Happy New Year

Crikey, it's nearly March and it's all gone quiet over here. Thought I'd do a race update of what has happened so far in '12 in order of toughness.

(1) Stourbridge Stagger 10 (Feb) I was looking forward to a good run but I was let down badly by ice & snow which made it treacherous (for me). Always a toughie.
(2) Tough Ten, W-S-M. (last week). A bit uninspiring, to be honest. It had all the feel of a 'big' race but never quite got out of 1st gear, a bit like me I suppose. 10 miles of which the majority was off road, either along the beach or in the woods. The woods were quite hard going up & down.
(3) Blymhill 10k MT tough, windy, lots of off road, much like Pattingham. Liked it a lot.
(3) Shifnal 10k MT Not much MT but fast finish.

next up: Cloud 9 Fell Race. Yippee!

Proper Chrimbo and a challenge.

Happy Christmas to anyone reading (ok, that is MAINLY me. I know)
Some thoughts on the Wrekin Hills Challenge:
Take several points on a trip round the Wrekin, and provided you visit them all, you knit together a very nice - and challenging - little challenge.
Starting & finishing at the gate at the foot of the main path, visit these points in any order:
Wrekin * Ercall * Lawrence Hill * Maddocks Hill * Little Hill * Willowmoor Ridge *

I'm working on the grid refs at the moment, will add them later.
Do it, record the route, record your time and join the "club" :-)

Mortimer Forest 11/12/11

I had a bad experience at MF in '09 which resulted in my damaging my ankle and being out for most of '10, leaving me fat and demotivated. I'm still a bit fat and demotivated but at least I'm running better now, though I have a problem with slippy downhills and my stud-less Walshes don't help me at all and I'm only running in them out of a misguided sense of loyalty :-)

So.. those are the excuses posted; actually Mortimer Forest '11 was a good run. Tough as ever. The first real climb is a hands& knees scramble up a muddy bank, if you don't get well up the field it's very slow progress. That is then followed by a lot of trail running which was quite muddy in places. There is a sequence of small hills near the water facility which were not a lot of fun for the weak & feeble rubbish slidey man. I was running very well on climbs, but once on the slippery stuff all bets were off and I reckon it cost me about 10 minutes. The 2nd climb was tough as usual and by High Vinalls there were lots of hands on knees. Saw my friend Colin hiding from the elements in the trees with a camera; in any other circumstances this is slightly deviant behaviour but Colin laughs in the face of convention and anyway he would have been freezin' up there. One tortuous descent through the trees later and I was on the road home but feeling not a little disappointed that I hadn't done myself justice. But on reflection I finished in good order with no aches and pains at all so I feel I've gained revenge on this tough race. What's next? new shoe investment, for sure. Thx to Al Tye for the lovely pic :-)

Gravy Pud Fell Race 4/11

It was undeniably grim yesterday. We left home early to visit Gill's mum and for me to escape to go and run the imaginitively-titled NorthernBoysLoveGravy Gravy Pud Fell Race

.

I had planned the trip to th 'Nth' degree, even going on to Google streetview to see what the road turns looked like, where the best place was for car parking etc.

This wasn't really the issue, the issue was the weather. As we approached Stockport it began to rain a little, the nearer to Tintwistle I got, the lower the temperature was and the more the rain intensified. It went dark, and the warning signs indicating whether it was safe to use the Woodhead Pass looked like they were twitching into action. I parked up safely near the village hall which was very small an

d had more of a hint of a caravan about it. I sent a text to some friends which had more than a hint of a last will & testament about it.

All the time, rain poured off the slate roofs and ran down the m

ain street. Oh, well, I'd better find the pub then.

The pub was a very pleasant little place, just off a green space/war memorial which on a summer's day would have been very lovely. But on a day like today, well I just wanted to get inside. Every one was very friendly inside, they had the fire going etc. Top stuff! There were the day's papers to have a browse through and in the corner one intrepid runner was carbo loading with a pint before the race. Which is a bit 'ard.

To the race. The start (and finish) was along a cobbled lane which took us out onto the moor. Once upon the moor there was a sharp climb on a trail and then a drop to a narrow wooded bridge. This was not good, as not having local knowledge and being a bit of a girl I lost about 20 places cos I didn't cut the corner. Grr.

I made a few back on the climb away from the stream, and normal order was resumed until the real big climb of the day which was a hands & knees scramble up to a little cairn(Lees Hill). By this time it was hailing into the rain and stinging every part of the body not covered by cloth, and even some that was.

