Tag Archives: Somerset Series

Lolly’s Summer Summary

by Lolly

It’s fair to say that the summer holidays sent me a little off track this year. It was our first year of experiencing a school summer holiday, and the break in routine was tougher than expected. One of many things I dropped in an attempt to balance was blogging, and so I thought I would return with a little summary of my summer’s running. Unfortunately, I also seem to have dropped running, and so this is literally every run I did in those 6 and a bit weeks.

20th July – Longrun Meadow parkrun
We’d taken the decision not to tour over the summer – Ben spends enough time in holiday traffic at work without doing it for fun. So I kept it local at Longrun Meadow, taking the buggy round in a satisfactory 32:05

26th July – 4 mile run
The first week of the holidays, I took the kids to stay with my parents on the Isle of Man. We packed a lot in, but I struggled to find time and energy to run. The final morning was all or nothing, and so I had to choose between running somewhere new and doing my standard 4 mile loop. I kept it with what I know, and didn’t regret it one bit.

Crazy hair? Check. Broken contact lenses? Check. Amazing sea views? Check.

27th July – Longrun Meadow parkrun
I tried my hand at the First Timers briefing, which I’ve wanted to do for ages. Typically I picked a week with a course diversion. I then headed over for my run. At the start I bumped into Chris, who had been in my Beginners Group at RFRC this Spring. I kept him talking enough to slow him down for the first mile, then we kept things going til the end. He smashed his PB with a very respectable 28:11, and I had found a purpose to keep positive while running.

3rd August – Burnham & Highbridge parkrun
While I was struggling with being ‘trapped’ at home, my primary reason for heading away was that I was feeling rubbish and antisocial, and there was a takeover at Longrun Meadow (they got record turnout that day). So I took KK and the buggy over to Burnham. We got the last space in the car park (yay), got set up, and headed off for what I swore would be a gentle trot. Somewhere during one of the overtakes I remembered I am incapable of taking it easy at Burnham, and I finished in 29:11, a new buggy PB.

4th August – junior parkrun
11th August – junior parkrun
Consecutive runs at junior means one thing – I missed parkrun on 10th August.

17th August – Longrun Meadow parkrun
Starting to feel the pressure of an upcoming race, I pushed myself hard at parkrun. I felt pretty close to the limit the whole time, but the lack of running was really showing. I finished in 26:59, which was insanely good given my state of training, but absolutely gutting at the time when I knew I’d pushed so hard to get there.

18th August – junior parkrun + 1 mile buggy run
In a desperate attempt to get even the smallest run in, I ran a mile back from junior parkrun. With buggy, naturally.

24th August – Longrun Meadow parkrun
This was a bit of a weird run for me. The day before a race is often a time to go slow, but I’d already screwed up any chance of properly racing so just took it at what felt right. Mostly I spent the whole 29 minutes and 27 seconds thinking about how damn hot it was. And the fact that my race the next day would be starting an hour later.

Running Forever RC runner in Tikiboo zig zag leggings — As a coach, I have so much to say about this race photo…

25th August – Battle of Sedgemoor 10k
Ben’s done this race before, and wrote it up here. With my lack of training, I was purely running this for the Somerset Series, and gave myself the target of finishing in an hour. Since Ben ran it, the start has moved location, which means the race starts with a downhill, followed immediately by a long uphill. It was insanely hot, and the start was pretty crowded. There were a few too many cars close to runners on the course for my liking. I got to the 5k marker in around 28:30, and remember thinking how grateful I was to parkrun for knowing full well that I can run 5k in 31:30 when completely exhausted. And sure enough, I finished in 57:33.

31st August – Longrun Meadow parkrun
Rounding off the summer, I ran parkrun with both kids (one in the buggy, naturally). Lani struggled with her energy levels after a busy summer, and also with the fact she hadn’t been doing as much running recently. But we made it round in 50:58. It was also a great opportunity for Lani to showcase her brand new 10 top, which got her a lot of welcome attention.

Naturally I look a mess and she looks like a model.

So there you have it. Clearly my big success of the summer was to just keep turning up to parkrun. I’ve come to realise that if that’s the only run I do each week then at least I’m doing that. Obviously, I’d like to get my act together and start training properly, but I need to keep the balance so I appreciate the little bits.

But seriously, can we tour again now?

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.

Town Tree Trail: race report

by Ben

May and June are pretty relentless as far as Somerset Series races are concerned. The Wambrook Waddle and Town Tree Trail were back-to-back this year; Sunday/Wednesday. After a tough hilly race on Sunday, there were quite a few tired legs out there on Wednesday evening: mine included!

This was an interesting race for me; it was the first time since my switch to Minehead that I was taking part in a race with a significant presence from Running Forever. There were a few comments, in jest (I think!), about tripping me up, but I emerged unscathed!

