Tag Archives: Somerset

Wellington Monument Race: race report

by Ben

The last few months have been pretty quiet for me on the racing front. Way back in July and August, I ran the Pawlett Plod and the Wessex 10k, posting my third and fourth fastest 10k times. I had then hoped to run the Taunton 10k to set a new 10k PB. Unfortunately, I basically didn’t bother to put in the hard yards in training, and didn’t run Taunton at all. Since then, my training has continued to be inconsistent until a few weeks ago. And, although I have managed to improve my consistency, I am still lower on mileage than I would like to be.

Not ideal.

All that said and considered, the Wellington Monument Race was never going to be a PB attempt. It starts in Hemyock, roughly 128 metres above sea-level, and then climbs and climbs to Wellington Monument, the world’s tallest three-sided obelisk, about 272 metres above sea-level. Then we turn around, and go all the way back down (and up, a little). The monument is having some work done at the moment, so isn’t quite as picturesque as usual – this also had a slight knock-on effort on the race distance.

Wellington Monument vs Wellington Monument at the moment…

For some reason (probably mostly because it isn’t in the Somerset Series), this is a race that I’ve never done before, even though it is under half an hour from home. In fact, although Wellington Monument is in Somerset, Hemyock is in Devon – thankfully I wasn’t asked for my passport though. (They are funny, thems Devon folk.)

Pre-race

A local race meant a bit of a lie-in, although only until 8 am, as the race was a 10 am start. Originally Lolly was going to take Lani down to Exeter for junior parkrun, but Lani sensibly decided to have a morning off: they will be plenty of opportunities to parkrun over the next week or so! Despite the whole family now being free, I travelled down alone, and found a parking space in the village, just under half a mile from the start.

After making sure I had everything I needed from the car, and nothing much that I didn’t, I headed over to Hemyock Primary School, which hosted the race. It was all pretty easy and straightforward: number collected, pre-race poo, number pinned onto vest, warm-up run, hoodie stashed, jog to the start. During the jog to the start, I realised that I was a bit warm with a long-sleeve tee under my race vest, and found a fellow RFRC member who was spectating to abandon it with.

The race
Where’s Ben?

Compared to most of the races I do, this one attracted a fast field. I had noticed this when I checked the entry list the evening before, but it became even more obvious when I was waiting at the start. He’s quicker than me, he’s quicker than me, he’s definitely quicker than me… But this was never about time or position – for once I was just racing for the… uhmmm, fun(?)… of it.

The race started on a road junction about quarter of a mile away from the school, and then dropped down through the village… Ah, ‘dropped down’. In an out-and-back. Bummer dude. I had done minimal homework on this race – as far as I was aware it was an out-and-back in which the first half was uphill, and the second half downhill. With a short muddy stretch at the top around the Monument. Maybe I should have done more research – it was clearly a little more nuanced.

I mostly focused on trying not to run too fast, before the hill started. But then… blimey. Again, a lack of research meant that I didn’t realise that the first climb out out of Hemyock was the toughest part of the whole race. I survived that climb by using a common strategy: If no one else I can see is walking, then I don’t need to walk either… Around a mile and a half in, the course then descended gently for half a mile. Oh blimey, not again! Andy, who I used to run with regularly, was marshalling at this point and shouted some encouragement at me, but I was so zoned in on the run, and the effort, that I didn’t really notice who it was until it was too late to respond!

Actually, I think this is sort of bollocks, given that it isn’t really a mirror image: that bit near the end should be as low as the bit at the start. This Garmin elevation monitor thing obviously isn’t working great. But anyway, observe steep climb near the start.

The course climbed again after that short descent, but the hill was less vicious now, and was softened somewhat by the knowledge that there was less than a mile of ‘up’ left. A left turn was coned off and very well marshalled, and then we crossed the road into a muddy car park to make the last bit of the ascent to the monument. In all honesty, by this stage it was barely a climb at all. Because of the renovation work on the monument, we just rounded some cones and a marshal at the top, and then it was just back again!

The descent was relatively straightforward. On the top part of the hill, it was gentle enough to encourage without being too dramatic. The half-mile ‘climb’ where Andy was marshalling didn’t feel too bad; it was mostly just flat, rather than a hill either way. I even managed to thank him this time around, and apologise for not doing so on the way up!

After Andy’s marshalling spot though was the steep drop; the part that had been so horrible on the way up. I hoped that my downhill running would help me here, but in all honesty, the field was so spread by this point that it didn’t really make much difference. I went past one chap who looked like he was struggling with something, and I closed in on another runner, but as soon as the course levelled off I stopped gaining on him.

For me, this last part was the toughest of the whole race. Thankfully, someone had told me beforehand that the finish was at the school, and thus that extra quarter of a mile beyond the start line. It was a slog back up through the village, with more of a climb up to the school itself. In reality, it should have faded into insignificance in comparison to the main climb we had endured earlier in the race. But that isn’t how running works.

Still, despite having no one around me, I think I managed to push myself well enough to the finish. I did feel that the marshalling, which was so good all the way around the course, could have done with being a bit clearer, and more present, for that final climb. I naturally found myself on the pavement, only to be shouted at very late on that I needed to move onto the road, which left me dodging through a narrow gap between parked cars to do so. But that was probably just me.

I didn’t look at my watch when I crossed the finish line. In fact, I didn’t check my time until a few hours after the race. As I said, it wasn’t really that sort of race for me. However, I’m pretty chuffed with a 43:44. Roughly speaking, I ran 23:34 for the first half of the race and 20:10 for the second half. Which is pretty good, but also slightly disappointing that I didn’t manage to run sub-20 for the predominantly downhill 5k…

On the other hand, using Strava’s ‘grade-adjusted pace’, my 43:44 is equivalent to a 41:42 on a flat course, which would have been a PB, so, you know. Not so bad. In a fortnight I have the Stoke Stampede, which I ran way back in December 2013, my first ever sub-50 minute 10k. There would be a nice symmetry to it being my first sub-40, but there is no way I’m in that sort of form. But maybe, just maybe, I can get the PB I’m craving?

