Running Rhino at Ayr parkrun

It’s Christmas Day in Ayr and Carrie and I are celebrating this festival of wine, beer, pigs in blankets and Christmas pud. by popping down to Rozelle Park to run the 5k parkrun. Just to make it that bit more interesting I’ll be wearing a rhino costume.

I got a great reception when I arrived, with a mighty cheer from all the lovely folks assembled near the start. There were several santas, some dogs and a couple of running buggys amongst the crowd. The run director tried to give her pre run briefing but stumbled a little. “Sorry folks,” she said, “I was distracted by the rhino.”

We trotted off through the trees and away toward the lakes. There’s a hill first. “Waaaah!” says I as I find myself bowling down the hill desperately trying to stay on my feet. “WAAAAY!” say the spectators in response perhaps mistaking my yell of terror for exuberant celebration.

Around the lakes and back again, passing the start. We weave through the trees and start the second lap. I’m starting to overheat again now. There are no distance markers ( none that I saw) on this parkrun but I reckon we must be about half way. It is distinctly unglamorous inside this suit at the moment. The change from very cold to very hot has made my nose run and I am producing huge amounts of sweat. It’s as well folk can’t see into here too well. It’s not a pretty sight.

It seems a long way but eventually I reach that blessed turn out of the trees onto the open field. At this point I can see the finish line and I suddenly feel a new surge of energy. Hmmmm, thinks I. This extra energy would have been much more useful earlier on when I was struggling up that hill.

I run through the funnel and then peer left and right looking for my finishing tag. I can’t see it. Then again I can’t see much out of this rhino costume. I really must take some video for you sometime so that you can see what I can see when I’m wearing this thing.

pic of rhino at finish line

I take off the rhino head to try and cool down but I’m soon having to don it again so that people can take photographs. There are mince pies available and we stand around chatting to folks. It was wonderfully friendly and I’d like to thank everyone at Ayr parkrun who made my visit such a delightful experience.

pic of rhino with christmas lightsIf anyone gets the urge to donate to Save The Rhino then please visit the page http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt and donate whatever you feel you can afford.

A Windy Seashore

It’s Christmas time and what does that mean?

Well, one of the things it means is that my wife and I hire a  car a go to visit our Northern mothers (one in Ayr and one in Leeds). The other thing is that I get to run in some different places. Hurrah, let’s pack up the car and be on our way.

Ayr is our first destination and is a fine seaside town on the West coast of Scotland. Ayr is often windy and this Christmas it seems to have settled in to really show off its talent for flinging we fragile human beings hither and thither along the prom.

pic of Sea at Ayr

Everyone is huddled up in their rain clothes peering out at me bustling along in my running shorts. They shake their heads sadly at this poor fool who was obviously dropped on his head as a child and now doesn’t even have the sense to stay indoors when the Scottish weather starts to do its thing. I’ve been out three times so far and it’s been a mighty battle each time.

The first outing was the most pleasant. I only received a medium level battering and by the time I’d passed DoonFoot and was slogging my way up the beach, past the castle and on to the holiday camp I was taking it all in my stride (admittedly sometimes my stride went sideways as the wind gave me a playful little nudge).

pic of Ayr Castle

Approaching the castle (more of a small tower really) there was a sheer cliff face. Tempted as I was to explore further, I felt there was more running to be done before scrambling about on the cliffs so I saved that one for the way back. I’m glad I did as the climb was a little easier from the other side.

pic of tower at ayr

I couldn’t actually get inside though. The doors and windows had been bricked up. A shame but possibly necessary to cut down on vandalism. Running back was much easier as the wind was behind me. I actually felt that I was cheating a little having the wind carry me along so twisted my route around a little so that I could run into the wind again. I see you there giving me a funny look but I maintain that it was a perfectly rational thing to do.

Next time out things started to get really silly. The promenade from where I’m staying on Prestwick road down to the docks was receiving a soaking as waves crashed over onto the road. It looked splendidly dramatic but was quite worrying and involved some paddling to get by this and into Ayr.

I persevered and then checked my phone to see how far I’d gone. Drat! My running app had stopped recording and so showed that I had run about 1 kilometre whereas I was at about 5. Ah well, back I go into the splashing waves and the paddling pool road. The wind was behind me here and I kept on, going past where I started, to twiddle about in the streets for a bit. Excellent fun but rather more weather than I like to confront all in one go.

pic of beach

Third time out was just appalling. it started off at about the same intensity as day two but with Storm Eva having just whistled on through it was dragging a bunch of squally squabbly weather systems it its wake.

