Crrrisp weather

The vista outside was beautiful this morning, with sun, crystal blue sky and glistening white snow.  Although at somewhere close to zero on the thermometer, it wasn’t really calling to me running-wise!

But having had a couple of weeks off, I thought I had better get out and do something, even if it was to get some fresh air in my lungs.

I got all my normal gear out and then found an additional layer to boot… extra track bottoms over my longs, extra t-shirt, extra beanie hat, extra gloves and my orange runners for both warmth and additional traction.  As I skated off down the road, I was prepared to be very chilly, but within 15 minutes I felt a little like a turkey… well stuffed and on a low heat.

Normally I would have unzipped or removed clothing, but this was not a day to mess around.  Despite the sunshine and the stillness, it was better to be slightly over-warm than let to the chill in.

I had decided to run my old default circuit… Royal Oak (which looks to have been refurbished, by the way) Wivelsfield, up through West Wood and back down the Magical Path & across the Common.  The going underfoot was largely crunchy with mini-puddles in the muddier areas, but anything that didn’t crunch was perilously slippery… not a surface I wanted to fall over on as any limb striking it directly would be a good candidate to break, so I probably looked like a real ninny crossing the road!

The temperature was such that the slight perspiration from running up the one gentle hill gave a considerable face ice-pack effect running along for five minutes afterwards.  But all was forgiven… it was gorgeous out there!

And despite the two-week break, I was running well… such that when I got back to the Common, I happily decided to go around the circuit a second time!

Ditchling CommonThe pond on the CommonSpectators whirring me onThe magical Magical Path: So good I ran it twice

Last time I ran this double loop was on 17th May and the time today did not compare favourably… but then I was concentrating quite hard on not sliding over in a number of places.  The first loop of 4.4 miles took me 47 minutes (against 39 minutes in May), whilst the second half was only slightly better at 45 minutes.  8.8 miles in one hour, 32 minutes, or 5.74mph.

From the state of my treasured socks, it’s clear that I haven’t been to Run for a while!  I really must put that to rights in the next couple of weeks!

I wish I had paid attention in those darned needlework lessons!

Lost in Bracknell

I arose slightly earlier than normal for a sleepy Sunday and was out in my running gear by 7.45am… in the car.  The weather was less than lovely, but I had a long overdue arrangement to run with Phil (Garmin-man) on his home turf.

When I say less than lovely, I had such torrential rain on my journey that the road actually disappeared a couple of times.  I saw one car which had just spun into the central reservation on the M3 and another which had morphed into a tree, deep in a ditch.  Needless to say that between the rain and the obligatory getting lost, my normally one-hour drive took 90 minutes.

I find a genuine challenge in navigating in the space between the M3 and the M4 and apparently do not need a car to feel this way… within minutes of starting our run I was once more completely disorientated.  The area really is stunning, but other than being able to say that we ran on some paths, some pretty back roads and occasionally along slightly larger roads, I have NO idea where we went.  Other than we ran around the edge of Ascot racecourse and up the High Street.

Phil & I in action... sorry, in Ascot

We had a good pace going from the start, but alas this started to tail off slightly as we progressed.  This despite me slowly taking off gloves, hat and jacket to stay cool.  Our average speed over a carefully designed 12 mile circuit was 6.3mph though… as reported by the aforementioned Garmin after which Phil is named.

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This is faster than our 12 mile run in Sussex four months ago on August 9th and also faster than my 12 mile run on 22nd November… although to be fair, the latter did include running up onto Ditchling Beacon and falling down the other side!

Back at base I was gratefully refuelled by means of a huge egg, bacon and tomato roll, washed down by plenty of tea and coffee.

I then set out for the return journey and as per normal, pretty much instantly got lost, ending up driving back via… well actually I have no idea, other than the fact that I managed to cross the M3 without realising it and join the M25 at the Chertsey turn-off!

Maybe I should go there more often… invitations?

Slow posting

Events, which now seem to elude me, somehow conspired this week to prevent me posting last Sunday’s run.

Nikki was already at Falmer when I pitched up and we quickly decided to sit in the car to wait for Cliff, on account of it being COLD outside!  In reality it wasn’t that cold, but it really did feel that way, possibly on account of a sharp wind laden with occasional heavy rain!

Having finally extricated himself from a traffic jam and parked behind us, Cliff sent a text message to say ‘what we doing this for?’… the reply was ‘we’re not!’

