West District Cross Country Championships, 6th December 2015

In 2012, I ran the West District Cross Country at Ardgowan Estate in Inverkip. It proved to be the most gruelling cross country experience I could remember. Below, in italics, is an extract from my blog report back then.

"I ran the National Cross Country Championship on Hampstead Heath, and helped Gateshead Harriers to second place team medals. There is an old saying about 'horses for courses', and this race showed me just how true it is. My style of running is best suited to bouncing off the smooth hard surface of a track or road. The 1981 'National' consisted of 9 miles of unrelenting deep sticky mud, and I slipped and slid my way to 56th place, five minutes behind the winner Julian Goater."

Source- Charlie Spedding, From Last to First, page 96 (first paperback edition).

The West District Cross Country only took place yesterday but the experience was such a horrific one, I cannot get it off my chest quickly enough. I like flicking through Charlie Spedding's book every so often when I need something to help me in running. I came across the above quote. I could sum up my experience at Ardgowan Estate, Inverkip in one, brief paragraph.

I ran the Scottish West District Cross Country Championship on Ardgowan Estate, Inverkip, and helped Cambuslang Harriers to first place team medals. There is an old saying about 'horses for courses', and this race showed me just how true it is. My style of running is best suited to bouncing off the smooth hard surface of a track or road. The 2012 'West' consisted of 6 miles of unrelenting deep sticky mud, and I slipped and slid my way to 14th place, 2 minutes 53 seconds behind the winner Derek Hawkins.

I used to be an avid reader, a past time which has fallen by the wayside in recent years apart from when on holiday or other trips away from home. I've been trying to re-establish the habit and, at the time of writing, I am on my 4th book since mid November. I started off by reading Charlie Spedding's book again which is probably why the above quote is fresh in my mind. I never thought I would encounter a race like Inverkip again. This year's West District Cross Country at Bellahouston Park proved me wrong. The 6 mile, 4 lap course, of which you were lucky if half a mile was runnable, comprised thick, unrelenting mud caused by the stormy winter weather. Thankfully conditions on the day were ideal but the damage to the course had been done. For once, I was grateful for a Sunday race because had it been 24 hours earlier, the weather being so bad I was soaked through and frozen after a morning 3 mile jog, I genuinely wouldn't have bothered racing.

Conditions were fine though so I and over 200 others lined up for the senior men race. I was wearing new spikes, a strategically chosen black pair. Well, is there any point buying flashy colours to run cross countries? I made a decent, unimpeded start and got a few strides behind me. Then the fun started. Before long, we were encountering squelching, ankle deep mud which would not have been out of place in an event such as Tough Mudder. Not being a fan of such a thing, you can imagine how I was feeling. As the sting in the tail, the only decent parts were uphill, including a sharp incline towards the end of the lap. The rest was an awful, mucky mess. I originally planned to find the best line and follow it. That can only happen when there is a best line to follow. Here, there was none. The only solution was to put one foot in front of the other, keep moving forward and eventually the finish would arrive.

For 2 laps my head was all over the place and I had to strongly fight the urge to simply stop. Somehow I found myself clear in 8th place and maintaining it. "This is bloody awful" I shouted to Charlie Thomson as he encouraged me though "bloody" wasn't the adjective I used.

Above: being shadowed by Grant Baillie (East Kilbride AC) on one of the more runnable parts of the course. Photo courtesy of Scott Martin.

Preparing to enter the 3rd lap, something changed my mindset. Running 50m or so adrift of 2 Shettleston runners, one of them simply darted to the right, ducked under the tape and stopped, shaking his head. I had moved up a place to 7th without requiring any extra exertion. I abandoned any more thoughts of stopping. Yes I was still moving like Bambi on ice skates but in a more determined fashion. At the turn into the final lap though, I spotted Robert Gilroy closing me down. I kept going until at one point while lapping a couple of people, I saw Robert overtaking me. I resolved to stay with him and kept a few strides/squelches behind. Out the corner of my eye I saw him look at me but, as I've said, my race head was now on so I ignored him and looked straight ahead. We approached the last hill into the trees where I decided to go for it and overtook him. I knew there was still a chance he'd catch me on the way down so I took a risk and threw myself down the descent into the home straight. Finding a small part of greenery, I strode hard along it even though it meant running on a camber. 

I had rallied enough to finish a hugely relieved 7th place with Robert 6 seconds adrift. In the end I was no more than about 100m away from 5th placed Lachlan Oates. My recent record on muck heaps has been improving with 11th place at last year's West in Linwood and my recent run in a different part of Bellahouston in the National 4km. To be much more head strong in these sorts of races is encouraging.

Our clubmate Kyle McLellan dominated the race, taking the title by half a minute from Shettleston's Matthew Turner, over 2 minutes ahead of me. Kyle, myself, Robert, Kenneth Campbell, Kerry-Liam Wilson and Iain Reid were the 6 counters who took the team silver medals in a tight contest won by Shettleston by 10 points.

As well as being grateful for the Sunday race, I was glad to be off work the next day and to have an easy rest/recovery week ahead after a 10 week spell of consistent training. I allowed myself a beer that night to reflect on a job well done. 

Finally, the severity of the course can be illustrated by the fact that I ran almost as quickly during my 4 mile warm down from the park to Hampden via Shawlands as I did in the race. Many others could probably say the same.

Glasgow University Road Race, 28th November 2015

It had been longer ago than I thought, 2010, since I last raced the Glasgow University Road Race. I had intended to go in 2014 but the race fell one day after I left my old job. Feeling completely exhausted, I would not have made the 2pm start having woken up at 12.30pm! Taking in Queen's Park's 2-0 away win at Clyde was my alternative afternoon's entertainment.

No such problems this year and, despite the atrocious weather, I decided not to wimp out and made the trip to Garscube Estate. Plus, I had forked out for new racing shoes.

I felt a bit nervous so agreed with my Dad I would quietly collect my number, prepare then be sociable afterwards. The course was the same 2 lap course I had run before though had possibly been slightly below 5 miles in the past since it had been remeasured and the start line moved further back. While raining by 2pm, it wasn't windy, good enough for me. There was a decent field with Robbie Simpson (Scottish hill running international), Marc Austin (last year's winner), Murray Strain (Inter District Cross Country winner), Calum McKenzie (part of Corstorphine's strong senior team), Aiden Gilbride (a fast improving teenager from East Kilbride) and Robert Gilroy (little introduction needed) to name a few. As a reminder, a lap was out Garscube Estate, down the Switchback, by the Forth and Clyde Canal, through Dawsholm Road and Park, onto Maryhill Road and back into Garsube. Then repeat.