On the grass was a sparse covering of - yes - snow. Eek! Over the top we go - and a long, fast descent which wasn't as quick as it should have been, because of the deep slippy mud that was fast becoming a feature of the run. But I got going ok, and didn't lose any places. Yet more climb, then a patch though some trees and deep, deep water puddles/mud as we dropped down to the reservoir. I was going really well here and reeled a few in. I steeled myself for the inevitable collapse as we climbed back up to the start lane but found that once I was up the climb, though the taps were full on, I was able to maintain it all the way to the finish. Not a brilliant finish position - but I'm sure the performance is a considerable improvement on recent showings. It felt good and strong.

This was a brilliant race. My only regret is not stopping for a pint, but as hypothermia was a real prospect, it was a quick jog back to the car and true warmth :)

Winter Sun

I was out on the hill today.

The sun was shining in all its Winter glory.

The dark days are now upon us and the Winter Sun is so different to her Summer counterpart. There is no warmth in the Winter sun. She wears a coat and scarf, not a dress.

Her rays are low, bright and they bleach the landscape; green is grey, grey is black, brown is black too.

The sheep are blurred and uninterested, barely lifting their heads. The wind is sharp and it cuts through you if you're daft enough to stand still.

Your ears hurt, your toes are cold and your nose runs all the time.

Even the birds say "why me?" as they look for some shelter in the bare trees.

But the holly leaves have hardened up now in time for Christmas and the Mistletoe, well yes, that looks good too. If you see a Robin, that's a welcome dash of red.

And in a few days, the nights will start drawing out again....

Little Stretton - Stiperstones Time Trial 27/11/11

We arrived in good time at Little Stretton to register for the Time Trial. Mike was convinced it was All Stretton, but as he didn't know where either villages were, that didnt seem to matter much :)

There was none of this 'register at the back of the car' nonsense as in past TTs - we went into the (tiny) Village Hall, handed over some (tiny) cash and in return got a (tiny) electronic dibber. Yahoo! TT ...in the space age.

Mike had all kit packed and ready. Waterproof, drinks, phone, entrenching tool, glasses, emergency rations etc. I felt very unprepared by comparison, but I did have a map, a strawberry chewit bar and a yearning for the great outdoors.

We got an early start time as Mike had to be back in time to go and "get his eyes tested". So, sadly... no pub. Gutted :(

We dibbed in ..and started off. All was going well, we passed the cottage - now restored and looking lovely after years of neglect - and passed the Yearlet (glad we're not going up there!) and then picked up a sheep trail. Biiiig mistake - we should have kept to the stream bed. Though it went the right way, the trail was narrow and I fell off it and down towards the stream, some 30 ft below. Aaaaagh.. thank goodness for a tree to hang on to!!

We ended up to the right-hand side of Long Synaulds and went straight up and over, following a couple of people. Mike didn't like this very much, I dont think he really likes hills. Well, not 'proper' hills, with rocks and stuff on. I was loving it, but was slightly concerned as to where we were going to come out...

...which proved to be a valid concern. We came out on the road, but for some reason instead of picking up the road on the right to Bridges we went left towards top of Pole Bank . We were only about 150m out, but I forgot how featureless it was and there was no-one else around.. We followed a path up side of Pole bank and started to descend, then we saw the traffic in the distance and I realised where we were. We'd probably taken about a 10 min detour, my fault for not concentrating but nothing in the great scheme of "We are Lost East Devon Style". Mike wanted to take the direct route back to the road rather than the path I suggested, but it would have been a hands & knees climb, he didn't see the contours. Must be the eyes...

Anyway, on to the road, then straight off the road at Shooting Box and all was going well. We detoured through the woods as usual at Bridges, and then just after the pub picked up the road towards the Hollies, where we met some runners who had gone the other way at Ratlinghope. At this time, Mike began to suffer with the climbs and so had a little walk. That was fine, it was a lovely day. We did more of a walk-run all the way up to the farm and yet more walking once we were out on the Stiperstones. It was a bit muddy , Mike was quite apologetic about keeping me waiting but I didn't mind - it was such a lovely morning, you could see for miles. We followed it with a nice & tidy - if slightly slippery - descent into Stiperstones and a steady finish. We dibbed in about 2 hours and Mike was disappointed at that but we would have comfortably beaten that if we hadn't had to detour, even though there was some walking. I did think at the time that I quite fancied making my way back to the start ON FOOT but as my car was at Stiperstones, that being surely madness of the highest order. Maybe next year :)

Passing Clouds

Another stunning 149th place,

another set of bruises,

another hour spent cleaning the shower

after the race..

