August 2010

[Sweder]

Pilgrims Way 10K 14th August 2010

It seemed fitting that my first race since the end of April should coincide with the opening day the 2010/ 11 Premiership season. Like many of the players on show today I was keen as mustard but lacking match fitness. This was the second running of the Hard As Snails (my first), a rollercoaster run through the leafy Surrey hills of the North Downs along a section of the celebrated Pilgrims Way. This is Niguel Country. He’d dropped me a line a week ago suggesting this race might be right up my alley and he was right; I loved it.

The call to start in a sandy car park tucked away on the edge of the forest included perhaps the best safety briefing I’ve heard (below). As the bullhorn faded I picked up on the social apsect of these occasions, a chap from the North East exchanging contact details with a girl from South Africa. Love was in the air as we gathered under cold grey skies, the prospect of imminent drizzle not altogether unpleasant. I tried to put my ‘training run’ head on, yet at the off I was swept up in the mad, helter-skelter dash up the first series of hills. ‘Here we go’ I thought as I clawed for air in the melee. ‘Balls out, lung-busting sodding 10ks ...’



The hills held few surprises for me, save one; the soft sandy trail floor. Perhaps Niguel can explain why there’s so much of the stuff in this neck of the woods. Suffice to say running up steep climbs on damp, yielding soil is akin to charging up steep pebbled beaches. Wheelspin was an issue but my legs handled it all pretty well. My lungs, on the other hand, are still a work in progress. On the few occasions I felt compelled to walk – one particularly unkind incline saw all but the hardiest trudging, heads down, arms pumping like sleep-walking Nordic Trackers - lack of oxygen was the cause.

The route took us through deliciously cool woodland, occasionally spitting us out into open fields. Just across Halfpenny Lane we reached a beautiful church where a bemused collie peeped over the stone wall, tongue lolling, to watch the procession of human madness pound past. Next up we crested the lip of an impressive escarpment overlooking the Surrey valley towards Albury. It felt like the edge of the world as I reached for my phone camera. Alas we turned sharp left into another long, sandy drop into the forest before I could capture the scene. I did manage to (inadvertently) snatch a second or two of video. I’ll try to post it (somewhere).

One area of the race where I felt I held an advantage was on the perilous drops. Most racers took a circumspect view, careful to avoid slippery tree roots and treacherous shifting soil. Not I. I bounded down the winding descents, a demented Sasquatch hurtling past no end of fitter, saner runners, whooping silently as my legs tried to keep up with gravity-fuelled momentum. The final drop to the finish, a two hundred metre plummet out of the woods into an open area adorned with an inflatable blue arch, gained me around ten places. Thank you Moylman: you taught me how to do that.

I stopped my watch at 54:23. I’m very happy with that. My only goal was to break the hour and even that hadn’t occurred to me until the 8 kilometre marker when I thought I’d be close to it. I heartily recommend this friendly race with its convivial hosts, worthy cause (Surrey Wildlife Trust) and stunning views.