Belvoir Challenge 2013 - 26 Miles - A Popular Event!

 

"...........and Belvoir's lordly terraces

The sign to Lincoln sent

And Lincoln sped the message

on o'er the wide Vale of Trent"

A poem about Lincoln's contribution to signals about the Spanish Armada by Lord Macaulay (1832) seen on the cain on the right.  

 

I had heard about the legend that is the Belvoir Challenge but I was staggered by the popularity of the event. I've run countless off road marathons but I'm used to perhaps a couple of hundred people turning up to take part. The Belvoir Challenge must have attracted close to 1000 entrants. I've uploaded a video here which illustrates the numbers of hardy souls that turned out on a crisp February morning to run 15 or 26 miles depending on their preference. I plumbed for the long route which ran across the beautiful Vale of Belvoir from Harby to Scalford - Waltham - Croxton Kerrial - Harston - Woolsthorpe - Belvoir Castle and back along the escarpment which includes the highest point in Leicestershire, Beacon Hill.   

 

 

 

I lost the mental battle with this race before the race had begun. I Felt slightly jaded after a big effort in Stamford the preceding week followed by some "balls out" track work the previous Wednesday evening. When I returned home from work on Friday feeling a bit "coldy" I questioned whether it would be counter productive to travel to Harby and take part. In the end I decided to run but without any race pressure I would just have a gentle plod round and to try and enjoy the course. Five miles in, I was reminded that it isn't really possible to run a marathon easily, whatever the pace, its always hard. I was well off my usual pace but that happened by default rather than me keeping to a consious decision. It was however good to have left the busyness of the start behind and to have found the great outdoors in which to find space to run.

 

Gathering at the start

 

 

At around the five mile mark the two routes split. The 15 mile route seemed the most popular and I was bit sorry that I hadn't chosen the shorter course. The event was run in cold conditions and I was looking forward to some momentary warmth at the first checkpoint in Scalford village hall. Sadly the checkpoint was in the car park. I paused to eat cake and drink water. The water was too cold to drink easily but I made sure I ate and drank plenty. I had decided to run without a bag today and used a strategy of dwelling at each checkpoint longer than usual to gain fuel instead of carrying my own. 

 

We ran on towards Croxton. I was still feeling heavy and sluggish, very similar to how I felt during the Round Rotherham last year. Somewhere between Waltham and Croxton the route runs adjacent to some horse gallops. The ground was more forgiving, the hard frozen field tracks gave way to a more dusty track. I was able to extend my pace a bit during this section. It was the only part of the event where I felt mildy usual and as a consequence my mood picked up. 

 

 

 

Just before Croxton the path joins the route of the Ponton Plod. The Ponton Plod is an excellent event which takes place in September. The events are similar but I doubt the Plod would attract near to a thousand entrants! As I ran along a particularly technical track I heard the cries of someone up ahead. I might have been concerned on another day but I knew I was approaching the tricky little turn through the hedge which people often miss on the Plod. As I approached the gap I looked ahead to see runners in front coming back to me. As predicted, they had run straight on up the track missing the gap in the hedge. I learned at the finish that some of the front runners had run ahead by as much as a mile before turning back. 

 

The checkpoint at Croxton Kerrial was again well stocked with food but it was also in the car park. I was cold, my slower than usual pace contributing to the misery. The checkpoint marshall helpfully told me that he had encountered a couple of bulls in "the top field" when setting up the course the day before but they hadn't bothered him.  I picked up the pace again on the way to Woolsthorpe. I knew this part of the route and that, coupled with my body temperature and the threat of bulls in the top field, gave me an incentive to run faster. The route from Harston to the Woolsthorpe - Denton road took longer than expected and I was grateful to approach the surprise view that leads down a sharp grassy incline to the checkpoint at Woolsthorpe by Belvoir. From the top of the incline you can see out for miles across Leicstershire and Nottinghamshire. The view is only interrupted by the grandeur of the imposing Belvoir Castle which sits proudly on a hill in the foreground. 

 

Fuel

 

 

I was still struggling and experiencing a bit of stomach pressure which was relieved by a trip into the village hall - momentary warmth at last! More cake and banana was stuffed down the hatch. It was so cold that the banana had no taste, it was like a soft block of ice but it provided much needed fuel nonetheless. The fuel took a while to kick for I had to walk a fair bit of the incline up the field and track towards the castle. I was grateful to reach the road and shuffled on past a Stafford Harrier whom I had seen earlier in the day. The route now crosses a long field before rising to the escarpment. The escarpment is grand, it rises off the flat plane of Leicstershire and forms a cliff that extends for miles. We ran across top of the escarpmment all the way to the descent to Stathern.    

 

Mid way along the escarpment is the final checkpoint. Food was again plentiful and I wished I had more time to dwell. I stuffed more cake down and set off for the final push. Tracy had come out to support and reminded me that there was only 4.5 miles left. I was surprised but grateful, I thought the finish was at least 6 miles further on.

 

Friendly volunteers look out for runners.