Fellbound

I love the work of Fellephant
here is the brilliant "Fellbound" :)

race catch up time again

2 more races to report on:
(1) Worcestershire Beacon Race, Great Malvern 8/10/11
I first did the Worcestershire Beacon Hill race at Great Malvern about 15 years ago; it was in the first FRA fixture calendar ever, and, so the Starter said at the weekend, it was the 53rd consecutive running of the event. So a good history lesson there
The course has changed since I first took part; there used to be a lot more road running in it but now it's almost all off road, along some good trails and paths. Imagine a posher Wrekin, and you've got it (..it was from Malvern after all). I think the Beacon is about the same height as the Wrekin so it was quite runnable, pity it was so dry because with a bit of mud it would have presented a far tougher challenge
Great run, about 7-8 miles (no-one's really sure) nearly 300 finishers and unusually, a Saturday afternoon race. I went as flat out as I could but eased up a lot on the long descent to the finish. That's my version. You could of course believe I was knackered instead.

(2) My 20th consecutive Bells of Pattingham

It was a beautiful morning eventually, but chilly to begin with. An autumnal 7 degrees as I drove through Telford, and the turn off the Rabbit run seemed to come oh-so-quickly, I nearly missed it. How many years have I travelled this road?
Arrived at the school car park early and in good order, and went for the usual aimless wander round. By now it was getting a little more sunny and that lovely low white mist was receding quickly. After establishing that not much was going on in the Church Hall, I met up with Steve from NDRC and we had a nice chat while watching the junior run set off. It turns out he has also done 20 Bells, though he missed one somewhere along the way. So maybe it's not that rare, or maybe it's just the two of us!
Start time soon came around. After having made the crucial vest/t-shirt decision I wandered to the start line wondering whether wearing studs was a good idea, the ground underfoot was as hard as nails. I met with Bernie and a couple of other Newport runners and also a couple of lads from the Harriers. One chap pointed out the huge number of Sloes on the hedge next to the start and I though maybe I could come back under cover of darkness? Um ok, maybe no, that might be construed as trespass.
I decided to see what life was like at the front of the race, and so took a spot in the 2nd line. I had toyed with the idea of going to the back but this seemed like a daft idea and was quickly shelved. I also wanted to test out my theory of 'if you get a good start it makes a real difference'. What I failed to realise, however, was that it's one thing being handily placed at the start but actually getting away properly is another thing entirely. When the hooter went, whoosh! everyone ran past me leaving me floundering in the weeds. So much for that idea then, by the time I got to the bottleneck at the bottom I was almost walking again.
The first couple of miles were quite hard, picking my way through slower runners and feeling quite tired in my legs, perhaps a better warm-up (or indeed a warm up at all) would have been a good idea. By the time we got to the sharp climb by the house I was chugging a bit, progress was slow and steady. Perhaps I had put too much in too early? The houseowners had relaid the drive with shingles, definitely shades of the Grizzly there. Crunch, crunch.
Once over the climb though, things were going swimmingly well. Running was easy and I was picking off quite a few. By the farm / drinks station at halfway, the Sun was fully out and it had the feel of a lazy Summer's evening. I stopped and had a refresing drinky, pouring the rest over me for a cold shower (!) before I set off again. By the time we got to the house and steep drop, I was in the zone a bit but began to focus on miles left which perhaps wasn't a good idea. I slowed a bit going down the hill, but then I focused on a lady runner who seemed to be motoring a bit so I tucked in with her up to mile 5. This did me the power of good, I felt the best I have felt perhaps all year for this short while!
We skirted the woods 5-6ml and instead of turning left up the big climb, and over the two fields to home it was straight on to the road but then sharp left go along the edge of the two fields next to the road. It was a pretty steady climb and I was glad to get it over. I refused to sprint the last bit. I was very pleased with my finishing time and probably could have squeezed a bit more out if pushed, I felt good at the end. Nice to feel my racing legs coming back.
Cake was slightly disappointing but welcome. Looked at the commemorative t-shirts, but it wasn't worth purchasing more evidence of my 20/20. But the horse brass is nice.

