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Two Tunnels Half Marathon: Race Report

by Ben

When Lolly signed up to the Two Tunnels Mini Challenge, she did so in the knowledge that a) this would mean running her first half marathon and b) Ben had already signed up to run that very same half marathon. Yes, for the first time in just over 3 years we would be running the same race.

09:40

B: Having set off shortly after eight, we arrived on site with plenty of time to spare. My race wave was scheduled to set off at 11, so I was aiming to make sure that I was there by 10. Although on our previous visits there had been plenty of parking around the area, we were wary that there would be a lot more people around, and so aimed to arrive early to get me time to drop everyone off on site and then find somewhere on one of the surrounding streets to park. This didn’t actually take me as long as I’d expected, so I wasn’t that far behind Lolly in entering the park. I knew that she had planned to head straight over to the toilets, so I wandered over to pick up both of our numbers, which turned out to be a pretty straightforward process. This achieved, I saw Lolly, who seemed to have managed to get some of the colour run powder on her. Apparently it had caused a few problems with her asthma, so we hoped the loose powder around the start line would be well trodden down by the time she started.

10:00

B: The problem with turning up early for races to make sure you don’t end up late is that you then have loads of time spare to basically do nothing before the race starts. Still, I don’t know what I am moaning about, given that Lolly’s race didn’t start for another 40 minutes after mine, a whole two hours after we arrived on site! I opted to kill some time by joining the queue for the toilet, which had now swelled somewhat. There were, in fact, two queues for the toilets, and typically I joined the wrong one – though given part of the motivation was to kill time, maybe it was the right one after all! While I was in the queue, the first race of the morning set off, the first of two waves of marathoners. They were running two laps of the half marathon course, something I didn’t envy them at all.

10:20

B: The toilet queue had done its job, a couple more of the waves had set off. Lolly had got quite worried at one stage, as it turns out that some of the colours were used for more than one wave, and so her colour had been called, but for the 10k – not half marathon! As I was pottering around to kill a bit more time, I happened to bump into Andy, a fellow Longrun Meadow parkrunner. He was there doing the 10k, and after a few polite questions we each headed off for our preparations. I jogged a lap of the field, with some dynamic stretches thrown in, as although there was an organised “aerobics”-style warm-up near the start, I wanted to stick to what I used to.

10:40

B: I eventually, and slightly reluctantly, headed over to the start line when our wave was called. Reluctantly, as it seemed to be a long time before the race was due to start, for quite a small field. Still, I half-heartedly took part in the aerobic warm-up, and then once the wave before ours had set off, we piled into the starting pen. Of course, at this stage we were still about ten minutes early, so there was plenty of time for discussions. The main point of conversation was about the fact that the course was slightly long. While I had been aware of this (in fact, having been surprised by some course conditions at previous races, I’d pretty much “Google Earth”ed the whole route), lots of people apparently weren’t. A few people were quite annoyed, as they had been hoping to get a PB.

11:00

B: After watching Lolly’s previous races, I knew that there tended to be something of a bottleneck at the narrow path leading out of the field. Given this, I made the decision to intentionally go off a bit quick at the start, to try and get through that bit while there were relatively few other runners around. The plan worked well, but unsurprisingly I then found it quite tough to force myself to slow down. I did manage it, and let quite a few runners past, including Stuart from the Burnham Harriers, who I’ve chatted to quite often during Somerset Series races. Shortly after he passed me, I saw Andy coming the other way, so yelled out a quick “good luck” before we crossed paths. Despite having heard plenty about the races from Lolly, and having read her earlier blog post, I was slightly surprised at how soon we entered the first tunnel, and even more surprised at how dark it was inside. There was lighting all the way along, but it was very dim, and it was a struggle to see oncoming runners and bicycles until they were around ten metres ahead. We were soon back out of the first tunnel, and it wasn’t long before we then entered the second, much longer, tunnel. Despite the low lighting, the tunnels were both brilliant to run in; being cool and refreshing. With no GPS in the tunnel, or at least, unreliable GPS, I had to run by feel. My gut feeling was that I was probably still a little out of place, and that by keeping pace with those around me, I was going a little quicker than I wanted, but I decided that I would rather try and stick with those around me for the time being, and see how things were around the five mile mark.

Sticking onto people early on.

Sticking onto people early on.

11:20

B: Shortly after leaving the second tunnel, we passed the three-mile marker. At the time, because of the GPS issues through the tunnels, my watch only read 2.89 miles. I took the decision to reset it, meaning that my “mile beeps” would be out of synch with the display, but it would give me a better idea of the actual distances, and give me a more accurate idea of my pace a bit sooner. The first drinks station was situated not much further along, presumably at the turn around point for the 10k runners. I chose not to take anything. The course then dropped off the old railway line through a gate and down a series of slippery muddy steps onto a dirt track which led us to the village of Monkton Combe. From here, we then dropped down another set of steps onto a path which led to the Kennet and Avon Canal – which we weren’t going to leave for a while!