The track along the escarpment runs through a wood of tall mature tress. Somewhere along the track we came up against piles of rocks blocking the path. The rocks were piled about 4 feet in height and extended down the track as far as the eye could see. I was a bit disappointed. Tracy's good news had given me a bit of impetuous. I had gradually found a pace and rhythm but now it was interrupted as I staggered and picked my way through the adjacent piles of rocks. Thankfully when the rocks ended the path returned and then followed the welcome descent to Stathern. I knew it wasn't far after Stathern to the finish at Harby but I was concerned that a runner behind was gaining on me. I stole through the village streets and out into the fields at the other side. As I passed through a stile in a field near to the finish the route turned sharply right. I could see a runner ahead that had gone straight on, he was coming back to rejoin the track and I thought how dejected he must have been to have taken a wrong turn so close to the finish. 

 

Eventually I could see the wonderful sight of the buildings on the outer reaches of the village of Harby. I picked up the pace through the village and was glad to finish in a time of 3:45:27.I was surprised, given the way I had felt during the run, to have returned in 16th place.    

 

Weary legs

The festivities began. Soup first, chicken or tomato, tea, tea and more tea. Spotted Dick with custard or a choice of other similarly tempting sweet delights, more tea and more tea. The village hall was buzzing with tales of the event and there were press cuttings on the walls which illustrated the history of this popular event. I'll come back to the Belvoir Challenge, the event was very well organised and supported by a cast of friendly marshalls. The route had been well thought out across some of the best bits of the Vale of Belvoir and across mostly runnable terrain with surprisingly little road. On reflection, the cold had done me a favour, the ground was frozen solid and on another cooler, wetter day, I suspect the mud would have provided a special Belvoir Challenge all of its own.     

         
    

Stamford St Valentine's 30K

Go!

The St Valentine's 30k was to be a good test of my progress in pursuit of a sub three hour marathon. Training has been going generally well although I do seem to be thrashing through hard runs followed by longer periods of rest rather than doing steady constant higher mileage. The Valentine's race is pretty tough, involving undulations some of which are steep enough to be called hills. I've run this race twice before. The distance is unusual, not short enough to really hammer it but not long enough to use the excuse of needing to run a steady, progressive pace.

 

It was a beautiful day for running with bright sunshine that had come to interupt the gloom of winter and remind us that better, spring like weather isn't far away. I set off from the housing estate adjacent to Queen Eleanor School in Stamford at a pace some way short of threshold and questioned through the first 10k whether I had gone off too fast. Not going off too fast is a golden rule of long distance running but it can also be used as good excuse on days when you not feeling particularly fit. "I'm not running slowly, I've just decided not to go of to fast".

 

At about 10k I was overtaken by a big pack of runners. I was surprised. By that point I was fairly well placed in the field and the runners in front were spread out in the distance. The pack of perhaps 7 runners engulfed me and it reminded me of various time during the London marathon when I have been on sub three hour pace and then the runner's world sub three hour pacing group (of hundreds) comes breezing past. It usually happens at a point when you are feeling low, slowing down and then you have to face the reality as you watch the swarm disappear in the distance that your sub 3 hour dream is fading fast.

 

At the Stamford race I journied on undeterred. I knew I'd put in a bit of training and when the usual thoughts of slowing down crossed my mind I was able to knock them into touch, keen to press ahead and give myself a decent test. The race route quickly leaves the housing estate to enter country lanes which pass between typical Lincolnshire agricultural fields. Most of the route is exposed but last week there was only a gentle breeze with occasional stronger gusts. The sun continued to shine brightly. It was a good invigorating day to race.

 

I passed through half way at 15K beginning to feel a bit tired and finding the thoughts to slow down harder to dismiss. The time on the clock at the side of the road was 1 hour 02 minutes. I did a bit of maths and came to the conclusion that I was almost 10 miles in and 1:02 was a respectable time. I needed that bit of encouragement, it came just at the right time. It was a good race time to defend during the second half of the race meaning that the negative thoughts would have to be withdrawn for a little while longer.

 

Keith can laugh about it now whilst Arthur reflects on the madness of it all.

 

 

By 20K I was pretty shot. I noticed that my pace had dropped considerably and I had a quandary with myself about whether to interrupt my pace and rhythm to get some food out of the zip pocket in the back of my shorts. I'd taken a handful of dried prunes with with me and against my better nature, a gel. I decided to hold off. I would use use the food as a treat at 25k instead.

 

Just before 25K I was overtaken for the first time in ages and that sealed the conclusion that it was time to eat. I shuffled the zip, retrieved the gel and swallowed it without much discomfort. I then grabbed a small handful of prunes and stuffed them into my mouth. The prunes weren't very chewable given that my mouth generally needed to be kept open to ensure that I could continue to gasp air which had been the theme of the previous 15k. I was grateful to see a "drinks stop ahead" sign and I was soon able to down a mouthful of water to aid the "prunes down the hatch" process. 

 

My minor food eating obstacle was through. I'd been slowed a bit but it would be worth it when the energy kicked in or the when the psychological effect that the energy was kicking in - kicked in - if you know what I mean?  I was encouraged and pressed on through the final 5K.

