February 2016

[Sweder]

At last, a proper return to the hills. After a week traveling (Geneva and London) for endless rounds of planning meetings I finally broke the shackles this lunchtime, racing home to throw on the gear and get out there. What a day for it!

Watery late winter sun, raucous Rooks cawing out their haughty critique, gloriously tacky mud, sponge-soft to embrace my weary feet. I battled into a strong headwind all the way up, head tucked in, body hunched over, stride shortened and arms pumping. I gritted my teeth and sucked it up, keeping an eye on the summit.

   

At the top I paused, the dogs panting alongside, all three of us catching our breath. I scanned the horizon, snapping a panoramic view of the Moyleman hills, enjoying the sunshine. On the plummet home I took careful note of the terrain, lapping up the delicious turf. It felt so, so GOOD to be out there! It felt like a return to running, as if these past weeks on the tarmac and cobbles has been nothing more than marking time. 

It's been more than that. I fair flew home, breeze at my back, dogs struggling to keep up, mostly due to their own lack of recent mileage. 8.37 kms in 54.09, a good 5 minutes faster than last time and something approaching my old standard. Average pace: 6.28 per kilometre, a personal record according to Runkeeper, which I find about as trustworthy as David Cameron trapped in a one-to-one interview on the BBC. 

Still, all that aside, my body tells me that was a good outing. Moyleman meeting tonight, Pre-twittens and Twittens on Sunday. If Mrs S fancies a Parkrun on Saturday we'll lob one of those in as well. 

On, on.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Good work Sweder. Looking forward to getting back there for a run amongst the mud myself someday.

[Charliecat5]

Moyleman meeting tonight, Pre-twittens and Twittens on Sunday. If Mrs S fancies a Parkrun on Saturday we'll lob one of those in as well. 

On, on.

Talking of Pre-twittens... I have an idea... but we may have to meet at 8am to fit it in.

[Sweder]

OK

[Bierzo Baggie]

At the top I paused, the dogs panting alongside, all three of us catching our breath. I scanned the horizon, snapping a panoramic view of the Moyleman hills, enjoying the sunshine. On the plummet home I took careful note of the terrain, lapping up the delicious turf. It felt so, so GOOD to be out there! It felt like a return to running, as if these past weeks on the tarmac and cobbles has been nothing more than marking time. 

And it certainly sounds good to be out there! 
Nice one!

[Sweder]

ParkRun Heaven - Bevendean #1

A new ParkRun to enjoy this morning. It's the closest one to Lewes, it's really hilly and it's all offroad. Hurrah!
My day started with the eye-stinging waft of loose dog's bottom in my nostrils. Such a contrast with last night. Mrs S and I nipped up to the Smoke to watch my youngest perform at the LSCD. And what a stunning piece it was. 

'Anya' features the eponimous Swede, now in her 90's, telling us how all she has left are her memories. These are gathered about her in the form of dancers, each representing an aspect of her life. Here is her father, a renowned Nuclear physicist; here is Anya as a young woman, here as a mother, here again as a student, protesting, ironically, at Greenham Common. The story was crafted with care, laced with humour and pathos. Anya narrated as she danced, her 'memories' coming to the fore to argue a detail or enhance the tale. It was moving and beautiful.

Whilst we were enjoying this heart-warming spectacle, my cantankerous old bat of a mother-in-law was back in Sussex, feeding my dogs all manner of gut-wrenching tidbits. As a result I was greeted this morning by an ocean of effluent. Not quite the pre-run stretch routine I'd planned.

I rocked up at Parkrun ten minutes before the off, greeted on arrival by Tom Roper, Camilla (Moylebird), God-botherer Rog and Me Julie (Ladyrunner). What a fine body we made. Less than 200 souls set off, a strong breeze racing up the hill to push us up the first long climb. The ground was tacky and soft, just how I like it. Around two hundred metres in, I was greeted by something else tacky and soft, something most unwelcome and, given my rather unpleasant start, in keeping with my day. Nature wasn't so much calling as raiding my body with a S.W.A.T. team. My stomach contracted to the size of a golf ball and I was forced to shorten my stride and deploy emergency muscles. 

Christ! It's only a 5k, you can hold this - no, no, you can't. Bloody hell.
I spied a sharp turn at the top of the hill where an affable marshal gently waived the runners around the bend.
- Excuse me, marshal, I'm going to have to leave the course for a moment.
As luck would have it a lone but substantial tree lurked a few metres away. I minced over and positioned myself strategically out of site from the runners piling up the hill.