Post race

Immediately after the race, I had a chat in the school hall with Nadine, and then collected my cider from Emma. I ambled back through the village towards my car, but stopped to have a lengthy chinwag with Simon, before eventually I got too cold, and headed to my car. Did I mentioned that this race was very local, and so I knew a lot of the volunteers? The support, not just from those I knew, was exceptional throughout the race.

On my drive home, I stopped off for a foot-long Chicken Pizziola from Subway… because Subway is good post-race ‘recovery’ food.

  • Did I enjoy this race? Sort of. I mean, no. But yes.
  • Would I do this race again? Yes, probably.
  • What’s next? Race-wise, the Stoke Stampede on 5 January 2020, but there’s a Christmas Day parkrun and two New Years’ Day parkruns before then…

parkrun tourism: Clevedon Salthouse Fields parkrun

by Lolly

I don’t know what it is about winter, but for some reason a lot of our touring seems to happen in the dark, cold and miserable months. Having floated through most of the year, suddenly we found ourselves creating tourism plans for November and December. This weekend we needed to be in Taunton at 11am, so we needed one of those magical events that is less than an hour away; oh and buggy friendly of course. Happily, just such an event started in September.

Clevedon Salthouse Fields parkrun takes place in Clevedon Salthouse Park and surrounding area. The easy drive from Taunton meant that, having left the house just after quarter to 8, we pulled up at half past 8. This was just as well, as we’d completely failed to read on the course page that the toilets cost 20p. So we popped down the road to Asda to use their toilets (which I feel justified doing given the small fortune I spend at Asda each week), and also noticed they have an instant photo printer by the tills (useful for forgotten barcodes).

Back at the park, we paid for our parking by app as usual (one day we will take coins to these things) and got set up. Ben took Lani to look at the marine lake, and re-iterated that she was not allowed to push him in it (unlike big puddles). Meanwhile KK and I made it round the park in time to hear the run briefing, which covered everything you could wish for, including emphasising the importance of things like not double-dipping in a friendly way. We all re-united on the way to the start.

A family group preparing to run
One day we’ll get good at this…

After a very audible countdown (thank you!) we were off. The first lap is a short trip around the main part of the park. The closed-off section of car park is nice and wide, with a couple of speed bumps that went down well with KK, but the rest of the lap involves narrow paths and sharp corners. I did look at going out onto the grass to overtake a couple of times, but it was completely sodden and so not worth it. We went past the station for the miniature railway, and apparently the train was out, but I was too busy focusing on not clipping ankles.

Once we’d completed 6 sides of the field, the clear signs directed us left onto the seafront, and down to the marine pool. The path runs right along the side of the pool, and the uninterrupted sea views are a massive contrast to the fairly typical park that was left behind. The path slopes back up at the end of the pool, and we re-joined the raised seafront path.

Marine lake and sea, as seen from upper promenade
Not just another puddle

The longest section of the lap is an out-and-back along this path, with plenty of views of the pier in the out section. Advice to keep left was made clear throughout, and repeated by each marshal. The path slopes down before the turnaround point, which was a clearly-signed hairpin round cones. Once I was back on the level path, I saw Lani and Ben heading the opposite way, so managed a high-5 as we passed.

A slope down takes you back to the main park, and the fastest runners were already heading right into the funnel as I got there. For me though there was another lap. The 3 sides of the grass were fine, but as I headed towards the marine pool I realised I was struggling. Happily the beautiful views gave me something to focus on, and I somehow dragged myself back up the slope. On the out-and-back I decided I would walk back up the slope, but of course by the time I got there I chose to focus on cheering other runners and found I got up no problem.

I passed Lani and Ben again as I sloped down towards the finish, and was sadly not feeling strong enough to take a hand off the buggy. Having been entirely tarmac the whole way round, the actual finish itself is on the grass, but thankfully it wasn’t too soggy. Stopping my watch I saw I’d taken a little over 32 minutes, which seemed a fairly accurate reflection of my fitness levels.

Three runners going past a skate park
How long has Lani been able to levitate?

The queue for scanning was really long, so having collected my token I took KK out the buggy and went to take some photos. Knowing we still had a few minutes left, I let KK have a little run around on the upper path. To my surprise, I then saw Lani and Ben running towards the finish. Lani beat her PB (from Torbay Velopark) by almost 4 minutes!

It was a shame that we had to go straight home, as there was an amazing food smell from somewhere, and a fantastic looking playpark. But we did have to get back to Taunton – albeit slightly late and via an obscure route thanks to the motorway closure.

Clevedon Salthouse Fields parkrun gets the best of two worlds with its location – both park and sea. The volunteers were amazing; such a supportive and welcoming team. The course was very accessible, and clearly PB friendly! Buggies will need to remember to be patient on lap 1, and it’s worth noting that dogs aren’t allowed. We’d all very much recommend this one, and we’ll definitely be heading back in future.

So… where next?

A family group in front of a sea view
With thanks to the guy who made sure to include the pier in photos for at least 4 groups of tourists

Wessex 10k: race report

by Ben

Right, how does this writing thing work? I’ve missed a few race reports; the last one I wrote was for the Town Tree Trail, back in May. Since then I’ve ran the Crewkerne 10k (abandoned draft blog post), Piddle Wood Plod, the Quantock Beast (another abandoned post), and the Pawlett Plod. As a quick summary:

  • Crewkerne 10k: pretty good
  • Piddle Wood Plod: meh
  • Quantock Beast: good
  • Pawlett Plod: felt not great, but pretty good actually

This race was the first part of my planned summer of speed, aiming to improve my 10k PB, and ideally set a sub-40 time. Unfortunately, after a good first half of my eight-week training ahead of this race, the wheels fell off somewhat, and I’ve barely done anything over the last four weeks. So, coming into this race, I didn’t really know what I’d be able to do. Sub-40 wasn’t going to be in the picture, but maybe I could still get a new 10k PB? To review, my planned targets are:

  • Gold: 39:59 (sub-40)
  • Silver: 41:23 (distance PB)
  • Bronze: 42:05 (race PB)
Pre-race
Ready to race

I chose the Wessex 10k because it described itself as “a fairly flat mainly road”. I had a look at some of the Strava traces from last year, and decided that the hill looked small enough that this could still be considered a decent PB route. The date also worked out quite nicely, and I seem to recall that it was priced relatively reasonably too. (Just checked, £16.) What I failed to notice until a couple of weeks before the race was that it was a 19:00 start time on the Saturday; I had spotted it was on a Saturday, but not that it was an evening race. This threw me off a little: I have it in my head that I don’t race so well in the evening, and I was just annoyed at not having noticed.