I took the first hill towards the Vet School gate cautiously, running in the pack. At the top, I gradually moved through and by the bottom of the Switchback had worked up into 3rd place. Robbie was setting the pace with the lead bike with Marc behind him. I felt I was going well as I strived to strike a balance between keeping in contact and maintaining a gap on the chasing pack. Climbing uphill from Dawsholm Park onto Maryhill Road, I closed Marc down and surmised with a spurt at the top I may gain another place. Alas, he found a second wind and re-established the gap he had before as I gave chase along the straight stretch of Maryhill back to the estate into another lap.

I sensed being in 3rd place with several good runners at my back I must be moving okay. I struggled up the Vet School hill this time and, seeming to need reassurance, checked my watch at the top which marked 3 miles. 15:01. Super, nothing wrong with that. The hill had taken its toll so I broke the remainder of the race into stages. Hammer the two downhill stretches (the Switchback and Dawsholm Road) and hang on for the remainder. By Maryhill Road, I really was hanging on with it being more about staying in 3rd than catching those ahead. Both Robbie and Marc had decent gaps. I never however gave up hope. You never ever should.

I held it together and crossed the finish line in 3rd place with 25:14, meaning a decent 10:13 for the 2 mile segment from 3-5 miles. Robbie won the race in 24:34 with Marc 2nd in 25:03. Murray Strain was next after me in 25:32 followed by Calum McKenzie (25:37), Robert Gilroy (25:53) and Aidan Gilbride (26:15). Also from our club, Alex Lamond, running for Strathclyde University, finished in 30:34, appropriately receiving the Sheila Fairweather Memorial trophy as leading female student. Finally, fellow former Hare and Hound Dean McNaught clocked 31:26. 198 people finished the race, a commendable number for such a foul day and 20 more than 2010. Often you need to manage your nerves and channel them in the correct manner. Thankfully, on this occasion, I did.

After a welcome hot shower, I enjoyed the Hares and Hounds post race hospitality, received a £10 voucher as a prize and made acquaintance with some of the current Hares and Hounds members and reacquainted with a few from my time (Des Gilmore, Michael Pugh, Kevin Farmer). I'm repeating myself from the 2010 report but I'm glad to see the club still go strong.

2015 has been a pleasing year for me because I've now managed to revisit both my old alma maters, Glasgow and Lund, after gaps of 5 and 11 years respectively. Neither will be left so long again.

Full race results can be found here- http://haresandhounds.com/race/

Every Picture Tells A Story

Until I manage to write about my last two races, I'll share a couple of action shots. The first is the later stages of the Glasgow University Road Race courtesy of the host club. The other, thanks to Kilmarnock Harrier Scott Martin, shows me being tracked by Grant Baillie of East Kilbride AC in the West District Cross Country and does a very good job of making me look better than I felt. (Much) more to come on that.

Scottish National 4km Cross Country, 7th November 2015

Since week beginning Sunday 20th September, when I resumed full training after my Scandinavia jaunt, I have tweaked things a bit. 60 miles a week in preparation for the Copenhagen Half Marathon certainly got me fit but I had little pace in my legs and couldn't up the tempo. Anyone who's read my 4 part account of the trip will know I expended a bit of physical and emotional energy the day before but, in truth, the difference would have been minimal. My routine had felt stale for some time so I've adopted a less mileage and higher quality approach which has worked for me in the past. I've been taking it one race at a time. Results in the George Cummings, West Cross Country and National Cross Country relays suggest I'm hopefully heading in the right direction. The Scally was a good workout considering it turned out to be effectively a solo time trial. My pace worked out at roughly 31:45 10km tempo on an awkward course with an undulating second half.

I was sure to have more company at a wet, muddy Bellahouston Park for the National 4km Cross Country. I felt very nervous so was glad to have the race taking place on a Saturday. As much as I like the sport, having your whole weekend consumed by a Sunday race is not always ideal, nor is having to return the work the day after, especially if it hasn't gone well. Over with on Saturday, have a pint that night and Sunday for a recovery run. My model for the sport in a nutshell.

Again, we had a large contingent in a field of almost 350 runners. Again, I had masking tape wrapped round my spikes. I hadn't yet bought the new pair I've promised myself. I marked my territory on the line and got a clear start. All too often folk think they can do strides on the course then expect you to move back to let them in. I didn't get caught up in the usual crazy start though found plenty runners ahead of me. I splashed through the huge puddle/pond created by incessant rainfall all week and got through the first kilometre without incident. The ground was basically a muck heap but runnable and I made steady progress. I overtook a small group and gave chase to more as the first lap concluded. While definitely feeling it, I also felt capable of keeping it going in the second and continued to make good inroads.

The standard in the male senior ranks has certainly risen as there were a few new faces among those around me. Two familiar ones though were Lachlan Oates and clubmate Craig Jardine, both of whom I overtook after a sustained effort. I battled on through the rain, encouragingly not being passed by anyone, and soon saw the finish. I sensed being closed down. Fed up getting outsprinted in races, I worked my arms, lifted my knees and made a lunge for the line, dipping my chest. Craig's shadow appeared in the corner of my left eye as did one of his feet. We finished in a dead heat with the same time, 12:46. Photo finish put him one place ahead of me in 19th. I maintained (light heartedly) that my torso between my chin and waist had crossed the line before him so I should have the nod. Alas, the timing chip on our shoes proved the deciding factor. His foot was ahead of mine. I was 4th counter for the club behind Kyle McLellan (9th, 12:23), Ryan Thomson (13th, 12:33) and Craig. With 4 to count for the team, I'm only glad it didn't cost me a medal. I can't remember being part of a closer finish.

Our efforts sealed team silver behind the ever dominant Central and ahead of our old buddies Shettleston.

Above: team silver, left to right- Ryan Thomson, Craig Jardine, Stuart Gibson, Kyle McLellan.

I hit the showers in the sports centre to wash the mud off my legs (far from the only one doing such a thing) and, for a warm down, jogged 3.5 miles to Hampden where my Dad drove on to from the park to pick me up. A quicker time on a muddier course than 2013 and an 8 place improvement. Another race I'm content with.

Allan Scally Road Relay, 31st October 2015 plus a Postscript

By the Thursday night before this race, we were one short of the required team of 4. As previously eluded to, I am feeling the need to keep my running fresh so volunteered myself to make up the numbers.

The Shettleston Harriers organised Allan Scally Relay has a long history going back over 60 years. Two good articles to this effect can be found on Shettleston's website and also here. I ran the race several times over the old traditional course round Baillieston, including an interminably long stretch along Edinburgh Road, for both Calderglen Harriers and Glasgow University Hares and Hounds. My last appearance was in 2008 and, with the police forcing a change of course the following year, this would be my first time running the race in its new guise. The start and finish is now located in a park off Mount Vernon Road instead of across from Bannerman High School as before. A generally flat and slightly downhill first half and hillier second half took you through virtually every residential street in Mount Vernon. At least it felt like that by the end.

