SportsShoes Blog

Sorry it’s been a while since my last post but as I said I needed to get back to basics and try and regenerate.

Following my Wasdale disaster I had almost a full week off - it took me until Friday following before I could walk down the stairs properly. I then started to put together a solid period of training and feel that I’m just starting to get back into shape but feel there’s still a way to go.

I’ve been running every day now for the last couple of weeks and done a few twice a day sessions. I also did a 2 hour run over Ilkley moor the weekend before last and a 2 hour 48 min run up Pen-y-Ghent and Ingleborough last weekend in filthy weather.

I’ve also started to put more effort in to my morning sessions by running up Hope Hill near my home each day that I’m not training in the evenings (Monday, Wednesday, Friday).

Having said all this I’ve still got a tight right Hamstring and really need to try and get this fixed over the next week as it’s Sedbergh Hills race next weekend.

This will be my first race back after Wasdale and will be a good test to see if my recovery is going in the right direction. It’s 14 miles and 6000 feet so no push over and if the mist is down it can throw up a few nav issues.

Shortly after that we’ll be heading North for the Ben Nevis race so I really need to get some altitude in my legs. There’s no race in the calendar that will show up a lack of fitness more than ’the Ben’ - 1 mile flat 4 miles up 4 miles down 1 mile flat - simples.

The other big news of the last few weeks is that I’ve been asked (and agreed) to take over the role of Junior Fell Manager at Bingley Harriers. I’m really excited about this and see it as a great opportunity to  bring more kids into the sport I love and put more blue and white hoops out on the fells.

This weekend I’m planning a long run on Sunday to continue building  my stamina then next week I’ll run each day but only nice and steady leading up to Sedbergh.

But first to bed - I’m feeling a bit tired after all my early mornings and I’ve no need to spring out of bed tomorrow so might allow myself a lie in ’til 8!!

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear - what a shocker of a race I had last weekend.

With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps I’d have been better giving this one a swerve but, as I’d already pre-entered, the Yorkshireman in me made me travel up to Wasdale to take on the infamous Wasdale Horseshoe Fell race.

At 21 miles and 9000ft of climb (& descent!!) Wasdale is regarded as THE hardest race in the fell running calendar.

The route starts at the National Trust campsite at the head of Wast Water and goes over Whinn Rigg, Seatallen, Pillar and Great Gable before finishing with a  quick trip up and down England’s highest mountain Scafell Pike. The last mile is an absolute killer with a suicidal descent down the nose of Lingmell back to the campsite.

As we trundled up to Wasdale the night before the race, it dawned on me that as I’d spent any recent free time of reasonable length putting miles in on my bike in preparation for the Marmotte (see earlier post), the longest run I’d done since the 3 Peaks in April was a measly 1 hour 20 mins!!! Here I was about to take on a 5 hour trek around England’s biggest mountains - not perhaps the wisest thing to do….

Despite forecasts to the contrary, Saturday dawned bright and sunny and rather than worrying about being hammered by rain or blown off a ridge by a gale force wind, we were all more concerened about sunburn and dehydration.

We set off at 11.00am and the first climb up Whinn Rigg is steady but immediate as it starts to rise right from the start field. I didn’t feel too bad up this first climb and kept in touch with my mates Andy Jebb and Paul Mitchell as we dibbed the first checkpoint. From here it’s a very steep drop back down into the valley bottom and as I hit the valley and started my way across to Seatallen I already knew I was in for a tough day - my legs felt heavy and I was already very hot.

I took on some water at the road crossing and popped a Nuun tablet into my bottle - it’s the first time I’ve used these little fizzy fellows and I must say I was mighty impressed - they certainly earled their place on some more adventures - check em out at http://www.nuun.com/.

The climb up Seatallen is a real grueler and when I reached the top it took a lot of effort to squeeze out a feeble ‘thanks for marshalling’ to the chap with the dibber.