While writing my report for the Wambrook Waddle, I was musing about my pacing tactics; specifically, I came to the conclusion that “at the moment I feel my best tactic is to push hard early and then try to hold on.” I noticed that at the Town Tree Trail last year, although I’d averaged 7:06 per mile, my first mile had been a 6:26. I thought about it some more, and decided that on a flat course, maybe it would be worth trying for a better pacing strategy. Maybe take things a bit easier early on, and have a more even pacing.

A few laps of the field with Matt and Will sufficed for a warm-up, before we then ambled around waiting for the start, which ended up being late. There was more or less a full course description in the pre-race briefing, during which I must admit I completely switched off.

The race

Starting on the front row probably wasn’t the best idea for a controlled start. I had Ali and Sam, both club-mates at Running Forever, just over my left shoulder; both were likely to be quicker than me. As we set off, I consciously avoided going with the leading pack, which Danny and Matt were both part of. Three-quarters of the way around the field though, I realised that Will was still behind me. Bugger; he’s quicker than me too. As we left the field, I glanced at my watch; 6:03 pace. Double bugger.

As we hared along the short stretch of road (and let’s be honest, given the silly pace, it definitely was ‘hared’), Ali and Sam eased past me, shortly followed by Will. Right – the pace might still be a tad too quick; I clocked about a 3:50 first kilometre, which is quicker than my average during my quickest-ever 5k, but at least I’d shuffled down to roughly the right spot.

Leaving the fields, we entered a stretch of fields. In contrast to the lonely race I had at the Wambrook Waddle, I was rarely without another runner during this race. Through this first field section, I had Sam about ten metres ahead, and Nick Brooke closing in behind me. My pace had dropped to something more sensible, and I was happy to tag on behind Nick when he passed me.

During the middle section of the race, it twists and turns around the Town Tree Nature Garden, which is a lovely landscaped garden open to the public year round. As a runner, it’s a pretty unique place to run, featuring a narrow paths around tight corners, including more than one complete 180 degree hairpin. We went over a small bridge which we later ducked under; there was a little waterfall feature we ran under, and countless arches made out of old horseshoes. Through all of this, I remained a couple of paces behind Nick, and now about the same ahead of another Series regular, Andrew Piper.

I was starting to have some concerns about the race distance; we had gone past the two mile marker a little while before entering the garden, and yet my watch bleeped for four miles while we still had a fair bit of the garden left to do. As far as I was aware, we would be following the same route back from the garden, which added up to more than 6.22 miles by my reckoning. I made a mental note to possibly expect a “long 10k”.

When we came back out of the garden, I was feeling pretty comfortable, and soon realised that this was due to the pace having dropped quite significantly. Feeling that I could push on, I opted to move past Nick, figuring that if nothing else, we could work together to keep a decent pace for the last couple of miles. Ahead, Sam had moved out of sight, but another runner was in view, and I felt that I might have a decent chance of catching him. For the next three-quarters of a mile, I was slowly reeling in the runners ahead. One, who was struggling, was passed quickly, while both a runner from (probably) Yeovil and Sam were getting closer.

And then, disaster. A stitch. I haven’t had a bad stitch while running for years, and this was quite an awkward time. Looking back, I was probably running more or less at my limit, and this was just a sign that maybe I’d pushed a little too hard. Or maybe it was something completely different, who knows. I had to drop off my pace a little; I could only take relatively shallow breaths, and although my legs were still miraculously strong, I just couldn’t push. When we got back to the road, with around a kilometre to go, Nick and Andrew cruised past me.

A smile hides the pain and frustration of my finish.

Having eased off my pace for a while, the pain lessened a bit, and I hoped that I could push on to get them back at the finish. I thought I was more or less maintaining the gap as we ran around the final recreation field that we’d started in, but when I looked at it honestly, I was slipping back. My focus switched to the runner closing in behind me, and I concentrated on running hard enough to keep my position, which I managed.

Post-race

I haven’t seen any results yet, but I’m guessing that I placed somewhere in the 20s, which isn’t awful for the Series. We’d been quietly hoping before the race that we might have a good chance at the men’s team prize, as I was likely to be the last of our four finishers. Unfortunately, for both our hopes of the team prize and himself, Danny busted his ankle in one of the fields and had to drop out just short of two miles in. Dammit Danny!

After grabbing a cold shower, I headed with Matt and Will for some food (a sausage roll (thanks Will!) and a donut). While we were eating, the race director came over as asked for our race numbers and approximate finish times as apparently some runners had been missed, and they were trying to work out where the gaps were. This delayed the presentation ceremony a bit!

It was a successful race for both my clubs; Matt got a trophy for being third overall, and Verity was third lady. Meanwhile for Running Forever, Sam was first female, while Ali took home the prize for first veteran male 50+. For me, no trophy, but a surprisingly quick run. Considering that last year I was running pretty well in May, I actually ran a quicker pace this year (though the added distance meant a slower overall time.) Along with a decent Wambrook Waddle race, I can hopefully build on these for the summer races, and maybe an autumn PB attempt at either 5k or 10k. Or both?

