Category: Photos

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Very very very very brave

‘Very, very, very, very’, the nice lady in the bright pink sock near the top of Ditchling Beacon paused momentarily to find an adjective which might not offend me, settling on ‘brave’.  Stupid would have been closer to the truth.

The morning had started slowly, with me sleepily escaping to the tea house with a quadspresso to read the Economist.  I ate a banana rather than having some more meaningful fuel as I vainly expected to be out running before too long.  By the time Kim offered me breakfast, over two hours later, I was starting to get peckish, but instead of joining her I finally made it out the front door.

The ruscsack remained unchanged from last week and despite its comparative lightness at 4.5kg, it still felt pretty heavy as I started running.  In fact I could easily weigh that much more without anyone noticing anything odd.  Sadly it looks likely that the final TMB pack will be more than twice as heavy so I’m going to have to ramp up the training weight sometime… just not today!

I hadn’t decided where I was going until I made the turn at the bottom of the road… it was right, so only then did I realise I must be running to the Beacon.

It was a pleasant day for a run, though strange for August becuse of the muddy puddles on the path either side of Oldlands Mill.  Running up the Beacon I realised that I was experiencing no particular pain, just a lot of heat, hence the comment from the nice lady was probably a reflection on the colour of my face, which was in turn was probably a reflection of her pink socks.

I made the top of the Beacon in 53 minutes, which at 5.67mph is a perfectly acceptable time for me without the pack, but I allowed myself three minutes to cool down before I made my way back down.  In many ways going down with the additional weight was harder work than going up, but it was still not painful and I made it safely down the tricky path.

I chose to run down past Sporting Cars and along East End Lane to rejoin my outbound route at Boddington Lane, where the sharp ascent of Home Hill really did tax my legs… such that I paused at the top to take photos.

Then it was a short run back home via Oldlands Mill gleaming with seemingly fresh paint in the sunshine.  I arrived back in 49 minutes, or 6.1mph which is very pleasing for a largely off-road track.  Overall, 10 miles in 1.45 gave an average, including my half-way pause, of 5.71mph.

Still not feeling wiped out I got out to cut the grass (and the green across the road) and then the hedge, but now I AM feeling wiped out… such that I can hear the sofa calling gently to me!  Zzzzzzzzzzz

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My goodness, you’ve put on some weight!

At the end of our run on Monday, there was a short exchange that has set some very particular wheels in motion. Well, legs really. Up until that exchange, Daren had been looking for someone mad enough to run the Tour d’Mont Blanc with. ‘Nuff said?

Bearing in mind that the TMB route is circa 120 miles long, with about 10,000m of height gain and height loss (greater than climbing Everest from sea level), it may seem strange that I wasn’t out on the Downs this morning doing some hill work.

Actually, part of the reason was that I had been edging grass verges yesterday (see England Garden Gang) and also felt as if I’d put on a little weight (more of that later). Rather than get injured in early training, I thought I’d stick to a flat route.

I set out at 8.25am to get the run over before it got too hot and made my way down the road route that I’ve run frequently… down to Wiveslfield Station, along to the London Road and then South towards Hassocks. It’s a good route for thinking about stuff and because I know where the mile markers are, I’m able to gauge my pace to a certain extent.

Despite not feeling as fleet of foot as normal, I made good time and was surprised how consistent my pace was at 9 minute miles. This is not the fastest I’ve run down here (which is an average 7.9 minutes per mile), but more recently I’ve struggled to run it this quickly.

I turned in Hassocks at the four mile marker and ran back to the outskirts of Burgess Hill, before returning to the Hassocks turn point a second time, now six miles. In late February when I first ran this route, the guys from Crawley Community Payback were busy doing the verge edges on the outskirts of Hassocks and it was still really clear the short stretch that they had completed. The balance of the way down the road, the path is getting narrower between the encroaching verge on one side, which is breaking up the pavement, and the encroaching hedge on the other. Bearing in mind this is both a footpath and a well-used cycle path, I think it deserves a little more care, not that people in the Council care what I think!

I retraced my steps back via Wivelsfield Station and up Junction Road making it to the end of the ten-mile run in a shade less than 1.30… 9 minutes per mile or 6.67mph. Despite being pretty red in the face compared to normal, it was a nice run and good timing to boot… rather than getting hotter, it was actually raining lightly as I charged up the road towards the end and within ten minutes of getting back the rain was coming down like stair rods.

