Onwards & upwards for Cirencester

The regularity or otherwise of my postings is a good barometer of how many miles I'm running. This is the fourth such missive in 2012 so there must be something to write about. Last Sunday saw my first road race since the World Masters Marathon Champs in Finland in July 2009, a pancake flat 10k in the delightful Cotswold village of Bourton-on-the-Water just 20 minutes from home.

Adrian Williams illustrating Bourton's Cotswolds attractions

It was certainly good to be around the buzz of a race after such a long gap, there's nothing quite like the nervous anticipation before competing. I felt like a complete novice, not knowing what to do and where to stand in the 500 strong pack at the start. Got a few 'welcome back' and 'why are you standing this far back' comments from surprised Cirencester clubmates before setting off in the pack. Race went reasonably well, my slow start presaged a somewhat suicidal increase in pace after the initial two 1km laps around the village, not helped by raucous encouragement from spectating friends. But I survived after a bit of a struggle, annoyingly pipped for the V55 title by a handful of seconds. More importantly my Achilles, although tight for a few days, seemed to survive relatively intact.

Best news of the day was an overwhelming team win for Cirencester's men in this prestigious race. Chris Illman, Dave Bell, Adrian Williams and Bill Leggate won comfortably and with the help of others not at Bourton are really starting to put the club on the map. To beat the major local clubs such as Cheltenham & Stroud is a real fillip to the boys and there's more to come.

Great to be back in the pack with a number on.

Ranelagh win mob match by 12 points!

Well that's another batch of mobs completed and what a finale to the 2011/2012 season! In rapidly deteriorating conditions - one always feels for the officials in these circumstances - an epic battle ensued between old rivals South London and Ranelagh Harriers over the hilly terrain of the cruelly worded Happy Valley near Coulsdon.

Both clubs were under strength in terms of numbers, a combination of the previous week's final Surrey League fixture; mob match 'fatigue' (an extra mob was included this winter to accommodate Orion's centenary celebrations); and the inexorable rise in the popularity of the iniquitous Parkruns which are impacting negatively on the traditional xc fixture list. Paradoxically this created the perfect menu for the closest mob match result and best atmosphere at the end of a race that I can remember in 37 years of competing*. Both at the finish where every runner in either blue or white was cheered home by clubmates, and back in the changing room where there was a buzz of conversation: "it's close, but I think we might have nicked it."; "they packed well but had a long tail."; "surely we've won it."; "a couple of their guys dropped out, that could make all the difference." were just some of the comments shared by both clubs' runners as we showered and changed.

We didn't have long to wait as SLH's efficient but bedraggled officials announced the result. Prefaced by the individual winners & times, age group leaders, SLH handicap result, the tension mounted ... a win for Ranelagh by a mere 12 points out of total scoring of 670 points. Those SLH dropouts had made the difference as had Ranelagh's Chris Owens' brave decision to plough on despite sustaining an injury. The Stubbs Cup retained by Ranelagh but a more telling statistic, the first win for the team in blue at Happy Valley since 1975, my 4th mob match (this was my 148th).

Personally I made a big mistake in wearing flats on what became a sodden course; spikes are out of the question these days because of my Achilles' problems, but I should have put on my trail shoes. Still, it made for some amusing moments on the steeply cambered top of the valley where for every 100 metres forward I slid 10 metres down the hill! Other than that a good comfortable run with no stress. This race was about the team. Sport at its best!

* I do remember one other close mob, it was against Thames Hare & Hounds on Wimbledon Common in the early 80's. Now Thames, the oldest club in the country, are reknowned for their intellect - being the host of the annual varsity match they tend to attact the best runners from Oxbridge when they graduate into their highly paid City jobs - but ask them to sort race results from a field of 100 you have utter chaos. This particular day it was clearly close, the huddle in the corner of the tea room were clearly getting nowhere so the runners from both clubs strolled across to the Duke of Cambridge at opening time (5.30 in the old days, folks). An hour and a couple of pints later the officials came into the pub proudly announcing a close win for Thames. Ranelagh's disappointment soon turned to joy when we spotted that one of ours had been missed from the results, and so it went on ... another couple of pints, a raucous supper with the infamous stories & songs from Thames' John Bryant and our Aussie Mal Cother, the bell for last orders, yet still no-one was any the wiser. The result kept changing and in the end nobody cared. To this day I don't know who won, but what a great evening.