In the end though, being in the evening worked quite well; it meant that we still had all of the day on Saturday as a family, and would have on Sunday too (though I’m sat here writing this, so go figure.) I left just after five, which gave me lots of time to get to Somerton and then bimble around for plenty of time before the start. I didn’t have to worry about registration, as the race number had been sent out through the post. Just after half six I started my warm-up; I had intended to go for a longer warm-up, as I generally find them more effective, but it ended up being just over a mile, which is about my normal.

At around five to seven, we started to gather at the start line, and I got chatting to another chap on the start line, but it quickly became apparent that I wouldn’t be using him as a pacer; he was aiming for around 38 minutes! In the inaugural race in 2018, only six runners went sub-40, so I was half aware that there might not be too many ahead of me, and so lined up in the front row.

The race

I almost managed to not go off too fast. As I wasn’t too sure what time I would be capable of, I opted to aim for 41 minutes, and see what happened. That would equate to a time of 4:06 per kilometre. After the initial rush, I settled down to 3:55 for the first kilometre, which was pretty flat, heading out of the sports club, along the main road, and then hooked right onto the back-roads. It was obvious that there were more quick runners than in 2018, but that was to be expected for the second year of an event.

Shortly after the end of the first kilometre, we started to drop down the hill; this was the same one that we would return up later. And, well, it looked worse than I had hoped. In place of the gentle slope I had been expecting, or at least hoping for, was a genuine hill. Okay, no worries, I could make time up heading down the hill, and just see how well I could hold on up the hill in the second half. Downhill-assisted, the second kilometre clocked in at 3:45, and the third, still with a modest descent, was 3:58, leaving me 40 seconds up on an even-split 41:00 time. But of course, it wouldn’t be an even-split race, and I was aware that I could lose close to that same 40 seconds on the hill alone.

Any hopes of managing to make up more time, or at least hold steady were immediately dashed, as at the 3 km marker, we started on the rough stuff. A dusty, rocky, pot-holed farm track. This wasn’t part of my plan, and brought back memories of the Bridgwater 10k way back in 2014, when I destroyed myself chasing a PB on a course with a farm-track in the middle. Thankfully, I’m a bit more experienced now, but I was still losing time against my 41 minute target. Partly, this was probably just lack of fitness due to my reduced training lately, but the terrain clearly won’t have helped. Through the fourth and fifth kilometres, I clocked 4:13 and 4:19, taking me through five kilometres in 20:11; still theoretically 19 seconds up on my target, but in reality, starting to really struggle.

I’d developed an odd pain high on my chest; either my lung or a muscular pain, I couldn’t tell which. It was annoying without being debilitating, but I was very much hoping that it didn’t get worse. Just after the halfway stage, we had the only drinks station on the course, from which I took a quick swig, and then we returned to the road. I tried to get my legs turning over a bit quicker on the better surface, but to little avail; the next three kilometres came in at 4:36, 4:30, 4:30.

Not the best running form late in the race! (Credit: Martin Edwards)

Then the hill hit. It actually was not so bad as I had worried; I managed to run up the whole thing. That shouldn’t have been an achievement, but I’ve really struggled with hills this year for some reason, so I was pretty proud of it. The hill last for pretty much a whole kilometre, starting just before the 8 km marker in actual fact, and correspondingly, finished just before 9 km. It was by far my slowest kilometre of the race, a 4:54, but Strava’s grade-adjusted pace (GAP) was 4:25, which was quicker than my GAP for kilometres six and seven.

Over the top of the hill, and I knew I just had a kilometre to go. I willed my body to run faster, damn it! I managed it. Not consistently, but effectively; I oscillated between a 3:50 and 4:20 pace, and despite telling myself that I was now in energy-saving mode ahead of another race on Wednesday, I engaged in a sprint-finish when the runner behind me tried to get past. Helped by his push at the end, I ducked in just under 42 and a half minutes, officially posting a time of 42:28.

Post-race

After getting my breath back from my quick finish, I grabbed a cup of water, and then had another chat with the chap I’d been taking to before the race. After a quick analysis of each of our races, I commented that I noticed he was from 26.2 RRC (the best running club in Surbiton), made famous by Danny Norman on the With Me Now podcast. It turned out that I’d been chatting to none other than Chauffeur Ramek – what a small world it is! After some more parkrun chat, we headed off our different ways.

Shiny medal!

The medal was really nice; probably the second biggest in my collection, though I don’t really do the type of races that give big medals. (Because I’m cheap.) (Because I race so much that if I did expensive races, we would miss our mortgage payments.)

How about my time? It ranks as my fourth best 10k time; just behind my Pawlett Plod time from a few weeks ago:

  • 42:06, Chard Flyer, January 2017
  • 42:19, Battle of Sedgemoor 10k, August 2015
  • 42:23, Pawlett Plod, July 2019
  • 42:28, Wessex 10k, August 2019
  • 43:18, Round the Tor 10k, May 2016

That two of my quickest ever 10k times have come this year is encouraging. That my two overall quickest times are two and four years old respectively is disappointing. It’s another eight weeks now until the Taunton 10k, and if I want to get a new PB, then I simply have to put the training in. No excuses.