Of course, we did, running up alongside the Falmer Road and across to Newmarket Copse, then down to the Houseman Farm bridge over the A27.  There are two long hills on the other side, with a sharp downhill in between and Cliff & I bullied Nikki into running just about every step… she actually didn’t take much persuading but pretending to be a sergeant major was fun nevertheless!

At the point above Balmer Down where we normally turn back down the hill to Falmer, some idiot suggested we carry on up the hill!  This took us up to the path I often run along on the top of the Downs near to Blackcap.

Heavy rain clouds...... best avoided!

Turning left and into the wind, we ran along the top as far as Streathill Farm, then south to Mary’s Farm, although if you look on the map you’ll find there are two ways to get there… of course, Cliff took us deliberately the less direct way!

Mary’s Farm lays in a lovely sheltered bowl and the road out towards Falmer starts by rising steeply for half a mile.  Cliff and I ran it side by side, virtually step for step, just slightly faster than would otherwise be sensible.  Fast enough that he had to resort to an old excuse to stop at the top… while I used him stopping as an excuse to stop too.

Nikki was more prudent, but just  far enough behind to not qualify for an old git’s break before we carried on down the other side to the cars!

9.65 tough miles were dispatched in one hour 40 minutes giving an average of 5.8mph.

Cliff, Nikki et moi dans un sunny moment

Nought has been done running-wise by yours truly since then, although I have a different run planned for tomorrow and I’ll try not to make you wait another week to hear about it!

Rallycross

The weather this morning was almost springlike… not only was it quite mild, but it was also really changeable.  From welcome sunlight first thing, it quickly darkened for a band of heavy rain.  Fortunately I was still sitting inside with my espresso at the time, in no hurry whatsoever to get out.

When the weather cleared a little, I took it as my cue to leave.  My plan was to run down the pavement through Hassocks to Clayton, up past the windmills to the Beacon, down to Ditchling, along to Hassocks and back along the pavement.

After the initial ten minutes, when my mind did nothing but complain, I got into my stride and I reached Stonepound Crossroads in Hassocks at the 30 minute mark… average 6.5mph.

I then ran on to Clayton, up the crazy-steep track from the cricket pitch to Jack & Jill, with the wind full in my face and then on up to the summit where the tank tracks join from the left.  This second section took 28 minutes and I managed an average speed of 5.65mph… not bad bearing in mind the size of the hill in the middle.  It was pretty bleak on the top with a full wind and dark clouds threatening.

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I then ran across to the Beacon and down into the calm of the track that leads down underneath the Beacon road… just in time to avoid some really sharp, wind-driven rain.  It really was magical down there, almost silent save for the slap of my feet and I tried to maintain my balance on the slippery, chalk-strewn uneven ground.

When my feet finally did slide out from under me, in a dramatic fashion, I was glad that I had left the sharp stones behind and that I landed, albeit heavily, on a smooth, hard, algae covered chalk bank.  I lay there, winded, for a couple of minutes, using the time to snap a couple of photos for you to smirk at.  Key contact points were my hip, elbow and shoulder… alas the photos don’t do justice to the quantity of durgy chalk marking these places!

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Being so far from home, I was grateful that I could still run, so I did just that.  Firstly down into Ditchling, where a combination of rain and pain made me disinclined to run back via Hassocks.  I opted instead for the more direct route north along the road to Folders Lane, where I snuck through the houses back home in the most efficient way I could find.

The one hour 58 minutes final tally meant that, despite the fall, I had managed 6.35mph for the second hour and 6.1mph average overall across the 12 miles covered.  Not bad Foster!

Longs on 2009!

My hitherto shiny runners finally got an autumn dousing yesterday morning.  If anything, it was long overdue, since I bought them in August… the Bok would be amazed!

It had chucked it down with rain on the way to Falmer, but it was quite calm as I waited for the others to arrive.  I had chosen to wear several top layers, but was still sporting my summer shorts… until Andy & Paula arrived and I persuaded myself that maybe the longs were a better idea.

Cliff then arrived wearing pedal pushers (I shall say nothing) and then Nikki, who having recently spent a month in the Himalayas, was on top form.

The first hill out of Falmer is a little like the one up from Jack and Jill: for some reason I just have to race myself up it… so much for a warm-up.  The others caught up and from then on it was a much more congenial run.