Scott Jones finishes his longest race so far.

 

 

The last part of this race in common with other similar races is that it goes on forever. Runners come back into the housing estate and there appears to follow turn after turn. With every turn I was staring longingly ahead through the curve of the bend to try and get a first glimpse of the school that would signify the finish. Eventually, after what seemed like a terrible succession of maze like turns I caught the first glimpse of the finish. I don't remember ever being so pleased to get to school. 

 

The race finishes in the school grounds but first there is the long slog around the playing field to negotiate. The organisers know how to kick a man when he's down. I was down by now. I laid it all out last Sunday and the uneven ground and longish, softish grass was just what I could have done without. I had tussled with another competitor overtaking each other at least three times during the course. I knew he was just behind so I had no choice but to keep up the pace and for the last time dismiss another thought to slow down. I was thrilled to see the race clock at 2:05 which I was fairly confident was a PB on the course. The race results confirmed a time of 2:05:03 (46th) comparable to  2:11:57 (92nd) in 2011 and 2:06:56 (62nd) in 2010. I was happy with my time even if the conditions were ideal.

 

More senseless punishment...

 

 

So what of the sub three hour marathon? With a pinch of salt I've put the time above into a few online marathon predictors and there are a range of results which predict I'll run between 2:57 and 3:01. So I have a chance, albeit a slim one and everything has to go right between now and the 21st April.

 

The Valentine's 30k is to be recommmended for a fair fee you can expect a good organised race through a testing course which provides excellent training for a spring marathon. A highlight is the good quality long sleeved t-shirt which always seems to fit well and it washes well too even If I do say so myself... 

Caythorpe Dash 2013 - Windy, Wet and Plenty of Mud

The Caythorpe Dash is a friendly, off-road half marathon now organised by the Parish Council. It cost £20 to enter the event which in my view is a bit steep. That said, I did have the opportunity to enter in advance for a £5 reduction. Races generally seem to be getting more expensive which is a shame if it deters entrants. I suppose the bottom line is that we have a choice. I exercised mine by handing over the entry fee so that I could punish myself through 13 miles of cold, wet, muddy Lincolnshire territory, there's never any sense involved in these decisions. 

 

Race Route

 

 

Snow had been forecast to coincide with the start of the race but at 11am in the quaint village of Caythorpe, Lincolnshire only rain fell from the sky. It was cold and wet, the kind of wet that hangs in the air all day. I've run this event under its previous banner, "the Caythopre Canter" today's event was run across a slightly amended version of the previous route. There was a low key race start after which perhaps 150 or so runners set off from Caythorpe through Stubton, Gelston, Hough and back to Caythorpe. 

 

I started at a reasonable pace in the knowledge that the second half of this event is harder than the first. I watched as Stuart Sinclair, another Grantham runner shot off in the distance. My legs felt a bit heavy and lazy after a long training run the previous Thursday but the legs improved as the race progressed. Most of this route crosses rough tractor tracks and ploughed fields. The tyre trods on the tractor tracks which run parallel with each other were very muddy and the raised grassy part in between was similarly slippy. There is a skill to be used on these events in looking ahead to see the least muddy line whilst at the same time concentrating on your next footplant. Generally I preferred to take the route of the runner in front. 

 

Leaving Caythorpe

 

 

By Stubton my initial laziness was gone and I started to pass runners in front. At an extended section I could see perhaps six or seven runners and it seemed ambitious to try and pass all of them but the theme of today's race was that I felt steadily stronger as the race progressed. On the way to Gelston there was a nightmare of a hill. The track rose steadily at an incline which on a better day would have tested my ability to keep running. Today it was a quagmire of ploughed mud. Every step forward meant either a slip back or a slip to the side. The clods of mud gathered like a snowball around each foot.  Again I watched my companions in front in the hope that they had picked the best line. I managed to pass another on the incline but only because the runner had come to an unintended stop ankle deep in the sludge. 

 

I was more than grateful to reach the top and emerge in the village of Gelston. It was good to see Tracy,  I wearily asked where I was, "Gelston" was the answer. I was non the wiser, I should have know better than to ask where I was in a place that I don't know. I was later to learn that as I wrestled up the nightmare hill, Stuart Sinclair who had sped off earlier was wrestling a dog a few minutes in front. The dog had emerged from a yard and run alongside Stuart before turning on him. Thankfully the K9 had gone by the time that I passed the same place a few minutes later and Stuart escaped injury. 

 

Top O''Th' Hill

From Gelston a short section follows to Hough. The route continues to climb but along a more respectable path and a less severe incline. There was a gaggle of spectators in the village. I refused water, keen to hit the last section as hard as I could. The route crosses a grave yard. In more later news I was to learn that first placing Alan Oliver of Sleaford Striders (and last week's winner of the Rauceby Ripper) took a wrong turn after the church yard and ran a fair way in the wrong direction off the course. The "diversion" cost him the race win, I understand that he was a fair way in front at the time when he went the wrong way. Alan was understandably knarked off when I spoke to him at the finish. A consequence of having the talent to lead is that you can't follow those in front which can be a big handicap on these rural events.         