Minutes later, a relived man, I rejoined the throng, by now firmly at the back. There was no point in pushing too hard so I set a steady pace and started reeling in back-markers. Just after passing a lady with 'ON ON' plastered on her bottom, I joined Tom.
- Hello! I thought you were ahead of me.
- Nature called, she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer

We loped on, completing two full laps of this hilltop course. I clocked 34.33 on Runkeeper, a time I will improve next week simply by showing up. I've just received my official Parkrun time of 31:21, so my time-keeping must be on the fritz. The post-run is hosted by the Bevy, 'Brighton's only community-owned estate pub', a down-hill stone's throw from the finish. I sat with Tom and Millie, chewing over Moyleman minutiae, sucking down a coffee as Millie got stuck into a 'Runner's Red', a fine concoction of carrot, beetroot and ginger blended into a tasty (honest) beverage.

I can see this being a regular Parkrun for me (I've signed up to marshal later this month). 
Hopefully the next outing will be sans pit-stop.

[The Beast of Bevendean]

A great day, and a pleasure to run with you. There are photographs on the Flickr group — rest assured that there are none of any human or canine gastrointestinal problems. And I wrote a modest account myself

[Sweder]

I honestly don't have the energy to punch out an account of this morning's madness. Happily my good friend* CharlieCat5 has already done so. Feel free to read all about that here. From my POV it was all about enacting some bizarre version of Riverdance, arms and legs going this way and that over five relentlessly gruelling miles.

*Psychopath

After the shock and awe subsided we started the Twitten run. Our number included such running luminaries as 5ussex Girl, Tom Roper, Arch Duncan and celebrated Oscars-snapper and ace Moyleman Tog James McCauley. OOTR is still nursing ailments so he took up position* in Ground Coffee, offering us advice and encouragement as we floundered past.

*slouched on a comfy seat

Somewhere around the 8th or 9th uphill sprint I realised I'd run out of gas. This probably came as some relief to those behind me. The last few climbs were completed on autopilot, rubber legs somehow hauling my carcass up the slopes. 5ussex Girl deserves a special mention for completing the jaunt dressed as a well-known Children's Charity Bear.  She did remarkably well, the hirsute suit offering much-needed warmth in the thin sunshine. 

I sugested she contact the Naked Runners. 'I didn't run naked, but I was a little bear'
It's OK, I've got me coat.

Photos below.

   

This is as much running as I've done in sequence since the knee op. Thursday, 5 hard miles in the hills, yesterday's 3 mile ParkRun and today's 9 miles or so. I'm shattered, of course, but a pub lunch at the freshly revamped Rainbow at Cooksbridge should restore me somewhat. 

February has started well.

[Sweder]

Damned with faint praise this morning:

Bevendean Down parkrun results for event #2. Your time was 00:29:52.

Congratulations on completing your 55th parkrun and your 2nd at Bevendean Down parkrun today. You finished in 18th place and were the 16th male out of a field of 32 parkrunners and you came 5th in your age category VM50-54. Take a look at this week's full set of results on our website. Congratulations on setting a new Personal Best at this event! Congratulations on your fastest time this year.

In truth, it was an ugly slog. I left the house late, having raided my office like a burglar on a mission, desperately searching for my Parkrun barcode card. Freezing rain lashed the windows as books and papers scattered here and there, reminding me to grab my Almeria silk gloves. I duly left these on the car seat as I scurried off to the start.

As I reached the course I saw the pack setting off from the start, some 200 metres away, heading towards me. I started Runkeeper and ran at them, passing the last runner and the trailing marshal before turning to chase them down. Hardly scientific, but close enough.

This week I managed to complete the course without taking a break, hunting down tail-enders, hailing familiar marshals (Cam at the top of the long hill, Rog, eagerly clutching his time-piece and shouting enouragement as we passed on our first circuit).

By the time I'd relaxed into my running it was all over. My finisher stats look terrific, until you realise this was as small a field as you're ever likely to see at a Parkrun. No doubt the weather had a big say in that - it was foul. Rain driven into your face by a bitterly cold wind as you slip-slid your way up the slimy hillside. I loved it. I loved the post-run coffee and super-healthy Runner's Red smoothie at the Bevy afterwards a good deal more.

There I sat and chatted with Tom and new acquaintance (and self-confessed Parkrun addict and Ulrasnista) @abradypus. Later, the shower worked it's magic, piping hot lashes bringing frozen limbs back to life.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Great work Sweder, but where's all this headed? What's next on the race horizon?

[Sweder]

Great work Sweder, but where's all this headed? What's next on the race horizon?

There are no targets set for this year, other than to enjoy running for its own sake.
As fitness emerges (and the weather improves) I hope to return to the hills and trails for some decent outings, to take in the wonder of my surroundings and to thank my lucky stars that I am able to do so.

[Bierzo Baggie]

Like the sound of these parkruns ..

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Great work Sweder, but where's all this headed? What's next on the race horizon?

There are no targets set for this year, other than to enjoy running for its own sake.
As fitness emerges (and the weather improves) I hope to return to the hills and trails for some decent outings, to take in the wonder of my surroundings and to thank my lucky stars that I am able to do so.

Hmm, sounds like there's a book in there, OM!

