sports massage: while plenty of people complain about them, I don’t find them too painful. An ITB massage though, that hurts. Still, I left with instructions to massage the ITB with my foam roller, a set of exercises to complete each day. Oh, and those horrible words “Don’t run before our next appointment.”

I made our next appointment for as soon as I could.

Christmas lurgy and getting going again

by Ben

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

So, like many, I had an unintended lull in my training over Christmas due to a horrible cough/cold combo. I’d always planned to drop the mileage a little, but in the last two weeks, I’ve done 17 miles. That doesn’t sound too bad, you might think, but 13.1 of those miles were done this weekend! I missed two races that I’d been looking forward to over the Christmas period: I hadn’t signed up for the Stoke Stampede, but probably would have done on the day, while the Chard Flyer on New Year’s Day I had paid for. Still, I really didn’t have any choice in the matter, so there is no use getting too annoyed about it. Though it does mean that I probably won’t run a 10k road race for over 6 months: my last was at the end of September, and my next scheduled is the start of April.

Yes Strava… a “rest”.

My focus now switches to my spring half marathons. In the three weeks before Christmas, my long runs were all just over 10 miles, and I was averaging well over 20 miles a week. I set a parkrun PB at the start of November, and a road 5k PB in early December, so I know that despite this little setback, I’m running pretty well. My focus in the next few weeks is making my long runs long, maintaining a good variety of runs, and strengthening work. I don’t know when I’ll fit the last in, because it’s something I’ve never scheduled in, and always the first thing to get dropped if I have other things to do. (And with a 15-month-old daughter, there are always other things to do!)

I’ve avoided the temptation of the “review” blog for the most part: suffice to say that I easily hit all of my targets for last year, and my targets for the year going forward aren’t really set. I have a few things in mind, but to be honest, I don’t know how quickly I can improve. My focus is going to be on running well, and racing fun. Yes, I want that 10k PB, I want that half-marathon PB. I definitely want to go sub-20 for 5k. But I want to try more trail races, some odd distances, some hilly races. I’m hoping to get out and do a fair number of races in the Somerset Series: they’re local, and generally pretty reasonably priced. There are generally a few people I know at each, and they offer the variety that I’m after.

parkrun tourism: Pomphrey Hill

by Ben

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

At the weekend, my wife and I headed off again to try out another parkrun. This time, a Christmas party in Bristol with my wife’s family was the excuse. There are four parkruns in and around Bristol: Ashton Court, Little Stoke, Pomphrey Hill and Chipping Sodbury. There is also one in Bath. As we were staying in Keynsham the two most logical options were Pomphrey Hill and Bath, and despite the worrying aspect of the name, we went for Pomphrey Hill.

As luck(?) would have it, Ira Rainey (one of them there Twitter folk: @IraRainey) was run director for the day, so I had a ready source of information for the event, and it would be a good excuse to meet him face to face. (In a public environment, in case he turned out to be a mad axe-murderer.) He proved to both supply good information, recommending trail shoes rather than road shoes, and not be a mad axe-murderer (at least, not on a Saturday morning…)

A cold and frosty morning for a run. (Credit: Ira Rainey)

I wasn’t too keen on the idea of three laps, but on the other hand, I’d raced in the Street 5k series early in the week, and that consisted of five laps, so three didn’t seem quite so bad. The run briefing was fun and interactive, and definitely one that other parkruns could learn from. For example, asking if any runners have hit an “anniversary run” helps to avoid cliquishness that might otherwise set in. With all that done, we were asked to step back behind the line, which ruined my cunning plan to shave half a second off my finishing time!

Pomphrey Hill is quite a small parkrun, typically attracting less than 100 runners: with this in mind, and a look at previous results, I knew that I should be running in and around the top 10, an unusually lofty position, and one that normally means I’ve set off far too fast!

So, the course:
In many ways, of the local parkruns I’ve done in the past couple of months, this one was most similar to our own at Longrun Meadow. It was run entirely on paths around a playing field, though they varied between light gravel, tarmac and bark. The major difference was the hill. Longrun Meadow is pretty pancake like. Pomphrey Hill, as the name might suggest, is not. The cry of “Up Pomphrey!” during the run briefing gave me the idea that this possibly was not “just” a hill. Actually, as Ira pointed out at the end, it’s only actually just under 40 ft of climb. However, the steepness, combined with the fact that this was the spongy bark-covered part of the course made it more sapping than perhaps it should have been. Of course, what goes up must come down, and in its own way, the descent was as difficult as the ascent: the frosty morning meant that despite the salt that had been put down, footing was a little hairy on the tarmac path back down the hill.

The great advantage of multiple laps is the obvious fact that after the first time around, you know what’s coming and can adjust your pace in anticipation: be that slowing for a hill, or accelerating because there isn’t far left. The disadvantage is that when you have just got to the top of a hill, you are aware that you still have to run up it another twice!! Still, on balance I think I actually quite enjoyed the shorter laps, as it helped me to maintain a more consistent pace than I typically manage at Longrun Meadow.