 

I ran on down the slippery cobblestones towards the even more slippery wooden bridge. I had just passed two more Sleaford runners and as I ran off the wooden bridge I heard someone come to grief behind. One of the runners that I just overtaken slid clean off the wooden bridge. The bridge had no sides and he duly ended up in the stream! A quick query back confirmed that the runner was ok. As I glanced behind I got a momentary picture of the runner scrambling back on to the bridge which now seems funny (because I know he was alright). 

 

Stuart and I

I had by now passed my intended targets. There was about two miles left to run up another gradual grassy incline back to Caythorpe. I hadn't expected to see anyone else up in front and I was surprised when I glanced ahead and saw the familiar green strip of Grantham Running Club. It was Stuart Sinclair and sadly he'd blown up. Stuart was a fair way in front and I doubted that I'd catch him but  Stuart's was having a bad day, first the dog and now a blow up with less than a mile to go. I passed and offered as much encouragement as my laboured breath would allow. We crossed the final muddy field and I was grateful to reach the first tarmac road in Caythorpe. The final climb had taken it out of me and I hoped the route back through the village would be short. A few twists and turns and a shuttle down a passageway bought me to the final stretch to the finish. I think I finshed fifth (time and position tbc) and I collected a medal before greeting Stuart. I was grateful to finish today, I think we all were The race had been run in tough underfoot conditions requiring endurance rather than speed.

 

Any bad taste of the entry fee was off set to some extent by the excellent tasting food. Runners had the option of two delicious home made soups. I had carrot and corriander. Followed by Lincolnshire sausages served hot dog style with or without onions. Finally there was bread and butter pudding with custard, apple crumble or tart. The bread and butter pudding went down a treat. There were showers in the village hall which are always welcome and especially so today given the conditions. I chatted to the race winner, an American Air forceman based in the UK. Other Grantham runners returned to take part in the post race fun all grateful to be away from the cold outdoor conditions.     

                


       

Rauceby Ripper - A Lost Sole

"I blew the soles off my feet"
Kyle Scaggs after setting the record for the 2008 Hardrock 100

"The sole came off my shoe"
Paul Rushworth after staggering round the 2013 Rauceby Ripper.  




Rauceby Ripper Route 2013

Sadly my lost sole was more to do with inappropriate choice of footwear rather than a super human performance. 7 miles into the 8 mile Rauceby Ripper race, the sole of my show came clean off leaving me to run to the finish Barefoot Ted style.

 

The day started well, bright sunshine flooded into the bedroom as the curtains were pulled back. The vaguely predicted snow forecast for Lincolnshire seemed unlikely to arrive. I had decide to cycle the ten or so miles to Rauceby and I had prepared the bike the previous evening. It was cold as I left the house just after 9am. By the time I arrived at the top of the hill in Londonthorpe I was too hot and needing to remove layers. There were some good view across the agricultural flatlands. The sun continued to shine brightly and other than the cold which was making my toes feel like blocks of ice I was looking forward to the race.

 

An advantage of cycling to a race start is that you arrive warmed up. Just after I arrived the race field that had been milling within the village hall left to wander down to the race start leaving the facilities almost entirely for me to "enjoy" on my own. By the time I arrived at the start I was warm and ready to race!

 

Keith Measures - Grantham AC

The Rauceby Ripper is an 8ish mile trail race crossing the edges of ploughed fields, tracks, wooded trails and a little bit of road. Some of the race runs through a private estate. The going is tough in places. I ran this event last year when a  hard frost had left lots of ankle turning territory. This year the fields were muddy and there were occasional puddles infiltrating the track demanding decisions about whether to run through and keep pace or alter course to go round whilst momentarily altering rhythm. The route is exposed in parts and runners had to battle hard against a stiff wind to keep a respectable pace. At one part I was directed through an unexpected gap in the hedge. I'd been running happily along a tarmac road when a marshall appeared and guided us through. At the other side of the hedge the only way to go was into a deep ditch with heavily ploughed clods of mud at the bottom. Thankfully it wasn't long before we could clamber out back on to the adjacent grass track.

 

Spot the difference

I was running well through six miles. I'd passed a few competitors and held off a heavily breathing challenger behind. After six miles I started to tire and the same heavy breather came past. I tried to stay with him but couldn't match the pace. Things got worse as I entered the wood, perhaps a mile from the finish. I was running at a steady pace and decided to run straight through a puddle on the path. It turned out the puddle was more muddy than wet and when I pulled my foot out I had (or at least I thought I had) ended up with someone else's shoe attached to my own. I felt sorry for the runner in front who had lost their shoe and I questioned if they had been able to carry on without it. 

 

My mind was soon bought back into focus for whilst I pondered my compatriots misfortune I had been trying to vigorously shake off the shoe which had become attached somehow to my own. I managed a few good shakes without breaking pace. It would have looked funny if there were any bystanders watching but we were in a fairly dense wood and there was nobody else around. Eventually I had to stop. I crossed my other foot to stand on the attached shoe and then moved my other foot quickly to tear my shoe away. It worked and I ran on. Perhaps I should have realised sooner but I'd run a few more paces before noticing that my left foot felt distinctly lighter than my right foot. It slowly dawned on me, I hadn't picked someone else's shoe up in the puddle, it was the sole of my own shoe that had come off - oh dear.....