Winter running

What a lovely weekend in the snow. Conditions were gorgeous last Saturday, as was evident when looking out of the window at home (see pic). The previous day's snow covered the countryside, the roads were generally clear, it was bitterly cold and the sky was blue. After being warned by Claudie to take care, I wrote my name and number down on a piece of paper and popped it into a pocket in case I fell or collapsed (again Claudie rightly insisted on this as well as asking what my route was - this should be done as a matter of course as previously blogged about), I set off in the sunshine.

To non-runners it is almost impossible to explain the pleasure of the sport, but on days like this I'm reminded of why I've battled to avoid hanging up my trainers for the joys of the golf course. One of Haruki Murakami's memorable quotes, which I've used on here before, also came to mind:

"I have only a few reasons to keep on running,

and a truckload of them to quit.

All I can do is keep those few reasons nicely polished."

This was a glorious run in the delightful surroundings of Cirencester Park. Although the snow was fresh and wasn't deep, care was needed as each step crushed down on the white stuff. as a consequence my pace was even slower than usual. Since I've been back doing a modicum of training I've invariably run too fast and therefore tired very easily. Again to the non-runner this must sound bizarre but it is difficult to run slowly at times, especially when running alone. The snow forced the issue, so despite the extra effort needed underfoot I did not get fatigued at all. It was one of those all too rare days - other runners will recognise this - when running felt effortless and one could run forever.

As ever with this great sport we are always learning - in my case after nearly 45 years of trying to get it right - we all run too fast on our steady runs. Slow down!
The next day was just as bitter but cloudy instead of sunny; the snow was 24 hours older and therefore harder to run through and there was lots of dodgy ice. The park was, however, still at its majesterial best and for me there was the great bonus of bumping into two of my best running buddies, neither of whom normally run in the park on a Sunday. I therefore turned round and joined them; having done virtually all of my running alone since starting back, it was a pleasure to swap inane banter as we ran easily through the park. A very positive weekend.

Olympics and Max

Had a bit of time to kill at Paddington station on Thursday, so after checking out the sushi bar, replenishing my cash from the hole in the wall and having a surprisingly decent pint in the pub on the first floor (went in there as it was the only place around to have a 'free' pee), I strolled into the London 2012 Olympics shop. As expected it was full of absolute dross and was deserted despite a thronging buzz of humanity pervading the station concourse. Even in the unlikely event of finding something worth purchasing, I would have walked out because there was only one acceptable pay method: "we are proud to accept only Visa" proclaimed a sign near the door, enough to put anyone off. Spectators will find this when they flock to all the events in the summer (Visa & Cola being the dominant brands). What would Baron de Coubertin make of this rampant commercialism?

Some other recent headlines that make me angry that London bid and won the Olympics (my feelings have been made very clear, Paris had the infrastructure in place yet London won the bid due to politics ... wrong):

"Games venues likely to cost taxpayer millions."

"Recession blamed as Olympics fails to inspire youngsters."

"Olympic Park loses 75% of its value."

"Union chief crows about £2,500 Olympics deal for DLR drivers."

On top of all that, Cameron decides to double the budget for the pointless opening & closing ceremonies despite assurances in previous years that Britain would not try to match Beijing with wasted money and would mark these events with some prudence. So all this nonsense about China ramming their corrupt system down our throats with sick amounts of money is now being mirrored by Britain. Add in the Plastic Brits, mainly athletes who have competed for the US but realised they are not good enough so have found a way of ingratiating themselves into a GB vest at the expense of others more worthy, despite a broad American accent, then drape themselves in the union flag ... arghh! Plus the marathon not finishing in the stadium, the first time this iconic sporting moment will be lost at the Olympics, because London is embarrassed by its East End, why? Finally we have the sickening thought of an ageing David Beckham captaining the England - sorry, Great Britain - football team despite no longer being good enough to play for an English league team.