  • Did I enjoy this race? If I’m honest, not really. But that was no fault of the race, or the course. Sure, I’d have liked the hill to be flatter, and the rough track to be smoother. In reality though, I just wasn’t fit enough to run this race as I wanted.
  • Would I do this race again? Probably not, no. I signed up hoping that it was a good PB course, and it wasn’t really. If it was a Somerset Series race, I’d do it and enjoy it well enough, I’m sure. But as a standalone race, it probably won’t be for me again. Never say never though, I guess.
  • What’s next? The Haselbury Trail 10k on Wednesday.

I don’t want to race (Yeovilton 5k race report)

by Lolly

I don’t want to race.
I’m tired.
I feel rundown.
I don’t want to see people.
I just want to curl up and read.
But I’ve signed up, so I’ll go.

I don’t know where anything is.
The air is hot and heavy.
I don’t run well in the evening.
I pick up my number.
I get changed.
I hide in my car.

I feel silly warming up next to fast people.
I avoid conversations.
I’m uncomfortable waiting for the start.
I listen to the race brief.
I start running.
I want to get sub-25 today.

I hate running round the car park.
I hate there jostling for position.
I hate how fast the 25 pacer has gone off.
I feel broken already.
I’m glad I warmed up though.
I just don’t want to race.

I’m way behind at 1k.
I hope the marker was wrong.
I need to keep pushing.
I start to feel stronger.
I’m only just behind at 2k.
I start to believe.

I struggle with tiny undulations.
I worry that there might be more.
I barely notice people cheering.
I’m getting tired.
I try to keep focused.
I’ve slipped a bit at 3k.

I hear my 2 mile beep.
I know I need to give it my all.
I don’t know if my all is enough.
I start to get stomach cramps.
I’m so close to time at 4k.
But how fast can I run the final 1?

I turn back onto the main road.
I pass the 25 minute pacer.
He says we’re 15 seconds ahead.
I know he’s wrong.
I start to feel sick.
I might not actually finish at all.

I turn towards the finish.
I see the clock.
I give it my all.
I know it won’t be enough.
I keep going.
I don’t want to.

I watch the number tick over.
24:57, 24:58, 24:59, 25:00, 25:01…
I cross the line.
I didn’t make it.
I’ve failed.
And I feel really really sick.

I walk to my car.
I have a drink.
I text a couple of people.
I try to take it all in.
I try to tell myself I’ll do it next time.
But will I want to try again?

I get changed.
I buy cake and squash.
I talk to nice people.
I tell them I failed my goal.
I admit that my PB had been 25:41.
They remind me I did really well.

I eat and drink.
I start to feel better.
I drive home.
I think about my new 25:03 PB.
I didn’t want to race.
But I did.

Piddle Wood Plod: race report

by Ben

The Piddle Wood Plod is a race that I’ve wanted to do for a couple of years. But each year something else seemed to get in the way. In 2016, we were on holiday. Last year, it came the week after a string of three race weekends in a row. The physical toll of four races in four weeks didn’t really bother me. I just didn’t think that with a two-month-old son, I could push Lolly that far!!

To be honest, I didn’t really know how this race was likely to go. I ran the Crewkerne 10k the previous weekend, and did a midweek ‘race’ with Minehead RC which involved over 750 feet of climbing. On the other hand, I hadn’t done much else. Coming into race-day I’d only run 13.6 miles in the week to that point, and nothing at all Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Not great for marathon training, but a nice ‘taper’ for a 10k.

Although I hadn’t run the race before, I know the first and last part of the course pretty well, as it makes up part of the Herepath, which I have run reasonably often. I also had plenty of Strava data to examine, as plenty of my club-mates have run the race in previous years. I spent a little while examining their elevation and pace graphs to get a feel for the course. It is essentially a lollipop variant. About 1.5 miles out, then two, different loops, then the same 1.5 miles back. The first loop had a gentle climb, then a steep climb before a descent, while the second loop had a steep climb followed by a steady climb. Looking at the paces of my club-mates, all of whom are quicker than me, I noticed they’d all had to walk the steep climbs. I immediately decided that there was no point in even trying to run those parts. Race plan: complete.

Race day

The morning of the race was a little different to normal. With a relatively late 11 am start, and only being about four miles from home, we had time to go to junior parkrun as a family before we headed over to the race. Even after doing this, we made it to the race in plenty of time to get a good parking spot. I had a pretty relaxed pre-race: collect number, chat, get changed, gentle warm-up with Dom. As we gathered for the start, I initially stood a couple of metres back from the start, but soon took stock that there weren’t that many obviously quick runners around, and shuffled forwards.

As we launched off, a leading pack quickly emerged. I was controlling my pace, holding myself back from the danger of the too-quick start. A second pack soon formed behind me, though I could sense that some in the group wanted to go quicker. Who was I kidding, so did I – it was taking all my self-control not to. We turned off the road onto a narrow path through a field, and any thoughts of passing people were gone. I caught up with a runner who was obviously out of position, but just held pace behind him, happy for another excuse to not bomb off too quick. Once we were out of the field and over the road, I made my way past him, while at the same time a few from the pack eased past me. I wasn’t too concerned at this point – my focus remained on controlling my pace for the opening mile and a half, and then see how things went on the loops.

Despite my ‘controlled’ pace, I remained in touch with those around me. The leading pack had disappeared into the distance, but everyone else was very much in play. As the course got a bit more technical and a bit steeper, though still very runable, I started to ease back past people, and soon built up a gap. I’d hoped that Dom might come with me, and was worried that on my own I might soon be running a very lonely race. Thankfully, as I continued up the hill, a fluorescent racing vest came back into view. Josh, who’d done the 34-mile Dartmoor Discovery the weekend before, looked like he was struggling a bit.