Did I enjoy this race? Actually, yes. I didn’t have particularly good memories of it from 2018; not that it had been bad, just that I’d felt it was a bit bland. But, yeah, I enjoyed it.
Would I do this race again? It’s in the Somerset Series, so yes, I expect so.
What’s next? Lolly will be running the Wells 10k on 26 May, then I think I’m doing the Crewkerne 10k on 2 June.

Wambrook Waddle: race report

by Ben

This is the third time I’ve run the Wambrook Waddle; I previously took part in 2017 and 2016, while Lolly ran it in 2015. Last year, it took place, but wasn’t part of the Somerset Series, so I gave it a miss.

Running hasn’t really come together for me this year. Am I running badly? No, not really. But am I running well? No, not really. I really, really, really want to break 40 minutes at 10k this year, but without a sustained period of decent training, it’s not going to happen. But anyway, that’s not what this post should be about. Suffice to say, that more or less as always, I’d have liked to be more prepared for this race.

This was the second race for my new club, and it sort of underlined part of the reason behind my switch; I was one of four from Minehead, while there was no one else from my old club there. Well, technically, Lolly was there, but she wasn’t running, just spectating! (Mostly stopping the kids from killing themselves, actually.) After a little pre-race potter about, we headed out for a warm-up, which included the field we would climb up at the end of the race. During this (in which I actually ran quicker up the hill than I would in the race) we discovered that the car park hadn’t been marshalled very well (at all), meaning that there were cars parked across the race route! Thankfully, the gaps were big enough to get through easily, but it was one to bear in mind for later…

More faffing about ensued for the next ten minutes before the race start: mostly I dumped my sweaty warm-up top on Lolly (I’m sure she appreciated it), and switched to my race vest. The pre-race briefing sensibly suggested not tripping over anything, and kindly reminded us that this was quite a hilly race. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much of a surprise for anyone!

… and GO!

I love the start to this race. A 600 metre dash downhill to a stream crossing. I started what felt like relatively conservatively, but ended up second behind only Matt. Not so conservative after all. I actually felt like I could have pressed a little bit quicker than Matt was going while remaining comfortable, but I opted not to be a complete prat, and stuck in behind him. I took a slightly different line to Matt through the stream… and it turned out to be completely the wrong one. I sunk down a lot more than I expected (and a lot more than Matt), and nearly fell in. As it was, my vest, head and arms were all soaked from the splash/sinking combination.

Immediately after the stream, the route follows the old adage; ‘what goes down, must come up’. Or whatever. I wasn’t surprised when people came streaming past me as we climbed the long hill (well, it felt like they came streaming past me, in reality I was still in 10th at the top of the hill.) I was completely prepared for this; much as I would love to say that I could pace properly, and be that guy who conserves his energy for the last push, it’s just not how I race. Maybe when I’m closer to peak fitness I will give it a go, but at the moment I feel my best tactic is to push hard early and then try to hold on. I’m aware that this is probably just a really bad idea.

As usual, in warm conditions after a slog up the hill, I was glad for the 1.25-mile drink station. The hill went on for a bit longer before the fiddly twists and turns through the wood at the top. Through this section I heard footsteps come up quite quickly behind me, but before the runner could get passed, the course dropped downhill again, and I was able to stay ahead. I maintained my slim advantage all the way downhill, until we reached about 2.5 miles into the race, and then he inevitably went past. And that, for all intents and purposes, was the end of my actual racing. I was in 11th place, and maintained exactly that position for the rest of the race. The end.

Okay, so it wasn’t quite that simple, as I still had another 3.7 miles to run. The immediate battle was the second climb of the race. I took a brief walk towards in the middle of the hill, but tried to push on as best as I could. Mostly because there were a couple of marshals on the hill, and I felt guilted into it! Another descent took us down to the third river crossing of the race, before easily my least favourite hill.

I don’t really know what’s so bad about it; looking on Strava, it doesn’t look the steepest of the hills, and it’s far from the longest. Maybe it’s partly the underfoot conditions. Probably, it’s just that it’s just barely over halfway through the race. Far enough in that I’m already knackered from the hills already run, but not far enough that I feel like I can push on through because I’m nearly finished. Thankfully, after the short, sharp climb through a field, the second drink station gives a handy excuse for a rest. The course continues to climb after, and I was able to see the runners both ahead and behind me. The gap looked similar each way, and I was a bit concerned that this meant I was slipping back into those behind me. I couldn’t do much about it at that stage though, I was struggling a bit with the hill, though it was a relatively friendly 1:10 or something.