I hit the sea front and was about to run into Ayr when I spotted a small path going away toward Prestwick. Always keen to explore I jumped on it and wombled my way along between the sea and the golf course. The waves were being as dramatic as on the previous day but I wasn’t going to let a bit of weather stop me from getting in the miles. I passed a sign later telling me that I could get hit by flying golf balls and that it was all at my own risk. Fortunately I knew I was safe. Golfers are renowned for coming out in all sorts of weathers but this force of wind is enough to dissuade even the most maniacal of golfers. I ended up in the town of Prestwick and thought of carrying on to the airport (famous for being the only bit of the UK that Elvis Presley ever visited. He touched down there while changing planes) but turned instead back into the streets that would take me back home. It was then that the hail began. The wind flung the hail at me with incredible force and it did feel like I was being soundly whipped. I was stuck out in the open and not enjoying it at all. It was then that I discovered that I was quite lost. I also realised that I was feeling quite miserable. OK, fix this. I opened up the running app on my phone. I expanded the view and there not so far away was the blue line showing where I had first began, only a couple of kilometres away. Hurrah thinks I. Head down and head for home.

I arrived back and, of course, it stopped hailing just before I went into the house. “It’s horrible out there says I.” “Looks OK to me says loving wife.” “It was hailing a minute ago” I claim. She shakes her head sadly. “You’ve turned into a soft Southerner haven’t you?”

“Harumph” says I.

That told her.

Jim’s Rhino Running Tour Of Parkruns

Over December and the Christmas and New Year period I’ve been doing a tour of parkruns to raise awareness amongst fellow parkrunners for the charity Save The Rhino and to try and encourage fellow runners to donate to that charity through my London marathon rhino fundraising page at http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt .

It all started with the:

5th December Cambridge parkrun written up here at http://www.abitofrunning.com/running-with-rhinos-in-milton-country-park/

jimrhinosm

And then we packed the rhino suit into the car to go to Huntingdon

12th December Huntingdon parkrun written up here at http://www.abitofrunning.com/running-rhino-in-huntingdon/

rhino at Huntingdon
A Rhino in the Room

19th December Wimpole parkrun written up here at http://www.abitofrunning.com/rhino-parkrunning-at-wimpole-estate/

rhino at Wimpole

25th December Ayr parkrun written up here http://www.abitofrunning.com/running-rhino-at-ayr-parkrun/

ayrstart

26th December Eglinton parkrun written up here http://www.abitofrunning.com/rhino-runs-for-tablet-at-eglinton-parkrun/

pic of jim and carrie arriving at Eglinton parkrun

1st Jan Woodhouse Moor 0900 written up here http://www.abitofrunning.com/new-years-day-on-woodhouse-moor/

pic of sam and me

1st Jan Temple Newsam 10:30 written up here http://www.abitofrunning.com/a-temple-newsam-parkrun-rhino/

pic of rhino at Temple Newsam

2nd Jan Oakwell Hall My muddiest parkrun so far. Written up here http://www.abitofrunning.com/rhino-running-in-oakwell-mud/

ic of Jim the rhino at Oakwell Hall

Rhino parkrunning at Wimpole Estate

We are gathering outside the stable block and I’m feeling a little nervous. There seem to be a huge number of dogs around and I’ve discovered recently that my rhino costume tends to make them nervous. When dogs get nervous they tend to get a bit more barky and bitey than usual and I’m not keen on engaging too closely with anything that wants to bite me. I find that these dogs are nervous but they are calm, cool and sophisticated dogs. They keep a wary eye upon me lest I go bezerk and start goring people with my horn but for now they reckon they’ll let me live.

We had our prerun briefing and my wife Carrie is invited to say a few words to let everyone know about Save The Rhino and my fundraising page, http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt .

We are released onto the course and begin to stomp our way through the fields. The cows and sheep are uninterested in our progress. The marshalls make up for the disinterest by redoubling their shouts of encouragement.