The next section of the race is real lakeland ‘eye-candy’ and the weather on the day made it a truly special view across Scoat Fell and on to Pillar standing majestically in the distance. Unfortunately I was now in deep trouble, with only two checkpoints in the bag and the real serious climbing ahead I’d blown. As I staggered across to Pillar, on a track that’s a runner’s dream on fresh legs, I had to stop at any sign of water to rinse my face and soak my trusty Buff that was draped down my neck in pirate fashion.

I tried to take on a Zipvit energy gel but it was way too caffeinated and thick and wouldn’t go down. By this time the DNF devil was already knocking at my shoulder and I was trying my best to ignore him and enjoy the view. This was my first race as a Vet 40 and although I’d already given up any hope of a decent time or position, I didn’t want to mark my passage in to seniority by packing.

I pushed on up Pillar and managed to get a good line round to Wind Gap which cheered me a up a bit as I’d missed it last time I did the race in 2005. By now folk were coming past me in droves and I was already starting to see faces of runners that I usually beat by miles in events like this - with two big mountains to go this was going to be a huge test of will power and stamina….

I came off Pillar and looked seriously at Black Sail pass disappearing off to my right which offered an easy passage back down to Wasdale head, the camper van, cold drinks, real food and a pub. The words of my old pal Ady Netherwood were ringing in my ears “I haven’t got a pack in me…” and thinking about how much better the beer would taste that night if I actually managed to finish, I pressed on towards Great Gable.

The Gable climb on the Wasdale race is a beast - straight up the back - getting steeper and more technical as it climbs, to the point where you have to pick your line carefully and scramble using four points of contact over the summit boulders to the checkpoint. Here a kindly marshal took pity on my sunken eyes, drooped shoulders and wobbly legs and gave me a sweet - a little jelly man. This kind gesture picked me up far more than the few milligrams of sugar that I sucked out of my little gelatine friend and I stumbled down to Sty Head where I knew my mates mum and dad would be with a drink. As I approached Anne she held out a bottle of juice and asked if I was having a bad day. This was not a real question that needed an answer but a kind of acknowledgement of my suffering and in a strange way it made me feel a little better as I knew that she knew I was well out of position and that I was on a personal crusade just to finish - as I passed Pete he commented that there was just one little climb to go - we smirked at each other both knowing full well that this ‘last little last climb’ was up the path to the highest point in England!!!

As I set off up to Esk Hause I knew I was beaten but also that I’d finish as once you’re passed Sty Head there is no other escape routes.

The rest of the race was nothing more than a trudge interspersed with a few feeble jogs and as I neared the summit my good old pal Dave Stephenson caught me - ‘Hi Andy - have you blown?’ - ‘Back on Whinn Rigg!!’ was my reply. Dave looked strong and after forcing me to take one of his gels (his SIS-Go gel tasted much better) he romped off into the distance leaving me staggering like a wounded soldier up to the summit.

I dibbed at the top, thanking the marshal but completely blanking the dozens of other folk up there, most of whom I guess were on their second peak of a National 3 peaks 24 hour challenge, and headed off down to the finish.

There’s a famous saying that suggests that a mountain has not been conquored until you’ve been to the top AND back down again and I was now starting to think of what lay ahead. The descent off the Pike is possibly harder than the ascent as it’s very technical at the top, then it gets steeper towards the bottom and just as your quads start to shout for mercy there’s a 1 mile plunge down Lingmell on a steep loose track.

At points I was reduced to walking backwards down here as my quads had gone on strike but eventually I reached the finish, dibbed and went to find a place to rest. I was VERY grateful that none of my pals were there to greet me as I was in no mood for chatting. I literraly flopped down in the grass with my back against a fence and sat, and sat and sat.

Shortly after my mate Steve Fry finished (Steve had been for a 10 mile run the night before and then jogged the course slow and steady as a training run for his forthcoming Lakeland 100 race) and as always he was so full of words that lots of them were falling out of his mouth. By this time I was once again ready to accept guests and his chipper manner brought me round a tad. We traded our race numbers for some ’stew’, which one runner suggested had been made using cigars instead of meat, and after a couple of cups of tea I started to come round a bit.

