Beacon to Beach

Last week I ran the Beacon to Beach race. I had really been looking forward to what I falsely presumed would be a downhill all the way with a bit of flat at the end run.

On the Friday evening my running buddy Fi and myself studied the race details and eventually resorted to looking at the OS map to check the coordinates and where we needed to be. We found Selworthy Beacon atop Bossington Hill and decided we would need to head for Selworthy in order to reach the start.

Come Sunday morning this is where we headed only to find narrow lanes ending with a 'not suitable for motor vehicles' sign. Oh. Ok, lets move onto Allerford and see if we can get to the top from there. Um, that'll not be the right place either then! Yes, we could walk to the top, a steep climb for twenty minutes but, no, the kindly gentleman told us, we really needed to go back into Minehead and up North Hill to get to the start of the race.

We retraced our journey and decided to head for the finish line where hopefully we would be able to get the limited minibus lift to the top. Time was ticking by and the car park was filling but we duly found a space and dashed for the minibus only to see it turning out of the car park. As the sign was still displayed we decided to wait and hope another one would be along soon.

We left Minehead in warm sunshine and arrived at the start in almost drizzly and quite breezy chilly weather. Our singlets and shorts quite the wrong attire for standing around waiting. We sheltered alongside the parked vehicles and were grateful that our foray around the surrounding area had left us with only ten minutes to wait for the start.

Now, remember I mentioned my hopes of a downhill and flat race? It started with an up, a slow and steady up but nonetheless an up. Humph. This was not what I had envisaged at all. The horn sounded and suddenly we were all hurtling through the gate along the track. So many people, no time to dawdle but within seconds Fi was edging away from me. Hills always kill my times and I just had to dig in and keep going. My team were long gone and I settled in for the climb. Being a slow and steady runner and dropping further back into the field I had time to look out over the view of Porlock Bay, way down below bathed in glorious sunshine.

Soon the up eased out into a short stretch of flat before we were rising more steeply up to the beacon. A gentle downhill section followed and then disaster struck. I fell. I fell badly. As soon as I started to go I knew there was no saving and resigned myself to the forthcoming hit. Oh my goodness did that hurt. My left knee hit the rocks and my upper body and leg slid along the stones in the rut. I wanted to cry. It hurt like hell. A very nice young man of about twelve or so helped me to my feet, retrieved my water bottle and was very concerned for my well being, it took me quite a bit of thanks before I managed to shoo him along to do his own race and not worry about me. Runners all around me asked if I was Ok whilst I stood dazed with a bleeding knee. What to do? Carry on or stop. I had fallen just before one of the relay team change over stations and I decided I would carry on to the next relay change over and by then I would know if I hurt just because I had fallen or if I had actually damaged my knee.

Next we dropped down over into the wooded area of North Hill. Marshals warned to slow down and take care as the way ahead could get quite slippery. I took my time and even managed to pass a few people. My knee hurt like hell but the bleeding seemed to have stopped and the trail was softer under foot so I tried to enjoy myself. Before I knew it I went over again. Heaven only knows why I tripped that time but this was steeper ground and smoother thankfully but I hit the ground hard and slid for what felt like forever. I managed to get myself sitting up and cried whilst I felt very sorry for myself. Two burly chaps took me under the arms and got me back onto my feet whilst a third suggested I walk for a while.

More kindness form the runners around me making sure I was OK whilst I realised I actually had no choice whatsoever but to carry on as this would be the only way to get to the finish. I re-pinned my torn number and gingerly tested walking, my right knee now bleeding, my shoulders scraped and my sweaty body now covered in a fine muddy dust and my pride well and truly in tatters. I walked for a little bit but soon decided this was going to take too long, I still had quite some distance to go, and gently sped up to a jog.

Eventually I reached the bottom and thank goodness out onto a tarmac road. I headed along the sea front and felt all alone. I was so far behind everyone else I really wasn't sure I was going the right way. I decided I had to keep going until I saw a marshal and eventually I did. Im sure most of the pedestrians were unaware of the race and I was duly ignored by quite a lot of them. I did get one shout out that was very special as the lady had read my club name on my vest. At last I reached the crossing point and headed towards the West Somerset Railway Line where I had to wait for the Thomas the Tank Engine steam train to puff past. A welcome breather maybe but I was seriously concerned I wouldn't be able to get going again.