We reach the far side of the field and turn right. The wind blasts across and I find myself running sideways. Richard who is my rhino guide looks at me curiously as I begin to drift away. I fight my way back to the track and eventually reach what looks to me like a vertical cliff face. It’s actually just a hill but with fighting the wind I’m really feeling it. I have to slow to a walk as I climb to the top and thankfully there’s a little downhill on the other side. I relax a little but then when I get to the bottom the wind has returned and there are giant lakes of mud impeding my path. It was a tough run. Massive amounts of heat built up in my suit as I continually fought the wind and tried to run in a straight line and then Richard has to pull me out of the mud. Eventually we passed the 4km mark and turned toward the bridge. Just a few yards in front of us a chap slipped and fell heavily. His feet went into the air as if he was some silent movie comedian doing a number on a banana skin. He wasn’t down for long though. He clambered back to his feet, shook himself like a dog that’s just climbed out a a lake and carried on. Maybe there was a PB at stake. I trod carefully upon the bridge. Runners before me had trampled huge amounts of mud onto the bridge and then compressed it until it had become a solid mass of super slidey death mud. Needless to say I stepped gingerly over the bridge of slips.

I turned in front of the glorious Wimpole Hall and then back to the start/finish line to cheering rhino fans. I was absolutely exhausted and definitely couldn’t claim myself a rhino PB this time.

If anyone gets the urge to donate to Save The Rhino then please visit the page http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt and donate whatever you feel you can afford.

 

Running Rhino in Huntingdon

We huffed and puffed and shoved and shoved.

The rhino suit was stashed in the back of Richard’s car and I slid myself underneath it. This costume was not designed with portability in mind. It spreads itself into every available space. I pronounce myself and rhino fully installed installed and away we go.

rhino suit in car
It just fits

I’ve only ever been to the Huntingdon parkrun once before so I thought I knew what to expect. I remembered us winding our way around Hinchingbrooke Country Park, taking in the lakes and then making our way back over the hill. I chatted to one of the park wardens and he told me that the previous route had become a contentious issue with many other park users who were more than a little unhappy about the runners churning it up and turning the park into pools of water decorated with ridges of Huntingdon’s finest sludgy mud. Parkrun, always keen to remain good neighbours had agreed to alter the course to try and stick to the harder surfaces. It isn’t as pretty but while attempting to drag myself and rhino suit around the 5k I was quite grateful for those non sludgy surfaces.

I got a lovely reception from the other parkrunners and I posed for many pictures. They even did a nice little announcement at the start telling folks what I was up to and even trying to explain why I was wandering around in a rhino suit.

We also attended the new runners and visitors talk and were reminded that slower runners and rhinos should keep to the right to allow faster runners to pass.

Carrie took some photos of me and this one I find particularly amusing.

I’m standing in the middle of a crowd of folk and they all have their backs to me. Carrie suggests that the caption should be ‘the rhino in the room’.

rhino at Huntingdon
A Rhino in the Room

We set off and I lumbered after the crowd wagging my little rhino tail behind me. At the first turn there was this crazy person (hello Henry) shouting at us. He has huge amounts of that wonderful parkrun enthusiasm packed into one person and releases it without reservation upon everyone that passes. It’s a little disconcerting (terrifying) when first encountered but delightful next time around when I knew what to expect.

start of race
Just before start

The path was really nice and we wound around in amongst the trees. I’m moving well and begin to pass folks. They wish me well as I silently glide by. OK OK, I bustle past in a flurry of noise and bizarre bouncing costume bits careering out in every direction. It must be a traumatic experience for many. I pass one person and assure her that she’ll probably pass me again later. She thinks maybe not but reckons she has an excuse for keeping it nice and steady this week. This is her first time back running after having a baby. I think she said she gave birth two weeks ago!

We see Henry again and are now prepared for his force nine enthusiasm. He puts wind in our sails and I’m now shuffling along as fast as my little rhino legs will carry me. I yomp home in a time of 33:29 which I claim as my rhino parkrun PB. Huntingdon parkrun have a wonderful tradition and if you know you’ve got a personal best then you ring the PB bell. I rang it heartily and did a rhino dance of celebration.

Jolly good fun

We put together some video clips of the run.

Hope you enjoy:

If anyone gets the urge to donate to Save The Rhino then please visit the page http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt and donate whatever you feel you can afford.

 

Running with Rhinos in Milton Country Park

It was a frightfully windy day on the 5th of December in a small village on the periphery of Cambridge. People were converging upon Milton Country Park for the weekly 5K parkrun.

A large grey creature stepped out onto the street and wobbled a little as it tried to figure out where the footpath was. The ever helpful Carrie stepped in front and the rhino followed along. Cars stopped in the street, dogs barked and people stared as we staggered onwards.

We arrived at around 08:30 and the photographer from Cambridge News was already there. He waved and pointed and we all moved this way and that to the rhythm of the media. Various parkrun volunteers were ushered across to join in and a queue of people formed up to have their picture taken with the rhino. Having no peripheral vision and not being able to hear too much I just stood there most of the time as things happened around me.