But wait a minute… or rather, weight a minute. The reason I felt heavier this morning was because I was wearing a rucsac weighing 10lbs, or 4.5kg and I still ran faster than the last time I did this route! It’s likely that the TMB pack will be more than twice this weight, but I feel reassured… nay, as Phil Stupples would probably say, I feel GOOD, nah, na na, na naaa, I knew that I would now, la, la la, la laaa!

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Tank Tracks (Alternative) route

There are many downsides to being currently underutilised workwise, but one major upside is being able to run with friends on a beautiful weekday morning… a little like a male version of the ladies who do coffee, but without the challenge of parking prams in the coffee shop.

The run this morning was also a little more poignant as our very good friend Penny’s dad Brian passed away suddenly last week and he has touched each of our lives. I’ve known Penny since Primary school and Brian was like a bright red, fun thread weaving its way through life’s rich tapestry.

Probably like most people, I regret not spending more time with my family and friends, but thankfully my last memory of Brian is only from April this year and is a great way to remember him. He was standing in their flat with the sun streaming through the open doors, chatting comfortably with us about an irrepressible burst pipe, whilst wearing only his underpants. He was a sensibly uninhibited man endowed with the loveliest of families, a real sense of fun and, well, let’s just say that he was clearly, well, well endowed! Too much information, maybe, but that’s good memories for you!

So four of us met for a run at Jack & Jill in the high humidity of a bright, sunny morning… Daren, Dai, Henna and I. Dai was keen not to do any hills so we gratefully followed his lead (though maybe it was really Henna’s lead)… which took us down the hill to Clayton, along Underhill Lane and up the path to the right of the Tank Tracks. Having reached the top we decided the correct notation should be Tank Tracks (Alternative), as it’s almost steep enough to be a climbing route!

At the top we turned left and ran towards the Beacon, with much conversation about how to stay more or less on the flat stuff. There’s a small pond alongside the path and it being hot, Henna suddenly hurled herself in to cool down… some people are just born crazy! Then Dai led us to the flat South, down towards Patcham and around in a grand sweep of hot, dry hills back to Pyecombe Golf Course and the cars.

Opinions varied as to the distance, depending on whether the satnav had been started at the car park, or five minutes into the run at the bottom of the hill, but we finally agreed that it was 6.3 miles, which we had covered in an amiable 1.23.

We did discuss elongating the run as we had done on Sunday, but the new MUM rule (Made Up Mileage) states that we can only do that if the distance is over the .5 mile mark. Frankly it’s a fairly elitist rule though, as without a satnav I generally have no idea how far I’ve run in the first place!

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Of Running Stitch

Strangely, despite the severity of the run today, the reference to running stich is not passing comment on our dubious fitness levels, but rather on our poor needlework skills.

After a typically lengthy absence, it was an honour today to run with The BIG Man, fresh from his travels and travails.

The BIG man’s plan was somewhat crazy, especially bearing in mind that he was sporting something of a hangover and I was suffering from sleep deprivation… having gone to bed around 2am and gotten up again at 6am, on a Sunday, I ask you. We were to run along the Downs, taking each consecutive path between the top and the bottom… my expectation was that we probably wouldn’t get too far!

In order to run up the Tank Tracks, we started by running down the hill from Jack & Jill to Clayton and along the road… nice start, especially as we arrived at a mutually agreeable pace that is generally referred to as Slow. The pace suited us well on the inevitable first climb and we managed admirably… just as well as we had a spectator watching us towards the top in the form of a friendly competitor of mine, Paul Hopwood. Not that we could stop to chat for fear of breaking our resolve.

In retrospect we could have gone straight back down the adjacent bostal from there, but instead we ran along the top to the more vertical path that drops down to the bottom of the Ditchling Beacon road. Cliff ran up and down this steep track countless times (I think to emulate the height of Everest) in order to gain the sponsorship money to go on Operation Raleigh all those years ago.

We ran along Underhill Lane and back up my favourite Beacon track which wends its way up slightly further down the hill from the climbing road. Two hills didn’t seem quite enough, so we ran down the next bostal to Westmeston and back up through the top of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee V… I seem to vaguely recall that there had been plans to plant trees to form another letter next to it (R for Regina or A for Albert?), but she sadly died in the intervening period… although the validity of my source is forgotten so this may be totally spurious!

As every good needle-worker knows, what we had done to this point could be considered to be running-stitch and not the most stable of sewing styles. Bravado (or maybe memories of needlework class at Woodingdean Primary School) therefore made me suggest that we did cross-stitch, zagging our outbound zigs on the return leg and creating a much stronger, er… well, let’s not try to take the analogy too far, huh?