Anyway, despite all that I was mighty impressed by Mo's 1500m in Glasgow today, what an athlete thanks to Alan Storey. All the credit is going to Alberto Salazar but Farah was already on his way before they teamed up - I was in Barcelona to see him destroy the 5000m field in the Euro Champs in 2010, one of the most powerful performances I've ever seen.

Of course, if anyone does have a spare ticket - a good friend of mine this week got a call out of the blue and managed to purloin one for an evening athletics session ... for free! - I would be very happy to partake in the experience. Otherwise I'll just have to take Natalie on our annual father/daughter bonding session to a Diamond League meet somwhere in Europe - she's talking New York, I'm not!

Back on the domestic front, I attached a number to my Cirencester vest for the first time in over two years to take part in the Boxing Day 4m Challenge at Cheltenham Racecourse. It was great to meet up with some old pals - Paul Barlow, Dave Newport, Andy Prophett, Andy McCoy and a few others - as well as to trigger memories of the late 'Speedy' Pete Holmes who died so tragically at such a young age and whose name is on the trophy for the day's individual winner. Sadly, but not surprisingly, it wasn't me this year but I enjoyed pottering around and it was great to be in a mildly competitive race situation again.

After the race we spent the rest of Boxing Day with my sister Hazel and brother-in-law Max (pictured at our place) and others at their rented cottage in Whelford. We had a wonderful lunch, chatted about all sorts of issues, but mainly the state of the Euro, drank some wine, ate well and felt good about life. Two days later Max died at the age of 61. Puts into perspective all those silly little issues that we carry around with us all the time. RIP Max, I can still remember you cheering me on in the Olympic Trials Marathon in Milton Keynes in 1980 and being amazed that I then went on to party all night in St John's Wood with my Aussie mates!

Dylan

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Dylan Thomas didn't know what he was starting by penning those words. At my relatively tender age I shouldn't even be contemplating them but so many things have happened to my mind and body that there is a limit to how much fight I have in me. Pathetic really compared to some others I know, including two octogenarians who are still enjoying their running (as has been recorded on this blog), plus another friend who still runs despite the ravages of cancer. There is a limit to how much I can put up with though; my body is battered, disintegrating like a badly packed kebab.

Anyway, I've hung in there this autumn and despite my better judgement have completed and, I have to say, enjoyed, another two mob matches. Bone dry conditions clearly helped as I eased my aching body across Wimbledon Common against Thames Hare & Hounds and in Richmond Park, not chasing You Tube's famous dog Benson but as part of Ranelagh's winning team against the Heathens. I even won the handicap in the park thanks to my cunning plan of running so slowly in the last two years. Before both I ran another Parkrun in Swindon (see picture), smashing the 20 minute barrier once again!

A couple of things have caught my eye in recent weeks. Firstly, I was really interested to read in AW that top international cyclist Emma Pooley, who won the world time trial championships in 2010 and will be an integral part of the women's team for next year's Olympic road race, ran in the Lakeland Trail 14km race at Helvellyn in November. What caught my eye was that she not only won the race but she beat Susan Partridge, Britain's top marathoner in 2011 thanks to her performance in the World Championships in Daegu. That says an awful lot about the fitness levels and professionalism of British cycling right now.

Secondly, hard training sessions ... a piece in AW charted some athletes' toughest sessions; my favourite was top ultra runner Jez Bragg who cited 3 x Snowdon (yes, the highest mountain in Wales) as part of his build up to major races - that's an impressive hill session and makes my old 10 x Richmond Hill look pretty pathetic. Another set of sessions that impressed, albeit with a tinge of sadness, was that of George Dayantis: the England ultra distance international wrote about his build up to a big 100km race in a recent Road Runners Club newsletter, it involved successive long Sunday runs of 50km, 60km, 70km. The sadness is that earlier this year he died.