I gradually closed in on Josh as we climbed the hill, though my effort was put into perspective as I was passed by another runner on the climb. When the route turned a sharp left, I knew it was the first of the short-sharp hills, and dropped straight into a walk. I’d far rather lose a few seconds to those around me than destroy my legs, particularly this early on. As it was, Caroline behind me had done the same, and I wasn’t losing much time on Josh ahead. Nearing the top, it started to level off, and I trotted back into a run. As the course dropped into a descent however, the tables turned. I followed the inov-8 mantra. Feet first. Head will follow. I passed both the runner who’d overtaken me (who was in a Taunton Deane Aquathlon vest, so in my head was dubbed ‘the triathlete’), and Josh. I expected Josh to come back past me as the route flattened out again, and I wasn’t disappointed. However, rather than him run on beyond me, I was able to use him to push a bit more, and we fell into stride.

In-step with Josh!

When we reached the start of the loop again, we were directed back up for the second loop, and I was buoyed by the call of ‘6th, 7th and 8th’ from the marshal. Although I’d have realised it had I considered, I was shocked to find I was so high in the field. The second lap bore much in common with the first; the triathlete was strong up the hill and went past, while I’d let Josh lead up the hill too, while I concentrated on conserving my energy with a walk up the steep start of the hill. As it levelled off, I kept pace behind Josh, and then he gallantly moved to the side to let me past at the top of the descent. I flung myself down the hill again, though just slightly slower than the first lap apparently! The triathlete, who I’d overtaken on the descent, came back past me on the flat, but I was slightly surprised to see Danny, from Minehead, not too far ahead. He’s far quicker than me on the flat, but on these off-road, hillier courses, I tend to be a bit closer to him.

Although I’d thought that Josh might come back at me on the flat, positions were more or less set from here, and in the end, my finish was pretty lonely, for a time of 43:50.

Post-race

The race was really well organised, and that didn’t finish at the end of the race. Thurlbear School PTA had provided an amazing array on the cake stand, and a barbecue too. The presentation was delayed somewhat, but I think this was a tactical ploy to give people more time to buy food! Unlike many races, where lots of people disappear quite soon after the race, it seemed like everyone was hanging around, so I’m guessing the PTA did pretty well out of it.

Loot!

Considering the race only cost £10 as an EA registered runner, the haul was pretty impressive: a plastic drinks bottle, a buff, a medal… and a bottle of cider! It’s no wonder this race always sells out – definitely one for my calendar again next year.

Butleigh MT 10k: race report

by Ben

It was the second year in a row running the Butleigh MT 10k for me. Last year’s race summary ended up in my catch-up post in July.

My focus over the past few weeks has very much been looking towards Snowdonia in July. The nature of my training plan means that at the moment I have been adding on distance, rather than looking at any serious speed stuff. While this is absolutely the right approach (I’ll discuss this more in my weekly summary) it does have a slight detrimental affect on my racing at the moment. (If you’ve read enough of these, you’ll know that I like to get my excuses in early.)

As is the case with a lot of the Somerset Series races, Butleigh has a relatively small field, and I wasn’t worried about it selling out, so left it until the day to enter. Even on the day, it was a very reasonable £12. A few of the Somerset Series regulars were missing, possibly because of the Yeovil Half Marathon, which clashed with the race. It was though nice to see Matt Powell, my old sparring partner, back racing again. Well, it was at first.

A gorgeous backdrop that I was entirely unaware of.

We headed over to the start, which was the same as last year, a zig-zag through a field and then out over a bridge. I was chatting to Matt for a little bit as we went around the field – mostly commenting that as his pockets were jangling with some change that he’d forgotten to leave behind, I’d avoid running with him. As it turned out, I didn’t have much of a choice.

Climbing up the first, small hill, Matt passed me and soon opened up something in the region of a 20-metre gap pretty quickly. I dug in to hold it at that as we came onto the first road stretch, just over half a mile, before we turned into the field that had been so horrendous last year. The conditions were definitely better this year, though it was still tough going. Once across the field, we turned into a copse that ran alongside the road. The terrain through this section was fun and technical, though I hadn’t remembered quite what a climb it still was!

When we dropped down the next field, I had hoped to make some headway on those ahead of me on the descent, but no such luck. Or rather, no sudden discovery of previously untapped pace. Back on the road for a short stretch, and then we turned right to head through Butleigh Wood. Or, more properly, the third hill, which feels like it goes on, and on, and on. I made headway up the hill – passing one of the two red-topped runners ahead of me. The pair had been my targets for a while, and I was relatively confident of passing them both before the end.

Climbing through Butleigh Wood.

Coming down the other side, my downhill speed finally seemed to reap some benefit, and I closed right up to the next redshirt.  I remained right on his heels as we dodged the badger holes on the narrow path. I was just behind him through the last bit of field, before we headed back onto the road. Unfortunately, he then started to push away from me again. Or I dropped away from him, I’m not entirely sure which.

So close, and yet so far… After closing in, the redshirt opened the gap back up again at the end.

The bad news (or my bad finish) continued. The second redshirt put on a pretty impressive finish, and passed me just before we entered the playing fields at the finish. Another runner, from Wells City Harriers, also caught up to me during the lap of the football pitch. This time though, I was able to put on a sprint of my own. I had hoped that an initial push would see him off, but he kept coming, so I had to kick again all the way to the line.

Fast finishes aren’t pretty.

I finished in 48:36; thirty-five seconds slower than last year. Most of that was lost in mile two, though I benefited from not getting caught at the road crossing this year. As ever, comparisons aren’t worth too much – the conditions were better than last year, but my training has been anything but. Onward and upward.

Next race(s): Isle of Man Easter Festival of Running 10k (Good Friday) and Peel Hill Race (Holy Saturday)

Babcary 7.5: race report

by Ben

The second part of my weekend back-to-back, after completing leg one of the Hills to Coast Relay with Minehead RC the day before. This was also my second visit to the Babcary 7.5 mile road race, which I also ran last year.

This race, like all of those in the Somerset Series, was pencilled into my diary as soon as I knew the date. It’s a bit of an oddity of a race – 7.5 miles is hardly a normal race distance, and the profile of this course means that it isn’t particularly quick either. But that is part of the joy of this race – it’s challenging no matter what.