I was directed up past the hospital and I wondered if they were open on a Sunday and if I would be needing their services, oh and this was an incline once again. At last I reached the college and onto grass. As I turned the corner I saw that I had to run down a steep bank, I edged to the corner determined not to fall in front of the crowd and made my way to the bottom. Sadly my spirit did not have an ounce of sprint finish about it but I ran to the finish. I heard Fi and her family shouting for me and I crossed the line and spotted my finish time of 1hr 10. I was not the only team member to fall, Phil also damaged his knee and hurt his rib.

It eventually dawned on me that for 7 miles I had actually done a good time, then I was cross, had I not fallen I could have got a wriggle on along the front and done a sprint finish and my time would have been cracking, for me. When I studied my stats I had actually done a really good pace up those hills.

The day after I could barely walk, the next day the bruising really began to come out and my body ached from head to foot. By Wednesday walking had become easier but banging my knee on the table leg reminded my how badly I had hurt it. Today I worked with the reception children and we compared bruised knees, mine were right up there I have to say and they seemed quite impressed that I had fallen over twice!

So there we have it, I'm out of action. Maybe I'm not a trail runner. Maybe I should stick to solid, flat ground. After fall one I remember muttering that I would never do this race again. After fall two it was a definite never again. Almost a week later and maybe...




Kerry, Fi, Lyn, Gemma

Every second counts.

This year I shall be 50 years old. 18262.1 days old. 1,577,836,800 seconds old. 

Time moves on, it takes us back and forth in memories and every second is precious. Hours, days and years pass and yet sometimes events make us feel like it was only yesterday we left school, made a new friend or took up a hobby.

Thirty four years ago I left school to begin my adult life. I have kept in touch with several school friends some of whom only in recent years through the wonders of the technical revolution. One bestie I have travelled half way round the world for, twice. The magic of a real hug after months of virtual ones is incredibly powerful. 

Though Facebook I have been able to add my congratulations to friends I have yet to re meet up with who are also celebrating their 50th year this year. I had the pleasure of visiting north Devon  a couple of months back to join in festivities for a particularly special friend, a great night of dancing and drinking was had. Last night I partied in a barn, a real barn, with a disco and a large number of people! This bestie I had not seen since the day we parted company on our last school day. 

All these people have not changed one bit. OK, we may look a bit older and we are certainly wiser from life experiences but underneath we are exactly the same. I loved them then and I love them now.

I consider myself very lucky to have met many friends along the way. My husband, of course, no one knows me better, he really can read me like a book. Some stay the course and if they've been with me this long then I shall not be letting them go anytime soon. They are a very important part of my life. Thankfully not so many where circumstances have sent us on different paths and new ones bringing friendship, support and encouragement in many guises. 

My Timehop app took me back four years this morning to my Facebook status that read "5K, 42 minutes, I'm feeling sick and I need a lie down." Yesterday I completed my parkrun 5K in 30 minutes and 3 seconds. I still felt sick and I could have had a lie down but settled for a perch on a bench. Twelve minutes improvement in four years, to say I'm over the moon would be an understatement. (This is my official parkrun time, my coach's time has me at sub 30 and had I not had to stop and tie my laces my official time would have also been under 30!) 

A few months back a new friend took me under her wing and has very kindly been nurturing me along in my quest to improve my running. She devised a plan for me, this encouraged me to do speed work and I even ventured onto the track. She explained how to increase my distances, slowly and steadily and most importantly she made me realise that running sometimes should just be an easy and enjoyable outing. Sometimes she also forgoes her own parkruns to run with me, to pace me and to keep me going. Added to this one of my running club leaders has been leading sessions on exercises, stretching, track and hill. Fellow runners are incredibly supportive and encouraging. All in all I am incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such good people. All of these wonderful people have helped me to improve my running and I did not think this would be possible. I am very grateful to each and everyone of them. Thank you all. 

This morning I have spent time with another very good friend, sadly she is injured but we did manage a few loops around the park and very many minutes putting the world to rights. Her most important message to me today was to concentrate on the seconds you are currently in. Enjoy each and every one of them as much as you can. Thinking back to happy times is good, but you can't change the not so happy ones so don't dwell upon them, remember them and put them away. Thinking forward is good for time planning and all that organisational stuff  but there's no point wasting precious time worrying about chores waiting at home until you get home. 