Carrie was busy handing out cards with the web address of the fundraising site and offering people stickers with the logo for Save The Rhino. The kids, in particular seemed to like the stickers. Several people gave us their coffee money and on behalf of the rhinos we were happy to accept.

We set off at 9 o clock and I shuffled after the crowd. I was moving well but had no idea where I was putting my feet. I stumbled several times over puddles, holes and even a small pebble.

The noise inside my suit was incredible. The whole thing was bouncing about and all I could hear was swishing and swooshing and banging and crashing. Richard was running beside  me and trying to keep up the conversation. I yelled back as best I could. I suspect I misheard most of what he said and it’s quite possible that most of my responses made no sense at all. Nice chap that he is though he made no mention of this and still struggled valiantly to chat and guide me along as we ran through the park.

We started slowly but increased the pace as we went along. An ache developed in my back probably brought on by my having to bend forward to peer out of the suit. As our pace increased we started to pass people and made several of them (especially the ones wearing headphones) jump and utter little shrieks. Evil rhino that I am, I found this immensely satisfying.

It was an incredibly difficult run. I got hotter and hotter inside the costume and was nicely stewed by the end. I staggered over the line feeling enormously relieved to get there without keeling over and becoming stranded rhino in a puddle in the park. Various people have suggested that I try to run the marathon in the rhino suit. After this outing I can confidently say that I haven’t the strength or the stamina to do it. It’s possible that I may gain this stamina and strength with my winter training but very unlikely.

Jim in rhino suit
Richard checks to see if I’m still alive in there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

miltonrhino03
My friend Richard carrying the rhino head

So, it was a lot of fun but was it a success from a fundraising point of view?

We took 22 pounds in cash at the event and I’ve been posting tweets, blogs and videos about it all day. A good number of donations have come in to the  website http://virginmoneygiving.com/jimmowatt and now at 20:52 in the evening I see that we’ve added 117 pounds to the total for Save The Rhino.

Cambridge News rang me for an interview and they’ve got a whole bunch of photos for the paper so maybe we’ll get a few more donations from that.

It was an enjoyable day. Cambridge parkrun and my fellow parkrunners were all splendidly supportive. My friends Lloyd, Steve and Richard all helped and it was great to have them around. Run director Paul Beastall was really great and of course my wonderful wife Carrie ensured that I was organised and handed out stickers and contact cards to anyone that wanted one. She also made sure that I didn’t get run over on the way to and from the parkrun for which I was most grateful.

Most excellent fun!

Collecting Rhino Suit

I’ve volunteered to run the London Marathon next year and am raising money for Save The Rhino. My fundraising link is here . Please bung a few quid in the direction of the rhinos.

I picked up the suit from the offices of Save The Rhino on 30th November and then had the wonderfully bizarre experience of trying to get it back to Cambridge on public transport. Fortunately everyone we encountered was absolutely wonderful and splendidly helpful.

We hung around at the Save The Rhino Office for a while, took some pictures and video and then set off back to Cambridge.

Walking back to Borough tube station we were tooted many times by passing traffic and then ushered through the turnstiles by the lovely folks at the Borough. They asked me to do a bit of posing as they took pictures with their phones to show what sort of people they had to deal with every day. Being the frightful poseur that I am I was only too happy to be photographed by the people on the turnstiles.

I couldn’t stand up straight on the tube train and spent most of my time bent over trying not to get in the way of people boarding and alighting the train. I heard someone say to Carrie, “he could sit over here.” She thanked them but said “I don’t think it’s possible for him to sit down.” We lurched out at Kings Cross and into the train station. Thankfully we had got there before rush hour and so managed to find a place where I could unlatch myself from rhino costume and drape it across several seats.

We had wondered about catching a bus from Cambridge train station but having now witnessed the sheer size of this rhino costume we realised that it just had to be a taxi. We were asked searching questions about the costume in the queue. These are the same questions I am asked many times so I shall try to answer them here:

How heavy is it?   Not very heavy. It’s only about 10 kilogrammes but it is frightfully awkward and bounces about everywhere.

Is it really difficult to get in and out of? Not as difficult as  you might think. It’s got a rucksack structure inside it so you just need to strap it on.

Can you see out of it?   Not very well. I have no peripheral vision. I just see a porthole in front of me and so rely quite heavily on people with me to make sure I don’t veer left or right in front of other folks.

Do you think you can run a marathon in it?  Currently no. I don’t have the strength or stamina to run 26 miles in this contraption. I dearly wish that I could, as it would be brilliant for Save The Rhino if I could promote them in that way.

