Week 3 - The Run-In

[Sweder]

Time of day: 17:30 hours
Course: Lewes/ Black Cap round trip – 5 miles
Duration: 44:47 (24:59)
Conditions: Blustery, fading light, muddy
Companions: 3 hounds
Soundtrack: Planet Rock – Jimmy Page; Tom Petty; Rolling Stones; ZZ Top

I decided to rest up following the 18 miler on Sunday, so no run on Monday. Despite some minor aches in my knees I felt pretty good this morning, and decided to get home in time for a dusk run to Black Cap.

Much-needed rain had fallen for most of the day. Along the ridge of the South Downs Way the track retained a good deal of rainwater, creating a tricky mixture of wet chalk, slippery flint and thick, clinging mud. Heaven!

I pushed hard on the outward leg, pumping warming blood into tired legs. My Sunday stiffness ebbed away as I climbed above the Town. By my reckoning I had around one hour to get home, although the hastily gathering clouds suggested this may be optimistic. Black Cap (half way) in 25 minutes; I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I had purposely worked harder than usual on the climb, only to beat my previous best by a meagre 30 seconds.

A minute’s pause to survey the rapidly fading vista – and off down the lush turf that carpets the south west face of the Cap. Willow appeared at my heels, carefully carrying an eviscerated rabbit’s carcass. She seemed delighted to have unearthed a new companion – she has several soft toys at home which take regular, fearsome batterings. I ignored her offers to play, preferring to focus on the music served up by Planet Rock.

After the demise of Led Zeppelin as an ensemble, Jimmy Page continued on a solo career, yielding variations on some of the bands’ classics. As I hurtled down the springy hillside towards the chalk track his live rendition of Cashmere built beautifully through my headphones. The rhythm of the drums offset the ethereal ‘reading’ of the lyric, Page’s violin providing an atmospheric substitute for Plant’s original honeyed tones.

In the gathering gloom and with this surreal soundtrack I relaxed into a trance-like pace, skipping lightly across the treacherous terrain toward the racing stables. The horizon to my right (east) boasted a fluorescent orange-red border, accentuated by the thick dark clouds, as the sun bid its farewell to the downland. Light spots of rain reminded me that these clouds had relatives overhead, and my pace increased further. One thing’s for sure, I thought: this hamstring is healed.

My band of homeward-bound hounds swarmed over/ under/ through the gate into the last sheep field. I turned to join them, the heavy latch clicking shut behind me, as the opening bars of Tom Petty’s Running Down a Dream wrangled my ears. Perfect! There is no finer or more apt song for hurtling headlong through this final quarter mile. I relaxed into my running, arms rocking in time with my pounding legs; I was flying! I really can’t remember running this fast at any stage other than in my track sessions earlier in the year. I felt strong, swift, energised. I’m sure my mind is playing tricks now, but I’d swear the dogs struggled to keep up.

We crashed through the front gate as one as I fought to bring my water carrier around front, grab my mobile and halt the stopwatch: 44:47. Bloody hell – 44:47? That can’t be – I mean I was flying back there! The figures don’t lie. OK it’s a best time for this run, but by no more than 40 seconds.

On reflection, more conscious effort does not necessarily equal better times. I learned this on the track; I could hammer 200 metres at full pelt in 36 seconds. The next series I’d run a ‘relaxed’ 200 – ‘sitting back’ and deliberately not pushing at all – in 38 seconds.

More recently I’ve run a couple of half marathons under threat of injury. My approach in each case has been cautious, yet my finishing times have been within a few seconds of a PB. Food for though here, certainly.

Coming up:
Friday: The good Good Friday Friday run with the Jog Shop crew
Sunday: 20 mile offroader – a real tough cookie. Can’t wait.