Pennine Lancashire 10k

Having travelled to the end of the M62 two weeks ago for the Hull 10k, this weekend I set off in the other direction and crossed the Pennines to Burnley, home of the Pennine Lancashire 10k.  Like Hull before it, I had only had reason to visit Burnley a couple of times in the past so I knew very little about what the town was like, or more importantly, what the the route for the race was.  I knew so little about Burnley that I had spent the best part of Saturday working out where I would be able to get parked.

When I wasn't double checking car parks and road closures I was checking the weather forecast.  Hull had been wet, but it was a fine drizzle on a still day, perfect for keeping cool during a run.  Burnley was set for heavy rain all morning.  I don't mind running in the rain one bit, but the idea of standing around in the rain for an hour waiting for the race to get started wasn't something I was looking forward to.  Neither was the drive over the tops.  I know that it doesn't take much for the M62 to grind to a halt so I set off from Leeds before 7am to give myself plenty of traffic jam time, should I need it.

Luckily I didn't and I was in Burnley just after 8, an hour and a half before the gun and, as it happens, kicking out time from the town's night clubs.  Groups of staggering drunken lads and girls falling out of their high heels, dodging pools of sick, was not the welcome to Burnley that I had imagined.  But I had made it and could finally start thinking about the race.  It was only then that I discovered that I'd left my watch at home.  I don't run with a clever GPS watch, just a simple stopwatch, thinking about pace and splits is part of how I run.  I felt nude and lost, but at least the forecast rain hadn't turned up yet.

I made my way from the baggage drop to the starting pens and it dawned on me how small the field was.  I was stood with the other people planning to run sub 50 and we were almost within touching distance of the start line.  The mass warm up was dutifully ignored by all around me as we primed ourselves for the start, only the start didn't come.  The announcement team jovially told us that there was a car somewhere on the course and that the police were involved in getting it moved.  This was annoying but it shows how seriously Health and Safety is taken at these events.

Isn't the start line close.

After the longest 20 minutes ever we were finally off.  Like a pack of un-caged greyhounds we hurtled along the downhill start and, as is normal, I went off too fast.  Well, I thought that I was going too fast, without my watch I had no way of knowing.  At the first kilometre flag (the site of the erroneous car which had held up the start) I had no way of knowing what my pace was.  The first kilometre of any race always lies but I had no idea what was going on.  I kept focused on my breathing and tried to block out negative thoughts about how I was actually doing.

The course left the roads of Burnley and entered Thompson Park and the start of a 4k climb.  The hill itself wasn't too bad, the gradient wasn't too steep but it did go on, twisting and turning around trail paths.  I knew I had slowed down but, again, I didn't know how much I had slowed down by.  By the time I was heading back down the long hill through Towneley Golf Course I was more or less spent.  I was slowing down whilst running down hill, convinced that my time was shocking and feeling like I had nothing left to give, even though there was still 3k to go.

That nagging "just stop for a little walk" voice just wouldn't leave me alone.  It was only because the "don't forget your watch next time you idiot" voice was louder that I managed to ignore it and run on.  Although I didn't know the course before the race started, I did know that the finish was flat apart from the slight rise to the finish line, the same road that we all ran down at the start.  After passing the 9k flag I had a word with myself, summoned all that I had left and pushed for home, something that I would normally only do in the last couple hundred meters, but needs must.

Glory achieved or could have done better?

I had started the day hoping to run sub 50.  I knew it wasn't a flat race so 45 minutes was out of the question.  When the finish gantry came into view showing the clock still in the mid 40s all doubt left me, replaced be a burning annoyance that I could have gone faster!  I crossed the line in 47:28, two and a half minutes faster than last year's flat Leeds 10k, a time that I should be happy with, but one that I know I should have been able to run faster than.

The next race in the Run For All 10k series is the Leeds in two weeks time and I have my eyes fixed very firmly on it.  I have last year's time of 49:52 to beat, but I also have the time from the Hull 10k (45:30) to deal with.  I have said in the past that I would love to run sub 45 this year and Leeds is as good a chance as any of reaching that goal, however I'll have no chance of achieving it if I leave my watch at home.

Run Leader Sancho, Run!

