Here cometh April

[Charliecat5]

The land of Vampires.

My Dad is 70… I am amazed he’s made it to be honest.  Everything I have learnt about drinking and the art of good eating came from him.  I can only assume the man survives by way of being pickled in goose fat and alcohol.  Which gives me something to look forward in terms of my own, erm, term on this world, but also the horror that he may yet live for another 70 years.

Why is this important I hear you ask… well, for his 70 birthday I took him, and my sister, and her two girls, and us of course, to Whitby for a long weekend.  Apparently he loves nothing more than spending time with us… which is understandable.

We went on boat trips, we paddled, we went round the Dracula house of horror (quickly). We ate fish and chips (obv.), we ate pasties, we had a fabulous Italian meal.  And we drank… oh boy we drank.  Red wine, beer and grappa.  I also managed to fit in a run.

I set the alarm for 7:10 on Sunday morning for a pre-twitten run before not doing the Twittens.  It was early because I needed to be back by 8:30 to meet the family for a big lardy breakfast in the Youth Hostel café. 

I woke, I changed, I didn’t wake the slumbering family, and set out in the appearing dawn for a run over the cliff tops.  I had imaged that this was going to be a beautiful run along pristine, dry cliff top paths.   And it was beautiful with a lovely breeze blowing in off the sea… but it was also very, very muddy.  Muddier than some of the muddiest runs I have done on the Downs.  It wasn’t sinky-in mud, but it was very slippy and splashy mud.  There were stretches impossible to run – and a struggle to walk. 

But it was lovely… even running through a large caravan park at 7:30 in the morning was quite pleasant.   I had three miles in mind, but ended up doing four as I spotted a lighthouse on the cliff tops which seemed a suitable turning point.  It was.

Other than a couple of people up early in the caravan site doing whatever caravan site people do… heading to the communal bathrooms I’d image… I saw and passed no-one.  Had the whole of the north east to myself.  

By the time I got home the family were just being to stir… enough to grunt: “Christ, look at the state of you, you filthy ******, get in the bloody shower… and have you just walked through the Youth Hostel dressed like that…”

I enjoyed my breakfast.  We then went to Runswick Bay for the morning and I pulled a muscle skimming stones… such is life.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

You've tamed those shin splints then..?

[Charliecat5]

Strike a bleedin’ light.

Last night was Herd running night and it promised to be quite exciting as it was the first evening run since I joined last autumn that was off-road and not dark. 

Being the first Tuesday of the month it was a pub run and the pub in question was the Laughing Fish in Isfield for a jaunt along the river to the Anchor and back. Two pubs… one run… fantastic.

For a run out of town, quite a few people turned up and at 7pm sharp our leader corralled us together and suggested that we all run as one group.  I liked the sound of that.

We set off… and as usual, with no sense of pacing myself I launched in at full speed with the front pack chatting away to one of the lovely runners.  After about 200 yards I realised that my ability to chat was rapidly in decline.  After 400 yards, so was my breathing.  At the half mile point we stopped, as the crazies I was now accidently running with had lost sight of the rest of ‘em.   Before I could mutter “I’ll wait for the others” our great leader announced that as they were some distance back, we’ll carry on as a ‘fast group’. 

I could have waited for the slower group… I really could have waited… I wish I had waited… but caught up in the camaraderie and words of encouragement I went with them.  There is a reason why the Tuesday night runners have a ‘fast group’.  That’s because they’re fast.  There is a reason why I don’t run with them.  That’s because they’re fast.

Two miles in and I was still with the pack but bloody ‘ell, I was buggered.  By mile three I was definitely at the back and losing distance.  The lovely runners didn’t leave me though, they took it in turns to run with me, chatting away to keep me company and to make sure I didn’t stop.  One runner, who will remain nameless (Dom), said he didn’t mind as he was tapering for a 50 mile run on Saturday and needed to take it easy…  HE THOUGHT THIS WAS EASY!

By mile four and a half we had reached the original half mile point.  The pack were heading off to do another couple of miles, but I’d had enough and headed back to the pub, along with Hugh who had also had enough – albeit was still running quicker than me.

One other point, and quite an important one, is that we didn’t stop at the Anchor for a pint.  I would have welcomed a sit down and a pint at that point.  And perhaps a taxi back to the Laughing Fish.

My average pace (moving… not that there was much stopping) was 8:29 min/mi with two miles under 8 mins.  For you proper runners out there, I guess this is just a walk in the park… for me… ouch.

It was great fun though… now I’m sitting on a train 24 hours later.

[Charliecat5]

You've tamed those shin splints then..?

I'm not sure... what I am sure about is that they are not classic shin splints.  It is only the left shin and this, I believe, is caused by problems with my left hammie, which is still not 100%.  The fact that this pulls, means my calf muscles pull (they don't need any excuse) which is then altering my gait leading to the moaning shin.

Whilst things niggled last night, nothing screamed.  Well apart from me shouting at the rest of the Herd to stop as we ran past the Anchor. 

We ran past a pub MLCMM!  A pub.  I cried.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

We ran past a pub MLCMM!  A pub.  I cried.

My God, Charlie! What kind of heartless, sadistic, cult have you got yourself into??!

It's OK mate, don't panic, I know where you can get help ... right here.

[Charliecat5]

Well that was an lovely experience.  I ran a pre-Twitten run with the God Father himself this morning, Mr Tom Roper.  We did Sweder’s circuit and it was very enjoyable.  The pace was a little quicker than I expected so we managed to fit in an extra bit before we met with the rest of the Twitten Twits at 9am.

We then ran the Twittens, which was bloody hard work this morning.  A large group congregated at the start line… but a group that was pretty much made up of ‘hard-core runners’, including Will (13 years old) who was usually the first to the top and didn’t even have the good grace to break into a sweat.