 

Bareback Runners

 

 

I carried on running with little discomfort. I half thought that there must have been some covering left underneath because the route soon crossed stoney ground and If I was truly running bearfoot it would have hurt. I managed to run without interference all the way to the finish when an inspection confirmed that although the sole had come clean off there was an inner sock left that had provided just enough protection, phew!

 

I got back in 11th place in a time of 1:03:45 Stuart Sinclair was in front in 7th and new member Dave Kay was a place in front of Stuart. I understand that Dave is mainly a footballer but has recently tried a bit of running and has uncovered an undiscovered talent. 

 

We cheered home the rest of the Grantham contingent and watched as group of friends arrived together without their tops on. Obvioulsy not content with the race challenge they decided to run the route without tops on brrrrr. We retired for tea and shortbread biscuits but not before collecting race bags filled with chocolate bars, a banana, a medal, a bottle of water and crisps all of which provided fuel for the cycle home, another fine morning out. Thanks to the Rauceby race organisers.              

 

A Look Ahead to 2013

Phew -  I just about made it through the Christmas party season, Ive managed a few long runs interspersed with a few lunch time tempo sessions and I've done some furious treadmill work. At last I'm regaining a bit of fitness and I can look positively ahead to the running challenges of 2013.

 

In September 2012 during the later part of a holiday as I lay on a sun lounger on a hot Greek beach I made an absolute commitment with myself. I was pretty fit in September after a good summer's running, I'd lost weight and was able to run back to back long events. I promised myself that this year I wasn't going to suffer my usual winter slump. This year I was going to keep running long whatever the winter weather threw at me. I was going to keep weight off and avoid the temptation to eat fatty food whilst hibernating indoors and I was going to shun the majority of Christmas parties...... In rolled the new year and once again i found myself partied out, weight gained, feeling lazy and unfit (but I did have a good time!) and so to 2013.........

 

The first major challenge is another assault on a sub three hour London Marathon. My London marathon history is:

 

 3:23:23 (2000)

 3:20:12 (2001)

 3:03:25 (2002)

 3:11:54 (2004)

 3:06:01 (2011)

 3:05:40 (2012)

 

Given that history its a tough ask but I think I can do it. I've managed one torrid speed session with Grantham RC which involved mile hill repeats - horrible but I have to go back and do more.

 

After London I should have peak fitness which can be put to good use during the LDWA 100 which I've entered again. Last year I retired with no good reason at 65 miles but despite DNFing I have some really great memories of the event which in 2012 was run between London and Windsor. It was a mad experience to run out of the urban throng of central London by myself and eventually into the more forgiving pastures of leafy Surrey as i caught up with walkers and runners that had left the start at an earlier time in the day. I had no idea where I was for most of the way but it was great to follow a route description for such a long distance along unknown paths and trails. This year's event runs from the West to the East coasts through Cornwall and Devon and crossing Bodmin and Dartmoor inbetween. I hope to complete a navigation course ahead of the event!    

 

Next up - the Thunder Run TR24 with the good folk of Grantham Running Club. The quality of the club's running has improved steadily over 2012 and I think this is the year when my comrades and I can achieve our potential in whatever distances or events we respectively target. In addition to London other club members are running marathon's including Paris, Milton Keynes and Berlin. Come July we should be sharp and ready to run repeat 10k relays continuously over 24 hours. the TR24 a spectacle that I'm looking forward to.

 

Team TR24 2012

Lets hope for a long summer as I leave the road behind in favour of the trail. I'll no doubt take part in perennial favourites in the Peak District such as the Peaker's Stroll (to be recommended Grantham folk, maybe with a bit of camping?)  I completed the Long Tour of Bradwell last year which was hard but good Bullock Smithy training so I'll go again. And then on to my favourite event of all - the Bullock Smithy Hike. where I'll be chasing a sub 10 hour time and an 18th completion. This year my friend is coming back to complete unfinished business having got lost on his first attempt. It's really got under his skin. You can follow his progress here.

 

Finally I've been hoodwinked agreed to organise this year's local Belton Cup trail race. (I suppose it's about time I give something back!). I will never again take race organisation for granted - risk assessments, race permits, volunteers, insurance, first aid, volunteers, route maps, entry forms, prizes, volunteers, course markers, marketing, volunteers, results, start gantries, finish funnels, health and safety, volunteers, the list goes on. If you want to VOLUNTEER I'd be more than grateful if you could get in touch! failing that come and run, the event is part of Belton International Horse Trials - a fine day out for all the family. last year's race was won by a Clayton le Moors runner proving that quality athletes will travel for this popular event.  

 

Whatever your plans are for 2013 I hope you run strong, stay injury free and achieve your goals, thanks for reading the blog.

 

Keep on running!   

      

         

Christams Eve Run with Grantham Running Club

It's a tradition apparently.