From mile four, the course mostly runs through relatively flat fields until a couple of drops and climbs right at the end. A couple of fields into this stretch, not long after my watch beeped for four miles, I realised that I’d sunk into something of a plod. I made a conscious effort to drive my arms and generally ‘get a wriggle on’, otherwise I was definitely going to fall into the clutches of those behind me. (I could see a group of three; my club-mate Verity and two men.) Having sped up, I slowly built up the gap on that gap, and hoped that would dissuade any of them from making too much of an effort to catch me. Conversely, I briefly saw the group of three ahead of me; all three were Minster Milers runners. It looked like Ed had caught the two ahead of him, and I was hopeful that it meant they were struggling. As it turns out, they either sped back up, or it was something of an illusion, as they both finished around a minute ahead of him.

Although it had given me a brief impetus to speed up, it soon became apparent that I wasn’t going to catch anyone, and I settled back into a steadier pace, aware that I had another race coming up on Wednesday. In fact, I ended up running the last hill (though the car park field) slower than I’d done it during our warm-up.

A half-hearted attempt at a sprint-finish.

I had a lonely second half of the race; I finished in 11th, over 90 seconds behind Ed and 50 seconds ahead of the next runner. For the Somerset Series I was chuffed with an 11th place, and it was also a course PB by about 45 seconds, so I can’t really complain.

Did I enjoy this race? Yes. It’s really tough, because the hills kill you in the first half of the race, but this is the sort of race I love.
Would I do this race again? Again, yes. This is the third year I’ve run the race, and I’d love to do it again.
What’s next? The ‘Town Tree Trail 10k’ on Wednesday 15 May. I ran this last year, but didn’t blog about it. It’s off-road, but almost pancake flat, with some lovely twists and turns around the Town Tree Nature Garden.

Round the Tor 10k: 2019 race report

by Lolly

This year Ben and I have decided that we both want to do the Somerset Series (ie 8 qualifying races), which means that at least one of us has to do pretty much every race (factoring in the ones we can’t do). I did the Babcary MT race back in February (and failed to blog about it), and my next outing was scheduled as what is officially known as the Round the Tor 10k. Or Glastonbury 10k as pretty much everyone calls it.

I ran this race back in 2015 and really enjoyed it, helped by the fact that it was the first time I went under an hour for 10k. This year I wasn’t too sure how it would go. A recent parkrun PB indicated that my form was good, but my training was inconsistent to non-existent. Anytime I was asked what I was aiming for, I said it was a benchmark run. Which it should have been. Except, of course, when you’ve set a massive landmark PB at a course once, you kind of want to do it again.

In the morning we set off early, so that we could go to Cheddar junior parkrun on the way. It was a lovely little event, and worked perfectly in terms of timing. I also got a little bit of sprinting practice in when little man decided to run away from my marshal point. After the event finished, we took the short drive to Glastonbury and headed to the designated race parking, where we were able to park easily.

The atmosphere before the race is a bit crazy, with all the other distance events going on at the same time. My prep took the form of: collect number, get Ben to put number on vest, get Ben to re-position number, go to toilet (no queue!), take Lani to toilet (big queue!), panic visit shop to buy pre-race snack. Seamless. I headed over to the start area with 10 minutes to go, and managed a little warm up before chatting with club mates. I was asked again what time I was aiming for. I replied that if it went well then hopefully about 55 minutes, but there was also a good chance of me collapsing at around 5 miles.

The race brief was clear and detailed, talking about potholes we should expect for approximately half the course. Amusingly they couldn’t find the starting hooter, so it was a very muted start. But as it’s a chip to chip race this wasn’t much of a problem. The first task was always going to be getting into the right position – I had no idea where in the line up I needed to be, and the mass of Millfield students always adds the extra random factor.

My entire race plan was pretty simple: Aim to do the first mile in 9 minutes and go from there. I felt pretty strong heading down past the town hall (who wouldn’t on a downhill start), and was excited heading up the high street knowing my family was at the top ready to cheer me. Lani put her hand out to give me a high five, and as a result ended up giving them to several other runners as well.

Heading along the main road I felt pretty good, and tried to settle into some form of rhythm. My watch beeped for one mile sooner than I expected – in fact 20 seconds earlier than my target. This gave me a bit of confidence to push on, although I was wary that my short training runs could lead me to burn out too soon. We reached the next milestone I was looking for – the out and back section down a side road.

Glad to have that ticked off, the next target was moving from the main road to the back roads. Which coincidentally happens just before the end of mile 2. I always keep my watch in mile laps, whatever I’m running, and in a 10k it’s great because it means you get km signs and mile beeps and so there’s always another marker. The promised potholes and rugged edges were clear to see, as were the undulations I remembered this course for. But I managed to keep going at a reasonably even pace.

The water station was at the top of a hill, shortly before 5k. As my fingers touched the water cup, the girl handing it to me let go. So I got one leg absolutely drenched, and a tiny sip of water. This worried me slightly, but I knew there was another water station later if I was struggling.

