It begins... (again)

[Charliecat5]

I'm glad you enjoyed your solo run conversing with yourself and enjoying that beautful scenery.

By the way, do you know the date of next year's Moyleman race yet?


Saludos desde Almería.

We have decided upon a date, but will announce in a few weeks time.  If you send me a private message on FB, I'll give you a heads up.

[Bierzo Baggie]

I'm glad you enjoyed your solo run conversing with yourself and enjoying that beautful scenery.

Yeah, you can see that from the first pic! The third pic's my favourite though, the open road..

[Antonio247]

I'm glad you enjoyed your solo run conversing with yourself and enjoying that beautful scenery.

By the way, do you know the date of next year's Moyleman race yet?


Saludos desde Almería.

We have decided upon a date, but will announce in a few weeks time.  If you send me a private message on FB, I'll give you a heads up.

Muchas gracias, C5. I've just seen your answer in the private Facebook message you sent me.

[Charliecat5]

The art of not knowing where you are.  I don’t mean getting lost, as clearly blokes don’t get lost… it’s more that I (we) weren’t quite sure, exactly, give or take a mile or two, where we were.

The first Tuesday of the month is Herd Pub Running night.  They are not to be missed, mainly because they involve a pub.  It usually means running somewhere different as well.  This Tuesday’s run set off from the Green Man in Ringmer.  It was a very flat route across fields of wheat, quiet country roads, and past acres of young sweetcorn keeping warm under their plastic blankets. 
 
We ran as one group which meant a long line of threaded runners occasionally re-grouping when a directional decision was required.  And there lies the numb of the issue.  I didn’t really get the impression that our leader, or indeed anyone in the group, really knew where we were going.  It was quite exciting and to give our leader his due, we did eventually make it back to the pub.

Embarrassingly, at about mile 4.5, I suddenly announced to Radar (she who gets lost walking out her own front door) that I knew exactly where we were.  If I’m being generous, and she wasn’t, then I was only out by a couple of miles.  She mentioned this a few times as the evening went on.  All in we ran 6 pretty quick miles.

   

Then Thursday came along.  Scratching my head, I would propose that it was November when I last attended a track session.  I was persuaded by OATR to go, who promised me a few post run craft beers at the Elly, to help Porter celebrate his birthday.

What a night to return to track running.  It started with a timed mile (6.47 min), to be sandwiched with six 500 metre lung busters (6.5 min/mile pace), before finishing with three 200 metre sprints at around 5.5 min/mile pace).  We then ran, slowly, to the pub to sink a few beers – re-hydration and carb rebuilding.  6.6 miles all in.

On Friday, I popped out for a recovery run with Mrs CC5.   3.4 miles at a nice gentle pace.  Just what the doctor ordered before a monk fish curry and a *ahem* a beer or two.

So far this week I have run 26.3 miles and drank about the same amount of beer.  Life is all about achieving a balance.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

So far this week I have run 26.3 miles...

Mate, it sounds almost as if you're in training for something ... is there a race that has piqued your interest?

[Charliecat5]

So far this week I have run 26.3 miles...

Mate, it sounds almost as if you're in training for something ... is there a race that has piqued your interest?

You should know by now that racing is not my thing... having said that, I meant to be running the Seaford Half next weekend.  Not that I'm anywhere near form for attacking that bastard.  

I am however, planning a running excursion up to the Lake District this autumn.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I am however, planning a running excursion up to the Lake District this autumn.

The Bob Graham Round? That would be great preparation for the Moyleman, I should think!

[Charliecat5]

The tables have turned, and that was quite possibly one of the most painful runs I have ever done.

Having decided to go running with Radar this weekend, I was in her hands in terms of arrangements.  With small children, she has a lot less flexibility than me so had suggested that we would run on Sunday afternoon, setting off sometime between four and six. 