Every second is precious, make the most of each and every one of them. Oh, and those three seconds I need to lose on my parkrun time, they'll happen, and be sure, you will hear me scream when it happens!     

Loosening My Laces

I've clocked up 23 miles this week. I'm quite chuffed about that.

Monday was an inset day, no work for me. The teachers were writing their reports and I was taking stock of my beautiful surroundings on an almost 7 mile round trip. I added in an extra loop to a tried and tested route that I usually enjoy and this outing was as lovely as usual.

Wednesday after work I was treated to a visit from my lovely DiL and the scrumptious granddaughter. Oh how I could eat her. My heart melts when she looks at me and that face breaks into a smile. Her eyes sparkle, she gurgles and I am putty in her hands. When they left I changed into my kit and set off to running club. Half way along my journey it finally registered that it was, once again, pouring with rain. Fellow runners waited under trees and out in the open getting soaked through, not me, I waited until the very last minute before leaving the dry and warmth of my car.

I am very fortunate that a club organiser is training for her running coach qualification and is needing guinea pigs, free coaching for me then!  Hill training was planned for this session. The Vale of Taunton kind of gives away the fact  that there are not many hills in the town and  I had been pondering all week where we would do the training. We trotted off to Galmington and found a hummock.

I had promised, mostly to myself, that I would not moan my way through this session. You may know, I HATE hills.We started with some warm up stretches and then had to run around the crescent and back four times. Every ounce of effort was required and we had to remember posture, arms, knees up oh and to breathe. And off we went.

Up the hummock, or maybe it had become a hillock, whatever it was a steepish incline but I quite quickly and efficiently got to the top and relaxed back down the other side. No problem, hills, don't know what my issue is with them. I turned around and was soon back to the top of the rise and enjoyed the next relaxed down. Second climb. Actually that was a hill, not a big one I grant you but that gradient was enough to make breathing considerably harder. Shouts of encouragement from Sandra helped and I must have been doing everything OK as she wasn't telling me to change anything. Relief, the top was reached and I got some puff back on the decline.

The third attempt and I couldn't believe I was going to have to do the climb again. I really didn't think I was going to make it to the top. I was going to need crampons and a rope. The quicker, proper runners were gradually increasing their leads and I was meeting them coming back as I reached the summit.

Soaked to the skin, exhausted and in need of a quiet lie down in a darkened room I set off on my final trek up the mountain. I made it, as I had slowed down quite considerably oxygen was not required and I was so happy with myself for not having moaned once, I hadn't had the spare breath to do so.

By the time we got back to the cars just over 4 miles had been added to my weekly tally. (I still HATE hills, but I'm not moaning!)

Thursday after school Gill and I set off for our after work chatty run. I don't know how Gill manage to run and talk without sounding like the steam train I turn into! On a whim I suggested a different route and Gill is usually happy to go wherever I lead. I actually took us off road which is very unusual for me. I like roads and pavements and it wasn't long before I was regretting the extra weight from the mud stuck to my trainers. We put the worlds to rights and clocked up almost 4 miles.

Sunday, today, my first trip out in my brand new trainers. Grape, lime and white in colour, gel in the soles and go faster stripes. What more could a girl need in running shoes. I set off on my long run route adding in another loop to lengthen it further and was very soon saddened that my legs were not loosening up and each and every step was darned hard work. I thought I might cut it short and detour back home the quick way but decided that as it was such a beautiful morning I would keep going. I keep reading on running forums that to take a walking break is absolutely fine, but why does it always feel such a cop out?

My go faster stripes were not working, the gel in the soles was not making the journey any less painful or easier and the colour of my shoes matched the colour of my face perfectly.  I decided that I had tied my laces too tightly and this was my problem. I ploughed on with my chosen route, and completed 8 miles in a fairly slow venture. Eight miles is better than zero miles so no harm done.

Next week's running choices include hashing, (probably far too muddy for my liking) some self led speed work, (I aim to be quite quick on the downhill and quite slow on the up hill) a club time trial, (not done this before and I am quietly terrified) my weekly run with Gill, (must remember to ask her lots of questions so she does all the talking) and parkrun, (but not in my new trainers unless the sun shines ALL week!)

Gluten

I hate gluten. I love gluten, which is why I hate gluten. Gluten rules my life.

I try hard to not eat the stuff and when I don't I feel great. Because I feel good I think I can get away with a treat or two. And to start with I can. And then it builds up again and I feel rubbish.