And so we reached the 5k line, and for the first time I checked my watch against the course marking (because, easy calculation). It hadn’t even got to 27 minutes yet. That calculation was pretty easy then. If I managed to maintain a watch pace of around 8:30 then I would be well under 55 minutes.

I felt pretty good, and so despite the lack of training I was pretty confident I could do it. Until somewhere in mile 4, when I remembered the horrible heartbreak hill that would be greeting us near the end. Which somehow had been removed from all my memories of the course. Now I see why Ben reads his old race reports before he heads out!

Still, the second water station treated me much better (decent sip and splash over face), helped as well by the cheers surrounding it. On the nice gradual downhill that follows I was clearly feeling more tired, but not so much that I wavered from my 8:30ish average. As the surroundings changed to houses I mentally prepared myself for what was to come.

The hill did not disappoint, with most people round me slowing to a walk. I was pretty pig-headed by this stage though, and determined to get through it. My pace clearly did slow, but not beyond control. I reached the top feeling pretty happy, but also out of breath and realising that I needed to recover quickly if I wanted to make anything of the finish. And right at this point was one of the race photographers, just to help the situation!

But then came the moment I was waiting for, as we rounded the corner and saw the downhill stretch towards the finish. It’s fair to say I sped up a bit at this point, in some sort of desperate attempt to put the final icing on my perfect race cake. Just as the road levels of (and in fact starts to go up a little), I saw my family cheering at the side. I had nothing left to be able to move over to give Lani a high five (for which I apologised after), and just about managed a wave as I carried on to the line.

Like I said, I told everyone who asked me that this was a benchmark race. But I clearly wanted a course PB (previously 59:13), and my overall 10k PB of 55:22 looked in touching distance based on my parkrun form. So you might be able to imagine how it felt crossing the line in 53:27. Ben later admitted to being completely surprised at seeing my distinctive running gear appear so early (good job I wear Tikiboos or he might have missed me!).

It’s hard to fault the Glastonbury 10k as a race. Medal, technical t-shirt (if you sign up before cut off), free race photos, and great organisation. Oh and a course that is interesting but entirely manageable. Definitely one I’ll consider in future, although I’ve set my bar pretty high by crushing my PB both times I’ve run it so far!

And now I’m basking in the glow of being undeniably in the best running shape I’ve ever been in. Finally I can well and truly stop running in the shadow of 2015. I can’t bask for too long though – I’ve got another race at the end of the month!

First sub-60 and first sub-55. Still not the most attractive finish photo.

Butleigh MT 10k: race report

by Ben

I previously ran this race in both 2017 and 2018, and described the course in the 2018 report, so I won’t go into too much detail again.

After starting my Somerset Series campaign last weekend at the BHAM Trail 10k, it was a back-to-back week of racing, with the Butleigh multi-terrain race coming the following weekend. In between, we had a week at Center Parcs, which was a lovely family holiday, but I’m not all that convinced that the nice meals out and the various activities were all that conducive to race preparation!

As I hadn’t signed up in advance, I arrived suitably early in order to register on the day. And by “suitably early”, I really mean far too early! It was basically just me and the marshals for about quarter of an hour. Registration (once it opened) was nice and straight-forward, and I was soon back in the car listening to a podcast while I waited for other people to arrive. Namely, Matt B, who was bringing my new club vest. A midweek transfer from Running Forever RC to Minehead RC had gone through somewhat quicker than I was expecting!

I’ll admit, pulling on the blue vest of Minehead felt pretty odd after five years of the red and white of Running Forever. (The vest is also a little too big, which is unfortunate. Maybe a hot wash or two?) Still, part of the reason that I made the switch was borne out at the race: there was one other Running Forever member, someone that I don’t know that well, compared to a group of seven of us from Minehead.

Race

Given my cold, I opted to take it pretty easy from the outset; though my splits don’t make it appear that way. I ran an almost identically paced first mile as in each of the last two years, but bear in mind that it was so much firmer this year. So while my time might have been about the same, the amount of effort required for that time was far less. In fact, over the first four miles, I was nearly 45 seconds quicker than last year. My final two miles brought me back to almost exact parity. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I let runners flow past me early on, content to run my own race. Unsurprisingly, because of the conditions, I ran a huge PB on the ‘Up to Reynolds Way’ Strava segment. In previous years, this has been a quagmire of a field, but this year, it was completely solid, resulting in a 26-second improvement. Despite this, it was one of the sections I struggled with; anything uphill meant that I slipped back. I soon found that while I could ‘cruise’ without too much issue, pushing that little bit harder just wasn’t possible, my chest didn’t allow me to step up that extra gear.

Looping around the first field. The t-shirt was possibly a bit of a mistake, but I was worried that if my run was quite slow, I might get cold.