On Saturday, I discovered that Mrs CC5 had invited some friends over for a Sunday roast dinner.  No worries I thought.  As Radar is always chasing in circles, she’s not going to be ready until 18:00 at the latest so I can fit in a roast, have time to sleep it off, before heading out the door.  Perfect.

Except for two things. 1) the roast was a lot later than planned, we finished eating at 14:45; and 2) Radar announced at 15:00, a 16:00 start. 

I was looking forward to this outing, particularly as the route had been designed by Radar, and whilst I knew the component parts, stringing them together in this order was something new to me. 

The first mile to the start line was ok.  I was held back to warm myself up and felt ok.  But then we set off proper… through the railway land, down Cliffe high street and up Chapel Hill.  But the trot up the hill did two things, it kicked off a lot of moaning from my legs (who are still feeling the impact of Thursday evening’s shenanigans), and secondly, it mixed up the contents of my stomach (5 roast potatoes, a plate of chicken and more stuffing than a man should eat in one sitting) to form a solid bowling ball of roast dinner, which then pressed upwards against my lungs causing pain when I breathed. 

I struggled on, but knew that it wasn’t going to be my day.  As we ran/stumbled round onto Malling Down I took the decision to drop out, to Let Radar go alone, as she was on fine running form and I was only going to hold her back.   

She had different ideas.  It was time for revenge.  All those winter runs when I forced her up muddy hills in the pouring rain had clearly been festering in the back of her mind.  The swearing and muttering behind my back had reach a tipping point.  She wasn’t going to let me get out of this one. 

Gentle persuasion, physically kicking me up the arse, and threats of “never lettering me hear the end of it if I don’t complete this” kept me going.  She had to significantly rein her pace in as I progressively got slower and slower.  From the bottom of Malling Down we ran along the river to Offham and then up what I will now call Radar’s Hill, up, up, up to Mount Harry before turning back towards town along the race course, Jills Ponds and back to the prison.

Ten and half miles by the time I got home.  Ten and half miles in two hours.  Not my finest two hours, but I guess I did it. Afterwards, I lay in the garden for half an hour contemplating life, before eventually crawling back inside to finish the crumble (which some ice cream of course). 

         

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

You get fed a roast dinner; your friends come round to see you; you are carried over those magnificent hills of yours by your own personal coach (and gratis at that); you have a nap in the gardens AND you get crumble with ice cream ... and you still whinge about a little bit of a tummy ache? Did you get a blister too? Do you need your blanky??

Man, I'm loving this.

[marathondan]

Ignore the nasty MLCMM, I agree that running on a full stomach is very unpleasant.

Recently a couple of times I've made lunch for the family, gone out for a run while they eat theirs, then wolfed mine when I get back.

[Charliecat5]

Ignore the nasty MLCMM, I agree that running on a full stomach is very unpleasant.

Recently a couple of times I've made lunch for the family, gone out for a run while they eat theirs, then wolfed mine when I get back.

You clearly have a very different, and more trust worthy, family than mine.  If I went out for a run while they ate theirs, I wouldn't have a dinner to return to.  I live with a pack of wolves.

As for ignoring MLCMM... always... when he has something productive to say, I might listen up.  

[marathondan]

You clearly have a very different, and more trust worthy, family than mine.  If I went out for a run while they ate theirs, I wouldn't have a dinner to return to.  I live with a pack of wolves.

Now that you mention it... the other week I returned to find a whole litre of home-made soup had been consumed in my absence. By one person. Who shall remain nameless. (Although to be fair, she made it in the first place. But still.)

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

You guys should be running before breakfast on an empty stomach anyway ... burn fat, not carbs!

[glaconman]

Be interested to know what you're planning in the Lakes come Autumn CC5.

[Charliecat5]

Be interested to know what you're planning in the Lakes come Autumn CC5.

My starting point is a love of the Lakes.  The second point is that Sweder has never been.  So my plan is nothing more than getting a few friends together for a weekend of running and/or walking, and definitely drinking.    One of my favourite walks is the Cat Bells, and since I started this running malarkey I've always fancied running from Hawes End, over the Bells and back along the top to Borrowdale.  