No matter where they take us, We’ll find our own way back. (Well, actually we’ll follow the hi-vis arrows and marshals…)

My legs – nay, my whole body – was feeling pretty rundown after the relay on Saturday. Apparently 1,000 ft over 10 km in just under 54 minutes isn’t brushed off too easily. That said, I wanted to run 10 miles on Sunday in terms of progression for The Big Cheese race in a few weeks, and also in preparation for my upcoming marathon training for the Snowdonia Trail Marathon. Bizarrely, running a 7.5 mile race, and topping the mileage up with a warm-up and cool down seemed a preferential option to 10 easy miles on my own.

Generally, my preparation for this race was awful. Not just the fact I’d raced the day before, but also the fact that at 9:15 I still hadn’t really started packing. The race was about 35 minutes away, and on-the-day entries officially closed at 10:30. I also had no fuel in my car and no cash to actually pay for entry….

After some rather rushed packing, I was off. Via a cash machine and a petrol station. About halfway there, I was getting confused; my sat nav was trying to send me an odd route, and I was getting concerned that maybe a road was closed ahead. I pulled over, and realised that I’d written down the wrong postcode. A quick search on Strava for last year’s activity, and I simply put the street name into the sat nav, et voilà!

So, about that rushed packing. When I arrived, I found I was missing my running socks. And my Garmin. Thankfully, I was wearing socks, so I just had to give my Fozzy Bear socks their running debut. The Garmin situation was also averted, as I had my FlipBelt with me, so was able to pop my phone into that with Strava tracking the run. Because after all…

The Race

My race strategy was much as at the relay the day before, and at this event last year. It was nothing special: ‘take it easy early, get a feel for your capabilities, see what you can do later’. Largely, I think I managed to stick to the plan. I held back on the initial climb, and then allowed a few runners that I’d normally run with slip away ahead of me. I was a little concerned that Graham, my usual Somerset Series sparring partner was still near me, but the positions of everyone else told me I was about right.

The whole race undulates – although none of the climbs are particularly tough, it is non-stop. Uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill, uphill… you get the idea. My first two miles were significantly down in pace compared to last year, dropping about a minute between the two. Shortly after this, on the climb that started at around 2.5 miles, my legs started to feel pretty wiped. I’d dropped back from Graham and another Wells City Harrier, while a third was now running with me, having caught me around the two mile marker.

As I spent the next half mile climbing that particular hill, I was starting to seriously doubt the wisdom of racing two days in a row after a six month absence. While I was never in danger of dropping out of the race, I did worry that I might embarrass myself by falling like a rock through the field. However, as hard as it felt, I found that I wasn’t really dropping back from the group in front, nor were those behind closing the gap. I settled in, and remembered that racing never feels easy. It’s kind of the point.

I lost another couple of minutes compared to last year over the undulations of the middle few miles. As we ran through one village, I had a little faux race with one of the spectators, who looked to be coming out of her garden to stand with some friends. It was a nice little mental break from the race, though it only lasted a few metres! Otherwise, there was little to mark these middle miles – I went up some hills, down some hills, passed some barns. You get the idea.

Interestingly, my pace over miles six and seven was actually very close to last year; 7:20 and 7:08 this year, compared with 7:12 and 7:08 last. Finally it seems that my efforts to take it easy early in a race actually came to some fruition. The final half mile is the reverse of the start, and drops back down hill. With no one forty yards either side of me, I didn’t push too hard, but kept a decent pace that removed any real possibility of me being overtaken. Last year, I had a sprint finish with Graham which saw me peak at about 4:45/mile. This year, after easing my pace up to 5:50/mile down the hill, I slowed back down to cross the finish line. Twentieth overall, and eighteenth male, is a solid finish for me in terms of the Somerset Series; in each of the last two years I’ve averaged around 21 to 22 per race.

After a mile and a half cool down (mileage top-up) I was done. My two-race weekend was concluded. I grabbed some lunch from Burger King just down the road, and headed back. This morning (Monday) I had some serious DOMS. But now, this evening, it seems okay. And I seem to have planned a 2,000 ft run for tomorrow…

Hills to Coast Relay: “race” report

by Ben

After not racing since last August, for some reason I decided that it would be a good idea to return with a weekend back-to-back. On Saturday I took in Minehead Running Club’s “Hills to Coast” Relay, an internal club event that I was kindly invited to take part in. The following day was my first Somerset Series race of the year, the Babcary 7.5 mile road race, but more on that in a later blog post.

MRC “Hills to Coast Relay”

Each year, Minehead Running Club arrange a club relay, and this year I was lucky enough to be invited to take part. The event comprises four legs, and the course isn’t marked – the onus is on the runners to learn the course themselves in preparation for the day. A couple of months ago, I found out that I was running leg 1, and had been sent the route.

I plotted the route onto my OS Maps app, and headed out in early January. Lolly dropped me off near the start, and then headed off to the end with the children for a splash around in the woods. Meanwhile, I studiously followed the red line on my phone to navigate across to meet them. My daughter was a bit confused when I turned up, asking how I’d got there without a car! About a month later, I headed out again with a few other runners to try the course again. I was pretty happy with most of the route, but I remained a bit uncertain about the start. Hence, Tuesday this week, I nipped out again to get it firmly sorted in my mind (and maybe have a CR attempt at the downhill segment on Strava…)

Stunning views

Roll on Saturday morning – I dumped my car at the finish, and got a lift to the start with Josh. Running Yeovil Montacute parkrun last weekend had given me a bit of a wake-up call; I’d shot off too quick and suffered later. So my plan was firmly to take it easy early on, and then reap the benefits later. It’s important that I make it clear that this was my plan.

The first mile essentially weaves its way through Williton, and is basically flat tarmac throughout, crossing the West Somerset Railway on its way out of the village. After that, the course moves off-road, and starts to climb (this is something of a trend – the leg started at 93 ft and finished at 421 ft, so there was always going to be plenty of climbing involved.) The next mile and a half are more or less a constant gentle climb up to the base of the Quantocks. Throughout this section, which alternates on- and off-road, I maintained a grade-adjusted pace of roughly 7:00 min/mile, and was holding quite nicely in fourth/fifth.