A quick shower and a change of duds and off we went to the pub for a proper meal and some ‘rehydration’.

All in all a hard day in the hills which again was an exercise in perseverance and determination but, all things considered it was a great event and another weekend of experiences to add to the ‘we’ll laugh about that one day’ drawer (which is getting rather full…!!)

Now, as Doctor Who says - I think it’s time to Regenerate…….

I did it - but not easily!!!

If I learnt one thing on Saturday it’s that I’m a far better runner than I am a cyclist.

5 weekend warriors who think a 2 hour mountain bike ride is a big day out turned up in Borg D’Oisans in the French Alps and lined up alongside 7000 other Marmottiers most of whom were seasoned vetrans of long distance cycling - and we got our butts well and truly kicked by the course and most of the opposition. That said we all got round and survived to tell the tale which, to be honest, I think is a real result when I consider how much training we didn’t do and just how hard the course actually is.

We were camping right at the foot of the famous Alpe D’Huez climb which was to be the last climb of the day in the race so on the Friday before the event we jumped on our bikes and set off up the hill for a quick recce. Even with fresh legs we quickly realised what we’d let ourselves in for and decided at turn 18 to only ride up to turn 10 (of 21) before heading back in to Borg and a cafe.

For the race itself we were thankfully blessed with fantastic weather meaning that even if we died on the course our parting shot of the world would be one of  Alpine mountains bathed in sunlight….

Off we went along with the other 6000+ starters at 7.30 am and managed to enjoy the first 10-15k or so as we cruised along the flat towards the first climb of the day - Glandon. Here I learned a lesson that will stick with me forever - NEVER underestimate a climb based purely on its gradient. Long climbs are simply not something we have here in the UK so most of our climbing tends to be short and steep. As such, when you’ve conquored a 25% lakeland climb one can easily fall into the trap of thinking that a 10-12% climb should be a piece of cake…..WRONG….. The difference is that the lakeland climb, whilst being stupidly steep, will be all over and done with in 10 mins as it probably stretches between 0.5 and 1 mile in length - in France the 10% climbs can go on for 20 miles - NON-STOP. You really do start to think ‘is this ever going to end???’

At the top of the Glandon we regrouped and fed and watered ourselves before chucking ourselves off the other side of the col. At the top and a little way down the hill there were marshals waiving orange flags and shouting things in French that I didn’t understand. After a few minutes it became clear what the fuss was about as there were a number of fairly serious crashes with bikes and bodies laid around in increasingly sorry looking states. Seeing this does tend to make you ride a little more cautiously but the descents are so long and steep that going slow is almost impossible - you really have to keep your wits about you and hold a rock steady line in the bends to avoid hitting or being hit by other riders.

After Glandon we picked our way through towns, villages and a main road to reach the foot of the the Telegraphe / Galibier. Here we saw a sign saying that col Galibier was 35km away (almost all up hill!!!).

I climbed the Telegraph slowly but steadily passing lots and being passed by only a few and at the top grabbed a qucik fill of the bottles before hurtling down to the foot of Galibier with 2 of my pals. Here was another food station and although we waited  quite a while for the others to catch up, I don’t think I took on enough calories.

The next climb up Galibier is the longest of the day and to make it even more fun it gets steeper as you near the top. It’s also one of those famous Alpine climbs that weaves in a series of switchbacks up the hill and from certain points down below you can almost see to the top. A quick look up to the right can seriously damage your mental well being if you’re not careful as you’ll see riders hundreds of vertical feet above you grinding away still with miles of climbing to go themselves. I found the best trick was simply not to look where I was going but just concentrate on where I was and where I’d been. Just like looking up can shatter your confidence, looking down on riders far below can also give you a mental boost. 

Eventually I reached the snow patched summit and met my two pals Pete and Rich - we donned our windproof jackets and set off on the 35km descent towards Borg and the dreaded Alpe D’Huez.

Despite feeling strong on the climb, instead of enjoying the descent I almost immediately began to feel dreadful with stomach cramps and I realised I was in for a tough time. When I reached the bottom of the descent I took off my jacket and had to go and find a loo. Although this brought a little releif, I felt physically weakened which was odd as this was by far the easiest part of the course and it should have been a blast.