For the record, Robert Gilroy brought us in 3rd behind the host club and Edinburgh University, clocking 24:27 for the 4.8 miles. I took over in pursuit of both teams though could not see Shettleston's runner, Brian McGarrity. I pushed hard, eventually closing down and passing the Uni's runner. I had a glimpse of Brian and, after initially thinking it was a tall order, also overtook him but not without a huge effort. With no-one to chase thereafter, not even any runners to lap, I really toiled with the hills biting hard into my legs. I clocked 24:35 to finish with a 20 second lead.

Our 3rd and 4th leg runners, Peter Ogden and Simon Gold, gave it their very best shots to keep us in the top half, a tough task to undertake when aware there are likely to be faster runners chasing you down. Both put in very gallant efforts to maintain a top 10 position, 8th being our final result. The race constituted a good competitive workout for me. For a warm down, my Dad dropped me at Glasgow Green and I jogged a couple of miles from there to my Gran's in the Gorbals to pick up my Mum.

I refer to a postscript in the title of this post. I may elaborate further at a later date but for now I simply record my dismay at how a once proud race has fallen on such hard times. The statistics make for sobering reading. On my debut appearance in 2001, 41 complete male teams and 11 complete female teams finished the race. While the female numbers have actually remained steady (13 complete teams this year), the male numbers have fallen in dramatic fashion with 19 complete teams contesting the race in 2015. The Scally doubles as a university relay championship and 8 of those 19 teams came from universities. 4 of the female teams were universities. Take these away, you are left with 11 male and 9 female non-university club teams. I sensed a bit of malaise as soon as I arrived after finding a parking space at the school with great ease and with the start/finish area simply not feeling busy. The buzz of racing was replaced with a feeling of going through the motions and I found it extremely difficult to motivate myself as I warmed up and waited to take over from Robert. I set off however to put in an honest effort which I probably paid for in the later stages. Hundreds of people are turning out every week at what are essentially glorified training runs (Parkruns) yet races like the Scally are barely remaining viable. There has to be a reason why the customers are no longer turning up. Finding that reason is the easy part. Finding the solution less so. 

Scottish National Cross Country Relay Championships, 24th October 2015

I had one simple target as I approached Cumbernauld for this relay, to improve on last year's time of 13:43 on 3rd leg and overall 30th quickest time. My personal circumstances have changed for the better since then. I was going through a bit of turmoil having resigned from my job but needing to endure another 6 weeks before starting with my new employer. I completely went through the motions for the full 4km.

12 months on, changed days and I was (slightly) more up for it. I do not like racing at Cumbernauld at all, therefore, was very pleased to be assigned 1st leg, meaning I could get it over with and encourage/watch everyone else struggle. 

With the course initially veering right uphill, I positioned myself to the right of the start line which also ensured I avoided a big puddle on the left. I was worried about being clipped and my shoe coming off (it's happened to me a few times) so my Dad had wrapped masking tape round my footwear. Whether it was necessary or not, I don't know. My shoes stayed on anyway.

My leg unfolded as a battle to stay in contention. I fought the best I could round an undulating muddy course, managing to stay in the top 10. I didn't feel I had moved very quickly though the clock told me otherwise. I crossed the finish line 9th in 12:51. Ryan Thomson, Robert Gilroy and Kyle McLellan gradually hauled us upwards and we finished in a very good 4th place behind strong Central, Shettleston and Inverclyde teams. I was 19th fastest overall and much quicker than 2014. Pre-race objective firmly achieved. 4th place was also a big team improvement.

Again, we had a very healthy club turnout across all age groups. Results can be found here.

Above: ploughing on, my hair worrying starting to get some grey patches. Photo courtesy of Sharyn Ramage.

West District Cross Country Relay Championships, 11th October 2015

Incredibly, this would be my first outing at the West Relay since being part of our gold medal winning team at Kilmarnock in 2012. The following year, I was making one of the biggest mistakes of my running life in Dublin and last year it unfortunately clashed with a weekend away in Durham. The race returned to Hamilton Park Racecourse again after being staged there in 2013. It would be the first time there for me.

I was now 3 weeks into the tweaked training regime. Weather conditions were beyond perfect, no mud, little of what you could call hills, a venue close to home. Things seemed to be in my favour. The only potential fly in the ointment would be any after effects of attending a friend's house warming party the night before though I had kept my alcohol intake to a minimum.

Being allocated 3rd leg, I watched Ryan Thomson put us in an early lead then a returning from injury Ben Hukins pegged back a little to 3rd after facing a thankless task against one of Shettleston's Eritrean duo, Tewoldeberhan Mengisteab and Inverclyde's UK international, Jonny Glen. I had plenty to chase though and even more to hang on to. Within a few hundred metres, I managed to close down and overtake Inverclyde's 3rd man, Mark Pollard, to move into the silver medal position.

Above: giving chase to Shettleston Harriers. Photo courtesy of Scottish Athletics.

Various folk were saying it wasn't "real" cross country due to the absence of mud. However, I've run on courses which didn't suit me many a time and suffered for it so I was in no mood to sympathise with anyone and focused on putting the boot in. There were enough undulations and twists and turns to make the course a challenging one. I appeared to be homing in gradually on Kevin Brydon, on this leg for Shettleston, but as I ran past the grandstand to the finish it seemed that I would probably come up short. From somewhere though I found a little extra and, going round the last bend into the home straight, sprinted past him, ensuring our last runner, Robert Gilroy, took off in the lead. I felt very tired but also very satisfied with a more than welcome strong run.

Robert had suffered with a cold since the previous week's Great Scottish Run Half Marathon but, regardless, showed up and saw it through for the team. He had to concede to Shettleston's new Polish recruit, Kamil Sierecai, and Inverclyde's Craig Ruddy but kept going to secure us bronze medals. I was delighted with this and even more so later to see I recorded the fastest time on 3rd leg and 6th fastest overall. The tweaked training is reaping rewards.

We had a huge turnout of 29 senior men, giving us 7 and a bit teams. Full results can be found on Kilmarnock Harriers' website.

George Cummings Road Relay, 26th September 2015

Following the Copenhagen Half Marathon, I came to the conclusion that heavier training mileages and longer races are not really working for me. While having the stamina in Copenhagen, I had no real turn of pace. In other words, more miles seem to hinder rather than improve me. I also felt that my training since returning from my summer holiday had felt routine and stale and, quite frankly, my enthusiasm simply wasn't there at times. A chat with my Dad saw us agree some tweaks to restore my mojo.



The George Cummings Road Relay came at the end of my first full week of the tweaked regime. I felt in need of a burn up. Unfortunately only one of my club mates, Ross Stephen, was of similar mind and we turned out to be the only two Cambuslang Harriers athletes present, supported by Ross' parents, my Dad and Mike Johnston. We were joined by a Maryhill Harrier to form a three quarter team. Disappointing considering how well we've supported this race in the past but c'est la vie.