Why do you run?  It's a question asked often by runners and non-runners a like.  My stock answer had always been that I began running so that I wouldn't be that fat dad at sports days, unable to take part, not even fit enough to be a touch judge should R ever decide to be interested in playing Rugby.  I didn't want to be an embarrassment and I did want to be able to support him if needed.

These days however I run a lot more for me than for him.  I think it started with my first race, the 2013 Leeds 10k.  It wasn't a good run, you can read about it here, but I made it, I earned my goody bag and in that bag was my first race t-shirt.  I have been obsessed with the t-shirts ever since.

All of them have a story.  The hours, days, and weeks of training that went into earning them.  The fund raising efforts.  The friends made in the holding pens and at the finish line.  But yesterday I received a t-shirt that eclipses them all, one that I am immensely proud of, one that I will never tire of wearing.

 

Last year Ben from Run England asked me if I had ever considered being a Run Leader.  We knew each other from previous jobs but not in a running sense.  He had read this blog, talked to me about running, and for some reason thought that I was a good candidate even though I was a solitary road runner and not part of any groups.  He needed a couple of people trained up and qualified as Leaders in Running Fitness to get a new group off the ground.  That group was South Leeds Lakers and Geoff and I were those people.

We're now in the 20th week of the Lakers and we have gone from strength to strength.  From nothing, we now have 80 people registered with us.  Geoff and I have been joined by Tania and Yaz, and another clutch of run leaders are being recruited from the Lakers to ensure that we have enough cover on run nights and that we can continue to expand the group.

Every time one of the Lakers' enters a race when before they wouldn't have thought it possible my chest swells with pride.  Every PB from a 1 mile burst to the 26.2 miles of a marathon that any of them achieve makes me grin from ear to ear.  Every week, when people turn up, rain or shine, willing and wanting to run because we have said that they can, fills my heart.

Yesterday I received one of the first Run Leeds "run leader" t-shirts.  At the time I hadn't realised quite what this meant to me, but after chasing a group of runners who had taken a wrong turn and then congratulating 37 runners on another great turnout and run, I had a chance to let it sink in.  I am no longer just a solo runner, I am a Run Leader. 

Hull 10k 2015

Beyond the end of the M62 lies Kingston Upon Hull.  I've only had cause to visit the East Riding of Yorkshire a couple of times, once for a wedding and a couple of times to visit The Deep, but I have never felt the need for a day out in Hull.  York, Sheffield, Huddersfield, Halifax, all have their appeal but Hull has just never sparked off my imagination.

Finally, this weekend I had a legitimate reason for visiting the home of the Tigers, the Hull 10k.  This was the first of the five races that make up my Run For All Ultimate Season Ticket and I wanted to make a good show of it, so I arranged to stay over night in Hull rather than making a mad dash for the start line from Leeds in the morning.

The journey to Hull was fine and Gary* and I managed not to get stupidly drunk on Saturday night.  I woke fresh in the morning and consumed my traditional pre-race breakfast of black coffee and an orange juice, saving a banana for consumption 1 hour before the start of the race.  It had rained over night but from the flat window it looked like it had eased off.  We piled into a taxi and took the short drive to the centre of a rain soaked Hull.

By the time we got to the bridge over the River Hull on Alfred Gelder Street the rain was back.  We dropped our bags off and took shelter in the doorway of the Princes Quay shopping centre with the rest of the participants.  Running in the rain is no stranger to me.  I've been running in all conditions over winter, but it looked like this was going to be my first wet race day.  We took the decision to brave the elements, we were going to get very wet soon enough anyway, and we wandered towards the start pens.

I'm really doing this, right?

On our way we picked up Gav, Amy, and Hazel from South Leeds Lakers, resplendent in their lime green tshirts.  I was questioning my decision to run in a vest at this point, but there was no turning back now.  I left the gang behind and made my way into the sub 50 pen and tried to focus on gently warming up and stretching.  My legs hadn't felt the same since a drill session with Farsley Flyers on Thursday night and I didn't help myself by running Bramley parkrun either but I was ready for a run.

The obligatory speeches with local celebs felt like it would never end but finally we were under way, give or take a false start as everybody around me started running before the line only to have to slam on the breaks as the road pinched in to get us all over the timing mats.  Finally we were running and I felt good.  No nerves, no feeling that I was going too fast, passing those around me without having to weave or jump out of the way of slower runners who had found themselves in the wrong pen.