Race Updates

couple of brief updates along my trail ..

7/9 - Madeley Matchmaker 5km. Dark, gloomy, slightly wet run round the outskirts of Madeley and Woodside. My own 20th anniversary 'cuz this is where it all started. Nothing major to report other than (1) impressed with the size of the field (200+ ?) and (2) its year zero again - i'm back on the long road to recovery ( which now seems a longer road than ever :0) )
11/9 - Goodrich 10k . Nice loopy thing round Coven near Wolverhampton. Not a great time for me, fairly close to my personal worst for 10k although in mitigation m'lud it has been a few years since the last race at this distance.

Easy..like a Sunday morning..

Late to rise, and I knew I had to back in time for Mo's brilliant 5km win :) so a climb up and over the Ercall Hill was in order. It's steep enough to get the heart pumping but not too long to count as "a day out in the hills" :) There werent too many folks about; Telford is still asleep, or watching Sunday Kitchen, or out at a car booty or maybe doing a bit of XBoxing. Saw a young couple out walking toy dogs and a bloke with some psycho beast on a lead, but little else until I got to the golf course. It looked like the Hash have been out in the Limekiln woods again, I spied the familiar sawdust marks and then noticed that there had also been some coppicing going on, trees and sawdust all over the path - heh heh that'll confuse the hash house harriers, and that's before the beer takes hold :) I then had a strange encounter with a tooled-up platoon of elderly ramblers which I won't go into here, and then it was just a question of dodging the bad golfers and cruising home past the cricket game on the Bowring Rec. Easy, like a Sunday morning.

Random Thought Generator

Watched thoroughly enjoyable IAU World Trail Champs on C4 at weekend. The Canadian runner impressed me with how he manages to blank things out of his mind during a run - he gets in a "running trance". I tried something similar today. Anything to take my mind off sore legs and a never-ending climb. When you are trying to keep thoughts out, it's amazing what random thoughts actually do pop in and out. I tried my hardest to keep all of them out, Apart from one. What does your favourite soup taste like then?

Slack.

Whoops- been a bit slack recently. Holidays have contributed. They were nice though:). Anyway, back to t'hills and this morning I tackled a loop of the Wrekin and a climb of the Stompers' spiritual home, the Ercall. The old legs began to suffer on the descent back to Wellington but I got back in good order. Lovin' it :)
Anyhow, the picture somes up agony & ectasy of doing hills. Dave is clearly wishing he was somewhere else, while Andy only needs a skipping rope and his run is complete :-) (pics by Al Tye - thanks for the wonderful service you provide to runners )

Friends of the Wrekin

big up for this website it tells it like it is regarding the Wrekin hill :)

Road running

It gets a bad press as not being as sexy as the hills, but done properly, it's hard. As much as I like mountains, hills etc. You need to run paths and roads to get a sustained level of pace for a decent amount of time. So I'm on a sabbatical while I build up some road miles. In August heat, this is hard work.

The Ghost Runner

Is the title of a new book by Bill Jones about John Tarrant. Tarrant was a famous runner of the 50s-70s who fell foul of the authorities for owning up to earning £17 from boxing as a young man. Because of this 'crime' he was firstly banned from officially taking part in road races and later on banned from representing GB or even competing abroad. He dealt with these obstacles by jumping into races at the start and competing without a number - hence 'ghost runner'. He became best known for ultra races though he won many smaller ones up and down the country.
It's a 'warts and all' book which recognises that although there was great injustice done to Tarrant, he became very bitter and obsessed with his cause and his wife, family and friends didn't get an easy ride.
It is a good read though in that it paints a vivid picture of post-war Britain, dealing with social, working and sporting lives. It also details the effort Tarrant put into his running and the pain he endured, pain which ultimately he succumbed to after losing his stomach to cancer.
And... it made me want to go out and put my trainers on..

edit: spotted this on the RW Forum. I hope John Shepherd doesn't mind me reproducing it here. I thought I'd keep a copy in case it got lost.

