The day I became a runner.....

  There are still a lot of dirty drifts around where I live but roads are clearing, the sun has shone, temperatures

Roads are clearing...

have risen and my old legs are slowly starting to defrost! As I laboriously trotted and slid through diminishing drifts this past week it came to mind what Rev David Macha said last week about it being 'very good training'.  I certainly felt stronger, so much so I began to toy with the idea of doing a bit of speedwork. After a three mile warm-up over Castle Hill, I turned into the cricket field for a few fast repetitions. Most of the snow had gone from the flat turf so I was able to run the longest stretch of the field unheeded - for 130m or so.  For a change I was wearing my Garmin which I clicked (without actually looking at it) at the beginning and end of each repetition. I'd planned to do twelve reps but felt another four wouldn't do any harm. I was feeling good. On reaching home I was rather pleased with what the Garmin told me when I plugged it into computer. During the 6.07 mile run with 276ft elevation gain I'd actually done 18 reps (never could count) every single one of them in 28secs. Now there's consistency for you! What I wasn't so happy about was that I'd run each rep at an average speed of only 6.52min/mile. OK, I wasn't pushing it, but when I recall running each and every mile of the London marathon at an average 6.36min/mile pace, then the cricket field session didn't look quite so rosy. Mind you, that marathon was 19 years ago so I suppose allowances must be made for old age and decrepitude.

  

..and so is the cricket field where I sometimes train

Come to think of it (he says with chest puffed out and broad smile) I was rather good at marathons having won an age category in seven of eight starts with an M55 course record thrown in for good measure. My baptism of fire came on a boiling hot July day in 1987 when I lined up with 373 others for the start of the notorious Pennine marathon. Never mind undulating, it had at least twenty hills which, according to Anquet, amount to 2,750ft of ascent. It roller-coasted to its highest point at 10 miles (915ft), dropped 300ft, then climbed back to 760ft at 22 miles - just where most people would likely hit the wall.  My only previous experience of a marathon had been in watching the 1986 race when a smiling Tanya Ball of Serpentine Harriers won the ladies race in a little over three hours. "Huh, I can do that" I'd thought, and the seed had been planted. 

   I'd been a jogger for only 15 months and hadn't really done much at all by way of marathon training. A few

Pennine marathon route and profile

weeks prior to the Pennine I'd been sauntering across some of the wilder parts of Scotland on a 200 mile coast to coast walk (TGO Challenge) and I'll admit to being more than a little nervous in the couple of weeks before the marathon. But come the day, the nerves had settled and I was probably as calm as any of the more experienced runners. I needed to be. Drinks stations were every three miles which some reckoned insufficient given it was the hottest day so far that year. I carried no water nor anything to eat. Approaching 18 miles I passed lots of runners who'd ground to a halt by the roadside, some just stood there, others tried to keep their legs moving, some sat with bowed heads looking forlorn and totally knackered.  Blisters, dehydration and heat exhaustion had taken their toll resulting in 58 of those stragglers failing to finish. Helpful or concerned spectators brought extra water from their houses, children offered fruit and other goodies while gardeners sprayed us with hose pipes to cool us down. I kept going, ignoring the handouts, though struggling and having to walk for a while climbing towards that 22 mile marker. I suppose I'd hit the wall but it was nearly all downhill after that.

   I crossed the line in 3:30:04 to take 82nd place of 316 finishers. Mike Critchley of Bolton United Harriers

Breaking the M55 course record in 1988

had won it in 2:34:07, a chap I've met many times since at the Arncliffe 4 mile race which he organizes each year in August. Eileen Denby of Denby Dale Travellers survived the blistering conditions to be first lady in 3:31:17. The best was yet to come. I'd wanted to go home to rehydrate and soak my aching legs in a hot bath, but my chauffeur/sister insisted on watching the prize giving before we went. I got the shock of my life when I was called to the podium as winner of the M55 category, a silver cup placed in my hand together with a voucher that would buy me a new pair of shoes and an embossed towel that has accompanied me to every race since. It was my first ever win, at anything, and it totally changed my life. That was 26 years ago but I remember details of that race as if it were yesterday. And I remember telling the race secretary, Alan Sykes, I'd break the M55 course record the following year.  Gone was the casual jogger who'd started this game to lose weight and get the old body back to some sort of shape. Things had gotten serious. A runner had been born, one that henceforth hated to lose, and God help any contemporaries that lined up beside him.