Thankfully the BIG man, he sayeth (words to the effect of) No, which let me off the hook from my rather stupid suggestion. Instead, we ran gently back along the top, via the trig point at Ditchling Beacon, to Jack and Jill again.

Back at the cars Daren made one tiny error, mentioning that we had completed 9.75 miles… too close for me not to want to complete the other quarter-mile. He gracefully agreed (quite frankly, this is blatant writer’s licence) and we ran back off up the hill, returning a few minutes later having completed the requisite distance… in some ways it was a neat knot to complete our needlework class.

So, ten pretty arduous miles in 2.10, an unsurprisingly slow 4.6mph, and one of the most enjoyable runs in ages… in between all our laughing and whooping, of course!

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Back to the Bronze Age

A couple of weeks back I went to Plumpton Agricultural College where the Principle, Des Lambert, gave members of BHBPA a guided tour of the facility.  It was a really interesting evening, which started by him driving us up onto the Downs in a LandRover to show us the college from above.  Once up there he gave us a fascinating history lesson of the area, which included pointing out where there had been a Bronze Age settlement.  He also regaled us with tales of a couple of the interesting characters who are often to be found walking up on the Downs.

So my task today, after the second ‘no-run’ Sunday in a month last weekend (more about that later), was to find said settlement starting from my folks place.

I had envisaged it as a fairly straightforward run with a diversion, but when I reached the top of Woodingdean I decided to try running along the new path that follows the Falmer Road to, er… Falmer.

Once over the A27 bridge and through the other half of the village I passed Cliff’s old place (the house, incidentally used to be old and full of character/s, but now sadly has the appearance of a new-build) and then noticed a path opposite, which I followed up to the Uni sports pavilion.  From here I took the path towards Blackcap, but dropped off to the left at the top of Waterpit Hill.  [Yes, Cliff, I’m looking at the map!]  This goes down and then up steeply to my goal.

There’s not much to see (the people are all long gone, for starters), but it’s a beautiful tract of land with a wooded valley winding down the hill.  And amazingly, one of the people that Des mentioned, Michael, who was out for a walk.  He was the kind of charming and interesting gentlemen, like Des himself, whom one could have happily chatted to all day, so I at least paused to chat for a short time… while he gallantly prevented one of his dogs from eating me!

The land eventually rejoins the South Downs Way but not where I expected it to, so I’m glad I didn’t stick to my original plan!  From there I took a wander up to the next wood to see if I could see the remnants of an old house Des had mentioned… alas no joy though.

Then I struck for home again, this time running down towards Balmer Farm.  In the midst of the farm was a lone signpost propped up against the wall and though I was fairly certain that it was pointing in the wrong direction, I followed it across towards Falmer to save myself having to run alongside the busy A27.  The downside was that it crossed a deep valley and by the time I reached the top of the other side, near the sports pavilion, I was pooped.  And on the wrong side of a barbed wire fence… so the sign was definitely not correct.

I ate some jelly babies and made my way down into Falmer before retracing my steps back along the Falmer Road path, returning to my folks’ place in 2.17.  Allowing for maybe 10 minutes split between talking to Michael and searching for an absent house, I covered the 10.9 miles at an average pace of 5.15mph.  Pitiful pace, but a really wonderful run!

I mentioned that there was a reason for my absence from these pages last weekend.  You can find it at www.EnglandGardenGang.org.  It may sound a bit crazy, but it’s worth a thought!  Enjoy!

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Over and out…

… as in, the run was over and I was out for the count.

I met Mark up at Jack & Jill yesterday morning for our 14 mile circuit and though it felt like an early start, it was late enough to bump into Maria coming back from a later than normal 8-mile run!

We set out on good form but I didn’t get too far up the hill before my energy levels started to wane.  I seriously doubted that I would go the distance, even though I wasn’t quite ready to give up at that point.

Mark has a simple strategy for keeping me going… he asks me to explain something to him.  In this case it was the barmy idea that I alluded to last week, the explanation for which carried me about four miles… you can tell that Mark has tremendous patience!

By this time we were running down towards the A27 so it seemed churlish to bail out there, especially as we overtook a couple of cyclists on the lump and raced to get to the bottom of the next hill before them.  We reached the half-way turn (just ahead of the cyclists, by dint of the narrowness of the path) at 1.10, meaning that we had averaged 6 mph.

The return leg, by comparison, took us 1.30 and although I was guilty of a couple of lame-excuse pauses along the way, the real delays were due to a couple of people we stopped to chat to.