Ross took 1st leg, running 14:14 for the 2.7 mile loop, bringing us in 7th. I took over, running with a bit of aggression to try and pull in some of those ahead. Ultimately I did though lost out to Inverclyde's Michael Houston, one of those I made up ground on, in a late sprint. I brought us in 5th which, if we had a full quartet and maintained position, would have won us a prize. My time was 13:11, 6 seconds down on my time on 3rd leg in 2014 and 13 seconds down on my 1st leg effort in 2013. This was fine for my state of fitness on the day though I feel the need to return next year to reverse my trend of gradually slowing times on the course.

Southern Scandinavia Jaunt Part 4- Happy in Helsingor

During my stay, I had built up a small rapport with the male hotel receptionist. On returning the bicycle on Sunday night, it seemed I was one of the few guests actually hiring them as he asked me if I wanted one again the following day. Alas, I had to inform him I would be going home and wouldn't have time.

 

That said, my flight was in late afternoon, giving me some time to kill during the day. I had seen as much of Copenhagen as I wanted to and felt I had put the Lund return to bed on Saturday so decided to round off with a visit to somewhere I hadn't been before. Perusing my Denmark guide book, I settled for Helsingor. It was a short train journey away and I could take the train from there straight to the airport. A neat way to conclude things. Decision made, off I went. Around 40 minutes later, I disembarked at the station below.

 

With no bicycle this time, I couldn't venture too far but I also had my luggage so cycling would have proven a chore anyway. Helsingor is located on the north east coast of Zealand, the same island part of Denmark as Copenhagen. There was certainly a very stiff sea breeze. No rain however. As already eluded to, the Oresund Bridge provides a route by car or train from Denmark to Sweden. An alternative mode of transport is found here where regular ferries can transport you from Helsingor to the Swedish town of Helsingborg. On a clear day like this was, there are great views across to the Swedish mainland. I visited Helsingborg back during my halcyon days of early 2004 when my brother and I took in a Helsingborgs v Kalmar football match over the Easter weekend (the home team lost 2-1 and missed a penalty). On another day I may have partaken in the ferry crossing but, alas, time didn't allow. Instead, I made tracks towards one of Helsingor's most famous attractions, Kronborg Castle (pictured below).

 



 

The castle is best known as being the setting for Shakespeare's play, Hamlet. Built in the late 1500s for the then King and Queen of Denmark, it's certainly a very imposing building inside and out. Helpfully, I was provided a place to store my case which allowed me to tour the grounds, courtyard and hallways unhindered. It's quite something. I recommend a visit.

 

After my dose of culture, there remained just enough time for a leisurely wander round some of Helsingor's quaint streets. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the tranquillity was welcome. It was a working day so the quiet could be expected.

 

With that, the moment finally came to say farvel (goodbye in Danish) and hej da (the Swedish equivalent) to Copenhagen, Helsingor, Lund, Bjarred, Fjelie, Fladie and any other settlements I had passed through at some time or another over my 4 day stay. The train journey to Copenhagen Airport for the flight back to Edinburgh brought to an end an excellent and emotional trip I've wanted to do for so long. It had been 11 years in the making.

I don't blame anyone reading this for thinking "what's all the fuss about?" but you really have to be me to understand how important it was to make this journey. In 2004, I enjoyed the best 6 months of my life in Lund. As the years passed, the desire to return grew. This year, enough was enough and I had to do it. The desperation to go has been cured now but I definitely won't leave it for another 11 years before the next time. This little part of Scandinavia occupies a big place in my heart. My old lecturer Henrik Norinder told me student life is eternal in Lund. He's absoloutely right. In the words of Taylor Swift's most recent hit, I'd ask this area of the world to say you'll remember me. Why? Well because I will, without a shadow of a doubt, remember you.

If you've read all 4 parts, thank you and I hope it was worth reading.

Southern Scandinavia Jaunt Part 3- A Hard Race by Half

Having departed Lund with a lump in my throat, arriving back in Copenhagen at 9.30pm after a long, emotional afternoon was probably not the most ideal preparation for a half marathon. However, I felt more at peace with myself because I had finally gone through with something I had wanted to do for quite some time. That was all that really mattered to me about this trip.

 

I had no trouble at all sleeping that night and woke up in good time to have breakfast at the hotel and be ready for the 11.15am race start time. I knew there were bus and train options to reach the start but, just to make sure, I took a taxi from Central Station. Showing the friendly nature of the city, the driver could not take me all the way there due to road closures but got me as close as he could and gave me directions the rest of the way on foot. Sure enough, I reached Faelledparken over an hour early and, after making some enquiries, was directed to the elite tent. I got my number etc and could now safely relax and focus on the task ahead.

In all honesty, I did wonder how the previous day's escapades would tell on me but did all I could to be positive. In contrast to Saturday, conditions were wet and breezy though the rain eased off by the time we were on our marks. It was an extremely high quality field with a large African contingent. In terms of describing the course by landmarks etc, I'm not very good at such things but can provide the course map here. In the early stages, I wasn't feeling brilliant. I found myself loosely in a group with a French lady and a number of male Scandinavian club runners. For some reason, I got it in my head that I was not running quickly enough. By 5 miles, I had started to feel more myself and in a rhythm so made a move away from the group. The positive of a flat, open course like Copenhagen is, on a still day, you can really get your pace up. The negative on this occasion was it wasn't a still day. While not blowing a gale, the wind resistance was enough in places to both hinder and dishearten. Buoyed by the huge crowds it must be said, plus having my name shouted by several people (name on my number), I battled on as best I could. By around 9 miles or so, some of the group, including the French lady, caught and passed me. In hindsight, I ought to have stayed with them earlier on. All was not lost though as I was catching others and, in the last 3 miles, caught a couple of guys who themselves had dropped off the group.

Eventually I arrived back at the finish at Faelledparken and held on down the home straight without anyone catching me to finish 54th overall in 1:11:08. Not quite the time I was looking for but if I'd been more sensible at 5 miles and run in a pack, I may have gained another minute or so. You live and learn. I had however maybe used up too much energy the day before. I had plenty stamina but just not enough sharpness or oomph to gain that little extra. I did enjoy the atmosphere and had a minor triumph of being first Brit. 7 ladies, comprising 5 Kenyans, an Ethiopian and the aforementioned French Madame, finished ahead of me. The overall Kenyan race winner ran a world leading time of 59:14. The first 4 finishers clocked under an hour and 5th place was one second over it. Crazy stuff.

Back in the tent, as I regrouped, I met and chatted to the next Brit in after me, none other than a guy from Inverclyde, John Sharp. He had an equally energy sapping build up, attending a concert the night before! To coin a cliché, it's a small world. I soon discovered a breakdown of my 5km splits as well as my time and position- 16:28, 16:34, 17:15, 17:07. The 3rd segment would be where the group closed me down. Free massages were on offer so I took one to ease my legs then followed the crowds on foot to Osterport train station to get back into the city centre.