The first couple of kilometres were over fast and I could already see where some of the pinch points were going to be.  The route doubled back on itself in places with runners on both sides of the narrow roads.  As I went through 4k I saw Jan, a friend from Twitter, heading in the opposite direction.  We gave each other a high five and carried on through the drizzle.

The only scenery that I was interested in was the kilometre marker flags so I didn't really pay attention to the houses and seafront that were were running along, you could just make out the Humber bridge in the haze but it was nothing to write home about.  The Deep is impressive though and I couldn't help but smile as we passed it and the 5k marker.  I was very close to my parkrun PB time and it dawned on me that; a) I had been running too fast after all; and b) if I could just keep this pace up I'd be on for a great time.

The section through the docks should have been lovely, but my head was starting to swim with doubt over my ability, so I didn't pay any attention to the boats bobbing along side us.  The course took us back into the heart of Hull, through the pedestrianised shopping streets, which were full of crowds cheering us on, along with some people oblivious to the fact that the race was happening, blindly walking against the tide of runners, smoking and drinking, in the middle of the road.  How they weren't knocked over is beyond me.

Photo via the Hull Daily Mail.

Passing our previous rain shelter, the Princes Quay shopping centre, I knew there wasn't long left.  I had time in the bag to beat my previous 10k PB of 49:52, set in Leeds last year, and I was also close to my target for the year of running a 10k in under 45 minutes.  I hadn't set a specific target for the Hull 10k and was using it to see how close I was to that Leeds time so I was elated when I crossed the line in 45:30.  The Leeds time had fallen and I was very close to my dream time.

I really enjoyed the Hull 10k.  The conditions were perfect. The rain was gentle and cooling, there wasn't much wind to speak of and for once it wasn't a baking hot day.  The rain had made the cobbled sections through the docks slippery and the many twists and turns meant constantly altering your stride but obviously not by enough to really affect my time.

Glory Achieved

It is 4 weeks until the Leeds 10k.  4 weeks to find 30 seconds.  Only 3 seconds per kilometre.  before then there is the Pennine 10k, a trail race in Middleton and continuing training for the York marathon and the TrailTrekk so I wont manage any specific speed work.  I'll just have to see what Leeds brings, but for now I'm going to sit back and bask in the glory of the Hull 10k.

*not only was Gary my host for the night, but the Hull 10k was also going to be his first race.  For once I was out nerved. 

The road to York

A few weeks ago I took my first steps on the road to York.  No, I'm not planning to run or walk the 25 miles from my home in South Leeds to York city centre.  The road to York is my training plan for the 2015 Yorkshire Marathon which takes place in York on the 11th October.

Before I had crossed even the start line of the Leeds Half Marathon I already knew the the training for my first full marathon was only a couple of weeks away.  I gave myself a week off, and the luxury of Over the Odda, a brilliant 10k trial race, before my plan started on the 18th May.  I say the 18th of May, the first run of the plan was on Tuesday the 19th with South Leeds Lakers and I was instantly off the plan.  The run that night took us 8k through Middleton Woods and I was only meant to be running 6k, but I guess a longer run is better than a shorter one.

The plan I'm working with is an amalgam of plans I have found on line which I have altered to fit with real life and how I like to run.  I have also taken the liberty to add my own thoughts to the training plan.  The first change was to extend the plan from 16 weeks to 21 weeks.  I could have gone with a 20 week plan but I wanted to add in extra weeks to accommodate the other races that that I have entered between now and October.  This way a 10k race will not get in the way of 16 mile long slow run and I can make sure that I've not run too much in the week before a race.

My race number for Run For All 10k series. Hull, Pennine, Leeds, York.

I'm already on week 3a, the first of the additional weeks.  On Sunday I'll be taking part the Hull 10k and then I'll be getting back to the long miles.  With the extra race days, running groups, and a varied plan of long and short runs, I'm hoping that I can get to York with a spring in my step.  I know quite a few people who have fallen out of love with running due to the miles involved in marathon training and I'm determined not to be one of them. 

The road to York will be long, but it is one that I am relishing running along.