The nearest I got to anything like these sessions was in a Dutch race I did five times with Ranelagh. The Barendrecht 100km track relay involved a four man team each running 62 x 400m with 3½ minutes recovery (in my best year I averaged 68 seconds). We won it four times with a best time of 4hr 46m (work it out in marathon terms, it's pretty rapid). The picture shows us winning in 1982 with, from left, Simon Collingridge, me, Simon Hedger & Steve Pautard. Our record breaking team was the same apart from Mike Riley replacing Hedger; I was slightly slower than Collingridge, my flatmate at the time - so I wasn't even the fastest runner in my house! Simon, like me, has been featured in Ranelagh's "12 of the best" link which is reproduced here (more to come, including Hugh Jones hopefully): http://www.ranelagh-harriers.com/interviews.html

More soon on my thoughts on the London Olympics ... oh dear!

Give Peas a Chance

Should we be worried about education standards or should we just admire the wit of this bizarre piece of graffiti spotted adorned on a railway bridge above the M25 last weekend? I prefer to think it's the latter: having wrapped many frozen packets of the little green orbs around various parts of my broken body over the years, I've clearly not given the poor mites a chance to give pleasure on the dinner table where they belong, preferably pressed and mixed in with mashed potato alongside a nice piece of (batterless) fish.

It was on my way to a grand occasion that took me under the graffiti laden bridge. Of the four other clubs Ranelagh race every year in mob matches, Orion Harriers is much the youngest (Thames Hare & Hounds being the oldest, having been founded around 1867). Orion was founded in 1911, so are celebrating their centenary this year. Rather than the usual two teams competing, all five members of this elite club were invited to a mass mob match, with the extra celebration of sampling Orion's new clubhouse for the first time (some of us remember outside washing facilities from many years ago). Epping Forest was looking a true picture on a beautiful sunny autumnal day. More importantly, following an unseasonally warm and dry spell the usual quagmire conditions were nowhere to be seen. You cannot believe what a difference that made to an old crock like me!

As regular readers (surely there can't be any ...) will know, my training has been dire for two years now and the cumulative effect of this is really digging in, irrespective of what aches & pains are flavour of the month (for what it's worth, currently both Achilles, one shoulder and my left big toe, don't even ask, I've no idea). Having dropped Claudie off at East Midlands airport to visit her stricken mother, I took the opportunity to meet up with old friend, Andy Bradley, who lives nearby. This was just two days before the mob match so I suggested to Andy that we had a run before the far more pleasurable aspects of Derbyshire life, namely an old fashioned pub and a pint or two of Marstons Pedigree. After walking up the nearest hill from Chevin Road, we started our run on a lovely high level track looking across the Peak District, then ran down through some meadows and back alongside the River Derwent. It was a pleasant 45 minutes and gave me confidence that maybe another 'mob' was viable.

Winner and runner-up of the Chevin '5'

To the race itself: after a few team photos, speeches and traditional club cries, around 200 took to the one lap circuit through the forest. As anticipated I was able to run at a reasonable pace on the flat stretches but really struggled on the many hills. A finishing position of 73rd had very little merit other than being one of the few I've not previously managed over my 144 mobs (every position between 1 and 35 has been encountered at least once). Orion, of course, won the team race comfortably, which is at it should be. A commemorative mug and fine free tea spread was very welcome as was the beer at a local hostelry before the journey home.

Thanks to Orion's centenary I have to get my aching body through five rather than the usual four mobs this winter. Hopefully the rain will stay away all winter ...

Ed Whitlock

This man just becomes ever more amazing. Yesterday in Toronto Ed ran a 3.15.54 marathon ... he is 80 years old and broke his own world V80 record by 10 minutes, which in itself was another 15 minutes better than the previous best. Ed - seen here with me and Dutch friend Alex in Rotterdam five years ago - is a lovely self effacing character who just loves running.

I was pretty impressed to note last night that just a few hours after his great performance it had been updated to Wikipedia. Who does these things ...?

In the World Masters Championships in Sacramento, California this year Ed won the V80 1,500 by 90 seconds in 5.48; the 5,000 by 4 minutes in 21.32 and the 10,000 by 11 minutes in 42.39, all three times were world records of course.

He invariably wears his Ranelagh vest when racing even though his link with our club is relatively tenuous: he ran once or twice in the 60's before emigrating to Canada. He's come down to the club a couple of times in recent years and been royally treated. What a man!