At the hotel, I showered and had some rolls (the remainder of the stuff I bought at Lidl on the Friday) I'd made up for myself and a hot drink. At around 4pm, my Dad sent me a text encouraging me to get a bicycle and do everything else I wanted to if I had the legs for it. Thanks to the massage, I did and duly hired one of the hotel bicycles again.

I embarked on a quick fire tour of the Copenhagen landmarks I wanted to see, stopping at the City Hall and Frederiksberg Palace, briefly sneaking into the latter before it closed. My determination to see the Little Mermaid then took over and I sought to find it with the aid of my Copenhagen city map. Had I brushed up on my Danish more thoroughly, I would have known the sign saying "Den lille Havrue" was directing me to my destination and not have cycled by. I retraced my steps, followed the sign and found another statue which turned out not to be the desired one then eventually accomplished my mission.

Above: false alarm. Wrong statue.

Above: I got there eventually. Den lille Havrue watching over the river.

On my route back, I stumbled across Nyhavn, a quaint stretch of bars and restaurants along the canal. It was starting to fill up with folk out for dinner and drinks. I took a stroll along the cobbled street, discovering a couple of places selling pints of lager to take away (in plastic containers of course for safety). I felt I'd earned a drink so parted with 39 of my Danish krone in exchange for a pint of Carlsberg. I decided against eating here because I didn't know how to use the light on the bicycle and wanted to be back in the vicinity of the hotel before dark. I therefore leisurely drank my pint then headed on my way.

Just round the corner from the hotel, I had discovered a place called Café Apropos which served meals at night. The earlier wind and rain had given way to a pleasant, mild evening so I returned the bicycle to the hotel, took a table outside the café and enjoyed a beautiful 2 course dinner with another pint of Carlsberg while perusing some work related business I had taken with me to look over (as a solicitor, you rarely entirely switch off). The bill came to 280 krone (about £23!!). I was feeling content with life and had received good service from the friendly waiting staff so handed over 320 krone, declaring the extra 40 to be a tip. This constituted enough activity for one day and I retired thereafter for an early night.

The concluding part of this wee adventure will appear over the weekend.

Southern Scandinavia Jaunt Part 2- The Lund Homecoming

The title of this post no doubt gives away the answer to the cliffhanger with which I signed off part 1. The lure of Lund was simply too much so I made a mental note to arrive at the race early the next day and boarded a train, paying a small supplement to take my bicycle on board, for the 50 minute journey. This includes a 10 mile stretch across the Oresund Bridge which connects Sweden and Denmark. The last stop before Lund is Malmo. It was quite a feeling at that point to know I was only 10-15 minutes away from a place which holds so many good memories for me. Before too much longer, I saw Lund Cathedral and was disembarking. What follows is lengthy so grab a cup of tea, a biscuit....and some tissues.
 

Above: after 11 years, I had returned.

 

I now stood on the station platform for the first time since my 6 month student exchange ended in June 2004. I'd never heard of Lund when I arrived there in early January 2004 but soon learned that it is a town of some history, founded in 990, which has been under both Danish and Swedish rule. It's firmly in Sweden nowadays. The University, Lunds Universitet in Swedish, was established in 1666. Glasgow University's exchange programme allowed me and 2 others to come here during the 2003/04 academic year.

 

My first task was to haul the bicycle up two flights of stairs onto the main street. I took a few minutes to drink in my surroundings. Naturally some things had changed, for example, Subway has now opened there, but fundamentally it was the same place. I worked out the things I wanted to see. One was where I used to stay. I therefore decided that I would be the 20 year old me for the rest of the day, put my watch back 11 years, jumped on the saddle and headed for the student residences known as Vildanden.

 

After a slight wrong turning (well, it had been a while), I found the correct cycle path and reached Allingavagen, the street where Vildanden (literal translation- Wild Duck), is located. It had not changed a bit though the blocks were renumbered in 2010 so I struggled to locate the exact one where I stayed. Obviously there are students living there so I couldn't go in but I took about half an hour to take it all in again. Eventually, I surmised I may be starting to look suspicious so cycled back the short distance to the town centre.

 

Above: back at Vildanden, like 2004, with a bicycle and not dressed much differently to back then.

 

Where to next then? A meander through Lund's cobbled streets took me to the town's public library, Stadsbiblioteket (pictured below). I had been a member and still had my library ticket so went in for a wander round. That no doubt sounds silly but silliness and nostalgia were the themes of the day.

 

 

Next stop was Juridicum, the university's Law School. This is the place I frequented for studies and classes. While he was not available to meet me on the day, to my huge surprise and even greater delight, I re-established contact with the professor who took both of the courses I studied, Henrik Norinder. He even remembered who I was and we are now back in permanent contact, something which means a lot to me. He told me, by sheer co-incidence, someone else from 2004 had re-visited Juridicum the day before my arrival. Alas, I didn't know the person concerned but clearly someone with the same 11 year itch as me.  I had made myself a packed lunch with the rolls and cold meat I bought at the Lidl in Copenhagen the previous night so took a seat outside Juridicum to replenish my energy levels.



Above: Lund University's Law School.

Above: lunch and a quick photo at the Law School.

 

From there, I ventured to Lund Cathedral, an imposing building inside and out dating from the 12th century. Inside, it's 14th century astronomical clock bursts into life every day at 12 noon (1pm on Sundays) and 3pm when knights on horseback clash, trumpeters play, the organ plays "in dulci jubilo" and small doors open admitting mechanical replicas of the Three Wise Men who then proceed past Mary and Jesus. It has to be seen. I was there at 3pm to see it with a large gathering of tourists.



Above: Lund Cathedral.

 

One of Lund's most picturesque and peaceful places is the town's park, Stadsparken, a lush spot of greenery and tranquility. I went there, via a cycle to the main square in Lund, Martenstorget, after leaving the cathedral. I remember doing training runs in Stadsparken. The route of Lund's annual 10km road race, Lundaloppet, also takes in the park. I ran it in 2004, finishing in a time of 37:21. In addition, I had a memorable day here on 30th April 2004 celebrating Valborg, an annual celebration marking the beginning of spring. This was the one and only time I have ever had a can of lager with my breakfast. A truly memorable day I'll never forget. Some form of activity was going on here and I watched for a little while inquisitively. Maybe university freshers week festivities?

 

Above: whatever was going on in Stadsparken, it looked interesting.

 



 

Above: another view of Stadsparken.

 

By now, the time was just after 4pm and I felt I'd seen almost everything I wanted to. I'd had an inkling to go along to Vastgota Nation, the student club I visited almost weekly, but wasn't too sure of my bearings so decided to pass. I often liked to hop on my bicycle and cycle out to some of the small towns and villages surrounding Lund, for no other reason than to see them and be able to say I had been. Dalby, Sodra Sandby, Staffanstorp and Lomma were among the places I made it to. I also had fond memories of a town called Bjarred. It serves as a commuter town for folk working in Lund and Malmo but has a beach and a huge pier. I considered going to Dalby but apart from a church it doesn't have much else. Bjarred was about 6 miles away and I wondered if I would end up tired for the race the next day. I asked myself however "when will you next be here?" I couldn't find an answer so bit the bullet, found the correct cycle path and set off.