I knew today was not going to be a good day as soon as I opened my eyes. Tried to open my eyes I should say. Try as I might my body was not waking up and my eyes could not be forced open. A while later I tried again and I managed to rise and shine minus the shine and it was more of a slump from bed to chair than a rise.

My plan for today was to finish the paperwork pending, catchup with the household chores and treat myself to a run. The paperwork is done, it took forever. Washing is on the go and the ironing is waiting. I'm still hoping to go for a run.

Feeling fugged, slow and achey has made it easy to avoid the Devil's foods today. I've devoured an enormous and filling lunch and I might just indulge in an afternoon siesta, I am on holiday after all. Maybe later my head will have cleared, my mind will settle on the tasks needing my attention and I will have the energy for a much needed jog up the lane.

I really hope so.

Test

Good evening.

I have changed some settings on my blog.

Please can you see if you can leave a comment, just one word is all I need to see if it's working.

Many thanks x

Ten Four

Message received.

Normally when I'm running around the highways and byways I see lots of other people enjoying the outdoors. But on my 7 mile easy run today there was a distinct lack of like minded people enjoying this blustery Sunday morning.

I didn't see a single walker or any horses and riders.

Thankfully I encountered very few cars except for the stretch under the M5 and through to Henlade.
As I battled a very strong headwind I only saw four runners and ten cyclists.

Therefore, today, cycling is more popular than running 8(

*This is an entirely unscientific observation

Running a Different Race

Yesterday, being a Saturday morning, as usual, I did not want to get out of bed. But, Saturday is parkrun day and as I can only attend once a fortnight, at 8.10 a.m. I dragged a brush through my hair, cleaned my teeth and laced up my trainers.

I had no intention of aiming for a PB as after my exhausting session at track the previous Monday evening my ear had been playing up and quite frankly I was all out of energy. I had snuck out of work on Friday to indulge in a very bad lunch, and also went out for dinner and enjoyed steak and chips along with a drop of Pinot Grigio. Not good pre run planning at all.

Coach was present and I'm sure she would have run with me had I asked but as I was feeling out of sorts I thought she was better concentrating on her own time as I seriously thought I was going to just amble around. Two weeks before Nadine had encouraged me to get a very decent PB, today I had to do it by myself and I really did not believe it would be possible.

The hooter took me by surprise, there was an almighty crush to get through the first pinch point and as usual I had set off with the usual speed of those around me. Whilst thinking I must slow down and get to my own pace I was also thinking, actually I'm OK. Unusually I was not being overtaken by the masses only a few. Fortunately a lady just ahead of me appeared to be running my pace so I fell in behind her and kept my eye on Nadine, inching ahead but still in my sights.

I relaxed to enjoy the run, still not giving a second thought to my speed. I was aware that my breathing was good, my legs a little achey but coping well. I managed to avoid the puddles by going onto the grass, slipped a little through the stinky mud that has made a very unwelcome return and managed to keep up a good pace.

End of lap one and if the photographer was going to capture me then it was going to be with a shot of me looking like I was running, knees up, arms pumping, round two. I knew the first lap had gone well, and now I was tired. Oh well, good try I thought, never mind, slow a little take a breather and carry on enjoying and stop worrying. Looking ahead I selected a runner, slowly, very slowly I aimed to catch them. Some I did, some I stayed with, some we took turns on leading and some I never quite got to, you know who you are!

Then I reached the one mile to go point and I thought back to my run with Nadine, this is the point I needed to start speeding up, I was feeling good so I had to give it a go. This race was feeling very different from all previous park runs, I was in control, I dug in and could hear people behind getting closer, I was not going to let them get me, they certainly were not going to get through the gate before me. Although this was hard it was not feeling as hard as it had last time. I was on the home run, I was gasping a little, no, make that gasping a lot, I hurt, sprint time! Barely a sprint followed but I sure as heck did not stop until I had passed the line.

Standing in the scan line I chatted to fellow runners before realising I had not switched off my timing chip. OMG, as I stopped it I read 31 minutes and some seconds. I could not for the life of me recall my PB time from last time, but I knew I was close. Catching up with friends under the barn, I was joined by coach, she had an almighty big smile on her face as she told me "I know your time," she had great delight in telling me it was 30 minutes something. I let out an almighty shriek of delight and surprise. My official result came through a little while later to confirm my new PB of 30.20.

That sub 30 is calling...