It may never happen... but...

[glaconman]

Sounds like a mighty fine plan Sir.

We often stay at the Borrowdale YHA which I can recommend for cheap and cheerful group accomodation in a great location. They even have a beers on the pumps. You could then drop down from Dale Head.

Can't believe Sweder has never been to the Lakes. I suppose he's been everywhere else.

[Charliecat5]

Sounds like a mighty fine plan Sir.

We often stay at the Borrowdale YHA which I can recommend for cheap and cheerful group accomodation in a great location. They even have a beers on the pumps. You could then drop down from Dale Head.

Can't believe Sweder has never been to the Lakes. I suppose he's been everywhere else.

I have stayed at the Borrowdale YHA many times... one of my favourite places in the world.   Would you be interested in joining us?

[glaconman]

Very kind of you to offer. Good man. Keep me in the loop and let's see if I can swing it.

[Charliecat5]

For a man who doesn’t race, I’ve just completed my second half marathon this year, and it’s all the fault of the Moyleman.   In the euphoria following March 12th, someone suggested that we, as in the Moyleman committee, should enter the Seaford Half.  What fun we all thought, and sped off to navigate the complex entry procedure to bag ourselves a place.  March 12th is quite a long way from May 15th, 63 days to be exact.  So, nothing to worry about.

The trouble is at my age 63 days pass in the blinking of an eye.  The 63 days had also bought with them some other issues; namely some ‘orrible niggles in my butt cheeks (glutes) and a tightness in my IT bands that just won’t go away.  I blame MLCMM for all of this… his recent spell of good running is a direct consequence of passing his aches and pains to me. 

With a week to go, I had almost talked myself out of running, deciding to do the sensible thing and listen to what my body was telling me.  This was helped in part by three of our original party dropping out, two from injury (Tom and David) and one from… well I don’t know what… but the Big Man announced in very clear terms that he wasn’t doing it.

However, in my heart of hearts I didn’t want to give up before I’d even arrived at the start line, which meant I was there on Sunday morning at 9am, lining up with the rest of the nutters, including OATR and Radar (who only decided to enter the day before).  Having taken the decision to run, it seemed sensible to have a ‘steady as she goes’ game plan.  Success marked by finishing in one piece, rather than going for a sub 2-hour foray into the abyss.  

The result?  Well it was relatively slow, not quite a slow as planned, but slow enough.  The first half went ok, crossing the halfway point in exactly an hour, but a long flat section following the river took its toll.   Silly really, given the terrain, but I started to suffer, each step sending a shock of pain from my left hip to my calf muscle, just as though I had touched an electric fence.  It was almost a relief to reach the final hill, the infamous Seaford Head.   As I crested the hill I could see the finish a mile away in the distance.  With eyes straining to find OATR and Radar ahead, I managed to run it in, picking up the pace for the last half a mile, overtaking runners to cross the line in 2 hours 13 minutes.  The two of them had come in 5-6 minutes quicker. 

As for the race… it’s a great run over hills I am not that familiar with.  The valley section is surprisingly tough for a trail runner like me, but as Radar pointed out… rivers are her running nemesis… perhaps mine too.  I would like to do it again with legs rested… as I know I could do it in under two hours.

This morning I have done the sensible thing (I know) and emailed a physio to set up an appointment to sort my legs out.  The Twitten Kitten will be very surprised to hear this.

   

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Bravo, CC5, you've done alright, son. Clearly, forcing my injuries and woes on to your good self has done us both the power of good. Erm, sort of. Doubtless, the physio will subject you to all sorts of horrendous and excruciating agonies (not to mention expensive) before giving you a list of self-inflicting tortures to properly torment yourself with at home (gratis, as it were, which in many ways, is even worse).

Welcome to the world of endurance running. Mwahahaha.