Early in adolescence I read about 'the ghost runner' in the News Chronicle. He became my hero. As a runner I had two battles with him in 1967. In the South London 30 I overtook him to take 2nd place at about 14 miles. "Who is that man?" he asked my club mate, Bill Pluck, who was running with him. "Is he any good?" On hearing that I might win the race he took off after me like a hare and went storming past at an unsustainable pace. By 20 miles I had pulled him back to just 10 yards, the early leader having dropped away but on a hill John pulled away to win easily. I staggered in 7th.
In the London to Brighton a group of about 8 of us shared 2nd place for the first 15 miles. Some Swiss guy we'd never heard of had the early lead. As we passed Vic Tarrant, parked by the side of the road John barked at him "Who is this guy? Is he any good?" Two miles later when we passed Vic again he was sitting in the back of his mini flipping through a deep pile of athletics literature trying hard to satisfy John's request. Another couple of miles and Vic was able to say 'he's done 4 minutes twenty for the 1500 metres'. 'I don't care what he's done for 1500 metres. What's he done for the marathon?' Eventually John's usual impatience got the better of him and he set off after the Swiss guy taking a minute out of us in about a mile which he must have covered in just 5 minutes. Eventually John won and I was 20th. Within the borders of Brighton John got his familiar stomache problems and just stepped on to the grass verge and lowered his shorts. Afterwards he told me when he thought about what he had done he was shocked but at the time he was dazed like in a trance.
John could get into a trance like state in his races. In one race, I think it was the Woodford to Southend there was a roundabout towards the end at which one had to make a right turn. Exhausted and confused Joh made a 180 degree turn and started going back the way he had come. Despite the intervention of other runners, nothing could persuade John that he was going the wrong way and he just kept going back the way he had come.
He was a great character. I regret that I never told him that he had been one of my childhood heroes. John was a bit too honest and blunt for his own good. The sport is a lot poorer as a result of his early death. John Shepherd

The Tartinator

Met up with our old friend Colin "Tartinator" Tart the other day. He hasn't changed, even though he's not as well as he would like to be at the moment. We swapped lots of stories about the old days. The word "Legend" is often overused but for this man, it's entirely appropriate.

east devon way relay 2011

East Devon Way Relay - aka - 3 Thickos from Telford on tour.

there are lots of pics on my Picasa site


Dave and Mike had done the Grizzly; Dave and I had done the Exe to Axe as a duo, back in April. It seemed not unreasonable, we said to ourselves on our way home from Seaton , that we should go for the Triple Crown and have a go at this East Devon Way thing. After all, we could rope others in and make a great day out in the South West...couldn't we?
...several potential candidates refused to commit. Others just turned us down flatly. Others would cross the street rather than talk to us. People would point. Things were looking bleak as the months dragged by. Even Mike was a doubt. Could we do it as a duo? I was thinking that 20 + miles was a long way, presumably Dave much the same. Then Mike committed. We were on..

..Flash forward to July...

We'd made record time from Shropshire in the pouring rain, arrived early and because it was all quiet ("Ah, yes. The solo runners must have set off by now") we repaired to the Cafe by the marina for coffee, toast and a last-minute tactical talk. We returned to the wind-blown, rain-sodden car park to find that little had changed. Ok, so there were a few runners and a fluorescent vest. That'll be Chris then.
Dave ran over to say "Hi we're here" and the other two of us ran off in the direction of the loo, slightly concerned. On our return to the car, some chilling news.

"There are eight teams". "EIGHT?" "Yes, eight." "oh, B*llocks".

At this point Mike, down to run legs 9 and 10, supposedly tricky according to the blurb, declared he hadn't got to the Leg 9 instructions yet, he was more concerned about not making it past leg 6. There's confidence for you. We considered things we would rather be doing, such as re-indexing my paintbrush collection, sorting out that box of screws in the shed, etc etc. But there was no putting it off.
As start time approached, we looked to Chris for some inspiration and words of wisdom. He said that it was all waymarked - and with arrows - and that we should be fine. Now its not that we're inexperienced or anything; For goodness' sake we're 174 years old between the 3 of us, with many marathons, triathlons, big fell runs etc etc. We know our way around, we shouldnt be worried. But it was safe to say.. we were worried.

I looked round. Assessing the situation, I then came out with the prophetic, chilling statement

"there are 8 teams in this event. We will finish 8th. A distant 8th.."

But not to worry, we are hardy men from the Wrekin and Ercall. Though actually Dave is from somewhere else, and as you mention it, so is Mike.

