LOST BUT NOT LAST AT LEAST
BOB & HILARY TOWELL COWM 5K RACE
That recent Podium experience left my tail between my legs. Finishing last wasn't particularly a disgrace, but more so the time I clocked. Certainly in those next few days after the race, going out running again ranked as by far the biggest chore... even more so than truly mundane stuff like hoovering, pegging out two loads of washing, mowing the grass, doing a bit of weeding... there was nothing there, no zip, no physical urge, no mental intent. I was running because I had to, because if I didn't then everything would slip and if nothing else I still have some good sessions in the bank and somewhere along the lines they must count for something if I can just plod through this Podium hangover. By the middle of the following week I had mentioned on a club thread that I was interested in another 5K the following Wednesday and by doing that it was a sort of commitment to myself that would at least give me a bit of short term focus to get back on it. Still feeling lethargic, I nevertheless got a bit more mileage in than recent weeks, but didn't stretch my legs out to any fast stuff until a kind of mini-session of eight one minute surges the night before the race. It did the trick of waking my legs up without battering them.
So to race night. One of Andy O'Sullivan's Andems Runners races, of which I haven't got over to for a good few years. But these are just the sort of low key evening races with a great ambience about them that I will always enjoy. The likes of myself are guaranteed some decent competition. A 5K around Cowm Reservoir near Whitworth, upon the far Rochdale reaches of Rossendale on an early Spring evening? Sounded good to me.
A 7pm start would leave just enough time to get there from work and allow for a bit of a warm up, or so that would be the case all being well. And all was going well until I got off the A56 at Rawtenstall. This wasn't actually a mistake even though I thought it was at the time, in fact the first mistake was forgetting my phone charger in the morning and having three per cent power left at this point so I could only stop and check Google maps when absolutely necessary. Mistake number two was then misreading that map, thinking that I should turn around and carry on down the A56 again and therefore bypass Rawtenstall centre - wrong! Within minutes I was trapped and merging on to the M66. Vulgarities were sounded out to myself at some decibels inside my little Citroen C1 box and more so when I saw the sign for the next exit being some seven miles away... and for Bury! I was lost.
A little less than forty minutes left until the race start, here I was now hurtling away from my destination quicker than I was finding it. It was foot down on this fairly quiet stretch of motorway and when the Bury junction came, it also offered a left turn to Heywood - and a light bulb went on in my frazzled head. I'm thinking, 'Heywood, that's near Rochdale, Rochdale is near Whitworth... let's do Heywood'. From Heywood, one of two crucial very last faint battery saving peeks of Google maps pulled me out of the mire, but it was less than twenty five minutes until kick off now and I'd half resigned myself to just eventually finding the place but having a jog out and watch the race instead. But once I picked up the checkpoint to the back of Rochdale Golf Course fairly handily, from there hope returned again and with one more memorised glimpse of the map on my phone before it's lights went out for good, I finally got there at just gone quarter-to. Not ideal, but sod it I might as well have a go now. I was really lucky to roll in to a space right outside the pub to register and once inside, with eyes like a rabbit's in the headlamps looking for an entry form and a biro, I received a reassuring tap on the shoulder by one of the Andems race officials and told to stay calm. ''Don't worry yourself, plenty of time. Seventeen minutes yet''. Seventeen? Bonus! Enough time to pin my number on, have a loo stop and get to the start at least, but already resigned to the fact that a proper warm up was out of the question.
Including myself, six Ribble Valley runners were present at the start which also included the two time English Fell Running Champion, winner of more or less every big race on the calendar and proper legend that is Shaun Livesey who pinned a proper number on for the first time in over a decade. It was an honour to be there for that alone. Recently accepting presidency of the club, the whole reformation of Ribble Valley Harriers, for whom Shaun was an original member, has rekindled his interest in the sport which I think is great.
The race started below the reservoir damn with a short climb up the road on to the track around the reservoir which underfoot is a mixed variant of pavement and firm track. Two laps and it's back down to where we started. I began to tighten up a bit in the last mile and lost a few places which was a little disappointing, but managed to keep it together and at least better that Podium time on a slower course and with a tough headwind up one side of the res.
A face I couldn't catch last Summer at the Rossendale Fell Series was that of Rochdale veteran Danny Bennett. He came past with about a kilometre to go which was all well and good but for the fact he was wearing a pair of Brooks Ghost. In my line of work at the moment, that added insult to injury. They are a great running shoe but not the most economical in a short race like this I might argue and this observation hurt me more than actually losing places!