 

The route takes in two villages. The first is Fjelie, population of approximately 150. Shortly thereafter, you come to Fladie, a more bustling settlement with a population of around 250. Much of the journey has a backdrop of miles of rolling countryside which, on a beautiful day like this, looked amazing.



Above: passing through Fjelie, population- 150 approx., on the road to Bjarred.

 

I reached my destination and briefly lost my bearings, partaking in the sights of Bjarred's bus station and shopping centre, before following my nose and arriving at the beach. I was greeted by beautiful golden sand, the gentle ripple of the sea and a stunning view in all directions in the late afternoon sunshine. The pier extends 500m out to the sea with an open air swimming pool and sauna at its end. One or two locals were milling about the beach minding their own business, including a man, roughly in his 70s, eating an ice cream cone.  

 

 

Above: the pier in Bjarred with the pool and sauna in the distance.

Above: a breather after the cycle to Bjarred.

 

I parked the bicycle and walked out on the pier to the sea. I had been rewarded for my notion to cycle out here with picture postcard surroundings which could quite honestly have been anywhere in the world. It was dream like. At this point, I felt the happiest I had since touching down in Copenhagen the night before. This justified my decision to re-visit this part of the world. Running, work, family life, everything left my mind. I hadn't been so at peace with myself and content since those 6 months in 2004 as I was at this point.

Above: a failed "selfie" attempt with my hair cut off.

Above: on Bjarred pier, so happy, so content, so at peace with myself and the world.

 

At some point in Lund, I had gone to a supermarket for provisions, including a pint of milk so I didn't go to put cream in my tea for a second consecutive day. It was about 5.45pm and, being in no rush, I decided to have some private time to reflect on the beach. I took a seat on a rock and had some jaffa cakes and a couple of cans of Mountain Dew and, well, gazed dreamily out to sea. I also had some photographs from 2004 and flicked through them, remembering some good times.

Above: alone with my thoughts in Bjarred.

 

I planned to have my dinner in Lund so, at about 6pm, had a leisurely cycle back and went to Glorias, a restaurant-bar in the style of the Wetherspoon's or Brewers Fayre type places you have in the UK. In 2004, I couldn't afford to eat there. Now, things have improved and I could barely afford to. I exaggerate a little but let's simply say if you plan to eat out daily in Scandinavia, save your pennies. I ordered a steak, side order of onion rings and pint of lager (Carlsberg) while taking in the Manchester United-Liverpool game. The food and drink set me back at least £30 plus a tip! Beautiful though, worth every krone. I also had a chat with the guy serving me, telling the story of my return after 11 years, and he wished me a welcome back. I was going to comment on the price of the food but considered that the joke may not translate well, thought better of it and settled for saying "tack sa mycket" (thanks very much).

Above: Glorias, cheerful but definitely not cheap.

 

At full time in the football, it was time to get the train back to Copenhagen. By now it was dark so, unsure how to switch the bicycle light on, walked the short distance from Glorias. There were 10 minutes until my train was due. It dawned on me that I would be leaving Lund for a second time. I couldn't rush my departure. I therefore walked along the main street with the bicycle to a square leading to other areas of the town. I had stood here on my arrival about 8 hours earlier. I'm not too proud to admit I had a lump in my throat and was a little tearful. There was no-one nearby but I really didn't care who saw or heard me. I took a deep breath and said "halsningar Lund, hej da." This translates roughly as "all the best Lund, goodbye." I then blew a kiss and, without a second look, turned 90 degrees to my left towards the train station. 

 

 

 

This has been emotional to write. Part 3 comes next week.

 

 



Southern Scandinavia Jaunt Part 1- The Arrival

Such is how memorable my 4 day trip turned out to be, I feel one report cannot do it justice so I have divided it into 4 parts. Part 1 follows below.

After what seemed to be a considerably long wait and anticipation building with every passing day, it was finally time for me to board a flight from Edinburgh Airport for my return visit to Scandinavia after 11 years. That's not to say that I didn't have some trepidation when departure day came because it would be my first ever trip abroad completely on my own. The desire to return though was simply too great so I bit the bullet and booked it.

So, on Friday 11th September, a 90 minute flight to Copenhagen Airport and a short train journey from there deposited me in Copenhagen City Centre at around 7pm. Then, with the aid of a city map, I found what would be my accommodation for the next 3 nights, the Hotel Ansgar, where I demonstrated the full range of my Danish vocabulary when checking in, hello (hej) and thank you (tack). I decided to jog a couple of miles to shake the journey out my system and was reminded very quickly about the popularity of bicycles as a mode of transport in this part of the world, nearly being run over by them at least twice. Bicycles however are accommodated, being allocated their own space on the road and even, in some parts, their own traffic lights. UK cities could learn a lot from their Scandinavian counterparts. I guess it served me right for straying into the bicycle lanes.

I was in several minds what to do about dinner and eventually settled for a pizza from the convenience store, 7-11, a very popular presence in Danish and Swedish towns, cities and train stations. Think McDonalds or Burger King only healthier. I also popped into a Lidl supermarket for some rolls and cold meat which I thought would be ideal for lunches or snacks on the various excursions I planned to embark on. In addition, I bought what I thought was a pint of milk for a cup of tea in my hotel room. I now know flødeskum is in fact cream! Milk definitely goes better with tea.

After a good night's sleep, a short pre-breakfast jog (well out of harm's way this time) and breakfast in the hotel (strictly milk only in my tea), I decided if you can't beat them, join them and hired a bicycle from the hotel. I had details of where to collect my number for the half marathon the next day but little idea how to get there. A visit to the Tourist Information Office informed me that I would need to take the number 14 bus. This left me with a dilemma. It was now just after 11am. Should I take the bus to the race expo and risk not getting back in time for the visit to Lund I, truth be told, was really here for? Alternatively should I get to Lund and simply make sure I surfaced early enough the next day to be at the race venue with plenty time to spare?

The answer will be revealed in part 2 later this week.
 

Cambuslang Harriers Training Weekend, 4th-6th September 2015

 

Balmaha on the banks of Loch Lomond proved to be the ideal setting for the 9 of us attending the Cambuslang Harriers training weekend. Balmaha Bunkhouse provided ample accommodation with the Oak Tree Inn and adjacent village shop, both located barely a 2 minute walk across the road, being the ideal places to stock up on provisions. Friday allowed for an easy run for those who had arrived early but, for all, dinner and a drink at the Inn. 8 of us were there with one more, Stornoway based member William Macrury, joining us on Saturday night after running in the Scottish Trail Championships in Falkland.