L: The waiting was nearly at an end. Nerves had completely overwhelmed me, and my tummy was feeling more than a little funny – I lost count of the number of toilet trips I’d made. Being in the final wave did not do me any favours. I kept nervously looking around to check that there were indeed still some green bibs left. As my wave was called, I said goodbye to my family and joined the warm up. I’m not entirely sure why I did, as my warm up involved hanging around near the back doing some dynamic stretches. The official warm up looked far too energetic. The thought dawned that maybe this was not a day that I should be trying to run my first half marathon.

Lolly: not the one in the pink!

Lolly: not the one in the pink!

11:40

B: At the second drinks station, I took a plastic cup of water, but as usual with plastic cups, I mostly managed to spill it over myself, and swallow lots of air. It wasn’t ideal. Just beyond that drinks stations, I was pretty amazed to see the five-mile marker. It was at least half a mile too early, even taking into account all the GPS uncertainties. The next twenty minutes was entirely along the canal. I was slowly falling off the back of the group that I had been running with since the tunnels, but the nature of this section meant that they remained in view, which helped with my pacing, though I did go a little fast in mile six – my fastest mile of the race. Although this section was theoretically quite boring, it didn’t seem it at the time, as there were people cheering from the canal boats, and just enough other walkers and runners about to keep things interesting. At about seven miles in, there was another drinks station. This time, I took a bottle of water, even though we’d been told to only take these if we’d drink the whole thing. I knew I wouldn’t, but also knew that I didn’t want to swallow any more air with my water from a plastic cup! Hopefully there’d still be some left for the slower runners if they wanted one…

L: The moment had finally arrived. I tried to get a favourable starting position, but, as often happens, some people right on the line weren’t planning on setting off as quickly. This lead to a lot of weaving and dodging on the way out the field. As we headed out onto the footpath I saw a stream of runners heading the other way and tried to settle into a pace. I was well aware that this was the only section of the course I really knew. Entering the first tunnel, running didn’t feel as easy as it should. I tried to focus my attention on the other runners around me – taking the chance to cheer at a first-time 10k runner I’d met earlier.

The constant bridges through Bath.

The constant bridges through Bath.

12:00

B: Somewhere during the ninth mile, as we were entering a more populated area of Bath again, I had lost view of the group of runners I’d been with completely. There were still a couple of others around me, but we stretched out a little. Although the route to this point had been reasonably flat and easy going, this section was pretty tough. The path kept switching which side of the canal it was on, which involved a series of short, steep climbs up to bridges with lots of sharp corners. Probably due to this, mile ten was my slowest of the race to that point, and was followed by the out-and-back section along the River Avon up to Pulteney Bridge. It was nice to be around plenty of other runners again, though I feel sorry for some of the tourists – there was one family that seemed to be trying to take a photo with the bridge and weir in the background, but runners kept going past, ruining it. They were trying on both my out, and my back stint. Oops. At the end of the out-and-back, we had to collect a wristband to prove we’d done it (although no one actually checked for this at the end). There was also a drinks station, but it was a few metres further on, and there was a bit of a queue, so I opted not to take anything, aware that this was a decision that I might seriously regret later.

L: Leaving the second tunnel I knew my time on familiar ground was coming to an end. I grabbed a cup of water from the drinks station and was somewhat taken aback by the immediate sharp turn to split off. This feeling was compounded by going through a kissing gate and then heading straight down some very slippy steps. I took the opportunity to finish my water – there was no way I was running down there – and was pleased that no one behind me seemed inclined to barge past. The route headed out onto roads and there was a communal feeling that the roads were a tad steeper than expected. I passed a couple of other runners on the uphill sections, pretty convinced that this wouldn’t last.

12:20

B: After the out-and-back section, the route followed the River Avon for the next couple of miles. This included a short stint off the river, when we had to cross over a couple of zebra crossing, but this was very well managed, and didn’t lose us any time at all. Once that had been negotiated, the race started to feel very lonely. There were no signs along the river to indicate that you were going the right way (not that there was really anywhere else to go), and by this stage I couldn’t see any runners in front or behind me. Although I was convinced that I couldn’t have gone wrong, I was a bit worried about whether I was on the right track. I was also worried about the fact that we were still down at river level, and the start/finish area was… well… up. I found this section mentally very tough, though I managed to maintain a decent pace for miles eleven and twelve. Eventually, we turned up off the river and onto the pavement next to the main road which we’d entered Bath on. I knew it wasn’t much longer now… just that hill…