So it's back here next week for the next one I reckon, to try and chip some time off. Getting there in time for a warm up might help. It was great to be back at one of Andy O'Sullivan's races, quite distinctive and dare I say a lovingly eccentric character who still shares his thoughts on that trademark loud speaker before, during and after the race. Nowt like it.
Wednesday 18th April
BOB & HILARY TOWELL COWM 5K RACE Whitworth, Nr. Rochdale
1st Man - Mac O'Malley (Trafford AC) 16:14
1st Lady - Charlotte Corrigan (Hyndburn AC) 20:51
My Stats - 18:15 18/107
Wednesday, 25 April 2018
Tuesday, 10 April 2018
PERSONAL WORST
PODIUM 5K
Quite often this blog, diary, rambling or whatever it may loosely be classified as, is a rod for my own back. When I have a crap race I might want to talk about it briefly and may even spout excuses, but I don't particularly enjoy making a written record of it. I just want to stew in my own self deprecating thoughts, try and work out what happened and why, then get out there and try again before thoughts of taking up Crown Green bowling return with serious intent. In life, I have, and continue to fall short of making good of things that I might actually have a talent for. So why on earth do I expect to buck that trend over something that I'm not so talented at like running? Psychological flaws would be the answer to that one.
I'm not a good enough runner to take things too seriously, but I'm serious enough to be disappointed and embarrassed after recording a shock personal worst 5K time at Podium. What an absolute joke of a performance! Training had been suggesting for a few weeks that a sub-17 minuter was on the cards. Worst case scenario, I can always dig out a sub-18, even off not much training backbone and at least warrant my place within the current 'A' race time band. But I couldn't even scratch that bare minimum requirement on this occasion, falling well short of doing enough to even justify my albeit insignificant participation.
Instead I suffered a second all time top five worst race in the space of less than four months. Hardly a statistic to fill my heart with joy. There was no lack of effort, I grimly held on for the last two kilometres despite the fact that it felt as if this possibly flattest 5K course in the country was actually on a hill. As far as the stiff back was concerned, it felt fine when running. In fact I felt great warming up - sometimes a bad sign! There's no excuses for this result, but there has to be some sort of tenuous explanation after probably the most solid bank of uninterrupted and intensive interval training I've ever done.
At the time of the wheels falling off on Saturday night and the immediate aftermath of what had just happened, all seemed inexplicable. But the subsequent post-mortem pointed towards the previous weekend's extreme deviation from training routine and the two short but very sharp up and downers that I couldn't resist upon the slopes of Helvellyn's Dodd's. Quad muscles mashed, subsequent lactic was seemingly flushed out by a decent flat speed session which restored confidence in still being able to run well at Podium. But remembering back to Saturday evening and locating where the stride shortened and the wheels buckled, it wasn't the usual suspect of hamstrings, adductor or gluets. It was the quads. Could this have been my undoing? The morning after, it was the quads that felt the most worked-out muscle set, which is extremely unusual after a flat 5K . It's normally the calf muscles or the hamstrings doing the screaming. That said and if true, it's still a poor do that I couldn't even hang on for anything near a sub-18. An all time personal worst of 18:19 recorded and last place all to myself by a distance. One or two other competitors bailed however, which I consider a bit of cop out at this sort of distance unless you're injured. It did cross my mind to join them, but with a DNF only last month I can't make it a habit. I stayed on and took my punishment.
I was hoping to have a bit of a ding-dong with my former Blackburn clubmate Paul Guinan as he continues to progress through his most recent comeback. But after all the pre-race bantering by myself, Guiny must have been wondering what a load of deluded drivel I had been banging on about. In retrospect, so do I! He pulled away from me about half way around and that was that.
The next race is going to tell me what's going on. Training has been going well all in all so I'm thinking it was a blip, fatigued quads, very bad day at the office or something like that. What I must stop doing is bigging myself up before a race which is something I've noticed has crept in to my game. I don't do it through arrogance - I have nothing to be arrogant about! - I think it's just sporting nerves and getting myself revved up like back in the footballing days, but it's got to stop. More often than not my words don't match my actions and I end up looking like an even bigger dick than already perceived! If that's possible?!
Lest not I completely smother the good name of Podium 5K in my own misgivings and shortcomings, for I really ought to comment on observations I made at the other side of the track on a night when the course record was beaten again. Talented St Helen's racer Matthew Crehan's trademark confidence was evident. He's not afraid to have a go and took this one out from the front like a man possessed. Every time I glimpsed across he was well ahead, officially by eleven seconds at one point I am informed. Crehan equalled the old record on the night but I was surprised and equally impressed to hear that wily GB runner Tom Lancashire produced the perfect finish to reel him back in and take the race - and the record - in the very closing stages. That's what Podium is actually about, not some ageing average half beat four minutes adrift who dreams of a long term Indian Summer of racing form from within the confinement of the icy caverns of stark reality.