Up, and up, and up…

Then came the “Unnamed Combe”, as the Strava segment dubs it. And off came the wheels of my race. A long drag of a hill, this starts up a boggy field, continues up a footpath which is basically actually a stream, and then turns into what might as well be a brick wall (albeit a gorgeous one, pictured). It involves 569 ft of climbing in one mile, and my pace dropped right down to 13:32 min/mile – even grade-adjusted it was 8:16. Given that the Snowdonia Trail Marathon, which I’m running in July, includes four successive miles that clock in with 769, 601, 385 and 953 ft of elevation respectively, I think I might need to work on this…

I dropped back from fourth on the climb, and then a navigational error meant that the runner behind me caught up. With seemingly better legs, he pressed on ahead of me on the gentle climb on towards Bicknoller Post and Longstone Hill. I managed the gap, but could do little to dent it until we dropped downhill. I flew down the last mile, which was entirely downhill on tricky loose stone, to reclaim fifth place, and finish in just under 54 minutes.

This was a great little event, well managed by the club. If anything, I probably enjoyed the exploration beforehand more than the relay itself, though both were enjoyable. The downhill terrain played to my strengths at the end, but I’d already lost too much up the hill for it to make much difference. Minehead make a day of the event, following the relay with an evening social, but I skipped that part as we had family staying. I’m hoping to get out running with Minehead more this summer during their ‘Strate Liners’ to explore more of Exmoor and the Quantocks.

parkrun tourism: Yeovil Montacute parkrun – B course

by Ben

As “parkrun tourism” goes, this is a bit different to usual. I actually first visited Yeovil Montacute parkrun back in October 2014, which you can read about here. I returned again in October 2016, when they reversed the course to celebrate the clocks going back an hour. (Or something like that). I meant to visit again last winter, when they moved to their B course, but I didn’t make it. I thought I’d missed my opportunity again this year, but then an opening sprung up, and off to Ham Hill we ventured…

Yeovil Montacute parkrun has suffered over the winter. They have managed just two runs in November, three in December, and only one in January. The “A” course winds it way around the grounds of Montacute House, a lovely National Trust property near Yeovil. Being a completely grass course, it can get waterlogged and chewed up through the winter, and so the parkrun moves to the nearby Ham Hill Country Park for January and February.

Ham Hill itself isn’t immune from waterlogging – a similar grassy terrain, the course can get pretty muddy, and on the morning there was a warning of mud on the event Facebook page. But who doesn’t like a bit of mud?

Walk to the start.

We arrived in plenty of time, and had no problem finding somewhere to park. The toilets were conveniently located on the walk to the start, which was signed from the car park. The path to the start was quite muddy in places, but once we got out onto the fields near the start, it firmed up a bit. Normally, I like to do a warm-up before parkrun, but we’d timed things such that there wasn’t really enough time. We either arrived too late for the new runners briefing, or there simply wasn’t one; I’m not sure which. Still, the main briefing was more than sufficient, and frankly, I know the main parkrun guidelines, and I’m not quick enough to have to worry about the route – I can just follow whoever is in front of me!

With little fanfare, we were sent on our way – and I made my first mistake of the morning. A wide start meant that I was in the second row, and I stupidly stayed on the shoulders of the front-runners. After a few hundred metres, I glanced at my watch and assumed it wasn’t tracking me properly, or maybe I had left my pace in kilometres – it was reading 5:50 – FAR too fast.

After about half a kilometre, I had managed to pull my pace back, letting what felt like half the field stream past me. Despite this, I recorded a 4:10 opening kilometre, which given the terrain, a slight incline, and my current fitness level, was still too fast. The second kilometre finished off the climb before dropping back down the other side, and I was still letting people past as I ran a more reasonable 4:27.

Despite the warnings, the course was firm underfoot throughout, and actually really nice to run on. The third kilometre finished off the lap, and as you dropped back down hill slightly, you had good visibility of the route ahead. By this point, I’d fallen to the right part of the field for my pace, and a 4:20 kilometre was about right. Climbing back up the hill for the entire fourth kilometre, I passed a runner – the only change of position I had for the entire second lap!

I glanced at my watch a short while later and was slightly confused by the distance it was showing – it didn’t quite add up to me. As I got closer and closer to the finish, it became more and more clear that the course was over-distance. Not uncommon for “B” courses, as if it was quicker than the “A” course, then you might set a PB that you couldn’t beat on the main course. That said, it soon became clear that this wasn’t a slight extension; in the end the course measured in on my Garmin as 5.5 km!

I’d intentionally “raced” this parkrun – due to my ankle injury, I haven’t raced since the start of August last year, and with a few coming up, I wanted some practice. The fast start was a reminder that it is easy to get carried away early on, and will definitely be something I keep in mind over the next few weeks. After that I was relatively happy with my “race craft”. I didn’t have much to do, and maybe I let myself get more isolated that was ideal, but generally after the quick start I kept a pretty even pace (considering the profile) and was able to push myself throughout. On a proper length course, I’d have got about 22:07, which isn’t unreasonable for that route with my current fitness, though it does show that I have a way to go yet before I have a shot at setting any new PBs.

I’d really recommend this course – while I love the main course at Montacute house, this is certainly no disappoint in comparison. The terrain and undulations are pretty similar between the two, giving the same feel. It clearly isn’t a course you’re likely to PB on, given the length, but given that it is a trail course anyway, that really doesn’t matter.

All done!

Lolly had a fabulous run, getting her fastest paced parkrun since child number two arrived, despite the course being harder than some of those we’ve run recently. We’re planning some flatter “road” courses over the next few weeks, so it’ll be exciting to see what she’s capable of! For me, I’m contemplating a slightly mad return to racing with a weekend double – the Minehead Running Club “Hills to Coast Relay” on the Saturday, followed by the Babcary 7.5 mile road race on Sunday (see last year’s blog post.)