I held pace through the middle section of the race, a combination of descents and flat fields, but the second, long, climb was a real struggle. I slipped back a few positions early on, and could hear more footsteps further up. I glanced back and saw a few runners behind me, but somehow I managed to only let one through. By this stage, around four and a half miles in, with around two to go (another long “10k”), my competitive instincts were straining. Although I was limited by my chest, I was no longer just taking it easy. I was pushing as much as I felt I could, trying to keep hold of positions if I could. I went past a runner that I’d been keeping pace with for a little bit, but then let a Langport runner through. I tried to match pace with the Langport runner, and found that I could do well enough. As the course dropped down out of the woods, I flew back past him again, but not for long, as he overtook me on the subsequent flat.

From there on, the final three-quarters of a mile, things stood pretty equal. The Langport runner eased away from me, while Verity (a fellow Minehead runner) was closing in behind me. I ended up beating her by a couple of seconds, but had the race gone on for another 50 metres, I wouldn’t have had much of a chance!

I need to work out the race number alignment thing…

The results haven’t been posted yet, so I don’t know what position I finished in. I normally wouldn’t have raced with a cold like this, but given that Lolly and I both want to complete the Somerset Series this year, we can’t really afford to miss too many. My position isn’t going to be amazing, but it’s a pretty small field, so hopefully it won’t have done too much damage. Importantly, that’s two races under my belt already, with another couple hopefully coming in May.

Did I enjoy this race? Today: not really, it wasn’t much of a “race” for me.
Would I do this race again? Yes. This was the third year in a row, and I can’t see any reason I won’t be back next year.
What’s next? The Wambrook Waddle on 12 May, which I raced in 2016 and 2017, and Lolly ran in 2015. Lolly has the Glastonbury 10k the week before, which she ran in 2015, and I ran in 2016. (She better get training!)

BHAM Trail 10k: race report

by Ben

The BHAM Trail 10k was a new one in the Somerset Series for this year. They had held their first event in 2018, but it had passed me by (and, who am I kidding, if it’s not in the Somerset Series, I’m not really interested!) BHAM Runners are based in Bower Hinton, Ash and Martock on the Somerset Levels. The Somerset Series already has two races in close proximity, the Ash Excellent Eight, and the Town Tree Trail 10k. The Tin Tin Ten, which is sadly no longer running, used to be just a couple of miles away too.

I hadn’t done a great deal of research before the race, but I did have a quick look at a Strava summary from someone that ran it last year, and discovered that while it was mostly flat (which is to be expected on the Levels) it did start with a downhill, and correspondingly finished uphill. Even so, it totalled less than 250 feet of elevation, so nothing too concerning there. Beyond that, I didn’t really know what to expect.

As usual, I’ll get my excuses in early. I’d been running well this year, building back towards full running fitness, which culminated with my 20:00 at the Street 5k in February. Unfortunately, shortly thereafter I fell over while running on the Quantocks. Then I got shingles. Then I got the diarrhoea and vomiting bug. Happy times. I ended up missing around five weeks of training, and have only had two weeks back so far.

Race day

Parking was a military operation; we were neatly squeezed into a little trading estate. It was a short walk from there to Bower Hinton Farm, which served as the Race HQ. It was a little disappointing that there only appeared to be one porta-loo (plus a porta-urinal). The pre-race instructions had mentioned that there were toilets at the car park, but when I asked the car park marshals, they directed me to the farm.

Timings meant that I ended up missing my warm-up, which was a little unfortunate, but ultimately, I’m not in the kind of form where it’s going to make much of a difference. (The link between warming up and injury reduction is inconclusive, but the links with improved performance are far more apparent.) The children’s race was ran at 9:30, before the adult race (due to start at 10:10) which meant that the race briefing for the 10k doubled up as the prize ceremony for the children’s races, which was a nice touch to make sure that the children got a good crowd. Awarding children model grenades was less suitable, I felt. I get the obvious link between a grenade and the cartoon BHAM! explosion logo that the club use, but while it is fine for the main 10k, it felt inappropriate for the children. But hey, call me Generation Snowflake.

Race

With the race briefing complete, we bimbled over to the start line. It quickly became apparent that there weren’t that many of the typical front-runners. This wasn’t too surprising, as the race was held on the same day as the Taunton Half Marathon. Despite my expectations of struggling somewhat, I lined up in the second row from the front, and with little fanfare, we were set off.

Burnham’s Matt Powell was chuffed with a front-row start! Credit: Derek McCoy

After a short and relatively inconsequential climb, we dropped downhill for the first half mile of the race, and I mostly just let myself off the leash to have fun. The initial back-and-forth position changes went on as we worked ourselves out, but I quickly shuffled into tenth. A top-ten finish would be great, but I didn’t much fancy my chances of holding onto it. The early stages of the race involved a number of narrow muddy paths which were pretty slippery after the recent rain, and I could hear the footsteps closing in behind me as we navigated them. The narrowness of the paths meant that the runners behind couldn’t pass me, and I gained a bit more ground as we crossed a couple of stiles shortly after.