We ran out to Newmarket copse, then up the hill and east along the path along the top.  We dropped down to Standean Bottom and then took the  l o n g  hill back up to the top of Woodingdean.  I remember running it before on the Brighton 20… it’s a hill that seems as if it will never reach the top.

The view from the top is pretty good though!

West from Woodingdean

From there we ran up to the radio mast, took the next path on the left and, in the absence of surplus energy, cut the corner off across the Access Land, dropping straight down to the path back to Falmer.  There was no racing down the final hill, just a gentle jog to the end.

8.45 miles in 1.33 is not especially fast, but bearing in mind I’d not run for two weeks and it was a particularly hilly route, it’s not bad.

The gang

Summertime ends, but the legs are still out

In our garden, in the midst of the ‘burbs and surrounded by trees, houses and tall hedges, the beginning of the GMT half of the year was heralded by a gloriously calm, warm and sunny morning.  (you have remembered to put your clocks back, haven’t you?).  I felt that the Gore jacket and beanie hat may well be superfluous, but took them anyway, just in case wearing shorts turned out to be a little keen.

Just as well, as it was a somewhat different story at Jack & Jill, where the car door was nearly ripped out of my hands by the wind.  In fact, with hot sun, whistling wind and even a little rain from the scudding clouds in the course of my run, I was reminded of autumn, summer and spring… like a timely recap of the year we’ve had, ahead of the onset of winter.

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I cannot say that I was flowing along today as it was darn hard work, even with the wind bowling me along from my rear starboard quarter, but there were a lot of other runners and walkers around today and one simply HAS to keep up appearances.  At one point I saw two runners on the hill ahead of me and I felt a familiar surge of energy push me up the hill in pursuit.  It took me a while to catch them, but not long to leave them behind when I did.

I got to Blackcap at 43 minutes, thanks in part to the thought of running with Mark Johnson and then I pushed onward to do the loop that he likes to do down to Lewes racecourse.  As I did so, the wind brought a brief but heavy smattering of rain, as if to suggest that this might not be a great idea.

The turning point, which once again I have had trouble spotting on the map, was at almost exactly one hour… and the thought of the other hour-plus to get back made me wonder why I had come so far.

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The first hill back up from there is about 2 miles long and was hard going indeed, especially with the wind pummelling the cobwebs from my head.  In fact the balance of the run had this same characteristic and even the downhills were tough work.

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I paused briefly at Ditchling Beacon 1.43 into my run and wondered whether I could make it back to the car in 17 minutes, bearing in mind it had taken me 19 minutes to get here at the start of the run.  I decided to give it a try.  This involved stretching out my stride going down the hills and just keeping my nose to the grindstone on the uphill sections.  As I came down the final hill towards the windmills and into the blessed shelter of gorse on either side, so my stride lengthened and the people I ran past must have thought I was completely barking mad.

As I turned into he car park I hit the stop button on the stopwatch… at exactly 2 hours.  Along with a GREAT feeling of satisfaction, I felt a real need to collapse in a heap!  It was a total relief to get into the car and out of the wind.

I confess to being slightly less joyous right now however, having looked back to my post from November 25th 2007 when I ran the same route with Mark… 9 minutes faster!  So much for progress… although it reiterates the additional speed that you can conjure up just by running with someone else… something which will hopefully play to my advantage come marathon day!

Showing my age

I was in no hurry whatsoever to go running this morning and I sat reading The Week for a second quadspresso while I waited patiently for the heavy frost to melt on the windows of the cars outside.  As a result it was 10.30am before I closed the front door behind me and set off down the road… clothed in the following technical gear:  soft Rono t-shirt underlayer, long-sleeved Rono with a zip neck, Gore jacket, IQ beanie hat, Craft gloves, Thorlo woollen socks and a pair of Rono summer shorts.  Back up a bit I hear you yell… shorts?

Cliff use to wear shorts every day right through to Christmas, despite the blue tinge his legs would take on by the time Santa’s little helpers started their annual shopping spree.  I thought the least I could do is to hold out until the Autumn Solstice… although I feel a little sheepish as I sit here writing now, as that happened on September 22nd!  DUH! clocks go back next weekend.

Actually I have to confess that, although it was chilly outside, the sun was shining in a totally glorious fashion and the solar warming was sufficient to consign the gloves to the big pocket in the front of my shorts within about 20 minutes, the hat following around the 45 minute mark.

By this time I had run out across Folders Lane onto the southern part of the common, down through Ditchling and on towards the bottom of the Beacon path.  I reached the top at 56 minutes and the views were superb!