Llamas Not Included

This week my non-running challenge for the year became very real.  In August I'm taking part in TrailTrekker, a 100k walk through the Yorkshire Dales, non-stop, in under 30 hours.  The reasons why I'm taking part in this really long walk are lost in the shrouds of time, but once an idea has formed in my mind they somehow manage to take on a life of their own.  A good example of this would be the fact that I am also running my first marathon this year.  I'm not sure how signing up to that happened either.

The trekk is undertaken, for health and safety reasons, in teams of four and, on Sunday, my team 'Llamas Not Included' went out for a long walk to scout out some of the route before the main event.  Back in March we had walked the first four stages of the route in dreadful conditions. To say that morale was low at that point is an understatement.  We had returned to Leeds cold, wet and sore.  The memories of the discomfort were fresher in our minds than the memories of the route or the scenery, so we hoped for better weather this time around.

Unfortunately the weather forecast at the start of the week only served to bring the negative memories back.  Heavy rain, low temperatures, strong wind, all of the things that we had battled against previously.  The discussions in the week running up to Sunday's walk were all of the "shall we do something else" variety.  We met up on Thursday evening, following a presentation about the event, to work out what we were going to do.  I don't know if it was the beer or the fact that we had been encouraged by the powerpoint presentation, but we decided to brave the elements and walk the next three stages, from Horton in Ribblesdale to Buckden.

It was almost 9 o'clock in the morning before we set off from Horton on the Pennine Way, the path that had previously brought us here from Gargrave.  It was raining, but not as heavily as the forecast had made out.  It was obvious that it had been raining heavily though as the stone path was running like a stream, all be it a very shallow one.  We crossed the 3 Peaks path and immediately wished that we had taken it rather than sticking to the Pennine Way, which was flooded.  We took our time and looked for a route around the pop-up river that shouldn't have been emptying into the lake that had formed in front of us.  In the end we had to wade through the shallowest parts of the saturated tundra.  My feet were soaked and we had only been walking for 3k.  This was not the start to the day that I had hoped for.

That stream is the Pennine Way

As well as making ponds out of puddles, the wet conditions also added spectacle to the early stages of the walk.  The waterfall at Calf Holes was in full flow, as were the falls at Ling Gill where we also found wild orchids.  I had never seen a British orchid before.  My first sighting of these small, brilliantly purple flowers, coincided with the change in the weather.  The rain eased off and above us the clouds began to break.  The wind at our backs stiffened as we climbed the day's only slope, up Cam Fell, and before long we said farewell to the Pennine Way and hello to the Dales Way.

As much as PW had left us sodden, on both walks, DW was pulling no punches from the first steps.  The slope back down Cam Fell was spongy and wet at best.  Our purposeful strides to the summit had been replaced by tentative steps as we tried to find the driest way to Cam Farm and the first of the day's checkpoints.  It had taken us three hours but any lost time would have been made up if we'd had a canoe.  The soggy ground continued until we got to Swarthgill Farm where it became a proper track.  Thoughts entered our heads about running this section in August (to use different muscle groups) but as it will be dark next time we're on the path it didn't feel like a good idea.

Stunning view from Yockenthwaite Farm

We stopped for a rest by the ford at Beckermond, before pushing on to Deepdale and the second stage stop of the day.  The grey sky gave way to blue and before long we were all over-dressed.  For the first time in two days walking we were well fed and not cold.  The forecast strong wind was on our backs and everything was in our favour.  A little over an hour later we arrived back in Buckden, smiles on our faces, already contemplating our next training walk.

Well earned pint in the sunshine back in Buckden

Regardless of what our next training session is, team 'Llamas Not Included' will be setting out to complete the 100k walk on Saturday 22nd August, aiming for all four of us to make it round by the morning of Sunday 23rd.  We are under no illusion that as nice as the last part of training was, the full event will be a hard physical and mental challenge.  As well as pushing ourselves, we are also raising money for Oxfam, who are organising the event.  If you would like to make a donation to give us a morale boost and support the work Oxfam do please follow the link to our Just Giving page.

Over the Odda, 2015

Last April, as I was gearing up for my first crack at the Leeds half marathon, I was made aware of Over the Odda, "An inspiring off road run with amazing views and challenging terrain."  At the time I was convinced that a challenging 10k the week after 13.1 miles was a bad idea so I decided not to enter, even though I was tempted by the course.  I had already finished the Harewood 10k and had loved running in the country side so much that the thought of another off road race on my doorstep was really appealing.