Leg 1 & 2
I (slightly self-consciously) began our lonely odyessy. Into the teeth of a gale and with driving rain, it wasn't fun, but I thought I could keep up for at least a while. This 'while' lasted about a couple of miles as I twisted my ankle a bit, but thankfully (or regrettably, depending on your view) it wasnt a show stopper. The main group got away (this being the last we would ever see of them) and shortly after that, I got lost. I suspect these two incidents are connected.
Actually two of us got lost - me and Emma from the Bude Tri team, who was following me. We circled the village twice, each time saying hello to the man with the dog. We were at a total loss. He was laughing. We weren't. Luckily, I had the satellite map with me, and I knew there was a significant landmark on it. We went back to the man with the dog and past him to another man who kindly showed us how to get to A La Ronde. It was a tortuous up hill, down dale, over stile route though as we were well off course, but with the help of another couple of chaps we got going again. I was going ok by this time, but decided to hang back with Emma as we were kind of lost together (...though she did say she had recced the route beforehand... ). This seemed to work well, until she said she was changing over at leg 1b and their next runner sped off into the distance leaving me to labour on up the hill alone. Drat, I should have seen that one coming..
On to Leg 2 feeling less than great and it was, to be fair, a spectacular route through the quarry and up onto the moor. It reminded me of a cross between Cannock Chase and the North York Moors. Once again though I made a basic error, once again interpreting a blue arrow as "don't go this way" ..which left me doing a really tortuous climb twice. Ouch. Across the top of the moor and I was taking 10 minutes per sentence on the instructions, but there was only one path to follow. I was bushed by now though, and the final climb up at Hawkerland seemed to take an eternity. Where's the road? But I did it. Thanks, Chris for waiting..

Leg 3 & 4
Dave sprinted off; I thought "this won't last long" and sure enough, before long, Dave got lost. Where? blowed if I know. Or him, for that matter. He ended up knocking on the door of a B&B and asking for directions. He was asked by the proprietor "not to wake the sleeping baby". He must have been loud then, it must have been his sobbing. Anyhow, we had driven up to White Cross to wait for him. Up on the ridge, behind the rotten waymarker post hidden in the undergrowth (you didnt need to do that chaps, it was hard enough), it resembled a cold February day, and even the view couldn't compensate. We got there in time to see the Bude girls off, and then we waited..waited..waited...as Dave made the long climb. Mike kept warm by stretchng and pretending things would be ok now. Haha. We realised we were going to be so far behind everyone else we hatched a cunning plan, which was from 7 & 8 we were just going to run the legs when we arrived at the start, take our times and add it all up later. We had seen this system in action at the Welsh Castles Relay and well, it worked there so why not? That way, we would (a) do the whole route without cheating and (b) make sure Chris was home in good time. Good plan, perhaps the only logical thought of the day..Dave arrived, even worser for wear than expected after a later collision with a gate post. No, honest, he pointed the bruise out in the pub later. Off Mike went..

Leg 5&6
We dashed along to the end of leg 6/ start of leg 7 to see our Bude chums already there and waiting. It was by a farm entrance and near a busy road so care was necessary. Dave had a plan to go off just after the Bude ladies (".. to be fair to them.." ) then I would wait for Mike and we would then get over to Colyton for the "notorious leg 9". I began to get worried that Mike would not get in before Dave had finished leg 8, but he came in looking tired but ok. Well, sort of. It was a rare "we didn't get lost" leg but he did say he had been assaulted by a heifer and as a result had had an unfortunate encounter with an electric fence. Ouch. He also mentioned that there was a climb in there not unlike Mortimer Forest near Ludlow. Ooh, that's got to hurt..

Leg 7&8
Meanwhile, Dave was desperately trying to catch those Bude ladies. And, to be honest, failing. He got lost in the woods, amidst the mud and the deep tracks. It was his 'trench madness' period. He went round and round before finding the right way, and even then he wasn't convinced. In his words, it bacame a "War of attrition".
Mike and I managed to achieve that rare thing of getting lost on the CAR journey into Colyton, but some nifty map-reading meant we retrieved the situation without too much damage and we were there on time. After making sure he was fully recovered, I let Mike go out on Leg 9, making a careful note of the time again. I had offered to do 9 & 10 myself to let him rest up a bit. (Bet you wish you'd taken me up on that now, eh Mikey?) . Our 'official' stop watch had stopped, presumably traumatised by all of this drama, but more likely because I had sat on it in the car.
He's coming!! About 3/4 mile away across the field in the distance I saw a small red speck approach, in the style of the film "Lawrence of Arabia"... closer, closer until Dave got to the fence ..and bent double with hands on his knees. He refused to use the gate, claiming he could "climb the fence". One failed attempt later ...and yes, he was using the gate. We sped off to the start of leg 11 while Mike was "somewhere out there in the jungle".