L: More steps. Who puts more steps in a half marathon course? The path at the bottom was nice though, both for running on and in terms of scenery. It finished with a complicated-looking road, track and car park junction that threw me for a minute. The sight of the drinks station in the car park was a welcome one, and I took a risk in asking for some nuun electrolyte solution as well as water. There was a long way to go and taking on energy felt the way to go. As it was I had plenty of time to get the water down, as a car decided to move and forced me to stop. The path out of the car park was equally frustrating, with a large number of walkers to dodge. I had to laugh at the sight of the 5 mile marker – even adjusting for GPS failure in the tunnels it was out. And so it was with a smile on my face that I joined the canal. Living fairly near the Bridgwater & Taunton Canal I’m fairly used to running on towpaths, but I’m not used to the canal being occupied. There were boats everywhere, and a real hub of energy. We soon crossed over the canal to the other side and began what would be the longest stretch of the course. Solid, flat, and cheering from ‘spectators’ on narrow boats. Pretty much ideal running conditions if you ignore the lunchtime heat. And yet despite all that I could feel myself tiring and starting to slow down.

12:40

B: Before I had to start climbing the final ascent to the finish, there was the small matter of the A36. There was a marshal posted at a pelican crossing (they’re the ones with traffic lights, and green and red men), and I was quite looking forward to the idea of a short break. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view) the lights were pretty quick in changing in favour of pedestrians, and the marshal pushed the button just before I got there, meaning that they changed as soon as I got to them, without having to stop at all. We then began what felt like a complicated section of twists and turns through some residential streets. In all honesty, Strava suggests that it really wasn’t that complicated. Nevertheless, it was a continual climb, which at this stage of a half marathon I wasn’t too keen on, and I dropped to a walk around the 13.1 mark. I crossed that in around 1:40, which was a PB for the distance, and boosted by that and some encouragement from a fellow runner, I picked up the pace again. I stuck with the runner up the final bit of hill, and then we both sped up as the course flattened off for the last “sprint” to the finish. In reality, I don’t think I even hit 10k pace for the last dash, but I didn’t really care, I’d finished! Some of Lolly’s family, who we’d been expecting, but hadn’t arrived when I set off, cheered me in, and one of them brought Leila over to me straight after the finish. Being completely honest though, I felt quite sick, and really just wanted a few minutes to myself. After drinking plenty of water and collecting my medal I headed back over to where Lolly’s family were gathered, to wait for her to finish.

L: People were starting to overtake me. Some were very encouraging, some were more focussed on their own goals. It was kind of the same with people out walking – some would move to the side and some were happy to make me run round mooring ropes. A runner went past me faster than the others had been and I realised this was the start of the marathon runners. One of the marathon runners seemed to be struggling a bit, as we each overtook the other a couple of times. At the drinks station I took my time to drink some water and sneak a few crisps. One of the marshals checked that I was okay which was nice, if a little embarrassing with how bad I must have looked.  Starting back up I quickly caught up with the marathon runner again, as he’d slowed to a walk. I became aware that he’d started running again, only this time he tucked in behind instead of overtaking. To start with I was slightly freaked out by having someone running straight behind me, but then I decided to use it to my advantage. My mental strength to run my own race had gone. On the other hand, if I imagined that Marathon Guy’s race relied on me keeping a constant pace then I just might keep on going. And just like that I was a metronome, working my way along the suddenly scenic canal in flowing steps. Who says running is all in the mind?

Ben didn't actually believe that there were people in costume until he saw this.

Ben didn’t actually believe that there were people in costume until he saw this.

13:00

L: It’s fair to say that, while the canal was beautiful, it became a bit of a slog. So the sight of a picturesque flight of locks was incredibly welcome. The landscape changed quickly as we headed under bridges towards the city. On one of the bridges were a group of people in costume dress, who were lovely and encouraging. A few up-and-overs followed to cross the canal, and then I got a bit confused by the mass of runners in front. Then I remembered that the course had an out-and-back section, so all became clear.

13:20

L: The marshal at the start of the section was doing a very good job of directing two lots of runners the right way. Yet more positive marshalling was on show a little further on, with a lovely lady looking up race numbers to cheer us by name. Sadly Marathon Guy was so close behind me that he was simply cheered as ‘Number 3’. Marathon Guy seemed easier for me to remember. The path got busier, and was wondering how much more ‘out’ was left when a marshal with out-stretched elastic band came into view. With the band firmly on my wrist I headed to the drinks station for more nuun and water, taking time to make sure it went down the right way. Hydrated, and very definitely most of the way through, I started to feel like things were back on track. The geography of the River Avon necessitated a few busy road crossings. A car nearly didn’t spot me at one, which freaked me out a little. Still, we were soon back down on the river path and plodding away again. Marathon Guy and I had been switching positions for a little while but were still very much running together. He persuaded a struggling runner to tag along with us, and that runner in turn was encouraging to me when I really started to run out of energy. The stretch of river seemed incredibly long, not helped by the lack of signs or marshals which almost made me wonder if we were still on track. Then the 12 mile sign appeared, and our new friend commented enthusiastically that there was only a mile to go. I didn’t have the heart to tell her.