I cruised along to the final feed station at the foot of the Alpe and took on some coca-cola and a gel. The 3 of us then set off to attack the Alpe.

As I started the climb I didn’t feel too bad and even thought about trying to climb it without resorting to my lowest gear which I’d managed not to use so far in the day. That thought was quickly dashed and by turn 18 I was spinning away in my 34-25 gear and wishing I had a lower one!!

I climbed on and up to turn 10 where we’d been the day before but this time with a hundred miles of hard climbing already in my legs it felt much steeper and longer than it had previously.

At turn 10 I hit the wall - not literally but physically and psychologically my wheels had come off. The temperature was 36 degrees and there’s very little shade on the climb. I battled on to turn 8 but here I had to give in and have a rest. The remainder of the climb was pure torture and the km markers that start at 10km from the finish seemed to pass by at an alarmingly slow pace.

I finally dragged my sorry soul across the line over 10 hours after starting out and could do nothing else but lay the bike down and drop to the ground for a well earned rest.

Once we’d all arrived we whizzed back down the Alpe to the campsite, had a quick shower and headed in to Borg for a few beers and believe it or not a Kebab. I know these aren’t good for you but as I’d burnt off 9438 calories during the day I think the couple of thousand that were in the Kebab just fell into a gaping void in my stomach.

Looking back on the weekend I think it was fantastic - we all achieved what we’d set out to achieve and conquored one of the toughest one day cycling events in the world. I personally realised just how fit and fast pro cyclists are and learned that whilst a fit person may be able to finish, to do the event in a decent time means many, many hours of bike specific training.

Would I do it again - course I would and next time I’m going to wheelie all the way up Alpe D’Huez whistling On Ilkey Moor Baht’at as I go……

Well here goes, my first ever blog entry!

I’m sat in yet another hotel room in Cardiff getting ready to compete tomorrow night in the Super 8 meeting. I’ve just returned back from Poland where I competed in the 1500m at the 55th Janusz Kusocinski Memorial meeting and ran a lifetime best of 4.05.06 , the World Champs A Qualifying time! Woo Hoo, I knocked nearly 3 secs off! What a relief. Feels great to have the qualifying time in the bag and all I need to concentrate on now is getting in that top 3 at the trials in July and I’m on the plane to Berlin!

I was in the SportsShoes shop just before I left for Poland and purchased the Skins half shorts and I love them! Felt great to race in! I also got a new pair of the Saucony Triumphs, which I also love! The cushioing is just the best. I raced in the Saucony Endorphin MD spikes and they are fast! Really get you up on your toes and also have great cushioning.

Ok, well I’ll be on again soon to let you know how I go in the Super 8 meet. Look out for me on Sky Sports 2 Friday night showing the highlights! I’m the one who will hopefully be winning with the big curly hair!

Charlene x

Tomorrow it’s the Millennium Way Relay - a 50 mile off road route that goes from Bingley over Oxenhope, Oakworth, Laycock, Steeton, Silsden, Addingham, Ilkley, Baildon and back to Bingley.

The course is split into 5 legs and each leg is completed by 2 runners.

I’m running leg 2 for Bingley with my mate Jamie Robinson. We have a reasonably strong team in the event this year so I hope I can do OK but I’m a little worried as Jamie is running much better than me right now so I think he’s going to run me into the ground (he’s looking forward to it as I killed him in the Calderdale Way relay a couple of years ago).

Our leg is 10 miles long and goes from Marsh near Oxenhope over Bronte Bridge then out to Laycock via Oakworth and Goose Eye. It’s a real up and down affair and the finish is truly awful as it’s a quarter mile of very steep tarmac hell to the handover so everyone will see us (well me at least) at our very worst as we cross the line and pass the baton to our leg 3 team mates.

Jamie and I recced it a couple of weeks ago and it was very wet. It should have dried out a bit now but I think I’ll still use my inov8 X-talons.