First there was a guy with a £3,500++ Cervelo R5 that even I could appreciate… what an amazing looking bicycle, and SO light!  We weren’t the only ones ogling, as another half a dozen people also stopped while we were standing there talking to him… he was waiting for his cycling buddy to catch him up Ditchling Beacon, which he eventually did!

Second was Gary, another of the people Mark has met running along the Downs over the years (I’m also one of them, if you remember).  This conversation continued long enough that I watched a girl on a horse approach, mosey past and continue plodding up and along the crest of the hill… long enough that it was hard work to start running again!

We ran the final mile or so to the cars, ending with time elapsed of 2.40 for our 14 miles, average 5.25mph (although the return leg actually averaged 4.66mph against 6mph outbound, due to the  various conversations).  Mark probably has a better sense of the running time, but it was way better that I had expected bearing in mind my initial energy levels.

I returned home and collapsed into a chair in the garden, falling asleep for long enough to get tan-lines on my legs.  I then stumbled lightheadedly through the shower and fell into bed where I stayed, comatose, for another four hours… even then I belonged to the sofa for the rest of the evening!

All of which pales by comparison to Pete & Cliff, whose weekend race was over 103 miles in distance and 13,500 feet in combined ascent along the South Downs Way.  It took them 29.5 hours to complete… I’d need to sleep for a fortnight after that!

Respect!  Over and out!

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Early start Sunday

I was planning to help my folks move some flotsam & jetsam and since it was likely to be another warm day, I went to bed early (after an energetic day cutting grass and polishing my car) and got up at 6am.  This meant I was out running by seven and down at their place shortly after ten.

It was a glorious day and already warm at 7am and I was surprised that I had a good flow of energy as I ran off down the road.

Alas, the energy only lasted about 2 minutes and I then had to work hard to keep myself moving.  All the vague inclines felt like major hills and even the downhills offered little respite.

I ran down to Wivelsfield Station, along to the London Road and all the way down past Hassocks to a predetermined place that I know is the five mile marker.

And then I ran back again.  Fortunately an idea was forming in my crazy mind on the way back so the miles went more easily, despite the fact that the return leg took exactly the same time as the outbound.

So ten miles in 1.36, 6.25 mph… and one crazy idea, yet to be unveiled.

The rest of the morning was lifting & carrying stuff around the house & garden and to the tip and it’s little surprise that I had an hour of sleep this afternoon!

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Taking a more permissive footpath

It was a Woodingdean day, partly because it was Father’s Day and partly because I had forgotten it was the London to Brighton bike ride.  In fact I only realised the latter en route and was then surprised how easy the traffic was… although it was only a little after 9am.

My intention today was to run to Southease, crossing sufficiently into Cliff’s back yard to call it an incursion without running the risk of discovery.  That’s nonsense of course… I just figured that if I ran the other 2.5 miles to Cliff’s place, then there would be little chance that I would feel like running back again the same day!

My outbound route took me the straightforward way, leaving Woodingdean on Drove Avenue and following the ridge (and the South Downs Way)  all the way around in an arc and down to Rodmell, where I found a new and may I say very open-minded footpath which took me along to the Southease road.

I crossed the bridge quickly (in case of Trolls) and ran as far as the station to prove that I really was there.  So far so good, with 6.6-ish miles taking me 67 minutes, 5.9mph.

The return leg was slightly more convoluted and seemingly, considerably more uphill.  I started by running up and through the deliciously pretty Telscombe (as opposed to the nearby Telscombe Cliffs, which I don’t personally find so charming).  The village sits in a hollow so there’s a very steep hill to climb to get out to the South.

At the top of the road I then turned right with the intention of running around in a little arc to Balsdean Reservoir, but on a whim instead dropped down into the back of Saltdean and ran up past the football ground.  It looked like it might be a more direct route… but wasn’t at all and rather than having to run up the short hill above the pumping station, I was committed to the longer, steeper High Hill above Pickers Hill Farm.

I always think of the reservoir being at the bottom of Woodingdean, but it’s a mile from there to the outskirts, all uphill of course.

Only then could I drop down Balsdean Road to get back without too much more effort.

The return leg was 7.5 miles and took me 90 minutes, a poor 5mph, although in my defence I did stop to take 19 photos en route.

So 14.1 miles in 2.40, giving an average speed of 5.3mph.

My fears about traffic were not unfounded and there were queues back to Falmer and onto the A27 going towards Woodingdean and also at least back to Pyecombe heading towards Brighton.  Fortunately I was going the other way and whilst it was sluggish in a couple of places, I can’t complain.