 

Saturday morning brought a session of between 5 and 8 efforts of 3 minutes duration on trails behind the Bunkhouse. A regroup in the Bunkhouse saw Des introduce us to his cookery talents, serving up rolls, sausages, tea and coffee to replenish a hungry group. The location provided no end to the choice of afternoon activities. After discussion, it was decided that canoeing would be a tad risky for a running club so we settled for a hill walk up Conic Hill. Having Iain MacCorquodale, someone with vast experience of the hills, in our company lessened the risk, in theory at least. Practice proved to be something rather different. Regardless, the group made it to the summit in (reasonably) fine fettle, being rewarded with some spectacular views in all directions.



 

Above: Charlie tells a captive audience how many times he was up for the toilet during the night.

 

Above: auditionees for Last of the Summer wine, relaxation at the summit of Conic Hill.

 

Whatever goes up has to come back down of course and some unorthodox methods of descent were employed. Let's simply say some accomplished the feat better than others.

 

We then split into a couple of groups. The first, comprising 7, which settled for fluid replenishment al fresco at the Inn. The second, comprising one person (me), went for another run, an easy 5 miles.

 

Above: never underestimate the importance of hydration.

 

In the early evening, we regrouped at the Bunkhouse where Iain Reid presented an informative talk about core stability. He was followed by Charlie Thompson who gave an insight into the training which has brought him such consistent success over a 30+ year career. I was supposed to come in after Charlie but I couldn't really top his experiences and I don't think anyone really minded him carrying on beyond his allotted time. William's arrival from Fife with a team gold medal tucked away was the signal for dinner and more refreshments at the Inn before retiring again to the Bunkhouse for more drink and chat.

 

Sunday saw a sharp start with the requirement to check out the Bunkhouse by 10am. Time was found to pose with the statue of the late Scottish climber, writer and broadcaster Tom Weir.





 

Above: the whole group on Sunday morning with the Tom Weir statue, left to right- Iain MacCorquodale, William Macrury, Ryan Thompson, Charlie Thompson, Iain Reid, Des Dickson, Ross Stephen, Gordon Robertson, me.

 

Charlie and Iain embarked on a hill walk while the rest of us set off on an out and back run (distances ranging from 10-14 miles) on the West Highland Way towards Rowardennan. Very heavy on the heart, lungs and legs but spectacular scenery if you have the energy to look at it.

 

Thereafter, a relaxed lunch brought a superb weekend to a close with great weather, company and location. I for one hope this becomes an annual tradition. This year's 9 participants are already signed up for 2016.

 

 

Scottish Athletics League Match 4, 30th August 2015

A 3rd place finish in the 3rd match of this year's Mens League left Whitemoss lying joint 3rd in Division 2 on 20 points, level with Inverclyde who edged us only on match points (683 to 637). Lasswade were 2nd on 21 points with Arbroath already promoted and crowned champions with a match to spare with 26 points. We had it all to play for in the last match at Edinburgh's Meadowbank Stadium on 30th August. We needed to do 4 things on the day:-

 

1. Finish 2nd.

2. Finish ahead of Inverclyde.

3. Finish ahead of Lasswade.

4. Better Lasswade's points total by at least 8.

 

I pulled out all the stops, spreading the net far and wide for a winning team. I managed to entice lapsed team members Michael Brennan and Paul White to return and secured the services of Whitemoss under 17 multi eventer Scott Connal and his older brother Fraser. They joined the more regular participants, myself, Ian Smith, Craig Whyteside, Iain McEwan, Craig McEwan and Mark Holliman. One or two others had withdrawn the day before due to wear and tear injuries at the end of a long summer but it was still a strong squad. I had made an audacious approach to honorary Whitemoss member and former UK international hurdler Alan Scott which alas came to nothing. One can only try.

 

Personally, I took some risks in unfamiliar events to secure extra points. The 400m hurdles had huge potential to go horribly wrong but I shocked myself with a time of 69.94 seconds, well within the 75 seconds points standard. I followed up with 3000m steeplechase (10:01.39), 400m (59.12 seconds, B string to Scott Connal) and 10,000m (32:19.87). I took the following night off!

 

An injury to Iain McEwan during high jump proved a blow but we juggled a few things and secured minimal points loss. He had at least secured a points winning jump before his misfortune. Alas, despite a gallant effort, we fell short in the end. Lasswade made home advantage count, producing just that little bit more than us. The match result was as follows:-

 

Top 4
Lasswade, 304
Arbroath, 253
Whitemoss, 242
Inverclyde, 227

 

This left the final table looking like this:-

 

Arbroath, 34 (1,001 match points)
Lasswade, 30 (948)
Whitemoss, 27 (879)
Inverclyde, 26 (910)
Pitreavie, 20 (708)
Giffnock, 13 (529)
Corstorphine, 12 (515)
Clydesdale, 9 (323)
East Kilbride, 5 (213)

 

This still constitutes an improvement on 2014's 5th place and shows how thin the margins of error are. For example, at Inverness we were less than 10 points from finishing 3rd and at Kilmarnock 2 points from finishing 2nd. Had both those things happened, we'd have gone to Meadowbank in 2nd place as the team for Lasswade to catch. Them's the breaks I guess.

 

I owe huge thanks to a number of people.

 

Firstly, those who came to Meadowbank to support us- Iain McEwan Senior, Anne McEwan, Michael Brennan's wife (sorry her name escapes me), Barry Connal, Karen Connal, Lee Wilson and Catriona Lockie.

 

Secondly, all the athletes who competed this year- Michael Brennan, Paul White, Scott Connal, Fraser Connal, Ian Smith, Craig Whyteside, Iain McEwan, Craig McEwan, Mark Holliman, Alistair Stewart, Zach Bryson and Kyle Jackson. If someone competed in one event at one match, as far as I'm concerned, they've contributed.

 

Finally, to our officials- Mark Stringer, Willie Sutherland, Susan Gatens and Steven Whyteside. At every match, we must provide 3 officials. Without them, we are not permitted to compete.

 

It's been a memorable year, the jaunt to Inverness being a particular highlight of mine. Maybe we'll get there in 2016.

British Milers Club Grand Prix, Watford, 27th June 2015

Deep breath, time to catch up on my report backlog.

British Milers Club membership is something I've been very proud to achieve. I'd been assured that the BMC's meeting in Watford was one to experience so, just for the hell of it, I submitted an entry for the 5000m, expecting it to be deferred. To my astonishment, it was accepted. I knew about the high demand for places so securing one served as a great motivator to train. I churned out 6 good weeks of training, accompanied some of the time by long time Cambuslang Harrier Stevie Wylie, and flew down on the Saturday morning quietly confident. I'd booked an overnight stay after the race in the Hilton (a bargain price thanks to laterooms.com) which also let me rest up during the day. I was in the B 5000m, the last race of a packed programme, at around 9.30pm. My fears that this would mean no-one would still be around to watch proved unfounded. A few other Scottish athletes were racing 5000s too, Alistair Hay, Mark Pollard and, in the same race as me, Jonny Glen and Craig Ruddy.