13:40

L: The turn off the river was another awkward one, as we had to turn pretty much 270° to go back over the path and river. Running along the road was very hard-going, Marathon Guy got ahead and I never caught him back. I watched him go over the pedestrian crossing and felt guilty at how pleased I was to have to stop and wait. Like many things that seem a good idea at the time, stopping made everything worse. And I knew that I was starting back running just before the section I’d dreaded all race – the hill to get back into Oldfield Park. The road went up. Then the road went up more. I walked for that second part. After a path we were on another road, this time with lots of parked cars and narrow pavements. Just as I’d started to wonder how much more could possibly be left, I turned onto the path up to the field. Yes, up. I walked. I had nothing left. Even seeing Ben and Leila cheering couldn’t get my legs moving more. Ben ran me through the gap into the field, which was just the boost I needed to actually get my legs moving and pull off a semi-decent finish.

14:00

L: Just beyond the finish line Marathon Guy was waiting to say hi. We congratulated each other and both said that the other one had kept us going, which is kind of what meeting people during races is all about. I hugged various members of my family and then walked over with Ben to get my medal – the all important medal number 3. I happened to hear someone in front of me asking about the challenge trophies, and so knew to head over to the tents. After a bit of confusion from someone with a list I successfully picked up the fairly heavy feeling box I’d been working towards all summer. As we headed over to see my family, Ben gave me the bad news that the only food left to buy was full size pizzas or burgers. Apparently this had already been the case when he’d finished over an hour ago, so not the best planning there. In terms of atmosphere this was my least favourite of the Two Tunnels races. There were just too many people and the event was trying to do too many things. The quieter feel of July had been far more my scene.

Let's be honest, we only run for the swag...

Let’s be honest, we only run for the swag…

I’d completed my first half marathon in 2:19:12. It would be a lie to say this was within the time I was aiming for, or that I was happy with the time. The reality was that I felt rubbish before the race and continued to feel rubbish during it. But I still completed my first half marathon, and as it was a long course my longest run is now further than quite a lot of people’s!

In contrast, Ben finished in 1:41:57, an agonising 5 seconds off his half marathon PB despite the extra distance. This boded very well for the Burnham-on-Sea Half Marathon in a couple of weeks’ time.

Many thanks to my mum, auntie, uncle and cousin for providing childcare during the event. And to our daughter, for putting up with spending so many weekends watching runners.

We’ve pretty much decided not to do another race away from home together again. The split start times made everything harder, but even without that it wasn’t worth the hassle. We’re definitely more cut out for running in series.

Battle of Sedgemoor 10k: race report

by Ben

Things have got a bit busy around here over the last month, and unfortunately we’ve got a little bit behind on this blog. So.. looking back a few weeks, I ran the Battle of Sedgemoor 10k on 30 August. I ran this race last year as well, and really enjoyed it; it marked the first time that I ran sub-45, and although I beat my time a few weeks later at the Taunton 10k, I looked upon this race more fondly than Taunton.

The course begins in the middle of Langport, head off along the main road back towards Taunton, which is about two kilometres of gentle climbing. A left turn then drops back downhill, onto the Somerset Levels proper into the village of Mulcheney (yes, the one that was in the news because it was completely cut off during the bad flooding.) This middle part of the run is pretty flat, as the location would suggest, before a climb towards the end back up to the top of Langport. Finally, the last kilometre (ish) is all downhill back to the finish in the middle of town. The whole course is run on open roads, but is very well marshalled, and as far as I can recall, only one turn requires crossing traffic.

My race went almost perfectly. I headed off at a decent, but not crazy, pace for the initial mile climbing out of Langport, and then let myself go a little bit more as I swept down the hill off the main road. I maintained a reasonably steady pace through the first three miles; 6:48, 6:52, 6:48. Having not raced a flat 10k for a while, I wasn’t sure where my pace should be, but those miles felt reasonably comfortable, and a new parkrun PB of 20:15 a few weeks earlier had given me confidence that running sub-7 minute miles was perfectly doable over the distance. Over the next couple of miles, my pace did drop off a little, but while I would prefer that it didn’t, this is a common feature of my 10k races, and one that I plan for. That part of the course is a little boring, following a reasonably long straight road for most of miles four and five, and splits of 7:00 and 7:09 weren’t unreasonable. After the fifth mile, I ramped my pace back up a little along a flat section at the top of Langport, before letting my legs stretch out as we dropped down the hill back into the town. At this stage I could see one of my club-mates, Clive – who I frequently train with, about twenty to thirty metres ahead of me, and thought that I might have had a chance of catching him. Unfortunately, he pushed on too and I didn’t get any closer to him. Despite not catching Clive, I passed a few runners with my extended fast finish, and still just about managed to press on to a sprint for a final fifty metres or so.