So why do I really invest considerable time and effort in an activity that I'm pretty average at and unlikely to improve upon at forty bloody four? Well, I love it. Not all the time, but most of the time.
However if the grim reaper of athletical capability really does show me his hand this year, then switching codes to the bowling green is right back on the agenda.
Saturday 7th April 2018
PODIUM 5K Steven Burke Cycle & Sports Hub, Barrowford, East Lancs
1st Man - Tom Lancashire (Bolton Utd Harriers) 14:19
1st Lady - Becky Rigby (Preston Harriers) 16:30
My Stats - 18:19 51/51
PODIUM 5K
Quite often this blog, diary, rambling or whatever it may loosely be classified as, is a rod for my own back. When I have a crap race I might want to talk about it briefly and may even spout excuses, but I don't particularly enjoy making a written record of it. I just want to stew in my own self deprecating thoughts, try and work out what happened and why, then get out there and try again before thoughts of taking up Crown Green bowling return with serious intent. In life, I have, and continue to fall short of making good of things that I might actually have a talent for. So why on earth do I expect to buck that trend over something that I'm not so talented at like running? Psychological flaws would be the answer to that one.
I'm not a good enough runner to take things too seriously, but I'm serious enough to be disappointed and embarrassed after recording a shock personal worst 5K time at Podium. What an absolute joke of a performance! Training had been suggesting for a few weeks that a sub-17 minuter was on the cards. Worst case scenario, I can always dig out a sub-18, even off not much training backbone and at least warrant my place within the current 'A' race time band. But I couldn't even scratch that bare minimum requirement on this occasion, falling well short of doing enough to even justify my albeit insignificant participation.
Instead I suffered a second all time top five worst race in the space of less than four months. Hardly a statistic to fill my heart with joy. There was no lack of effort, I grimly held on for the last two kilometres despite the fact that it felt as if this possibly flattest 5K course in the country was actually on a hill. As far as the stiff back was concerned, it felt fine when running. In fact I felt great warming up - sometimes a bad sign! There's no excuses for this result, but there has to be some sort of tenuous explanation after probably the most solid bank of uninterrupted and intensive interval training I've ever done.
At the time of the wheels falling off on Saturday night and the immediate aftermath of what had just happened, all seemed inexplicable. But the subsequent post-mortem pointed towards the previous weekend's extreme deviation from training routine and the two short but very sharp up and downers that I couldn't resist upon the slopes of Helvellyn's Dodd's. Quad muscles mashed, subsequent lactic was seemingly flushed out by a decent flat speed session which restored confidence in still being able to run well at Podium. But remembering back to Saturday evening and locating where the stride shortened and the wheels buckled, it wasn't the usual suspect of hamstrings, adductor or gluets. It was the quads. Could this have been my undoing? The morning after, it was the quads that felt the most worked-out muscle set, which is extremely unusual after a flat 5K . It's normally the calf muscles or the hamstrings doing the screaming. That said and if true, it's still a poor do that I couldn't even hang on for anything near a sub-18. An all time personal worst of 18:19 recorded and last place all to myself by a distance. One or two other competitors bailed however, which I consider a bit of cop out at this sort of distance unless you're injured. It did cross my mind to join them, but with a DNF only last month I can't make it a habit. I stayed on and took my punishment.
I was hoping to have a bit of a ding-dong with my former Blackburn clubmate Paul Guinan as he continues to progress through his most recent comeback. But after all the pre-race bantering by myself, Guiny must have been wondering what a load of deluded drivel I had been banging on about. In retrospect, so do I! He pulled away from me about half way around and that was that.
The next race is going to tell me what's going on. Training has been going well all in all so I'm thinking it was a blip, fatigued quads, very bad day at the office or something like that. What I must stop doing is bigging myself up before a race which is something I've noticed has crept in to my game. I don't do it through arrogance - I have nothing to be arrogant about! - I think it's just sporting nerves and getting myself revved up like back in the footballing days, but it's got to stop. More often than not my words don't match my actions and I end up looking like an even bigger dick than already perceived! If that's possible?!