This week in prep, I’ve done very little just my 20 min runs in the morning and a 3 mile race (very low tempo) with my kids on Tuesday night. Then a steady hour on the road bike today.

I’ll be back soon to let you know how we got on……..

Last week and into this I’ve had the longest break from action for as long as I can remember. I did a whole 8 days, Tuesday to Tuesday, without running or biking - I did however have a bit of a swim in the Med but it wasn’t exactly serious as me and my boys had a ’silliest entry’ competition which I reckon I won with my ‘front somersault butt splash’.

I thought the break might have done me good but when I got back and tried to train I felt like a lead weight rather than a springy fully rested athlete. I’m not convinced munching pizzas and guzzling beer while sitting on the balcony watching the world go by is what you’d class as quality training. Oh well, at least I only do it for a week - some folks live their whole lives like that.

Anyway it’s back to business now and after cycling to work on Wednesday I ran with my dog Thursday morning then did a hard run Thursday night with the guys at Bingley Harriers. As is always the case - on the night when I’d have settled for a steady hour, Robin (a close friend of mine who is a fantastic athlete and far quicker than me) was up for a blast. He took four of us on a hilly off road 10 miler around Bingley and St Ives and I was definitely the wooden leg of the team hanging on to the back of the bunch with my tongue trailing on the ground.

Friday morning my legs felt as stiff as a very stiff board but I still managed to hobble my way around my dog jog which I think helped the recovery process.

This morning, despite the lovely British summer weather (cold, rain and wind) I did what the Tri freternity call a BRICK or a ‘bike run session’. Not really sure why they call it a brick - perhaps triathletes aren’t too great at spelling (maybe I’m perfectly suited to the sport….!!).

I did 1 hour on the bike at reasonable intensity then jumped off, stripped off a couple of layers, put on my trainers and shackled the dog before heading out for a quick 20 min run through the woods.

I’m starting to use my HRM a bit more now and today’s sesh used 1300 Cals of energy over 1 hr 20 mins with an average of 153 (85%) and a max 0f 172 (96%). I’m not entirely sure what to do with the data yet but everyone seems to swear by heart rate training so I think I’ll give it another try.

Just 4 weeks to La Marmotte in the Alps so I need to try and get some more long bike rides in but next weekend it’s the Millennium way realy where I’m running leg 2 for Bingley with my pal Jamie so my biking might get curtailed.

Tonight we’re off to a 70’s Fancy Dress Disco - photo to follow…..

Now if you’ve read my earlier postings you’ll know that a) I have an ambition to do an Ironman and b) I’ve recently entered the Ilkley Triathlon.

Now the Ilkley race is to the Ironman what  a walk in the park is to the Ultratrail Tour Du Mont Blanc. The run for example is just 3 miles compared to the full marathon and the bike is a 10 mile sprint rather than a 112 mile slog but here’s my real problem - the Ilkley swim is just 500 meters (in a nice clean, warm pool) compared to the 2.4 mile swim in icy open water - sounds easy doesn’t it. Well yes - until you try.

I took my kids to the pool today and thought I’d have a bash at this swimming lark - how hard can 500 meters be I thought - after all I got my 1500 meters badge when I was at middle school - and there my friends is my problem, whilst I can still swim (they say it’s like riding a bike or falling off a log or something) it’s yonks since I’ve tried to actually keep going for a distance of more than around 10 yards…

I think the Ilkley pool is 25 meters so through the application of some complex mathematics I reckon I’m going to have to do 20 lengths - 20 lenghths!!! - I was blowing after 20 flailing strokes of my arms today. Suddenly 500 meters seems a very long way…..

Oh well, as you know I like a challenge so I’m determined to stick at it and turn myself in to Bingley’s answer to the ‘Thorpedo’ over the next few months.

I did it I - conquored the Fred - I managed to ride the whole thing from start to finish - and quite a challenge it was too.

Here’s my story.