 

The gang at Muston

 

The Christmas Eve run has taken place each year since at least 1985. The history of this great event can be found here. This year's run began in Barrowby, to the west of Grantham. Some 15 runners met at a club members house for mince pies and mulled wine before running 10 miles in attrocious conditions to the pub.

 

It's about five miles to Barrowby and rather than run through Grantham dressed as Father Christmas, potentially ruining children's dreams, I decided to get the bus. I haven't caught a bus in Grantham before and I had little confidence that the online timetable would be accurate. If the bus didn't turn up I would have had to take a taxi. Thankfully Dudley Road is full of running folk and as I wandered sleepily along I was more than grateful when the Rev Nicky pulled alongside to offer me a lift.  My first bus trip would have to wait for another day.

 

I  arrived in Barrowby by 9.30am. Nicky had got out of the car at Asda and would meet us later in the day further along the route. Her partner dropped me off along with her baggage. This event was well organised. Whilst we ran, a baggage car dropped our bags at the pub so we could change later ahead of the food. The Fisher's hospitality before the start at Barrowby was welcome. It was a little after 9.30am but I felt obliged to drink mulled wine and eat mince pies, it was Christmas Eve after all.

 

Surprise View - Keith hopes to be rescued. 

 

  

Gradually other club folk  arrived at Barrowby, many dressed in festive costumes. The Christmas atmosphere built as we sat eating and drinking and discussing the weather that we were about to encounter. It's rained a lot recently in Grantham and  most of the field are flooded. I got a second sense that event organiser Geach was quietly concerned about the route coupled with the weather which was going to make the going soft. This was to be an enjoyable run at a leisurely pace,  for anyone of any ability. That, mixed with the weather conditions had some responsibility attached to it.

 

A little after 10.45 I was changed in to my Father Christmas outfit and gathered with the others for a photo before the off. We ran collectively into the rain some five minutes later. It was wet in the sky, wet in the air and wet on the ground. Everywhere was wet. Sadly, a comrade became a cropper just as we left Barrowby and she had to turn back. Along with a club mate we questioned whether we wished it was us that had strained our muscle so we could escape the ensuing misery but sadly we both felt relatively fine as we plundered across the cricket field.

 

Eric

At the end of the cricket field we met Eric. Eric is a wolfhound of mixed description owned by a club runner. A big grey dog with bandy powerful legs. Eric has relentless energy which was displayed impressively as he bounded toward us across the field. Eric was  to accompany us on the entire ten mile run from Barrowby to Staunton in the Vale and proved to be inspirational company in boggy fields when we all began to tire.

 

We headed out over surprise view and on to the Grantham canal and west towards "The Dirty Duck" near Woolsthorpe by Belvoir. It continued to rain. The santa costumes were quickly soaked through, I hadn't realised that 'felt' has such impressive water holding qualities. Organiser Geach, also dressed as Father Christmas had wired up a stereo and the speakers were strapped to his rear via his belt. The speakers played Christmas carols which added a seasonal tone to the fun. I bet the others that the speakers wouldn't survive the rain and I suggested to Gordon that he was likely to be taking an electric shock at anytime soon. The speakers did however survive the entire trip which is testiment to Gordon's electric wiring capabalities. It was very atmospheric running through  flooded ploughed fields in the middle of nowhere dressed as Father Christmas, next to another Farther Chritsmas all whilst Andy William's "It's the most wonderful time of the year" belted out as we splashed through the mud.

 

Helen Brown in the early stages of an epic run

 

 

At Muston we met some up other folk who didn't want to run the entire route. I was reunited with the Rev Nicky who had turned out in summer kit wearing nothing but shorts and a running vest to fend off the continuing tough conditions. We ran on towards Bottesford and I was grateful for a bit of road - at least you have a vague idea of the likely foot plant destination as you splosh through puddles on tarmac. We were generally running strong by half way but spirits were beginning to deteriorate. One anonymous, particularly demoralised member of the group who was happy to pose for photos earlier in the run, was reduced to slowly raising her wet bedraggled head and muttering expletives as I aimed the camera at her in the mid to latter stages! (Helen)             

 

Lucy avoided the temptation of  her warm house at Bottesford. Instead of retiring to a seat in front of the fire she decided to troop on and beat this treacherous run into submission. After Bottesford things got more interesting. Up until now we had encountered canal paths, trails and a bit of road but the field fun  was about to begin. The fields were literally soaked. Ploughed mud mixed nicely with 'felt' at the bottom of the Santa trousers making everything heavier. I watched organiser Geach as he wandered off into the midst of one of the fields and I tried to shout him back. I was reassured that he knew what he was doing. It looked like he'd lost the plot. I half expected to him fall with exhaustion but he's stronger than that and later he explained he had just taken the 'official' route.

 

Lucy negotiates another wet field as Eric looks on.

 

 

By now we were closing in on destination Staunton and thoughts turned to the roaring log fire, real ales and food which were to reward the weary runners at the finish. I chanced another photo with  Helen who was being chivied on by partner Mark. I got a faint smile in return. Gordon's tracks continued to belt out impressively as everybody trooped stoically on through the worst the terrain could throw at us. Eric the K9 bounded on undeterred,  he seemed to love his day out and it was impressive to watch as he leaped the stiles with gusto. Eventually a view of Staunton appeared agonisingly close in the distance and the pace increased ever so gradually as runners anticipated the finish.