Leg 9& 10
Oh yes...this proved to be every bit as bad as Mike had feared. He was lost, so lost he was actually drifting off the satellite map and on his way back to Exmouth, though he didn't know it. He went back on his route 3 times without success. He asked a farmer for directions, he then in desperation took a leaf out of Dave's book and knocked on a B&B door, alerting Killer the Dog in the process. Turning down the offer of a room for the night, he eventually made it to Musbury, but whether he was in one piece any more was open to debate..

Leg 11& 12
While this drama was unfolding, I decided to at least try and end the race in style. After logging my start time I set off at a reasonable rate and felt ok, making Uplyme village in good time and even considering a stop off at the pub (there was a music festival going on) But then it all began to unravel again. I missed a turn near the Old Mill and found myself going up a hill in the wrong direction, along a footpath (in the wrong direction) along another path (yes, in the wrong direction) where I tried to ask for directions but ended up in a protracted conversation about "was the Grizzly on today?" (those Grizzly numbers!!!!) before being turned 180 degrees and making it back to the mill - and on to Dragon's Hill, where I realised the Bude posse had once again gone past, their runner was right at the top of the hill. On tired legs this was a stiff climb, And no, sorry but I didn't stop to admire the view at the top...
Steep downhill, crossing a couple of fields and I was fine all the way into Lyme Regis and the run along the prom was lovely too - even if I did mistake a small child in the distance (wearing a fluorescent top) for the finish line. Suddenly, it was all over. We were in.
Dave and Mike appeared shortly afterwards to share the horror stories. We retired to some well-earned refreshments in the pub, and the local chippie before making the long journey back home. Great days. !!

exe to axe 2011

the first official entry by an Ercall Stompers team. We entered this race off the back of some serious pub talk and Dave's adventures at the Grizzly Cub run. We must be fecking mad.
We left home at 5am and quickly ran into trouble on the motorway as roadworks made us detour through Wolverhampton. Yay that's a party town on a Sunday morning!
Apart from that it was a pretty uneventful ride down to Devon and we were there at about 8.30am. We parked up, said "hi" to the organiser chappie and then went in search of breakfast. Well, I did anyway, and I ended up stuffing my face with a bacon butty while Dave made do with the breakfast of champions, a cup of tea.
During the next hour Dave carefully got his mojo together and so took his place on the start line, waiting for the vuvuzela to be sounded to start the race..
..and so off he went on leg 1 of thei 20 mile/4000ft epic. Dave's bit was essentially flat and mine, well, wasn't. I took his car to Budleigh and waited for him to complete the first 4 miles, he seemed ok apart from stripping off his t-shirt for the camera .

He was soon off and running again while I dashed over to Sidmouth. Apparently there was a hill between the two, ok it did look like a fair old beast. I got to Sidmouth in good time, parked up and waited...by this time the runners were well spread but Dave eventually turned up in good shape, sprinting past the dummy in a diving suit that marked the finish line
After passing him my bag, camera etc, telling him where the car was, trying to tell the race recorder we were doing a relay I was off up Salcombe Hill. Climb, climb climb. And then I got to the first of the steps. Oh I was really cussing Dave by now as I struggled up. I managed to reel in a few 20-milers but my overall feeling was that I wished I had done some proper training, my legs were very quickly shot. Ouchy ouch. A particular nightmare was Weston Mouth - descent to the beach, climb back up the cliffs. Whats the point of that? By now I was on my own and worried I would get lost but the route was great, taking us along cliff tops where you could see the mist rising over your toes - this was magical. Eventually after what seemed like an age (it was) I rolled into Branscombe and after a drink (nice) and some jelly babies (made me cough)
I was off again up the climb towards Beer. As I approached Beer I could see Seaton in the distance. This had the double effect of cheering me up (seeing the finish) and depressing me (seeing how far away it was). But never mind. I managed to keep my aching bones going for one last push along the prom and pretty soon all was well, Dave was there to cheer me in and we got 7th place overall.

A couple of pints later in the pub and we were ready for the next adventure..

Brr!

Just thought I'd share this Pic I took recently with you all. It looks like it ought to be somewhere much much colder than the top of the Wrekin at Christmas. Click on it to get a bigger version. Brr!