A race report catch-up: part one

by Ben

So, it would be fair to say that I’ve got out of the habit of updating the blog with my race reports. Well, to be honest, I’ve just stopped writing pretty much anything on it. Which is annoying, as reading my blog reports from previous years is one of my most effective pre-race preparations. This year I’ve raced 11 times, and yet I’ve only put up 4 race reports. Now two of those were Yeovilton 5k races, which I don’t tend to write up properly, but that still leaves five whole races unrecorded.

With this in mind, I’m going to try and summarise my thoughts on each, going back over some short notes I made at the time and the Strava report.

Butleigh MT 10k – 19 March

This was another “new to me” Somerset Series race for 2017. It used to be 7 miles, but this year they dropped it down to 10k. Unfortunately, to make it this distance, the race had to loop some fields at the start and end of the course, which wasn’t great – I’m not convinced that it is important enough to make a race 10k that this looping was needed. But whatever.

I probably, definitely started the race too fast on the initial lap of the field, but wanted to make sure I was in a decent position to avoid having to wait to cross the stile out of the field, which became something of a bottleneck for those behind. We then entered another field (there were lots of the them) which was extremely boggy. Everyone was taking different lines, trying to find some firm ground, but there simply wasn’t any. I ended up tight against the fence on the right-hand side, which I’d initially worried was electric, but it turned out not to be!

At the end of this field, the course rose up towards the road, though we didn’t actually run on the road, but through the trees alongside it. This was apparently the local fly-tipping area too, which a range of furniture and tyres on offer. It wasn’t great terrain to run on, but thankfully I was following another runner, so was able to keep track of the track, so to speak. We dropped back downhill into the fields after this section, and were helpfully warned by the marshal “Careful as you go, very slippy.”

Pack running

He was right – I slipped over. Thankfully it was all just mud, so no harm done, and I barely even lost any time on those I could see ahead of me. I picked up the pace a bit down the hill, but a little more cautiously than normal after my fall. After a short stint back on the road, we turned off it again and up hill. I was passed by another Series regular, Graham, (no surprise there) as we climbed up, but I went back past him once we headed downhill again. For most of the last two miles, four of us ran close together, our positions switching around a few times.

Graham’s course knowledge helped a couple of times, but I was leading the group coming into the last mile. Until the bloody “main” road crossing, when I got held up by a car passing, and the group caught back up to me again!

After a few more twists and turns (and the bloody pointless lap of the field) I finished in a reasonable (given the course and conditions) 48:01. More importantly, I was around, or ahead of, those I considered competitors in the Series.

Yeovilton 5k – 10 May

After Butleigh, I had a couple more weeks of good running before illness (a sinus infection) and the arrival of my new son stymied my running for a while. I skipped the April edition of the Yeovilton 5k Series, and returned in May. My hope was for a time around 20:15. Last year I peaked at 19:13 in September, but I was obviously going to be well short of that. Rightly or wrongly (the latter) I headed out at sub-20 minute pace, ticking off 3:56 and 3:58 for the first two kilometres. Then the wheels fell off; 4:12 for the third kilometre followed by 4:25 and 4:22. My body had just given up on me, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. I finished in 20:48, more or less equivalent to my time at this race in May last year, when I ran 20:44. So, if nothing else, I knew I was in roughly the same place, and so could improve back to the same place as last year.

Wambrook Waddle 10k – 14 May

Lani probably had as much fun as I did at this one!

This race came on the Sunday following the Yeovilton race, and so I was feeling a mixture of disheartened by the 5k result, and confident that hopefully if I had more or less matched my 2016 5k performance, I could more or less match my 2016 Waddle performance. Which I guess I more or less did. I opted to follow the Nigel Baker Race Start TacticTM, which I admit probably isn’t the best long-term plan. It essentially involves doing a race with a downhill start, and then absolutely pegging it down the hill. It was great fun. It probably killed my legs. Unsurprisingly, I lost a lot of places on the subsequent uphill, though I had plenty of fun dropping back down it again after.

In essence, this race was categorised by me not really being mentally prepared for racing in the Somerset Series “lower down the pack”. I saw those that I had previously raced around, but they were way ahead of me, and it was difficult to deal with. I probably had a reasonable race considering my fitness levels, but it just felt like a bit of a fail. But if there is anywhere to do that, it’s the Wambrook Waddle, which remains a gem of a course – impossibly hard for a race that is only 10 kilometres long (though in fact, most of the work is done in the first 5k, it’s just that your legs are completely shot for the second half.) Again, my race time was more or less equivalent to what I ran in 2016 (about 20 seconds slower.)

Wells 10k – 28 May

I did actually do a full write-up on this race, which you can find here: Wells 10k: race report. In summary; felt tough, but managed to equal last year’s time.

Crewkerne 10k – 4 June

This was the final of the more or less back-to-back-to-back Somerset Series races, which featured three 10k events in four weeks. This was a return to a race that I last did in 2015, when I found it really, really tough. The race starts with a steep hill climb, then drops down just as steeply, and then undulates until it loops back around to do that hill in reverse once again. When I did this race in 2015, I’d done about 1,800 ft of elevation so far that year. This time, I’d done 17,300 ft. It’s fair to say that I’m a bit better prepared for hills these days. In fact, the whole race only has about 500 ft of climbing, which isn’t unusual for Somerset Series races.

My time of 44:03 was almost identical to my Wells time of 44:02 the week before, and gave me a lot more confidence. For whatever reason, I just felt strong on the hills, and quick on the descents. Sure, I was still a distance back from the pack of runners I felt I should be with – I could see them for most of the first half of the race before they got too far ahead of me. But I’d come to terms with that now, and knew that I was running for myself, and working my way back to where I had been. Even if I wasn’t there yet.

Right, that’s enough for the moment. I’ll follow this up with part two later on; another go at the Red Bull Steeplechase, the Quantock Beast and my second Yeovilton 5k of the year.