Can you tell I've just been watching  'Fire on the Track' - the story of Steve Prefontaine's extraordinary life?

Autumn runs

Woodland colours en route to Castle Hill

    After six frustrating weeks the old ribs are slowly healing so that over the past few days I've managed to clock up some enjoyable miles with seemingly no ill effects. On Wednesday I set off on my Castle hill route - yet again - in some unusually warm November weather that made running a sheer joy. As I've mentioned before, towards the end of this route there are a couple of 'Watch your Speed' traffic signs which, up till now, have always been 0.27 mile apart, according to my Garmin 305.   However, for reasons best known to itself. it has decided to chop off 0.02 mile and reduce the distance to 0.25, a straight ¼ mile.  This is all very well but it means that when I run this distance in the usual 1 minute 36 seconds my pace has dropped from 5.58 to 6.18 - which does nothing for my morale. This infernal gadget is slowing me down. Next time I'll run without it!

River Wharfe on the way to Burnsall and Appletreewick

     Saturday's run was a delightful six miles along the riverbank to Appletreewick, and back. It was another clear day with extensive views and sharp imagery. Only problem was, I forgot to take my camera so was kicking myself every time a likely shot materialized - like the incredible reflections on the still waters of the river, or the dozen or so canoeists paddling downstream, or the lone goosander sunning itself in a calm backwater. The miles passed easily, running at a steady pace while marvelling at all the magic of another glorious day.

     Sunday.  After a convivial evening of wining and dining that extended long into the night it was a somewhat sluggish old Runningfox that set off for Church on Sunday morning. Things speeded up a bit when I realised I'd forgotten my collection money and had to jog back for it, only reaching my pew on the last clang of the bell. But it was worth it as my somewhat depleted batteries were recharged at the communion rail - though I'm not sure it did my knees any good!

Grassington Bridge

     Our minister, Rev David Macha, is a keen runner who completed this year's Great North Run in a respectable 1 hour 38 minutes. Next year he plans to run two of my favourite races, the Burnsall 10 mile road race and the Upper Wharfedale off-road ½ marathon, both of which are tough courses with many hundreds of feet of ascent.  If I run these two races I'll be competing as an MV80 which is off the end of the scale as far as prizes are concerned. I'll have to think about that.

     In the afternoon as mist descended into the valley my wonderful partner and I set off through the fields for a five mile circuit to Grassington Bridge, then back along the riverbank where a few faster spurts made this into a fartlek session. It brought my mileage to 14 for the week, the most I've run since my unfortunate accident. It will be ages before I'm back up to speed again.  But I'm working on it.

Running back from Grassington Bridge along the misty riverbank

     Whilst surfing the net the other day I happened to click on the Mallerstang Yomp website. The 'Yomp' takes place annually over a 23 mile route (with 4,000ft height gain) over Wild Boar Fell, Swarth Fell, Mallerstang Edge and Nine Standards Rigg before dropping down to the Start/Finish point at Kirkby Stephen Grammar School.  I ran this race way back in 1996 and, quite by accident I'd imagine, set a new MV60 course record of 3 hours 42 minutes. Understandably I've been quite proud of this record over the years, so imagine my feelings on discovering that the official website lists a certain R.Moulding of Blackburn as the current MV60 record holder with his time of 3 hours 45 minutes - i.e. three whole minutes slower than my time. Needless to say an email to the organisers, with an attachment of the 1996 results, went hurtling through cyberspace at a great rate of knots with an urgent request to rectify this mistake PDQ.  As yet, my record hasn't been restored but an email from David Prince, treasurer to the organising committee, indicates they're looking into the matter and will be in touch with me soon.  But how soon is soon?  Watch this space!