We got into a taxi with some difficulty. We put the head in the boot and the costume in the back seat. It entirely filled up the space there and I slid underneath it. I suspect the driver wasn’t entirely pleased that the spikes that the head slides on to were digging into his roof. I’m pretty sure that they didn’t do any damage.

The rhino suit is now filling up our spare bedroom. No visitors I’m afraid until the rhino has left the building.

rhinobedroomsm

The cats are now terrified of that room

 

Finally I would like to say thank you here to Grace at Save The Rhino who has already given me so much help and encouragement. Also to my wife Carrie who helped me to get the costume home and gave massive support on my first run in the rhino suit, of which more in the next blog post.

 

 

 

Cambridge Town and Gown 10K – A New Personal Best Time

I look around at the start of the race and there’s a sea of orange stretching before and behind me. This is a race organised to benefit Muscular Dystrophy UK and they’ve requested that people wear the orange that represents that charity. I’ve dug out my Wicked Walden tee shirt in which I blend in nicely with the background throng. Now how often have you heard someone claiming to blend in to anywhere in an eye searingly orange tee shirt.

We set off with the usual shuffle. There’s a lot of stepping around and about as I try to find a way through. Even as we turn left onto Chesterton road and have one entire side of the road to ourselves it’s still quite difficult to find enough room to run at your own pace.

I take a quick inventory of my aches and pains for today. I have a bit of a hamstring pain in my left leg. This makes a bit of a change as it’s usually the right leg. My left foot is also uncomfortable. I’m considering whether I should stop and loosen the laces. I figure it’s only a 10K so I may as well just cope with it and keep going.

I think it was somewhere on Chesterton Road that I first spotted the people running in onesies. I think one of them was a tiger and the other was some kind of blue dinosaur with purple spots on it. They were a little way in front of me so I gritted my teeth, increased the speed and shuffled on by, leakingsparadeving them to choke on my dust. We ran back into the city centre past King College Chapel and the Senate House. Carrie was there waiting with the camera and, of course, I couldn’t resist a bit of a pose.

Kings College is also doing a bit of posing there in the background but it does it much more naturally than I.

We then turned on to Jesus lane and watched a line of traffic that was going nowhere until the race ended. It contained many quietly simmering drivers trying to kill us with their eyes. We waved and smiled merrily as we passed by. We turned left on to Victoria Avenue and were greeted by the welcome sight of the drinks station. You probably don’t really need a drink of water on a 10K in October but psychologically it feels really good. I always grab a drink of water whether I need one or not. it gives me a real boost. Then we turned on to Jesus Green. I was feeling reasonably good although starting to slow down a little. Then horror of horrors the tiger and dinosaur onesie people came cruising past me. I was a little rocked back. I’d passed these people as if they were standing still earlier in the race. Had I really slowed down so much? Had they speeded up? I saw them run off into the distance and felt a little deflated. I’d thought I was going well and then the onesie people showed my poor effort for what it was. A little bit more of this whining and psychic self mutilation went on and then I managed to push it all to the side. I could still see the onesie people in the distance. Why don’t I try chasing them down.

I increased my speed bit by bit. I could see that the tiger and dinosaur were no longer pulling away from me although still quite a distance in front. I held that gap for the next two kilometres as we ran along the river and back to Elizabeth Way Bridge. There was another drink there which I grabbed gratefully and then surged on. We were only two kilometres away from the finish now and I still had some energy to spare. The onesie people were still about 500 yards in front of me and I gritted my teeth and increased the speed. It seemed that they were doing likewise. I was passing other people but the Tiger and Dinosaur still taunted me from their position of dominance.

Damn them and their furry coats.

I ran down the side of the Grafton centre and I could now see the finish line on Midsummer Common and a little bit later there was the 9 kilometre marker. Right – now is the time. There’s only one kilometre left. This is my last chance. I turned right along Victoria Avenue and I see that I’m catching them up. This is now beginning to look possible. I can do it. I will beat these onesie people. It just takes a little more pain and a dollop of agony.

I turned right on to Midsummer Common and the gap has now decreased substantially. I surged forward and as we zig-zagged across the common I caught and passed them. All I had to do was to keep up the pace for another few hundred yards. I saw Carrie on the left as I pushed on toward the finish and I tried to catch sight of the time clock but far too many people had decided that this was a good place to stand. It looked like it might be 56 minutes and something but I’m not sure.