The stiles marked the beginning of the more traditional fare for a race on the Levels; running around the edges of fields. With this came plenty of room for passing, and it wasn’t long before I’d dropped a couple more positions into twelfth. At this stage, around a mile-and-three-quarters in, I was worried that the rest of the race might be a slow progression of other runners easing past me, but despite regular and frequent glances over my shoulder, I seemed to be holding onto twelfth okay.

After the early mud, most of the rest of the course was relatively firm through the fields. At around the three-mile mark, we came out onto the road for a few hundred metres before turning off, back into another field. That was the only significant road section of the race; another couple lasted less than a hundred metres each. The field after was perhaps the toughest section of the race. It was horribly uneven and leg-sapping: I can only imagine how much worse it would have been with a bit more rain!

More fields, more stiles, all good stuff. The aid station (which was somewhere during all this, I really can’t remember where), was dubbed the ‘Claire Station’ as all the volunteers there were named Claire. I didn’t take a drink; I was struggling a little, but water wasn’t going to do much! The only significant climbs of the race were both at the end; a climb up to a residential area on the edge of Bower Hinton at just over five-and-a-half miles, which wasn’t too bad, and then another at about six-and-a-quarter miles, which was.

Yes, six-and-a-quarter miles. This was a long 10k. So long in fact that it was closer to 11k! I had continued to glance over my shoulder, but the expected rush of runners passing me hadn’t happened. Until that last hill. Nicknamed ‘Cripple Hill’, it certainly had the expected effect on me. After managing to run the lower section, I ground to a walk soon after the cheering spectators. I felt nauseous, faint, all the great stuff. It felt like I was walking forever; a pair of runners went past me, and then a third just as I got back up to a jog. I managed to drag a sprint finish out of the reserves to get myself back into fourteenth at the end.

Flying feet during my brief sprint to regain 14th. Credit: the Burke family

A nice medal and goody bag awaited at the finish. A couple of biscuits, a bag of Haribo and a drinks bottle, along with a good quality medal made this race great value at £12. The good value continued at the cake stall: two cakes for 50p, plus a hot drink for the same again – bargain! We hung around long enough for Matt B to receive his bronze grenade for third place. It turns out that if you press the lever, it beeped and made an exploding noise!

Overall, I summarised this race on my Instagram post: “Harder than it should have been today, but to be honest, that’s just the difference between where my head thinks I should be, and where my fitness currently is. Nice course, but leg-sapping terrain in parts. Can’t complain at 14th overall, 13th male. Somerset Series campaign started.“

Did I enjoy this race? Yes.
Would I do this race again? Absolutely.
What’s next? The Butleigh MT 10k next Sunday, which I ran in both 2017 and 2018.

Brent Knoll: race report

by Ben

I have previously taken part in the Brent Knoll Race in 2016, 2015 (when apparently I didn’t blog about it) and 2014. Last year I was injured, but went along anyway to take some photos and go to the Somerset Series presentation afterwards.

Due to illness, I’ve barely run since the Snowdonia Trail Marathon in mid-July, although I did manage to get around the Ash Excellent Eight in August. My monthly stats make some poor reading: I peaked at 131 miles in May, then was around 90 in each of June and July. Then… 29, 36, 18, 9. It’s not a great trend.

It’s been pretty rough: running is one of my main methods of stress relief, so without it, I’ve struggled. Particularly at a time when I’ve been feeling quite low anyway, because of being ill for such a long period. But: I generally seem to be much stronger now, so hopefully I’m through whatever it was, and can get back on with life.

Enough rambling about that – let me ramble about the race. Or at least the most direct pre-race. This is the final race of the Somerset Series. In order to qualify for the series, you have to complete eight of the participating races. I’d done seven. So, I resolved that I was doing this race, whether I could run, walk or crawl it. (Okay, slightly exaggeration possibly.) Given the aforementioned lack of mileage, it was clearly not going to be easy. For those not familiar with the race, it’s worth giving my 2014 report a read: it details it more than I’ll go into again. But I’ll let the Strava elevation plot give you an idea:

So… we got a bump coming up…

The basic race plan was to take it relatively easy, and just finish. So, obviously, I completely overcooked the first mile, cracking along at (quick-for-me-now) 7:16. I maintained much the same pace for the next half a mile. I then refer you to the above plot. I didn’t even try and run/jog/power-walk the hill. It was a trudge.

Trudging. (Credit: Neale Jarrett)

Let me tell you, I was loving it every bit as much as it looked. This is pretty much my favourite race. But it’s an awful one to attempt when unfit. And boy, am I unfit. Still, the first climb was managed without excessive drama (just excessive sulking). My pace dropped off completely from those around me after that exertion though; I started dropping back slowly through the field along the relative flat between climbs. The second climb acted as a leveller, with us all walking, before I dropped back further as we circumnavigated (well, nearly) the summit.