Back to my run:
I spent much of the race in tenth place, and pushed up to eighth on the climb Up Pomphrey on the final lap. Despite actually being slower up and down the hill on my third lap, I held on to eighth place, and even put in a trademark sprint finish to cement it. Once I’d finished I looped back on the course a little bit to cheer on my wife, who was coming around to start her final lap, and had a chat to a couple of the other runners. Unsurprisingly for a parkrun, particularly a small one, everyone was very friendly and chatty: it’s great to be part of such a nice community, even when miles from home!

Final analysis: I finished in 21:05, my second fastest parkrun anywhere, which was something of a surprise given how much harder the course felt (and the fact that my watch said 21:22, but no more about that!) My wife completed her first parkrun since July, since when she has been beset with chest problems. All in all, a good fun morning, and a course we both want to go back to.

Brent Knoll: race report

by Ben

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

In mid-October, I completed my second half-marathon, Exeter’s Great West Run (you can read about how I did here), which was my last major race of the year. However, to end my season, I decided to book in the Brent Knoll race. Brent Knoll is a 137 metres (449 feet) high hill a couple of miles from Burnham-on-Sea. Apparently, one of King Arthur’s knights, “Ider son of Nuth”, went to the hill on a quest to slay three giants. Or so says Wikipedia. While I didn’t spot any giants, I can report that the hill itself certainly felt like a giant one!

The race started at a very sociable time: 11:30. I know that it isn’t really a practical time to start a summer race, but at this time of the year, I certainly appreciated the later start. I travelled up on my own, and didn’t know of anyone else doing the race, but as I was idling around waiting for everything to get going, I heard a cry of “Ben”. I ignored it. Yes, I’m called Ben, and yes, that’s what was shouted, but I just assumed it was for someone else. When the shout was repeated, louder, I decided to pay some attention, and saw Rob, Kerry, Chris, Eliza and Louise from my running club!

Louise, Eliza, Chris and me, looking very
clean prior to the race. (Photo credit: Rob Murr)

After posing for a few photos, we headed off to the start line, where I saw a fellow parkrunner, Andy, and had a quick chat to him. Before we knew it though, the (pretty quiet) announcer at the start called 3-2-1-Go, and we shot off. Knowing that Andy tends to beat me at parkrun, I let him ahead of me, but then stuck pretty close behind him. At least, I did until I saw him hopping out of a muddy puddle: his shoe had come off! The route, which heads out from Burnham to Brent Knoll, is flat for the first mile and a half, which I completed in about 7:30 min/mile. The subsequent mile and a half was done at about 10:50 min/mile. That mile and a half included the two significant hill climbs.

The first climb was the smaller of the two, but the terrain made it, in my opinion, much the harder. It was the slowest part of the race, and there were a couple of points that I was genuinely on my hands and feet, scrambling for some, any, sort of grip. More than once a fistful of grass stopped me from slipping back down the slope. To add to the chaos, everyone had their own idea of which route was the best, and this resulted in mass of bodies all frantically trying to just reach the top. Despite my worries that it would only take one overeager person near the top to slip and take us all out, the climb was eventually completed, and the course levelled back out for a while.

I would love to say that the level section allowed me to regain my energy and breath to attack the second hill. Actually, I just ran like a mad person to try and make up for the “time lost” scrambling up the hill, and as a result I slowed to a walk almost as soon as the second incline began. The footing was much better this time though, and after a while there were even steps. Oh, the luxury. Despite this, no one around me looked to even be contemplating running, and I certainly wasn’t going to be the only idiot! But on reaching the top, the first stride off the step was back into a run. No time to stop and admire the wondrous views, ya know, this is a race!

Okay, I did have a glance around and take in what I could, and it was stunning, but I certainly didn’t have the time to do it justice. A quick half loop of the top, and we were heading back down again. For this section of the race I have to thank the chap in front of me, who demonstrated an effective technique which I shamelessly copied. I’m sure all fell runners are aware of it, but it is essentially to continue to lean slightly forwards, and to zig-zag down the hill. The pair of us passed a number of runners as we descended. In the back of my mind, the next descent was starting to loom large: I’d struggled to scramble up it, how the heck was I going to safely get down it?!

Well, as it turns out, with a commando roll.

My mind began to buzz about the hill as we approached it: I didn’t know how people would be attempting it: crawling back down, scrambling, sliding? It turned out, just running. The runner who was now in front of me (not the downhill expert) lost his footing at one point and slid a couple of metres on his bum, and then in the same place, my foot went completely from under me. I have little recollection of exactly how I rolled, but the mud was on my elbow, back and bum. Thankfully, after one roll I was back on my feet, and still running down the hill at pace. Amazingly too, I’m bruise-free!

With that descent safely (ish) navigated, it was just the level slog back to the start/finish, though by this stage, my legs were feeling decidedly tired! With just over a mile to go I was passed by another runner, and after a short argument, I convinced my legs to speed up a little and keep pace with him. I essentially dragged myself along behind him, and then, like the bastard that I am, I found that little bit extra and passed him in a sprint finish.