I cross the line and am busily pressing buttons on my phone trying to get some information. It is frustratingly slow to update so I give it a moment. I collect my tee shirt, water and medal. Then Richard and Carrie find me. They reckon I’ve done well and may have a new PB. Strava eventually did update and I saw the magical numbers, 56:05. That’s a new personal best for me by a looong way. I’ve been progressively getting better and better 10K times this year. First at St Ives where I got 57:52 which I was delighted at. Then I got Saffron Walden where I romped home in 57:25 and thought was the pinnacle of my efforts.  This time I had managed 10K in 56:05 which was better than I would ever have dreamed.

photo 5 (3)Thank you soooo much to those people dressed as Tiger and Dinosaur that gave me that extra incentive to push that little bit harder.

I got a new personal best and Richard, Jackie, Carrie and I went to the Castle pub on Castle hill to celebrate with Adnams beer and Castle burgers. Chris Newell joined us later and he had good news too. He jumped straight into running with marathons and half marathons and had never done a 10K before. Chris got a personal best but that’s not entirely surprising as he’d never run a 10K before. He ran 44:10 and seemed pleased with that.

As for me – I’m still doing the happy dance over 56:05. It’s far faster than I would have ever dreamed of. Thank you Tiger and Dinosaur.

Wish I’d have got a photo of them.

 

 

The Blenheim Half Marathon

This run was a little further afield than I’ve gone previously. This one was primarily about the place and its connection to a hero of mine, John Churchill, the first Duke of Marlborough. Take a look at my podcast series here if you want to see the full horror of my fanboy obsession.

We booked a room to stay in Woodstock after the race and a car to get there so at 07:30 in the morning we were on our way. Many roundabouts later (you have to pass through the edges of the dastardly Milton Keynes) we arrived, parked up and then stumbled about in the atmospheric mists to find the race start.

palace

Blenheim Palace, even shrouded in mist looked a splendid sight. It’s a building that invokes mixed emotions in many. It is an extremely grand and imposing building but does get rather carried away with Baroque twirly bits. The words subtle and Blenheim Palace are rarely used in the same sentence. I adore it and felt a warm glow of joy and affection for the building and its grounds as I walked down to the start line. I’m also feeling considerable affection for my wife Carrie, who is with me, offering invaluable support, taking pictures and trying not to mention how worried she is about me running with such a stinking cold.

jimover2hoursWe are given a choice at the start as to whether we’re under two hour runners or over. With a personal best of 2:12:42 from the Cambridge Half Marathon I have to put myself in the over 2 hour pens while all the speedy folk line push forward closer to the start line.

10:30 and we’re off. The speedy runners move and then it’s our turn. There was a bit of a panic while the marshal tried to tear the plastic strip that kept us in our pen. She didn’t succeed but people jumped in to help and slid it to the ground so we could jump over it.

We ran over the bridge toward the Blenheim Victory Column and then turned left up the first of what were to be a surprising number of hills. Don’t get me wrong – these aren’t huge vertical inclines. They are more like undulations than hills but I live in Cambridge. It’s nearly all flat here so we’re likely to even refer to speed bumps as hills. I am however starting to develop a technique for these undulations that seems to help a little. Running downhill can be quite painful. The books all tell me that I can ease this pain by turning my legs over fast and making it into some kind of semi-controlled falling action. It sounds bizarre but it actually does seem to work and it means I go a lot faster downhill than I normally would. The difficulty I found today, was with my breathing. My chest felt really clogged up so when I did my faster downhill descents I was reaching for deeper breaths, failing and then gasping like a beached fish. I must have looked like I was having a heart attack.

We were running around a loop and I was seeing signs that said 6 kilometres. My  goodness, thinks I, we’ve gone further than I thought. A little later I saw a sign for 3 miles and was terribly confused. The kilometres kept clocking up but the miles were sadly lacking. I eventually figured out that the kilometre markers were for the 10K race later in the day. I should ignore these and only take notice of the mile markers.

blenheim-palace-2015-route-map1

We headed out of the grounds onto a road. Half of it had been closed so we were protected from the traffic by a row of traffic cones standing silent sentry guard from encroaching homicidal motor vehicles. There were more hills but also more mile markers. When you set off on a half marathon run the 13 miles seems a ridiculously long way away. There’s no point looking towards the end as it’s just too far away to contemplate. At about 7 miles all that suddenly changes. You start to realise that the end, if not in sight, is actually somewhere that you could reach and you might not even die of exhaustion and despair on the way. The 7 and 8 mile markers came along in quick succession but then I got an entirely new pain afflicting me. The call of nature didn’t so much beckon as thwap me in the stomach making immediate demands. I nipped off into a field to pee and then jumped back into the race trying desperately to look as nonchalant as possible whilst giving off the impression that I’d just nipped into the hedge to investigate an interesting looking berry. I suspect not one single person was fooled.