I finished in 42:19; a new PB by over a minute. Although before the race I would have told you that my only target was to set a new PB, I had been harbouring a quiet desire to go sub-42, but that will have to wait for another race. After this race, it’s a few weeks until the Two Tunnels half marathon, and in between, a trip away with my wife’s family to the Yorkshire Dales: lots of food, alcohol and relatively late nights, none of which is particularly helpful for half marathon training!!

Haselbury Trail 10k: race report

by Ben

This race was on my list for last year, but a combination of a cold and a bad ankle meant that I wasn’t able to take part. So this year, I didn’t want to miss out! As with most of the Somerset Series races, there were places left to register on the night, and as this is the only race that I’m aware of that doesn’t charge anything extra to do so, I took that option. Despite running injury free for a few months now, I’m still very wary of signing for anything too far in advance: I reckon I lost about £75 in race entries in the first half of the year that I wasn’t able to run because of my knee injury!

I’d been half expecting that, like at the Tin Tin Ten in June, there would be no other members of my club at the race. However, after a little tempting, I managed to suggest to Phil that I could give him a lift, and then Clive also decided to come along, giving us both a lift. I found this a little bit strange – I’ve never had a lift to a race before, and while it was really nice to receive, it also weirdly affected my preparation. When we arrived at the venue, we also found Nigel from my club, so all-in-all, we were reasonably well represented.

Preparation-wise, I can hardly blame the drive there: I’d woken up with what I would delicately describe as “stomach problems”, and indelicately describe as “the runs”. It did improve as the day went on, but I never felt tip-top. To add to this, I had an early start to make sure that I could get down to see a customer in Liskeard and back in time for the race.

Just making sure I get my excuses in early.

North Perrott Cricket Club during an actual match of cricket, rather than a 10k race.

North Perrott Cricket Club during an actual match of cricket, rather than a 10k race.

Anyway, arrived at race, signed up, yar-de-yar-de-yar. A few minutes early we were all stood on the road outside the cricket ground (the start and finish was on the outfield – the bar and kitchen were inside, good times!) We were all ready to go:

“5 – 4 – 3 – ” The countdown came over the loudspeaker.

“Car! Car! Car!” We shrieked, as (shock) a car drove up the road towards us. Had the car appeared ten seconds later, there would have been all kinds of chaos. I honestly don’t know if they would have called us all back to start again, or if we’d have just had to clamber around and over the car as necessary!

After the poor young girl driving the car had driven past and received a round of applause from the assembled crowd of runners (in what was probably quite intimidating fashion) we were all ready to go again.

“5 – 4 – 3 – ” The countdown came again.

“2 – 1 – GO!”

We went. Waa-hoo, a downhill start. Oh bugger, that means it’ll be an uphill finish. Still, on the bright side, this hill was nothing on what was to come. After a short stretch of road, we turned down the driveway for Perrott Hill School, through their car park, along a single-track road and then turned off into a field. In some ways, this field was the trickiest part of the course, as it involved running diagonally down a hill. (If that makes any sense. Rather than running straight down, we ran, sort of, along and down.) This made the chances of turning an ankle, or just plain slipping much greater, and while there was no established path, and thus we could have zig-zagged to take the hill more safely, that would have clearly added on distance, and frankly avoiding injury isn’t THAT important – it’s a race, dontcha know?!

This first stretch of the lap – did I mention there were laps? It was a two lap course. Anyway, this first stretch of the lap was mostly through open fields, and after that first diagonal descent, the running was reasonably easy: towards the second half of the lap things got more… interesting.

One of many stiles on the route (credit: Crewkerne RC)

One of many stiles on the route (credit: Crewkerne RC)

Stile, stile, ford crossing, stile, stile, wooden bridge, stile, stile, slippy wooden bridge, stile, hill, stile. And I’m pretty certain I missed some stiles. The whole course was exceptionally well marshalled, with people placed to warn of inconveniently located posts, slippy bridges, and just to offer a cheery shout as we trudged past. This was even more welcome on the second lap when the rain had settled in! I enjoyed the course – there were perhaps a few too many stiles to be able to settle into a rhythm, but that’s the nature of this sort of race. The hill at the end of the lap destroyed me first time around, and I dropped back from the people I had been running with. As a result of this, I basically ran the entire second lap about fifteen seconds behind the group of runners in front of me, and much the same from the runners behind me, giving the illusion that I’d just gone out for a run on my own.