[Sweder]

Twitten Run XIII

A swift dash round the Twittens this morning. My legs felt tired after yesterday's slog and the past week's lurghie lingered, but I kept up, by and large. Our number was somewhat reduced by a few regulars being away. Just the four brave souls on a damp, bitterly cold morning, huffing and puffing up and down the narrow streets.

   

I do love these sessions, more so the post-run coffee and thawing chat. Today we learned about the wonders of G. V. Desani and his celebrated book, All About H. Hatterr (All About Mr. Hatterr in earlier editions). I offered tales of my trials on the 2010 Connemarathon. The coffee was delicious, the company delightful. Here's to next week.

[Antonio247]

Glad to see you wearing an Almería half marathon T-shirt in your home town, S. Almería's tourism department should put you on the payroll for the publicity you give.

I'm also glad you enjoyed the run and the post run activities. Next week, you'll feel better.

Saludos desde Almería

[Sweder]

Last night I got the Fever. That itch that needs scratching, the burning desire to run.

Sat in my office in Ditchling I watched a beautiful, clear day start the gentle descent into twilight. I pulled the plug, grabbed my gear and bid a hurried adieu to my colleagues. As I drove home I had one eye on the changeing skies. I should make it. Just ...

Twenty minutes later, home, changed, excited hounds harnessed, I was out the door, chasing the blood-orange sun as it sank behind the hills. MLCMMan recently wrote that, for him, there are no junk miles. I think he's right. At least, this modest trundle through the day's last gasp, with no target other than to be out there, felt anything but. 

As light leaked out of the sky, the distant Moyleman hills glowed purple, three-quarter moon beaming high in the darkening blue. I turned just shy of Blackcap, unsure if livestock lurked beyond the ridge. I hammered home at a decent clip, feet feeling their way as unseen mud sent them skittering this way and that. I held my body still, centred, ready to go whichever way the next lunge took me. It was exhilarating stuff, senses jangling, on high alert. I felt alive.

A shade over six kilometres. One of the best runs of recent times.

   

I followed up with a convivial pint or two with local celeb The Ale Lady. I'd promised to drop off a couple of cans of Roadie 'all night' IPA, a delicious little number from East London brew-house Signature. We sat and chatted like old mates (we'd met just the once before, my companion then dressed as Catwoman). Our main theme was writing and the selfish behaviour that comes with The Process. I was relieved to learn I'm not alone in growing two heads, ready to snarl at any interlopers who would break my concentration. 

Just before I left the pub, Tall Simon and Andrea arrived, 'fresh' from their Lewes AC track session. 1200 metres at 10k pace followed by 400 metre reps at 5k pace, rest, repeat. I grinned, telling them about my run. I know who had the best of it tonight. I've never felt more in tune with Askwith's Running Free mantra. This is what it's all about for me now.

[marathondan]

One of the best photos I can recall seeing on here, Sweder. Perfect conditions.

[Bierzo Baggie]

One of the best photos I can recall seeing on here, Sweder. Perfect conditions.

Yep, no  "junk miles" possible with that landscape on your back yard!    

[Sweder]

Twitten Run #14 unfolded without drama this morning.
With Tom away on Cross Country Duty, CC5 on the alpine slopes, 5ussexgirl in Suffolk and OATR still in recovery, just the four hardy souls took their place on the Brooman's Lane grid. Myself, OATR's Progeny, Felix, celebrated Moyleman Lensman James McCauley and the Boyband-quiffed David J Stacey, set off for what was possibly the swiftest circuit yet.

Trouble is, when there's just four of you, all reasonably swift, down-time is limited. Twitten Run rules suggest the group reform at the summit of each ascent, to lope down the next one as one, reform, blast up, repeat ad nauseum. With no laggers or prevaricators (Arch Duncan, AWOL these past two weeks, likes a natter on route), recovery time was virtually nil.

Happily my hamstring held together nicely, allowing me to cruise home in comfort to Ground Coffee for a welcome Flat White with the waiting OATR. I present our requisite 'bottom of Keere Street Selfie' - otherwise known as the Four Stages of Hair-loss.

   

Here we are 'flying' up the penultimate 'up' Twitten, St. Nicholas Lane (Twitten 10 of 12), as shot by OATR from the doorway of Ground Coffee.
Note my excellent new stripy socks, cheekily juxtaposed with my stylish pink-tipped baggy shorts. Sartorial elegance R us, innit.

   

[Sweder]

Cracking Friday night jaunt with The Cat, a 5pm sun-chaser to Blackcap. Mud, encroaching darkness, hounds, shadowy sheep and cool air. We knocked out the five plus miles at a fair lick, nattering about this and that until the steep inclines stole our breath. 

No better way to wrap up a tough working week. I'm time-keeper at the Bevy Parkrun tomorrow, so we're adding three hilly warm-up miles to Sunday's Twitten Run. Some handsome livestock loomed out of the gloom tonight. Form an orderly queue, ladies ...