After rising at 4am scoffing a big bowl of porridge and a banana and driving up to Coniston in the lakes we found ourselves at the start line of the Fred at 7.30am. A qucik ‘dib’ of the electronic timer and we were off. As a sportive event, rather than a pure race, it’s not a mass start. You can set off whenever you like between 6am and 9am and through the magic of modern day timing devices your split and finish times are recorded as you go.

I think I’d sort of mentally blocked out the whole idea of riding so far - basically because I’d never done it previously and I was a tad scared of how I’d get on. I’d also not taken much notice of the route or tried to work out where the climbs were and which bits might be easy. All I knew was that it was a long way (112 miles) with a lot of very steep climbs.

As we cruised along over the first 10 miles or so I didn’t feel all that great and as my pals were all chatting away and obviously enjoying the experience I was keeping quiet and avoiding doing too much work by soft tapping or drafting behind other riders.

As we neared the summit of the first big climb (Kirkstone pass) I started to feel a bit better and enjoyed the run down the otherside - which nearly ended in a big crash for my mate Pete whose bike started to ’shake its head’ violently on the steep descent after getting thrown off line by a manhole cover.

I got dropped on the main road to Keswick as my running legs just couldn’t hold the pace of the fitter and faster roadies but thankfully my mates had waited for me in town and we all set off together down Borrowdale.

As we trundled along Derwent water I started to feel very jaded again and the thought of the first really steep climb (Honister) was preying on my mind. I let my friends go as we entered Seatoller at the foot of the climb and nipped to the loo for a much needed ‘rest’.

After this I climbed Honister without too much trouble and zoomed down the otherside to meet the gang at the first food stop at the Buttermere youth hostel.

A good feed and a drink did the trick and I felt pretty good as we climbed the long drag of Newlands pass but on the rolling roads at the other side I lost touch with the team again and this time decided to just let them ago and ride this thing at my pace - they were all riding stronger than me, I wasn’t feeling too great and I knew if I tried to keep up with them I’d just slow them down and probably blow-up in the process.

After meeting the guys at the summit of Whinlatter we all set off on the long run round to the second feed stop at Calder Bridge via Ennerdale. When I got to the stop my mates were fed and watered and ready to leave so I insisted that they went without me. I filled my bottles, grabbed a tuna sarnie and a piece of flapjack and set off down the road munching as I went.

In a perverse way I was actually looking forward to the last 20 mile section which is by far the hardest stretch of the whole ride. After a quick ride down the valley the climb of Hardknott pass finally comes into view and what a beast it is. From the valley bottom you can see road weaving up into the clouds with an army of ant like cyclists pushing and honking their way up to the summit. At the foot of the climb is a large warning sign advising of severe gradients and a statement saying ‘unsuitable for cycles’ - here we go!!

With dogged determination and lots of under the breath swearing I managed to haul my sorry butt to the top of the climb passing dozens of walking / hobbling cyclists (and a few cars!!) en-route. After the climb comes a seriously steep descent followed by an undulating road of about 4 miles before the last real climb of the day appears. This one (Wrynose) is just as steep as Hardknott but thankfully not as long and as I topped out I knew there was only about 6 miles of the 112 left to go and much of it was down hill. The problem was that it had now started to rain / hail quite badly and it was VERY cold. The descent off Wrynose is stupidly steep and with the water and, believe it or not, snow that was on the road it was quite a challenge to stay upright.

When I got to a marshalled road crossing I asked how far it was to the finish - ‘only about 10 minutes’ was the reply - welcome words I can tell you.

The final couple of miles whizzed by and soon I was dibbing at the finish having completed  one of the toughest day rides in the country.

There were times on the way round when I started to think - ‘why am I doing this’ and ‘never again’ but I’ve done plenty of these endurance type events now and even in these dark times, I knew that come Monday I’d be plotting how I could do things differently next time (and I was…)

For the record I did the 112 mile course in a very average time of 7h 48 mins (which is actually classed as a ‘1st class’ time for this event), my average heart rate was 154 BPM (85%), my max was 179 BPM (99%) and (according to my Polar) I burned 7954 calories over the course of the day.