 

A welcome finish

 

 

We made it to the excellent Staunton Arms and despite being in various states of bedragglement we had participated and conquered an excellent festive run. Spirits were lifted by the warm  log fire as club member's children toasted marsh mellows in the roaring flames and runners sampled home made pork scratchings. Spirits were raised further with food and drink before we retired for a pre arranged quiz courtesy of quiz master Hillson. Ian Fisher our morning host, won the Ian Fisher trophy for daftness displayed during the previouos year. (Ian had been posted to a marshall point at the summer solstice race but went to the wrong location off the course before phoning race control some 50 minutes later to ask where the front runners were). The day ended in the comfort of the bar drinking and chatting and generally looking forward to Christmas day and looking back on an epic run in which we had all taken part. Thanks to everyone who helped to organise this great day and thanks to the Staunton Arms for their hospitality. Happy Christmas blog readers!  

 

  

Six Dales Circuit (Again)

I was concerned about the lack of training miles since the six dales circuit so I decided to do it again.

 

Just Before Hartington (anti clockwise)

 

 

I took a day off work to do a long run. It was an impulsive decision and because of the lack of time to prepare and think of route choices I decided to drive back to the Peak District and run round the six dales but in reverse and starting at Monyash. I couldn't tire of this route which involves long valleys flanked by streams, higher level fields with extensive views of the high peak and picturesque villages nestling in between .

 

The benefit of starting at Monyash is that you get the monotony of the Tissington Trail done first and arguably the best bit up Lathkill Dale leads back to the finish at Monyash. I was blessed with a glorious day. As I arrived in Monyash before 9am it was bitterly cold, there was a deep ground frost which made the surrounding landscape white, like a scene from a Christmas card but despite the cold and frost, the sun shone brightly. I could not have asked for a better day.    

 

Just before Wolfscote Dale

 

 

The run went well until I turned my ankle just before Middleton. Frustratingly I was just about to begin the aforementioned 'best bit' but as I was shuffling down a track the ankle turned with its customary popping sound leaving me to shout expletives at the on looking cows. Oddly enough, before the actual six dales event I had witnessed confusion before the start as there was a map displayed in the village hall with an highlighted route that seemed shorter than the actual event route. The organiser explained to those confused, that he had simply marked a short cut which avoided Lathkill dale and Braford Dale in case anybody was too tired to complete the whole thing. Conveniently the end of the short cut was just about where I turned my ankle so I retrieved the map from my ruc sac and navigated back to Monyash over the top of the fields above the dales below.

 

Wolfscote Dale

 

 

The shorter route meant that I missed the best parts of Lathkill Dale but I did run along some new trails and its always 'fun' using the map to find your way. Before Monyash I decided to drop back into Lathkill Dale for the final couple of miles. Although it was bitterly cold I had managed to keep warm by shuffling on because the pain from the swelling wasn't that bad.

 

I ran some 20 miles. at much less furious pace than during the event some three weeks earlier. It took ages but I had a great day and it was worth the effort to kick start a bit more serious training before getting engulfed by the Christmas party season. When I got back to the car I drove into the village and visited the excellent Smithy Cafe and drowned my ankle sorrows in tea with cake before the drive back to Grantham.         

Six Dales Circuit 2012

I last did the Six Dales Circuit in 2009 when I arrived at the start late and had to chase the field to catch up. This year I allowed an extra hour to travel from Grantham. My new sat nav seemed to help no end and I arrived with a two hours to spare. I pondered how the extra time could have been spent in bed. A 5.15am start was a challenge in itself. I spent the extra time walking a small section of the route near Hartington to remind myself of the way across some fields and to take some pictures to illustrate this post.    

 

Lathkill Dale

 

This event is a firm favourite. The 25 mile route passes through some spectacular parts of the white peak and the six dales of Biggin Dale, Wolfscote Dale, Beresford Dale,  Lathkill Dale, Bradford Dale and Long Dale are only more enhanced by the golden colours of the season. This year we were blessed with cool November sunshine that made the autumnal colours glisten even more.

 

After my mini recce I returned to the sleepy and probably still sleeping village of Biggin  to watch the walkers start. The village church bells struck at 8am and a noticeably large field of walkers passed the car parking field where I stood. I made my own final preparations before walking to the village hall to chat with other runners who were also milling around waiting for the same church bells to strike an extra time an hour later. It was good to be reunited with other folk from previous events. Arriving in Biggin with two hours to spare had left me feeling relaxed, obviously too relaxed because, as I lined up at the start and glanced to the right I noticed a tally card attached to another runner's back pack. "I haven't got one of those" I thought sleeply before the spark lit. In my laid back state, although I had pre entered, I had forgotten to register at the start. Thereafter followed my more usual pre race routine of panic as I rushed back into the village hall with seconds to spare until the bells tolled. Thankfully, seconds later I was back outside complete with tally card clutched in my hand. A normal relaxed start just wouldn't have been fashionable.