Unfortunately the peeing helped not a jot. There were more significant movements going on down there and I was extremely uncomfortable. I could do nothing more than try to push these feelings aside. The end was only around 50 minutes away. Surely nothing really horrendous would happen before then. My imagination begged to differ and was absolutely certain something downright horrible was going to happen right here and right now. This battle continued throughout the rest of the run. It was extremely unpleasant but that’s all just part of the experience.

Despite the discomfort the miles kept dropping away and I soon began to hear the crowds around the finish line. The sound would tease and tantalise as I drew closer and then seemed to veer away and then back again. A couple of twists and turns later and I can see the grand house in the distance. Up the hill we go and I hear the announcer shouting my name. I grit my teeth and surge forwards. I am looking from left to right but there’s no sign of my wife Carrie. I stagger across the line, grab my medal and a bottle of water.

Wandering across toward the lake to find somewhere to sit down for a bit, medal
Carrie finds and congratulates me. It seems I’ve caught her unawares. I’ve finished much sooner than she expected. It’s looking like a new personal best. I am pleased but there’s another urgent matter that is pressing hard upon. I disappear into the visitor centre in search of a public convenience. What happened inside there is too diabolical to relate here. I think we should perhaps just pull the veil over this and just say that all ended happily without loss of life or limb.

I had the time confirmed later as 2:09:08

 

 

A Long Slow Run

I always try to get in a fairly long run if I possibly can on a Sunday morning. If I get up early I can be out and back before my partner even begins to stir.

This morning however I was out for some considerable time and she had already stirred and begun to wonder if I was laying in a ditch somewhere with my life’s blood oozing out onto the abundant vegetation that surrounded and encased my defenceless body.

The truth was somewhat more prosaic.

I had set off without any kind of plan and then just kept going. I got lost several times but ended up covering what,for me is a very long distance (25km). It’s given me real hope that, with training, I may be able to complete my first marathon next year.

I began my run just weaving around Milton Country Park trying to figure out where I was going next. My first thought was the busway. This is a nice long straight piece of tarmac that’s really easy to run on. It was tempting but I decided against it in favour of something that might be a bit more of an adventure.

I broke out of the Country Park and headed toward the river. First decision there – should I turn left toward Clayhithe or right and over Baits Bite Lock. I chose the latter and over the river I went, heading straight on through the field, over a tiny wooden bridge that made me think of Billy Goats Gruff and Trolls and then up to Horningsea.

In Horningsea I found a lovely bit of green and a village hut/hall type thing. There was a bucket on a stand there which looked like it might have been part of the V.E. Day celebrations or possibly some Satanic rites. Maybe there is more going on in Horningsea than I might have imagined.

I romped around the funky little green area for a while and then spun off down the road a little. On Clayhithe Road there is a public footpath that points across the fields to the right. I’ve got lost on this footpath before so thought I would give it another try to see what happened this time. As soon as I got on to the field I was confronted with three choices. The one to the right says absolutely no entry. There are nesting birds and I should not be stomping along there disturbing them. I’m thinking that it’s awfully late in the year for nesting birds and that they should damn well hatch or get off the nest but I chose the path that seemed to loop around the hill and head for this huge electricity pylon (I’m told by someone who used to work with mapping infrastructure that I shouldn’t call them pylons – apparently their proper name is towers). I encountered a field of food that I decide is probably corn and joy of joys there has been a path cut right through the middle of it. It is always such a relief while running through fields to have the way so clearly marked. I always worry that I might be straying onto areas where I’m unwelcome.
I run on through the fields and arrive at the pylon/tower thing. There are an abundance of signs here. Which way should I go?

A Sign

Well I’d just come from Horningsea so probably not that one.
Fen Ditton is a possibility but it does take me back towards home and I’m not ready to turn around yet. Quy is a good possibility but wait, there’s another option around the far side.

tolode

To Lode is says or if I wanted to be really adventurous I could go all the way to Wicken Fen. I decided to go to Lode and then consider which way to turn at that point.
I ran on down the path and eventually reached a road. There are a few houses here that I decide is probably Lode and another sign.
tobottisham

It’s very tempting to run down toward Bottisham and the river.