I made the right decision though.  I was sore for weeks after the 2014 Leeds half and my legs would not have thanked me for another race day so soon afterwards.  This year though, because I wasn't going to run the Leeds half I decided to give Over the Odda a crack.  I even managed to talk seven of my running buddies from South Leeds Lakers in to signing up too for our first Group race day*.

Of course it turned out that I had entered the Leeds half, but if I set my mind to something it happens.  So one week on I was stood in the freezing cold windswept grounds of Hawksworth School wondering what was in store.  It was so cold that I even join in with the group warm up!

We were in good spirits as we were lead from the school to the field where the race would start.  The stiles we had to clamber over to get to the start line really should have been warning of what was to come, but I was too interested in getting going to think about what lay ahead.

With words of thanks to the local farmers, who let the race veer from the public footpaths, we were under way.  As normal I set off without any due care for the rest of the race.  My initial pace was too hot but weaving through people, navigating tractor troughs and knee high grass meant I didn't leave much brain space for race-day niceties.  I didn't need to worry about my pace for long though as we came to the first "Steep Hill" warning sign.

Steep didn't come close.  It was effing vertical.  I've not been so worried about going down hill since the time I went mountain biking in the Afan Forrest in a flowery frock.  I was in uncharted territory.  How on earth are you meant to run fast and safely down hills?  Soft knees, arms flailing like wind socks, I made it to the bottom in one piece where I joined a queue of people walking up an equally steep climb.  At this point in the race I was itching to pass people but there was just no room so walking it was.

Due to the hills my second mile split was 4 minutes slower than the first, but today was never going to be about times.  We passed the start, crossed the main road, and then hit another climb that even with room to pass, most people walked up.  A welcome water station met us at the top and then it was back down to business, and by down I mean straight down.  The sharpest decent on the course, through flowering gorse.  I was starting to get the hang of this off road stuff.

Running over stiles is hard, momentum is lost in an instant and in a group you can take what feels like an age to get over one.  Running over cattle grids however is something else all together.  The fear of slipping and getting my foot stuck at speed meant I took the grids at the same pace as climbing the stiles.

The thrill of running around trees while trying to keep to the course marked with red and white tape hanging from the branches was short lived, but once I was out of the wooded section I had a treat in store.  Coming the other was were two of the Lakers, Steve and Gavin.  I was expecting a wave of encouragement, or a misjudged high five.  Instead I got "I'm going to f***ing kill you!" from Gavin, I'm not sure he was feeling the love at that point.

The final mile was yet another up hill section, one which I will readily admit to walking up sections of.  I don't know if it was the start of the race or a hangover from last weekend but I didn't have much left in the tank.  My trail shoes were starting to feel full of feet but before long I was back at the school to cross the finish line in 55:47.  This was never going to be a fast race, I knew that before the start, but I'm still happy with my time.

It's fair to say that loved Over the Odda and I may well start looking more into off road/trail races in future.  It would be a different kettle of fish if it had been wet but you can't book the weather when you enter a race.  I have a strong suspicion that I will be back in Hawksworth next year, I also have a funny feeling that there will be more than 8 Lakers along side me on the start line!

*not including the Harewood 10k, East Leeds 10k, or Leeds Half Marathon.

Leeds Half Marathon 2015

Having declared that I wasn't running any half marathons this year, it's a little bit odd to find myself writing a review of one.  In fact, only two months ago I would have told you to get stuffed if you had suggested that I should enter a 13.1 mile race.  My aim was clear, 2015s training would be 100% focused on the York Marathon and I'd run a handfull of 10ks as part of that preparation.  All of that changed 8 weeks back when I got an email from Run for All asking me to confirm my details for the Leeds half.

I assumed it was a mistake as I had signed up for their Ultimate Season ticket to make sure I got a Marathon place*.  I clicked on the link and sure enough I had entered, on the 12th May 2014, one day after last year's race.  In the box marked "Why have you entered" I had written "I'm still buzzing from yesterday's race, bring on 2015."  I had been a fool.

Last year I had trained for 26 long weeks and had managed to beat my predicted 2 hour finish time coming in in 1:57:49.  I decided not to chase my PB but to try to achieve 2 hours again.  I upped my distance running, added hills, and added some speed work over short distances.  The 8 weeks went by very quickly and my last long run, last weekend, was upon me before I knew where I was.  I hadn't allowed myself much tapering time, 2 more weeks would have been great.