In fact, I was then told off by Rob and Kerry, as I’d ruined their photos by running too fast. They suggested that I go back and do the finish again to get better ones. I demurred.

I finished with a time of 51:11, which was probably faster than I was expecting to go, although the conditions were probably better than in the past couple of years, which I’d used as my benchmark for times. Andy came in about a minute after me, having lost his shoe twice more during the race: possibly tighter lacing is needed! I was surprised, but pleased, to receive a finisher’s medal, as I hadn’t seen anything about one in the race information!

So, it might have seemed mad to make my celebratory end of season race a muddy hill climb, but all in all, I had a great time, and will probably be back again next year!

The off-season: 11 top tips for things to do during enforced rest

by Ben

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

After the Great West Run in October, I always planned to let my body have a bit of a rest. In fact, I was basically prepared to give it the rest of October and all of November. Now, admittedly, this wasn’t complete rest. Just dropping down to a comfortable three runs a week, totalling about 12-15 miles. Apparently though, my body didn’t appreciate the efforts I was going to, and took matters into its own hands. Or more accurately, lungs.

Which left me with more time on my hands than I expected to have. So here are my 11 top tips for things to do during the off-season.*

  1) Book races
Okay, so I might be ill now, but that’s no reason not to book out the whole of January, February and March with races right? I joked to a friend yesterday that my “long-term planner” is actually just my race diary. It wasn’t actually a joke. I don’t race as regularly as many, but I’ve got three races definitely booked, and another four pencilled in. Just in the first three months of next year. Oops.

  2) Buy winter kit
That first day that you step out the door and think “by jove, it’s cold” (or however your mental voice would phrase it) is the time to stock up on winter running gear. I’ve been pretty good this year, and only picked up a couple of things so far: an extra hi-viz t-shirt, and a compression top that matches my running club vest. Because, you know, I don’t want to clash.

  3) Sort running kit drawer
While we’re on the topic of the kit, is it really still necessary to have four different vests in the drawer? Now that it’s cold I’m surely going to do clothes washing often enough to only need a couple of those right? And where did I hide those gloves away? And what is that?

Okay. I haven’t actually sorted it yet. I keep looking at it
and then finding something else to do. Can’t think why.

  4) Watch a box-set / complete a video game / read a trilogy
Remember that box-set you got for Christmas, but never managed to watch because you were out running? Now you can watch all 24 episodes! Or that video game you started, but then just sort of… forgot about. Or that trilogy that looks really good, but you’re worried that if you don’t read them quickly, you’ll forget who all the characters are. Seriously, I’ve completed about 25% of Grand Theft Auto during this “rest”, and that isn’t a small game.

  5) Volunteer at parkrun
If you can’t run… volunteer! I don’t think that slogan will catch on. Also, it turns out that if you go and volunteer on a cold day with horizontal driving rain, and a chest infection, you then develop a fever to go with it. I don’t recommend the pair, individually or paired up. So, if you’re resting due to illness, maybe skip this idea.

6) Read everybody else’s blogs and get jealous
Actually, now that I think about it, this one isn’t ideal. I mean, it’s great to be able to catch up with what you’re all doing and stuff. But seriously people, why don’t you all take a couple of weeks off too, just to make sure that I don’t get jealous. Thank you.

  7) Write a training plan
New season: new plan. In my case, the new plan is basically the same as the old plan, but with two extra runs added in, and a longer long run. I’m hoping that nobody notices that both of the extra runs have been added on the same day. I’m sure mentioning it won’t make it any more obvious. Ho hum.

On the back of an envelope, obviously.
  8) Write your Christmas list
This probably only works if you’re reading this roughly when it is published. If you’re catching up, or randomly found this on Google and it’s February, maybe give it a miss. But otherwise, start scribbling that list down: new trainers, new Garmin, that swanky Nike top with the thumb-holes in the sleeves…

  9) Eat
Because it’s a proven fact that the next best thing to running is eating. Try out some new recipes: plenty of those that took too long to consider when you had to factor a run in are now perfectly do-able. Of course, you might need to think about going for slightly less calorific options, but that just adds another challenge into the cooking, and might expand your repertoire! Me – I’m thinking Chocolate Fondant and a couple of new curries. Not together. Probably.

Sadly, this is not one I’ve made. Hopefully mine will
look this ace though. (credit: Robin, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

  10) Polish and sort medals
So, they’ve been hung up on the wall for a while now. They could probably do with a dust and polish. Now that I look at them, the display is a little imbalanced too: all the long ones are on one side, which looks a bit odd. But if I move that one over, the colours will clash. This could take a while.

  11) Rest
Oh yeah, I sort of forgot about this one, but I think it’s pretty important. Rest. Whether enforced or not, let the body have a bit of a break so that any ongoing niggles can sort themselves out and you’ll be fit and raring to go for the next season .. next week .. tomorrow.

So there you go, 11 things to keep you going when you’re not running. I’m sure I’ve missed some important things out though, what do you do to stay occupied and reasonably sane during some down-time from running? Do you just go crazy?

* By “top” I mean, the first ones I thought of. And by “tips” I don’t mean suggestions. Actually, they’re just “things”.