 

The path after Hartington

 

 

The bells rang nine times and we cantered out of the village and down into Biggin Dale. The dale contains plenty of slippery lime stone and I cut some colourful shapes as I tried to keep my self upright. The white cliffs of Wolfscote Dale dominated the side of the valley and the clear water stream running through the middle of it far below. I ran alongside the stream with only Fraser Hirst in front. I knew Fraser was a stronger runner than I and I was surprised to have kept up with his pace. I needn't have worried, after the first checkpoint at Hartington, Fraser fired the afterburners and ran on out of sight. I was still running strong as I crossed the moor towards the midshires way. This was the part that I had recceed earlier in the morning. By now I had caught up with the 8am walkers and they provided a handy line in front to aid my navigation across a few tricky fields.

 

A stiff climb to the midshires way challenged the lungs but there was no time to rest. I glanced back and noticed plenty of chasing runners. I ran fast along perhaps two miles of the disused railway. For some trail runners this part is too hard underfoot and monotonous. I used the opportunity to run faster and put to use my seasons training on the roads. Another climb to the Bull in' thorn leads to a easier downhill section more or less all the way to Monyash. The checkpoint at Monyash offers a fine selection of food. I was ready for replenishment and ate malt loaf and sweets washed down with cordial. The checkpoint at Monyash even offers Staffordshire oatcakes with cheese, appreciated by walkers and runners with cast iron stomachs. I reluctantly turned down the oatcake offer and ran out into perhaps the most beautiful dale of the route, Lathkill Dale.

 

The upper part of Lathkill  Dale is a national nature reserve and apparently English writer Izaak Walton declared the stream which flows through it as the purest and most transparent stream he had ever seen. I've never heard of Izaak Walton but I can confirm that the stream this year flowed strong and clear passing occasional waterfalls which add to the beauty of this picturesque dale. I noticed occasional 'twitchers' perched on the dale side with tripods ready to photograph the plentiful local wildlife. This is a great place to run. The initial rocky stage gives way to an easily runnable river bank all the way through to Over Haddon and on to Conksbury Bridge. The sun continued to shine and it was an invigorating stage all the way to the next checkpoint at Milldale.

 

Conksbury Bridge

Just before Milldale I crossed the wrong bridge but realised my mistake as the track at the other side  looked unfamiliar. I had remembered the route so far but now had to resort to the route description which confirmed that I had crossed a bridge too early. I retraced my steps and carried on. Just before the track up to Milldale I noticed a fluorescent jacket flash in woods ahead, it was Fraser, I hadn't seen him since leaving Hartington earlier in the morning. Fraser had already visited the checkpoint and was disappearing through the woods on the final stage to the finish. I shouted some encouragement which was hopelessly lost between the trees. The climb up the track to Milldale is stiff and I had to walk in parts. After Milldale I would only have about six miles left to run. I thought I was still second in the event field but I had started to tire. I didn't dwell at the checkpoint it was time to get this thing done. I wasn't going to catch Fraser but it would be nice to be second home.  The route from Milldale involves a retrace of steps back down the steep track to the river before negotiating fields and a wood towards the final dale, Long Dale.

 

On the descent of the track I met perhaps four or five other runners. I was surprised that they had caught up as I hadn't seen anyone behind for quite some time. Perhaps my bridge error had cost me time. I struggled in the final stage. My energy ran out and I resorted to the emergency provisions which I had carried in my back pack. I staggered up towards the descent to Long Dale. My pace had slowed dramatically and I was sure my chasing comrades would catch up. These events aren't super competitive but its nice to run as fast as you can, challenge your previous times and hold your place in the field. Long Dale is usually very boggy and I wasn't looking forward to wading through the mud, the energy from the emergency provisions had yet to kick in. This year surprisingly the Dale wasn't too bad and I was able to shuffle at a reasonable pace to the road. The final climb to Friden and on to Newhaven went on for ages as the later stages of these events always seem to.

 

Pork Pie Den

I was glad to cross the A515, mostly downhill from here. I noticed that if I kept pace I could break four hours. The rations kicked in and I galloped ahead. I took a direct line up and over the disused railway. From the top I could see the buildings in Biggin nestling temptingly less than a mile away. I kept a strong pace to enter the village and on to the village hall arriving back in 3 hours 55minutes before shaking hands with Fraser who had come home perhaps seven minutes earlier.  

 

This was a great day out across an inspiring route. Staffordshire Long Distance Walkers Association put on a brilliant, good value event. The comparatively nominal entry fee includes a three course meal at the finish. Soup, stewed meat with vegetables and rice pudding is offered along with tea or coffee and there is a vegetarian option available. Each finisher is awarded a printed certificate. It was good to eat with the other folk that continued to arrive all with their own tales of their 25 mile adventures.

 

After the event I drove out to Conksbury Bridge and wandered back through Lathkill Dale to appreciate the views at a slower pace and take some photos to further illustrate this post. A great day finished with a half a pork pie and pickle in the excellent Lathkill Hotel.