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From there I ran East to Streat Hill and then doubled back on myself to drop down the scarp slope to Old Middleton.  To give you a concept of the hills that I climb, this should give some indication of the gradient.

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From the bottom I headed pretty much north before turning left to go through Blackbrook Wood, down the Magical Path and back to home across the Common with its autumnal grass resplendent in the bright sunlight.

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I covered 12.9 miles in the two hours and eight minutes I was out and I can tell you that I’m really feeling every minute of it as I sit here tapping away on the keys right now.  I had intended to go out a’visiting this afternoon, since Kim has gone to see Jason, but I can feel a snooze coming on instead!  Ah, poor dear me: the joys of getting older!

That ten-past-six in the morning feeling!

Cold, grey Sussex

After a highly entertaining dinner with friends in London last night and the subsequent 1am homecoming, an 8am meet-up at Jack and Jill was always going to be a little bit of a struggle.

I was actually there early and was reclined comfortably in my car when Cliff pitched up.  We chatted for a while through open windows from the warmth of our cars before each calling Daren to see where he was… other than late, that is.

Finding no answer, we ran down the hill to the main road to give him some additional time grace, before heading up the hill again and on, towards the Beacon.  He called while we were still half way up, blaming an alarm clock that still thought it was ten-past-six.  If only!  I would still have been comfortably asleep under the cosy warmth of the winter duvet, instead of up here on a cold and drafty hill and feeling tired!

We pressed on despite the cold and reached the top of the hill before Cliff’s phone rang and he stopped to converse.  At the Beacon, his phone rang again, and he stopped to converse.  When we got to the white cow, a bit further on still, which Cliff thought would be on my map but unfortunately is not actually shown, Cliff’s phone rang again.  And then a second time.

We turned reluctantly for home and had made it past the Beacon and had met up with Daren coming the other way, before Cliff’s phone rang yet again… I can see why he normally doesn’t carry the damn thing!  The three of us ran back to the cars where Cliff, now needing to run an urgent errand elsewhere, sadly tootled off.

Rather than abandon Daren to the hills on his own, I tagged along and we ran down the hill into Clayton and along Underhill Lane.  We then took the tank tracks right the way back up to the top, running every step of the way.  Which was why, when my phone rang as we neared to top, I didn’t stop to take the call, but rather ran on conversing with a persistent sales person between gasps of breath!

My feeling as we ran down the hill towards Jack and Jill for the second time was very different to the first.  Gone was the feeling of cold and tiredness and I now felt warm and alive … that extra loop with its BIG hill was really worthwhile!

Between the seven  phone call stoppages or distractions (I actually thought it was eight, so I think I’ve even missed one out!) and the steep hills, the speed was never going to be fantastic (at 5.25mph it clearly isn’t), but I’m pleased that I ended up running for one hour 44 minutes and that I covered 9.15 or so miles.

It was really great fun running with both Cliff and Daren, separately and together!  And despite the different challenges that each of us has from a work perspective, it really is pretty cool being fit and in your forties and being able to schedule time so that you can spend it with friends like this!

And according to Daren’s clock, it’s still not time to get up yet!

Of juggs and bottoms

It was comparatively chillsome as I stood waiting for the guys at Falmer this morning.  It was clearly not that cold though, as Andy and Cliff arrived and stripped to shorts and t-shirts.  To be fair, I was also wearing shorts, but my Gore jacket had snuck itself on to my person and I didn’t feel warm enough to deny it passage.

Falmer is a great place to start from, as the initial hill is long, at 1km, but not too steep.  Once at the top, the next ten minutes is flat or slightly downhill so you get warmed up pretty well without overdoing it.  At the Newmarket Copse however, the boys seemed to have a tad of trouble the the gate.

What happens when people get used to having the gate opened for them

From there we ran up to the ridge and along Juggs Road, where my Gore jacket finally became a Gore belt.  We didn’t see any well-laden women while we were there, but I guess that they would probably take their wares by road these days… and before you assume that I’m being lewd in some way (qui, moi?), you may want to read this!

We were however somewhat surprised and delighted by the demonstration by the Advanced Mowing Class.

SAMs

Despite the absence of Sam, or any fishwives for that matter, the view of Seven Sisters from the top of Swanborough Hill was marvellous.