I got a taxi from the hotel to the Woodside Stadium, timing my arrival to have just enough time to soak up the atmosphere but also not be hanging around for too long. The last 3 races were the women's 5000m and the men's A and B 5000s and, to enhance the atmosphere, spectators were permitted to occupy lanes 5-8 on the back and home straights. By now, light was also fading slightly and the noise levels were building. I took a tunnel vision approach, following my usual warm up routine, blocking out the excitement surrounding the men's A and women's races and, before long, took my place on the line.

My training diary for the race reads "Awesome experience. What an atmosphere. What a race. 3rd last in a PB! Says it all." I was in a very strong field, most of whom turned out to be simply too good for me. I set off at 14:35 pace but took several laps to leave the back marker spot. I maintained the pace to halfway then dug in for the second half. (Much) further ahead of me, there was clearly something special happening and I kept hearing the name Alex Yee in commentary. He ended up winning in 14:09.18, a European Under 20 qualifying time. An incredible run for a 17 year old. The crowds grew and the noise level increased. I really hurt in the later stages but with the atmosphere building with every lap, you couldn't help but keep going. I remained engaged in my own mini battles with runners around me. I knew I was tight for a personal best but, in the last kilometre in particular, I really pushed for it. Despite dropping a place in the final 200m, I did enough to finish in a new best of 14:44.54. Incredibly, this saw me place 16th out of 18 finishers. That was the least of my worries because I had clocked the sort of time I'd travelled for. Jonny and Craig were 14 and 10 seconds ahead of me respectively.

After a post race debrief with Jonny, Craig, Mark and also Stephen Mackay from Inverness who had raced a 1500m, the effort had churned my stomach and I had to find a quiet spot in some trees to get some relief through my mouth (I don't wish to be crude, work it out yourself). Afterwards, I warmed down with Jonny and Craig and, having kindly been given a phone number to call by the driver who dropped me off, got a taxi back to the hotel. The following day comprised an easy 5 miles before breakfast then the flight back to Glasgow.

I loved this meeting and, without doubt, want back into it a second time. I've probably not done the occasion sufficient justice so, for more complete details, the BMCs own write up is here.

Cambuslang Harriers Training Weekend- A Sneak Preview

The first weekend of September saw what will hopefully be the inaugural edition of a new annual tradition, the Cambuslang Harriers Training Weekend. 9 of us descended on Balmaha on the banks of Loch Lomond for 2 nights of running, hill walking/stumbling/crawling, eating, drinking and all round enjoyment. One more came along on Saturday. The great company made the weekend as did the fantastic weather. I'll add my report to the ever growing list of blog reports I have to catch up on. In the meantime, here is 7 of the group at the peak of Conic Hill. The missing 2 are Charlie Thompson who took the photo and William Macrury who joined us on Saturday night after winning a team gold medal at the Scottish Trail Running Championships in Falkland, Fife.

 

Much more to come!

 

 

 

Marymass 10km Road Race, 19th August 2015

Though I had entered this race in advance, I remained in two minds whether to keep training instead until learning that my brother had got my Dad a ticket for the Celtic-Malmo game at Celtic Park on the same night. I considered that I could take my Mum for a trip down the Ayrshire coast which would also allow me to race. Agreement was duly reached with all concerned. Since I hadn't been to this race since 2010 nor competed in Irvine since the 2012 West District Cross Country and had developed an uncanny knack of getting lost in the town up to and including my last visit, I felt a pre-race recce would be prudent. I therefore drove down after work 24 hours in advance on a beautiful evening for an easy 7 mile run. I got all the navigation gremlins out the way (one wrong turning and several laps in the car of the retail park), memorised my directions and had a relaxed plod (average 6:29/mile pace) in the late summer sunshine.

 

The following night, everything pre-race went to plan apart from the weather. While not cold or particularly windy, unfortunately, we encountered torrential rain. I warmed up under a railway bridge to keep dry then, after making sure my Mum was okay (she made a shopping trip to the nearby Asda during the race), I joined over 200 others on the start line outside Irvine Victoria Juniors' football ground. In Chris Upson and recent new recruits Simon Gold, David Stirling and John McCluskey, I had company from Cambuslang. Neil Renault, winner of Irvine's 5 mile race in July, had also travelled through from Edinburgh, protesting that it had been beautiful when he began his journey. The vagaries of the Scottish climate.

As we set off through the second exit of a roundabout then up a gradual incline past the train station, Neil immediately took the bull by the horns. I attempted to follow him but by 1km it was clear he was taking no prisoners and, by the time we joined the cycle path which formed much of the route, I found myself gradually becoming cut off. I resigned myself to a long, hard effort, all the while focussing on sustaining my own pace in the hope Neil's would drop off. I went through 5km in 16:20. Not great but better than Dundonald. By the turn between 5km and 6km, I got a glimpse of Neil. He was tucked in behind the lead bike and moving well.

Nevertheless, I stuck to my task. At one point, I lost sight of Neil, had no-one behind me and no other car on the road so went through a strange experience of running as hard as I could along an empty road in pouring rain completely by myself. The isolation ended as I approached the Magnum Centre at the Harbourside with 2km to go and got some encouragement from my Mum. Even though 2nd place was secure, I tried not to slacken off and maintained the effort to the finish line which I reached in 32:30. A good improvement on 2 weeks earlier. I had therefore run the next 5km slightly quicker, in 16:10.

Above: approaching the finish on the Harbourside. Photo courtesy of Kenny Phillips.

 

Neil totally destroyed my time, running 30:45. Clearly he's in serious training for something. Probably an autumn marathon? Del Young (Garscube) completed the top 3 with a similar solo effort to me of 33:57. In the ladies race, Dundonald winner Laura Wallace picked up another win with 39:27, narrowly ahead of Laura Devine (Garscube, 39:24) with Charlene Kelly (Dumbarton) 3rd in 40:34. In the Cambuslang stakes, Chris claimed first over 50 with 36:16, Simon earned a new personal best of 39:16 and David and John were happy with their shifts in less than ideal weather, 47:19 and 52:09 respectively.

 

It unfortunately wasn't a night to wait around and, being drenched and also mindful that wet conditions can aggravate my Mum's arthritis, got back to East Kilbride where we treated ourselves to a Chinese takeaway.

Looking at my training diary while writing this report, I noted that I went into the race off the back of 46 miles of running in the previous 4 days. I'm looking longer term to the Copenhagen Half Marathon on 13th September then the 2015/16 road and cross country season and hopefully the spadework I'm putting in now will bear fruit later.

Finally, as hinted at, this is one of two races organised by Irvine AC. The other is a 5 miler in mid July run over a similar course though with a different start and finish. I thoroughly recommend both.