Being a group of crazies meant the pace was faster, the rest periods were smaller and the chat was more restrained – due to the first two reasons.  By the time the coffee shop made its appearance I was ready for a sit down.

(Note to self… I must eat before I go out running).

Coffee over, three of us set off back to the prison as Tom had left his car at the top (and we needed to get Sweder back to the prison before a 10:30 curfew… ha ha ha).  Having said our good byes to Tom, the Big Man and I ran the last few yards to where we usually part company… but I was feeling frisky this morning and suggested we did a little more.  So it was back up the prison road for half a mile where he peeled off to head home, leaving me to run another mile or so back over the race course and along the railway line back home. 

All in all a healthy nine miles.   

   

[The Beast of Bevendean]

It was a pleasure. I've been feeling in a bit of a Sunday-run rut. After decades when Sundays have been consecrated to the long run, Twitten running, though demonstrably beneficial, seemed to lack something — the distance is a little under 5k. Adding pre- and post- Twitten runs is an ideal solution.

[Charliecat5]

What a delight to be running over hills draped in the setting sun.  Herd running last night was over very familiar terrain – so much so, that I spent much of it in the lead.

Leaving HQ we ran towards Chez Cat and then along the railway to the stables, before heading along the track that takes you to the bottom of Sweder’s hill.  Here instead of turning right we went left up through some beautiful woods before following the track back along the race course until we made it back to the prison and then a happy little jaunt through town to HQ again. 

After last week’s escapades I was very careful to select which group I went with.  Holding myself back ensured that I didn’t accidently head out with the Crazies again with the result that I ended up in what first appeared to be quite a slow group.  However, once we hit the hills a small party, led by me, broke free and upped the pace.

I set out running at a reasonably comfortable pace and took the lead… however,  my new friend Hugh had different ideas and fairly soon caught up with me… which resulted in both of us maintaining an 8 min/mi pace for the next mile or so… gloriously pounding the tracks surround by the South Downs doing their majestic thing all around us. 

After a while we stopped to let the rest of the herd catch-up… at which point the master of running himself, Dom (who was having an easy run with us to rest up after his weekend 50 miler) took off.  I followed.  What a run… it was a gentle decline but we were running sub 7 min/mi for a while.

I then displayed my weird ability to run quickly through mud.  They were impressed.  Well I think that’s what they said. 

A seven mile run on a Tuesday evening… not too shabby.  

   

[Charliecat5]

It was a pleasure. I've been feeling in a bit of a Sunday-run rut. After decades when Sundays have been consecrated to the long run, Twitten running, though demonstrably beneficial, seemed to lack something — the distance is a little under 5k. Adding pre- and post- Twitten runs is an ideal solution.

I am starting to consider dropping the Sunday Twittens for the sunnier months to head out on the Downs instead.  I need to get back to building distance, and as much as I enjoy the Twitten running and the coffee that follows - It uses up my weekend running pass. 

I will do this coming weekend and then make a decision.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Sounds like which ever way you go, you're going to win. Fabulous running either way. Enjoy!

[Charliecat5]

It’s a fishy tail 

On Wednesday evening I travelled a little way out of town to meet a client for tea.  I ordered fish and chips (I am very partial to fish and chips (some would say obsessed)).  It arrived and looked great.  There was lots of it, it radiated a lovely smell and it came with homemade mushy peas.  Excellent.

But… the fish wasn’t quite as good as it might have been… I ate it as I was with a client and they were paying… but something wasn’t quite right.

On Thursday something was amiss… nothing desperate… no toilet incidents… just a general feeling of not being altogether… well, together.  I had already arranged to meet one of our crazy Twitten runners in the evening for a run out to Blackcap, so as there wasn’t really anything wrong with me I decided to go.

We met behind the Prison and set off.  Now David, as an aside,  is an interesting runner… probably a bit like me I guess.  I.e. not very confident in his own running abilities, but seems very at home pounding out the miles over mud and hills.

He set quite a pace up to Blackcap… and when we got to the final assault on the peak itself the game was on.  We pushed each other hard up that hill hitting the top at pretty much the same time.  Me collapsing on the floor unable to breath, and David bent over double retching.   It was a special moment I can tell you.   I checked the stats on our return and we did this somewhere between an 8:30 and 9:00 min/mi pace – which for me, on that hill, is bloody fast.   Once recovered, we headed back home again.  Just short of 6 miles.

However, we need to go back to the fish.  Although the ascent of Blackcap was something else, the rest of the run just wasn’t quite there... I wasn’t in the zone.  I had to stop a number of times just to have a little breather and overall my pace was off the mark.  David was very patient with me. 

I have come to realise that it doesn’t take much to knock a run of the edge.  In this case a dodgy piece of cod. 

   

[The Beast of Bevendean]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

[Charliecat5]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

[Charliecat5]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

Thanks for letting minnow.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Very strange. One might almost say it was the piece of cod that passeth all understanding.

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

Thanks for letting minnow.

There's no need to carp on about it.

[Charliecat5]

You may have opunned a can of worms there Tom; Charlie is clearly a cod-fearing man.

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

Thanks for letting minnow.

There's no need to carp on about it.

Dory, I was feeling orcaward about it.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I wrote that last piece just for the halibut.

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

Thanks for letting minnow.

There's no need to carp on about it.

Dory, I was feeling orcaward about it.

I know a plaice where you can get help for that.

[Charliecat5]

That's OK, no eel-feeling.

Thanks for letting minnow.

There's no need to carp on about it.

Dory, I was feeling orcaward about it.

I know a plaice where you can get help for that.

Brill-iant... I've been herring about that.  It is a great oppor-tuna-ty as long as it isn't reinventing the whale.  I here it's open every day barraumundi.