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

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

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

Just making sure I get my excuses in early.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“2 – 1 – GO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a face! Credit: Lolly.

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

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

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

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

So much for race preparation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s very easy to get pace-obsessed with running.  Particularly at times when things are going well and improvements are very visible.  But always focussing on your watch takes away some of the simple pleasures of running, and can lead to disappointment.  After a string of PBs, I needed to slow down and forget about my finish time.  Time to hit the trails then…

The Wambrook Waddle is an off-road 10k through private land in, you guessed it, Wambrook, Somerset.  That was pretty much all I knew about it when I signed up.  That and the fact you have to go through a river.  Pictures of people making a splash somehow made it all seem more fun.

We arrived in the parking field the same time as other members of the club.  The marshal organising parking asked us to park further over, as the runners would need to get through.  I looked across the grass, down the hill I would go up at the end, and wondered what I’d let myself in for.  Race registration was in a beautiful barn.  Picking up my number was a fast and smooth process, and pots of safety pins were freely available.

My husband, there in supporter capacity, had been talking to some people about the course, and mentioned to me that it had hills.  Which is, of course, just what you want to hear at the start of the race.  We headed over to the start, which was marked by a tractor.  It was difficult to hear the instructions, as people further back were talking, but I picked up the key points of yellow arrows, red & white tape, and marshals.  And then, we were off.

The start of the race was downhill through a mostly grassy field, with the odd rock here and there to spice things up.  Not that I really needed it spicing up.  Being a certified scaredy-cat I’m not good with steep downhill at the best of times, least of all when it’s off-road.  So quite a few people passed me on the way down.  At the bottom of that hill lay the moment of truth – the River Kit.

Credit: Paul Masters

For me, the difficulty lay not in the river itself, but in the muddy bank on either side.  I couldn’t work out where to get a footing at all, let alone a fast one.  Still, I found a route through and made it safely to the other side.  Without falling over.  Which is more than a lot of people can say (they likely went faster than a tortoise).  With the river safely crossed, I started up the other side, blissfully ignorant of what was to come.

The uphill lasted for over a mile.  Grassy fields turned into woodland, but the hill carried on regardless.  This is the first 10k that I’ve seen with a water station before 1.5 miles.  It was a much appreciated water station.  A brief respite followed in the form of a flat-ish track, but the uphill woodland continued shortly after.  For me, any form of pride at keeping running had disappeared in the river, so almost all of the uphill climb had been a brisk walk.  Then something magical happened.

The terrain started to flatten out, and we were running through bluebell-filled woods.  It was twisty and turny, with tree stumps threatening to take people out, but it was beautiful.  And flat.  Suddenly I had a tiny bit of confidence back, and my outlook changed.  The route turned downhill, on the sort of bumpy path that normally freaks me out even walking.  But somehow I was running down it.  Until it got wet and slippy that is.  I pretty much ground to a halt then, and was lucky enough to get words of encouragement from some lovely Axe Valley runners who nearly bumped into me in the process.

From this point on, my memory of the route order gets a little hazy, so while these things all happened they may not be in the right places.  Reaching the end of one field provided yet another race-first for me, when I worked out that the arrow was indeed pointing for me to climb over a fence (thankfully a short one!).  Running along the edge of crop fields was an enjoyable experience.  Hard work though.

One memorable slog uphill was on a farm track.  In a fit of optimism I was attempting to run, until I realised that the person in front of me was walking and going faster.  Needless to say I followed suit.  The second water station was very welcome, and the lovely marshal told me I was welcome to keep walking up the hill with my cup, which suited me well.

Note the hills

Although I knew about the river crossing, there were actually 3 water crossings on the route.  The third was my favourite, as the ground was solid either side and the water was clear enough to see the rocks.  It was actually uphill just before the water, but I made the effort to run through (ok, so there was a camera).  Clearly I got a bit too carried away at the excitement of splashing, as I lost my footing heading up the other side.  I successfully broke my fall, although my wrist and elbow spent the next few minutes wishing I hadn’t.

I learned a lot as the race went on.  I found myself running downhill on grass – at one point I nearly couldn’t stop for a turning.  The sorts of uneven surfaces that had fazed me at the beginning started to feel natural.  I even started to get better at working out when to run and when to walk.  But my legs really struggled, and I realised that I hadn’t eaten anywhere near enough beforehand.

Turning a corner, I could see the field with the cars in.  The target was in sight.  Until it got hidden behind the hill.  One of those wonderful hills that keeps giving more every time you think you’re approaching the top.  But eventually the top was there.  Faster runners were heading back to their cars.  A few of them stopped to cheer me on, which was very much appreciated.

This just left the short stretch of country lanes to get me back to the barn.  The solid, downhill ground, combined with lots of support from faster runners, made for a positive end to a difficult race.  Other members of my club were cheering at the final corner, and then the finish funnel appeared.  I wasn’t 100% sure exactly where the finish line was, so I kept going until I’d passed all the official looking people.

Someone else was handing out the race mementos – stretchy scarves with the race name on.  The barn contained several very cheerful people selling food and drinks.  Whoever baked the chocolate brownie was particularly amazing.  I joined my fellow club members to cheer other runners home, and to reflect that we didn’t feel cheated at all by the 10k ‘only’ lasting 5.8 miles.  That was plenty.

Chard Road Runners should be proud of a wonderfully organised race.  Despite the cursing, the legs of lead, and the feelings of inadequacy, I really did enjoy it.  Definitely one to put in your calendar for next year,