Then yesterday morning I joined up with around 9000 people to take on the streets of Leeds.  My pre-race nerves vanished as soon as we got to the holding pens on Millennium Square.  Up until then I was raring to get going, to leave the house on time, to get a parking space, but once I was amongst other runners I knew what was ahead of me and relaxed.

It helped that I met some of the South Leeds Lakers and Farsley Flyers for a chat before the race.  This time last year I was alone, didn't know the route, and didn't really think that I had it in me.  This time I was with a new bunch of friends, could visualise every corner and hill on the route and knew that with a decent pace I'd make it around in 2 hours.

A lot of the conversation was around the organisation of the race numbers.  You get used to this kind of thing at big events but something wasn't quite right.  Normally you get grouped by your anticipated finish time but that didn't seem to be the case, with people I knew would be faster than me starting in groups long after I was due to set off.  I didn't let it worry me though as come the start of the race you can only worry about yourself anyway.

The Red pen watched from the icy shadow of Leeds Library as first the wheelchair race, then the elite runners, followed by those wearing Blue numbers set off.  The wait to get underway was tense but we were moving soon enough.  I knew all too well that I would set off too fast but tried to keep well within myself.  The number of people around me, plus having to run up the Headrow should have slowed me down but I was already a minute under my pace by the time I got through the first mile.  The second mile saw another second fall from my target time, it was only the slog up Stonegate that brought an end to my meteoric start.

But although I had slowed down I was still managing to keep chipping away at the clock.  By the time I had scaled the Ring Road to Lawnswood I had three minutes in the bag.  Three minutes to slow down and still make 1 hour and 50 minutes, beating last year's time.  But I knew that the race was down hill from here.  I had taken a lot out of my legs, pushing too hard from the start but if I could just find a little bit more, 2 more minutes over 5 miles had to be achievable.

At 8k I was passed by Daryl who shouted encouragement as he sped past me into the distance.  A little later on John sauntered alongside me and had a bit of a chat before setting off to see if he could hunt down the 105 pace runner who almost ran me off the road on Butchers Hill.  By this time I was beginning to curse the tarmac under my feet.  My taped up knees were still ok but there was very little left in my legs and I was now on Kirkstall Road, the most boring stretch of road I have ever run on.

There is nothing inspiring on Kirkstall Road, nothing to keep you going, nothing to push against, very little to look at.  It's just you and the road.  My head was dipping as I tried to up my cadence, a final push past Yorkshire TV.  The last "hill", the slip road into town was soon upon me as was the stupidest running injury.  Further up the road I could see a fallen runner recieving first aid and on the other side of the road an ambulance had pulled up to help.  I decided to run around the ambulance so that the paramedics could get to the prone runner and as I passed, the door opened and I ran into it, spinning me through 360 degrees but not quite knocking me off my feet.

No sooner had I shaken off the embarrassment than I started to see familiar faces in the crowd. Jenny and Anna, Thomas, Phil, and Rich, all cheering me towards the final 400m.  My eyes were on stalks scanning the sea of faces for Zoe and Rhys who I found on the home straight.  I checked my watch one last time and realised that I had paused it when I hit the ambulance door.

Luckily it was still running and told me that I had a minute left.  A minute to get across the line in under 1 hour and 45 minutes.  The rest of the crowd may as well have not been there, I was on my own in a bubble of silence.  I saw the finish clock but it made no sense, it was counting from the start of the elite race after all.  I crossed the line, stopped my watch and stumbled towards the water stations and the Nicola Adams' Olympic postboxes, my prearranged meeting point.

I leant on the barriers to cheer home more of the Lakers and Flyers and took stock of what I had achieved.  My phone went off with a text from Run for All confirming that I had finished in 1:44:47.  Faster than last year, a new PB, and under 1:45.  Everything I wanted and more.

There may well be a half marathon in my plans for next year but it won't be Leeds.  I have still got to run along Kirkstall Road twice more this year (Leeds 10k and the Abbey Dash) and then I'm giving it a rest for a year, unless I accidently enter a race and forget about it again.

*The Leeds half isn't included in the season ticket for some reason.