Overall I was happy enough with my time of 47:08 on a tricky off-road 10k, but I think I could have done better. I tried to chase Clive a little bit too much near the start, which killed my legs too early in the race, meaning that I settled into a slower “race pace” that I would have liked. The lack of anyone around me on the second lap probably meant that I didn’t push enough: the gap was too big for me to mentally try and bridge, and there wasn’t pressure from behind to speed me up either. I probably also pushed too much on the hill first lap, and should have dropped to a walk sooner, but it really didn’t look as bad as it actually was. Still, all in all, I really enjoyed the race – all the Somerset Series races seem to have a good atmosphere, and it’s good to see familiar faces between them.

I collected my second tumbler as a finishing memento – more practical than a medal, although to be honest, we have enough glassware in our house anyway, and then had enough time for a burger from the kitchen before we headed home. My next race? The next Somerset Series race of course, the Battle of Sedgemoor 10k at the end of the month.

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.

Devonshire Tunnel

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

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!

Medals

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!

Quantock Beast: race report

by Ben

In the past few weeks, I’ve been making an effort to incorporate more hills into my training. This came about for two main reasons: Firstly at the start of June I ran the Crewkerne 10k, which was an… undulating race that I was woefully unprepared for. Secondly, I’ve recently been looking through my running logs and realised quite how flat the majority of my runs are. Running in Taunton, and primarily along the river and canal, this is hardly a surprise, but all the more reason that I needed to make a special effort.

With some club mates at the start.

With some club mates at the start. Credit: Lolly.

So, the Quantock Beast seemed like an ideal opportunity: a small race local race (five miles from home) with a fair bit of climb over a relatively short distance. In the week leading up to the race, I began my “hill hunting” in earnest: last Sunday I tackled (got lost on) Cothelstone Hill, to clock up 258 metres of climbing, easiest my most ever, and then on Tuesday I managed to find 163 metres in a run from my house, which mostly involved trying to run as far from Taunton as I could manage and still get back in time for breakfast. While I’m sure that this will pay dividends with my long-term running development, I did belatedly realise that it perhaps a little foolhardy in terms of short-term race preparation. But then, it’s not like I had a 5.5 mile race time to try and beat!

The race starts and ends at a free admission National Trust property, Fyne Court. This provided a lovely location to mill around in before and after the race, and also an area suitable for my toddler to charge around in while I was racing: something my wife and brother assure me she did plenty of!

Fyne Court, when not full of runners! Credit: Rose and Trev Clough

Fyne Court, when not full of runners! Credit: Rose and Trev Clough

A short briefing before the race mentioned some of the marshalling and route problems from the previous year, when a variety of routes were run as people went off track in a few different places. We were assured that this year there were plenty of marshals, arrows and marker tape to prevent the problems being repeated. After a further warning about a fallen tree we’d have to clamber over, we were off! I intentionally positioned myself slightly further back in the pack to try and avoid haring off too fast, but the plan back-fired slightly, as after an initial road section, we climbed onto some narrow paths on which overtaking was impossible. I spent a while stuck running slower than I would like, but when the path opened up onto a field, I was able to move through the pack in front of me a little more easily. Around this point, I fell into sync with a runner in a fluorescent vest, and we ran together for most of the next two miles. Which was a steep descent, followed by a long, long, long ascent.

I soon adopted a tactic of run – walking up the hill. For all those around me were running quickly enough that I did drop back when I walked, I found I was gradually making up ground on those ahead of me by doing it. I know some people try to avoid walking during a run, but personally, in a race, I’ll use which ever method I think will get me to the end quickest. Towards the top of the hill, I began to pull away from the runner I’d been with for a while: at the end he told me that he’d tried his best to stay with me, but just hadn’t been able to.

Sprint finish

What a face! Credit: Lolly.

The climb got a little muddier towards the top, although the hot weather recently made the terrain much better than it could be. One runner I spoke to on the climb said that things had been a lot worse last year! I passed two more runners during the final stage of the ascent, and slotted in behind a chap from Weston AC as we weaved our way through the trees. At one point, one of the arrows had fallen slightly and appeared to be pointing down the right-hand fork, but the marker tape continued along the left-hand fork, and so we headed that way. (Apparently, not everyone did, and there was a fair bit of moaning and groaning at the end about people going off course “again”! Personally, I felt that the marking was fine, although as I was following another runner through this section I can’t tell for sure whether I’d have gone wrong or not if I was on my own.)