No wonder I enjoyed my extra large Pepperoni deep pan pizza when I got home!!!

Now I know what a long ride is like I need to get some serious training in for La Marmotte in July.

This weekend it’s the Fred Whitton Bike Sportive event which I’m doing for the first time.

To be honest I’m a tad nervous about it as I’ve never done anything like this before and it’s a bit of beast.

The Fred, as it’s affectionately known, is 112 miles of hill climbing torture around the lake district taking in all the famous road passes and including the two steepest ones, Hard Knott and Wrynose, which are both graded at 30% in the last 20 miles….. aaaarrrggghhhh!

I don’t think I’ve got enough bike miles in my legs to really do it justice but I’ll get my old dogged determined race head on and tough it out.

There’s 6 of us going to do it and we’re meeting another 6 or 7 chaps up there so we should have a peleton of around 12-13 riders minimum which certainly makes riding easier.

I’m going to use my cyclocross bike as I think I’ll be needing my softies gears (36-32) by the end and I really don’t want to walk - apparently only around 5% of entrants manage to ride the whole course!!

Just to add to my woes it now looks like it might chuck it down with rain this weekend which I’m sure will make 112 miles in the saddle a real pleasure….

Yesterday I ran in the Baildon Boundary Way (BBW). It was the third time I’d done this race and although the last time was in 2005 I know every step of the course as it passes within 3oo yards of my house and I train over parts of it  just about every day.

The BBW is a half marathon (13.1 miles) but it’s what’s known as a multi terrain race as only about 5% of it is on road. The rest is tracks, woods, canal towpath and a bit of open moorland. Although there are a few climbs it is generally a quick course being good underfoot all the way round.

As I said in my earlier post my aim for the day was to get under 1 hour 30 mins which I’ve never managed to do before so when the day dawned bright and sunny with light winds I knew this was my chance.

About 400 runners started the race and the mad up hill dash followed by a quick sprint down to the main road and along to the Woolpack pub at Esholt quickly strung the field out. I passed the first mile marker in 5.39 which I knew was a pace I couldn’t hold for long but as I felt good I carried on pushing hard.

After a tour of the sewage farm (nice….) and a trip through the woods we popped out onto the canal which is always a part of the race I find tough. This year me and a chap from Pudsey & Bramley paced each other well along the 3 miles to Saltaire and we managed to hold our positions (5th and 6th), which was a first for  me as the roadies usually come steaming by at this point.

After leaving the canal it’s a long but steady climb of maybe 2 miles through Shipley Glen woods and up to Harvey Smith’s gallops.

On the final part of the climb my Bingley Harriers pal Mitch came past me and he and Shane from P&B pulled out a lead of about 15 meters on me by the top of the climb.

As we started the long fast descent to the finish Shane pulled clear and I worked hard to get back on terms with Mitch. We passed the 12 mile marker and as I sneaked a look at my watch and saw 1hr 16 I knew I’d be well under my target of 1.30 - but the race wasn’t over yet.

Just half a mile before the finish there’s a short but steep climb and I really had to dig deep to stay with Mitch (what I didn’t know until later was that he was hurting just as much, if not more than me). At the top of the climb we were both caught and passed by a Sheffiled runner and the three of us started the run in to the finish.

This put me in 8th place which was a position I’d have happily settled for at the start of the race but as we charged down towards the rugby field I found an extra ounce of energy and sprinted passed them both before we hit the track that leads to the finish. From here it was just a case of gritting my teeth, keeping my elbows out and holding them off as we crossed the field to the finish funnel - a quick look back assured me they wouldn’t catch me but as I approached the finish line I couldn’t help thinking about that poor horse that collapsed and died on the run-in at the National. Thankfully I didn’t do the same but my efforts meant I had to stop and catch my breath as the other guys came in and the marshals tried to push us along the finish funnel.

I was really please with my 6th place and time of 1 hour 24 mins - Job done!!

A great race - very well organised by the guys and gals at Baildon Runners and well supported by Sportsshoes Unlimited who, along with the Saltaire Brewery, supplied the prizes and goody bags.