From Juggs Road

From here we dropped down to the bottom of the valley near the Balsdean pumping station and it was lovely to feel the now-warm wind blowing the cobwebs away.

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And then we started the long grind back up to the Newmarket ridge, taking in Standean Bottom and Falmer Bottom, before reaching the steep hill of the Castle Hill nature reserve.  From previously cruising along at the back, Andy suddenly exhibited the competitive streak for which he is well known, by pretty much sprinting up the hill, while Cliff and I languished behind… walking.

From the top it’s pretty much downhill all the way back to Falmer and on that last 1km section, I opened up my stride and let the speed flow.  At least for a while until I got the stitch!  I then cruised happily along until I heard Andy bearing down on me, at which point I opened up all the stops again to make certain that I reached the final gate at the front of the pack!

The run seemed like it was a really long way, but it was in fact only 8.5 miles.  It also seemed at least as fast as last Sunday, but at one hour 26 minutes, we only averaged 6mph.  We did stop a number of times to take pictures, to pee, to work out where we were, and where we were going, to pee again (Andy), and again etc… whether this would account for the 13 minute difference between 6mph and 7mph I don’t know, but it’s probably not that bad.

Andy at the back for a change

Winning smiles all round

Beep-Beep!

The 100m of cinder path out of the eleven miles of tarmac

I ran on the road this morning which should make me a road-runner, but alas, any one of the hundreds of drivers who passed me will be able to testify that I was really not moving that fast!

But at least I was out and about on this beautiful morning… unlike all the other mornings this week when, for a variety of reasons, I wasn’t!

Part of the reason for running on the road for a change was to get myself more used to it ahead of the marathon… and part because I’m wasn’t quite yet ready to trash the shininess of my new runners after the torrential rain last night!  I’m sure the Bok would understand, if no-one else!

The route was really not that inspiring and if I’m going to have to train on the road, I shall have to find a more interesting one… the picture above is slightly misleading as it’s the only 100m stretch of garden path in an otherwise flat and hard-surfaced route.

Simple (did I say boring?) route… down to Wivelsfield Station, left to London Road, left to Stone Pound Crossroads in Hassocks, left through Keymer and Ditching to Spatham Lane, left to Middleton Lane, left to Ditchling Common, Folders Lane and home.  And pretty much nothing else of note to report.

Eleven miles took me 1 hour 41 minutes which was actually quite good bearing in mind I stopped four times to stretch my stiff legs… in fact it’s pretty much the pace I ran Berlin marathon at… just over 6.5mph.

Since I’ve got a little space left, I thought I would share with you a childish game that I’ve played this weekend.  Under normal circumstances, very little would get past Kim, but she’s had a mother of a cold this week and has also been pre-occupied with a fascinating mediation course that she’s taking, so she’s not been as observant as normal.

My game was to see how many things I could do that she didn’t notice… although to be fair, I only really started playing it last night when she didn’t notice all the things I’d done while she’d been out.  So here (mainly for Kim) are the things that I did:

Saturday: Clean the insides of all the windows in the house, clean the two glazed internal doors and all the mirrors and glazed pictures, bleach the shower and then polish all the shiny bits (which she would have noticed last night and probably didn’t comment because I had my nose stuck into a James Bond film), clean the fish-tank, treat the exterior wood and decking on the tea-house with teak-oil, paint half of what was left to paint of the east wall of the house (which she would be unlikely to notice, to be fair), paint the facing side of next doors garage (rather more obvious!), clean brushes and implements and change ready to adopt a ‘I’ve been moping around the house all day’ kind of attitude for her return.  This latter she saw straight through, saying that I don’t normally mope around, but other than commenting that she liked the richness of the wood in the rain that later poured down (of the freshly oiled tea-house, otherwise dry beneath its extended canopy), she showed no signs of noticing.

Sunday: Pull the untidy tops off the day lilies and the poppies (seeds anyone?), cut the tall grasses back to give light to the other plants around them, put a second coat of decking protector on the top deck, paint the remaining part of the east wall of the house including cleaning brushes etc, do all the washing & drying (although she would have guessed that I would have done that), including her pyjamas that she had hidden on the back of the dressing room door (potentially less expected, especially as I hung them back there afterwards), drive to Focus to get some supplies but find it closed, go back, shower and adopt a similarly louche (not quite the right word, but you know what I mean) stance as yesterday.  I obviously didn’t do quite so much today, but then I did start with a long run!

Have a great week everybody peops!