The route dropped downhill from this point, and soon moved onto the road for the last mile. I allowed myself to speed up as we cruised downhill, although I was a little wary that I didn’t know the course well enough to be sure that there wasn’t another climb or off-road section, so I was careful not to push too hard. As it turned out, I ran my fastest kilometre of the year to end the race, and even put in a sprint finish, despite there being no one close in front or behind me. Although I was slightly worried that I would trip over the toddler who ran out into the finish funnel in front of me… yes, my own daughter!

After a chat with a few other members of the club, including a couple that I hadn’t seen at the start, we headed home, to enjoy a well deserved (in my opinion at least) Nando’s!

Tin Tin Ten (2015): race report

by Ben

Prior to this race, I spent a bit of time perusing my race report and Strava details from last year’s race. I made a couple of interesting observations: the second mile had been the toughest, and I’d not helped my chances by sharing a bottle of wine with a pizza meal the night before. To put it succinctly, I had some clear areas in which to improve. So, obviously, this year I prepared for the race by having a takeaway pizza and half a bottle of wine on Tuesday night. Ah. At race registration, further issues presented themselves: the race was reversed, and followed a slightly different course from last year.

So much for race preparation.

Credit: Keith Rendell

Evening races confuse me; wasn’t I meant to be sleeping?! Credit: Keith Rendell

Still, other aspects went a little better: in comparison to last year, when it had pretty much rained non-stop for the week before, and was raining during the race itself, this year was a sun-fest. Solid underfoot, and a lovely warm (but not too warm) evening meant that quick times were in order. I was a little more sensible with my lunch and made sure to rest as much as I could through the afternoon.

If I was to take lessons from this race, the first would be based upon the above: look at last year’s mistakes, and learn from them. The second would be this: at the published start time of the race, be at the start line.

Sounds simple, but at 7 o’clock, most of us were still loitering around in the clearing near the start, and then gradually started meandering towards the start line. We had more or less started clumping together, but not in any sort of order, when suddenly people started running. I didn’t hear a starting klaxon or any shouts, but there was obviously something. Unexpectedly, I found myself much further back in the field than I had wanted to be, needing to weave my way through slower runners. I was far from the only person with this problem, and it caused a little bit of chaos. Especially as not far from the start, we entered a series of narrow paths, and passing was all but impossible.

As a result, I probably went off too quickly, catching and passing a few people that I expected to finish somewhere in the region of pretty quickly. The problem was, having passed them, rather than settle in, I unintentionally maintained my quicker pace, and exerted a little too much energy too quickly. One nice aspect of the reversed course was that the two out-and-back stints were both early in the race. While I don’t mind an out-and-back, they can be pretty demoralising towards the end of a race (this was particularly bad at the Great West Run). Whereas in this case, having them nearer the start was actually quite nice, particularly now that I’m starting to recognise some of the regular runners, and can gauge how I’m doing in comparison to them.

The other main result of the course reversal was that much of the first half of the race was on roads, while the second half was predominantly trail routes across fields. Not only fields, but the hillier part of the course too. Through this middle stint of the race, I was starting to get somewhat annoyed by the “song” going around my head. The latest Pharrell tune, maybe a bit of classic rock? No, the theme song to “Raa Raa the Noisy Lion”, a CBeebies show that my daughter watches. For reference:

Unfortunately, not only was this a slightly irritating tune to have constantly going around my head, but I also didn’t know most of the words. So much I was humming and going “Raa Raa!” Oh well.

Still, although the song was sending me slightly loopy, it did help to distract me from the actual running. Having the more difficult terrain, the stiles and the hills in the second half was tough, and my legs were certainly starting to feel it trying to clamber over those stiles towards the end! Still, I managed to slowly catch and pass runners over the last couple of kilometres. The final kilometre was my fastest of the race, so I obviously hadn’t completely overexerted myself!

I was very happy with a time of 45:29, a few seconds quicker than I’d managed in Crewkerne, and a big chunk faster than this event last year (mainly because of the dry conditions!) In all honesty, I probably preferred it last year, with a bit more of the race off-road, and in wetter, muddier conditions, but it was still a very enjoyable race, and one I’m planning to do again next year.

Crewkerne 10k: race report

by Ben

On the way home from the race, I was chatting on the phone to Lolly, who had stayed at home with our daughter. She asked me how the race was. “You go up, then down, then up, then down, then up a lot, then down, then up, then down, then up a steep hill, then down, then up, and then you finish.” If you’re short on time, that’s the race.