Finally! The descents! Those who know me will know that there is little in life I love more than a trail descent. I took this first one a little bit steady, as I was a bit unsure of how I’d manage, given my lack of recent running. I still managed to pass a few people on the way down, and make up for a fair bit of my previous rubbishness. Of course, once we were back on the flat, they all streamed back past me, but whatever.

On the second descent, I really let myself go, and perhaps for the only stage of the race, had a genuine smile on my face. Of course, once we were back on the flat, they all streamed back past me, but whatever! The rest of the race, about a mile-and-a-half, was just a slog to finish.

Lazy technique. (Credit: Daniel Anderson)

I was glad to finish, and not bothered at all about trying to put in a sprint finish. It was done, I’d completed my eighth race, and qualified for the series. Now it just remained to be seen if I had done enough to finish in the top ten? I’d been (based on points average) eighth coming into this race, but it all depended on how other people had improved compared to me.

While the race wasn’t a great experience for me, it was really good to get out and see the racing community. Being the end of season race, most of the familiar faces were there, and it was nice just to be immersed back into that. As well as that, both of my clubs, Running Forever and Minehead had good contingents at the race, so it was a nice, social occasion. Most importantly though (!) my attendance had paid off, and I finished ninth in the Series – another glass for the shelf!

Club swag!

So… what’s next? I honestly don’t know. I’d like to set down a foundation over the next few weeks, even if it’s just a couple of runs a week. After that, hopefully I can work on getting back up to pace. But first, I’ve got a cold to shift. [EYE ROLL]

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.

Crewkerne 10k: race report

by Ben

TL:DR summary: Not my best day.

I ran the Crewkerne 10k previously in both 2015 and 2017. A truly undulating road course that departs Crewkerne and visits the villages of Merriott and Hinton St George before finishing back in Crewkerne (a bit further in than the start!) In 2015, I found the hills really tough, while in 2017, I was far more at ease, but a bit off the pace still after the birth of our second child.

This year, I looked on this as one of my favourite routes. The hills were rolling, but no individual hill is too bad, and I felt that it played to my strengths: achievable climbs and fun descents. On the day though, nothing really felt right. I woke up feeling overtired (a theme all week – possibly my 19.3 mile, 3,500 ft long run last Sunday was still working its way out of my system). I got to Crewkerne and found the warm-up tough. It was pretty warm – not so crazy hot as the London Marathoners had it this year, but plenty hot enough. According to Garmin, it was 13.9°C in both 2015 and 2017, while this year it reckoned 20°C.

Now that I’ve got all my excuses lined up early, let’s cut to the crux of the matter. I started too fast. A fair bit too fast. I had looked at my splits from last year, reckoning that I was in similar shape (not thinking about the heat), and had seen that the first couple of miles came in just under seven-minute miles. Forgetting that the fact that the first mile has a climb followed by a long descent would mean that my time would improve throughout that mile, I pushed myself too hard around half a mile in to up my pace. My attempt to aim for a 6:55 mile resulted in a 6:40 mile. Sigh.

Unfortunately, this error was compounded by the fact that I didn’t even notice I’d done it. By the time I glanced down at my watch after passing the mile, it was showing a time in the early seven minutes, and I assumed I’d clocked through at about what I’d expected. A 6:40 pace might not sound too extreme, but Strava made it a 6:10 grade-adjusted pace, which definitely wasn’t going to be sustainable. My second mile of 6:57 was much closer to what I should have been running, but felt awful, as runners seemed to stream past me.

I set four Strava segment PRs during this race, despite being slower than last year. Three of them were within the first four kilometres of the race. I was a little surprised to find that one of these segment records came during the climb through Merriott. On reflection I guess it makes sense – both times previously, I’d felt like I was cruising this section, whereas this year it felt like a slog. I’d assumed it was because I was struggling, but in fact, it looks like it was because I was going too fast and pushing myself too hard.

By mile four, my pace was definitely taking a downturn though. I was really suffering from the heat. I’d trialled running with a cap to protect against the sun, and although it was working well from that point of view, it was just a normal cap, rather than a running one, and it was too thick. I eventually (around mile 5) gave up and took it off, but the damage was done by then. Matt Powell from Burnham (@no1mattpowell) was chasing me down, and although I managed to keep him behind for a time, I crashed on the final hill climb and had to walk, letting him through. Looking now, he had a brilliant finish anyway, so it seems unlikely I’d managed to stick with him even if I hadn’t been forced to walk.

Great honeymoon souvenir. Sub-standard running cap.

Somehow, I managed to set a PR on the “One Last Push” segment near the end of the race, but it didn’t really reflect how I was doing at that stage. I managed to sneak in sub-45, timed as 44:44 by my Garmin, 40 seconds slower than last year.

Next up, next weekend, is the Piddle Wood Plod 10k.