Hmmm – I take stock and realise that my legs are actually starting to hurt a little so I should start to circle around back toward home. I shall leave Bottisham Lock for another day. I turned right into the picturesque village of Lode. It is a breathtakingly beautiful little village. Lots of thatched cottages, modern bungalows and some touches of Georgian splendour. One of the joys of being out on a run with no pre-planned route is that I can take off in any direction I wish. I took advantage of this freedom in Lode darting off down a number of little alleys and alluringly beautiful pathways.I found a village green and something called Fassage Hall which sounds terribly old and grand but is actually a very modern looking village hall. It looked a splendid purpose built facility although not quite what I expected. I startled a number of dog walkers sauntering down the lanes. They all recovered quickly and wished me a cheery good morning as wound around and about, taking in the delights of Lode.
There were so many things I would have liked to photograph but I was trying to tell myself not to bugger about quite so much and actually do a bit of running. I couldn’t run past this building though without stopping to take a picture.
houseinlode
I’ve no idea what it is but it is a little bit special I’m sure you’ll agree.

I continued onwards until I encountered the National Trust property, Anglesey Abbey. It was closed but I was tempted into the grounds by a public footpath sign. Surely this won’t take me too far out of my way I thought, and I’ll just loop around the grounds and back out onto the road a little bit further down. I ran across the car park and down through the trees. There were many pathways there but I didn’t see any signage so had no idea which way I was going or even whether I was still on the public footpath.
I passed a couple walking their dog and they waved and smiled as I ran by. There was a tiny river/stream here and I followed its track as it emerged from the trees and snaked away into what looked like an endless chain of fields stretching as far as the eye could see. I followed the path for some time but it became more and more impassable as it continued onwards. My run quickly changed to a strange hopping, skipping and delicate sideways shuffle as I tried to avoid being nettled or scratched by brambles. I decided that this was probably no longer a path and turned back. I met the dog walking couple down the trail a little and decided that maybe I should ask for some directions.
“You’ve probably figured out I’m lost” I said as I ran back towards them. “No no” They said. “We thought you’d just had enough and were coming back.” I assured them I was, in fact, quite lost and was trying to head towards Stow Cum Quy and then to curve back towards Fen Ditton from there. They assured me that my route through the impassable brambles was the correct one and that if I persevered then Stow Cum Quy would be within my grasp. I turned back and fought my way through the undergrowth once more.
It went on and on and on but eventually it became more like a path and I stepped onto something that actually looked like a dirt track that could lead somewhere.
I stepped out onto the track and was confronted by another dog walker. I hailed her and asked whether I was heading in the right direction for Stow Cum Quy. She assured me that I was. She was tall, with brown hair swept back into a pony tail and wearing dark glasses. She looked like a French film star hiding from her millions of fans in darkest Cambridgeshire. She moved like a dancer and when she raised her hand to point the way I had to fight the impulse to applaud her grace and beauty. I thanked her profusely and continued onwards.
Stow Cum Quy was soon upon me and I turned right to head toward Newmarket Road.
This is a lovely little footpath that somehow manages to duck and weave away from the crazy roundabout that will take the eager motorist onto the mega highway that is the A14. The path leads you down onto Newmarket road and then through the Park and Ride site to Fen Ditton. I then found the footpath that took me to the church and onto the village green. It’s while running through these places that I realise how fortunate I am to live where I do. In one run I had been through several villages, Horningsea, Lode, Stow Cum Quy, Fen Ditton and my own village of Milton and all of them were just so breathtakingly beautiful. This is an absolutely splendid place to live.
I went through Fen Ditton but was really starting to suffer now. My legs were hurting and my drinking water was completely gone. However, there’s a house in Fen Ditton where they fly several different flags and often put out a sign saying what those flags are. They also have a water fountain on the roadside so I tried it out and found that beautiful clear cool water came from it that was just downright heavenly. Whoever is in that house, thank you thank you, thank you. You are doing a wonderful thing providing water to the desperate and needy such as myself. I ran on through the village and then down to the river. I crossed over the River Cam at Baits Bite Lock and then back through Milton. I’d done 25 kilometres but was completely exhausted. Still, it gives me great confidence that I am on track to run my first marathon next year.

A delightful run that I can heartily recommend. If anyone wants to try and recreate it for themselves then they could try following my route on Strava

I’ll also share two more photographs with you.
I think they were somewhere near Anglesey Abbey but I’m not sure.
One is what looks like a really imaginative allotment.
allotment
And the other is the lane that runs away from that allotment

passage