Okay, okay, there’s a bit more to it than that. For me, this race has been a long time coming. Since picking up a knee injury back in January, I’ve had a long road to recovery. I did manage a 10k when we were over on the Isle of Man, but it proved a bit of a false start, and it has taken me another two months to get back out for another. The idea for this race was reasonably simple: get out, run a hard 10k and see how my knee does. The secondary aim was to see what sort of shape I was in. Although I’ve managed to do a few parkruns in the last month or so, I didn’t really have a real idea of what sort of time I could do. Before the race, I tentatively set myself a goal time of around 46 minutes, but that was before I found out quite how hilly the course was. My expectations quickly adjusted to “anything under 50 minutes”.

As well as being an excited return to racing action, Crewkerne was the first time I was using Event Clips to attach my race number. I have to admit, I was a little concerned about them: I was very suspicious about how well they would stay attached. But, I have to say, they were both extremely simple to attach (once I’d taken my top off, at least) and stayed on without a problem. I’d definitely recommend them to anyone who races regularly.

You can just see me in my red sunglasses - honest!

You can just see me in my red sunglasses – honest!

Although I wasn’t aware of any club-mates taking part in the race beforehand, I briefly met Helen (@Happy2bHp) in Race HQ, and then as we were all making our way to the start line, I saw Clive, and we had a bit of a chat. Between Clive and Matt (@bodwen) from Minehead RC I learnt some interesting things about the course, most importantly that although a lasso course, you had to keep running past the start line to reach the finish line. This was valuable information, as it prevented me repeating my embarrassing trick of hitting a sprint finish too early, like I did on the Isle of Man last year.

Despite an announcement that the first man and first woman to reach the top of the hill at the start would receive a prize, I opted for a gentle start to the race (there was never any danger of me beating Kieran to the top anyway!) I was a little rusty at maintaining a race pace, and spent the first few kilometres passing and being passed by the same cluster of runners. However, after a while we all more or less settled into our positions – by which I mean I sorted my pacing out!

The course was run almost entirely on country roads, and climbed out of Crewkerne for a couple of kilometres before looping around the villages of Merriott and Hinton St George, and then coming back down the first two kilometres. As a result, when I was coasting down the first long steep descent, rather than enjoying it, I was instead coming to the horrific realisation that I was going to have to run back up it later. Still, hills are good for you. Or so people keep telling me. The sole drink station was just after the 2 kilometre point, meaning that there were drinks at roughly 2 and 8 kilometres. Stupidly, I misremembered there being another drink station at around 6 kilometres, and opted against a drink at the first station. I rued that decision.

Once the 10k route split off into the loop, the course dropped gently into Merriott, a pretty village that I didn’t pay any attention to at all. Unfortunately, as all runners know, what goes down must come up again, and the course then rose gradually to Hinton St George, another extremely pretty village. It was very much a gentle climb, but as such, the type that you keep trying to run hard along, with the result of slowly tiring you out. You know, even more than normal in a race! From Hinton St George, the course undulated for a while before reaching that final (well, not quite) big climb. By this point we were steadily catching and passing some of the 5k runners, and encouragement was being yelled both ways.

The pretty Hinton St George: not that I noticed!

The pretty Hinton St George: not that I noticed!

By this stage, my legs had basically had it. I still had energy to give, but my calves and thighs were struggling. I dropped to a walk for about 10 seconds up the hill, but I managed to stay in the touch with the Yeovil Town runner that I was with. Dropping back down the next hill, the climb from the start of the race, my leg muscles, which would normally be helping to control my descent, had given up, and I basically “fell” down the hill in a mad arm-waving running motion. (Okay, I might be over dramatising this, but it felt pretty out of control.) That descent took us back to the start line… but of course there was still a bit left. And of course… it was up hill. Still, it was nearly the end of the race, and only a short dash to the top, followed by a sprint around the corner to the finish.

Wow – what a return to racing in Somerset! I’d known for a while that I was going to be well under 50 minutes. But as it turned out, I was under 46 minutes: 45:35!! So, some work to be done to get back to PB pace, but I’ve got an idea of where I am now, and more importantly, the confidence in my knee to do it.

Some plaudits have to be given now: the race was exceptionally well organised by Crewkerne Running Club: the course itself was very well laid out, and even included signs showing where each Strava segment started and ended. Personally, I wasn’t about to start segment hunting during a race, but it added an interesting element nonetheless. Similarly, the “king (and queen) of the mountain” is a fun feature, even if one I didn’t have a chance of winning. The water stations were very well organised for a local race like this, and although I would have preferred bottles to cups, I appreciate there is a significant difference in cost. All the marshals were very friendly, which always provides a bit of a boost, particularly in these smaller races. So, would I recommend it? Definitely – just get some hill training in first!

Disclaimer: I paid full price for my race entry and my Event Clips, and was not asked to review either of them. Photo credits: Western Gazette and Nick Chipchase.

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,