Surprisingly my legs have yet to feel tired… although there’s time yet!

 

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Drizzle

It’s been an April-like week here, with the weather alternating between clear sunshine and heavy showers… even hail at one point, which is not such great fun to run in.  So it was a relief to wake up this morning to a kind of normal, overcast day, even though, as I ran off down the road just after 9am, it started to drizzle lightly.

I was quite surprised by the energy I had, fairly bouncing off down the road and it caused me to wonder what was different.

One thing was a little effort this week using some different muscle groups, namely my arms, which you can read about http://davidjfoster.info/?p=329.  Cliff is forever advocating that I do more cross training and I know that he’s right… an hour of this every week would certainly help, aside from putting a huge smile on my face!

I had decided to run to the Beacon today and I did so via Oldlands Mill and Ditchling.  Nothing much to report aside from a huge fallen branch that someone had kindly cut a chunk out to stop it completely blocking the path.

As I neared the bottom of my favourite track up the Beacon, I caught a group of cyclists catching their breath ahead of the climb.  I then ran on up the track and on up to the Beacon itself, arriving in 49 minutes, a respectable 6.1 mph average speed over the 5-mile route.

The drizzle was marginally heavier up there, which made the cool wind more apparent, so I turned straight round and headed back.

I reckon that the two cyclists I found catching their breath by the roadside at the top of the hill were from the group I had passed at the bottom, one of whom was recovering horizontally!  As I ran down I encountered the rest of the group at various stages including one who had only reached the half-way mark.  It’s nice to know that runners can beat cyclists at something… there’s no competition in any other regard.

I guess the ideal compromise would be to have a Brompton Bicycle in a comfortable back-pack so you can run up all the hills and coast down the other side!  Maybe it’s time I had a coffee with Emerson!

The route back was equally uneventful and not stopping to take photos probably helped me get home in just 45 minutes, average 6.67 mph.

Overall, 10 miles in 1.34, 6.38mph average, which I’m pretty happy about!

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A selection of surly and sociable cyclists

First, let me say congratulations to Phil Stupples for getting a PB at Stockholm… and beating my Brighton marathon time by a couple of minutes to boot.  It sounds as though the Stockholm course also has more hills than Brighton, so I reckon that sorts out which of us is quicker… and we already know which of us is older too so you win on both counts!

This morning was a Woodingdean run and I set out into an overcast and windy morning with the aim of running to Blackcap & back… the run that I had intended to do the other weekend when I instead met Cliff & Joe.

As I ran down past Newmarket Copse I started to encounter cyclists coming the other way and it turned out they were on the Argus three-day event from Winchester to Eastbourne.

Sharing a narrow path with oncoming cyclists can be slightly irritating if said people are surly and lacking in spatial awareness, which many seemed to be today.  They appeared to assume that I was happy to get out of the way and to run through the stinging nettles & bushes at the side of the path… or stop and wait.  And all without so much as a thank you.

The few that actually thanked me, or were just good humoured & sociable, made it all the more obvious that the rest were just lacking in manners, including the one who almost ran me over despite the fact that I had stopped and was cowering well into the bushes.  An apology might have been nice!

As I’ve written here before, I totally understand how difficult it is for cyclists to open and particularly to shut gates, but this fact does not absolve them of the responsibility for doing so.  Horse riders have a similar challenge, if not more so, but they somehow manage the trick.

I ran up past where I met Cliff & Joe and kept going on up the hill, and up the hill, and up the hill, reaching the top of Blackcap at the 1.06 mark.

Here I unwrapped an energy bar, the latest in my recent trial of lightweight sustenance and after overcoming the shock of finding it to be pink, like chewing gum, started chewing.  Let’s be kind and say that it’s good for the jaw muscles, has a passable taste, but is not quick food by any stretch of the imagination.. it took me four minutes to eat half the bar, at which point I got bored and pocketed the rest.

I started running back and briefly caught up with a cyclist removing all the race markers and I suspected, ensuring that all the gates were shut after the ensemble.  Yeah, right!  Of the following five gates I followed him through he left three ajar, including one to a field of sheep.  Not great PR for the Argus methinks, or for the race organisers.

As I neared the A27, it started to drizzle and by the time I had climbed back up past Newmarket Copse again, it was light rain.  But it was warm enough not to worry, besides which the wind was now fully behind me.

Somehow the return leg took one minute less and the overall time of 2.15 for 12.4 miles, average 5.5mph, included the time to eat half a powerbar.