Lest not I completely smother the good name of Podium 5K in my own misgivings and shortcomings, for I really ought to comment on observations I made at the other side of the track on a night when the course record was beaten again. Talented St Helen's racer Matthew Crehan's trademark confidence was evident. He's not afraid to have a go and took this one out from the front like a man possessed. Every time I glimpsed across he was well ahead, officially by eleven seconds at one point I am informed. Crehan equalled the old record on the night but I was surprised and equally impressed to hear that wily GB runner Tom Lancashire produced the perfect finish to reel him back in and take the race - and the record - in the very closing stages. That's what Podium is actually about, not some ageing average half beat four minutes adrift who dreams of a long term Indian Summer of racing form from within the confinement of the icy caverns of stark reality.
So why do I really invest considerable time and effort in an activity that I'm pretty average at and unlikely to improve upon at forty bloody four? Well, I love it. Not all the time, but most of the time.
However if the grim reaper of athletical capability really does show me his hand this year, then switching codes to the bowling green is right back on the agenda.
Saturday 7th April 2018
PODIUM 5K Steven Burke Cycle & Sports Hub, Barrowford, East Lancs
1st Man - Tom Lancashire (Bolton Utd Harriers) 14:19
1st Lady - Becky Rigby (Preston Harriers) 16:30
My Stats - 18:19 51/51
Friday, 6 April 2018
A SPRING IN TO RACING ACTION
PETE HARTLEY MEMORIAL LIVER HILL RACE... AND OTHER STUFF
Even if you're not a rebel who believes in the meteorological seasons like myself, but more of an astronomical conformist who panders to the needlessness of GMT clock changing and light tampering at this time of year, or maybe just happen to think it's nowhere near warm enough yet, the news is that weather or not (get it? weather or not?) there is no escaping that Spring is officially here.
Spring means night racing and I managed to finally get myself over to Rawtenstall to embark upon the Liver Hill race for the first time. During the last month or so it's fair to say that as far as the fells are concerned I've only done some amblings with Connie the dog which have all played their part in the weekly regime, but so far as where the effort has been focused then it's all been about interval sessions and in that respect probably training more intensively than ever before. This is all about tomorrow's Podium 5K of course, to which I'll ramble about later on.
At Liver Hill, it was all about getting the ball rolling for regular racing again. Regardless of sore fast twitch muscles, general fatigue and any other excuse I could conjure to play down my own hopes to myself, getting a feeling for where my fitness is going in to the new season was also the aim of the game. Entry was free for this one with a no-pressure contribution to Rossendale Mountain Rescue on the table. Any tight arse that didn't stick a few quid in the box - then shame on their very sorry existences.
The race starts and finishes in cross country territory, taking in a couple of the mudslides on the notorious Marl Pits course. Whilst out and back on the moors, there was little to report other than more mud, more bog and how inconspicuous the summit of Liver Hill actually is. Maybe I'm a spoiled fell running brat when I say I wasn't particularly inspired by the course, but it was most certainly a good race with plenty of talented young lads from the host club Rossendale Harriers setting the pace. By the turnaround point at the small cairn on Liver Hill it was clear that most of those ahead of me were going to stay there. I did make the odd gain and the odd loss on the way back in, but it was just a proper get your head down, slog and churn out everything I had on the night. I didn't feel fresh one bit. I suppose I was slightly disappointed with seventeenth in what is essentially a low key race, but I ought not to ponder too much about that as I was only fifty seconds or so from what would have been a very satisfactory seventh. I think a few more races down the line and with the distraction of Podium out of the way then I could get there.
So training has been geared around speed sessions for a good month and a half now, in more recent weeks mainly quarter mile sets of ten with one minute recoveries, run well beyond race pace two or sometimes three times a week. Mileage in between has generally been run to feel or just recovery plods. It's all about a sub-seventeen minute 5K at Podium. All this speed work must count for something and whilst I don't want to pile too much pressure on myself, I really ought to get under seventeen all being well.
All was going to plan until a return of the old lower back strains yesterday, without any particular reason or notice other than sod's law. As I type this now with just less than thirty-one hours until the gun, it's touch and go. Ibuprofen and self massage with my knuckles seem to be giving me some relief! I'll be gutted if I'm not right to run tomorrow night.
Ok so sod's law gets the blame, but maybe I have been getting a bid giddy lately and asking for trouble? When staying at St John's In The Vale for last weekend's Easter break with Sara and Connie, we were literally at the foot of the steep Helvellyn mass up to Stybarrow Dodd. The only way was up for a couple of crazy two and a half milers that left my quads in bits. I simply couldn't resist though - when in Rome... what else to do with a spare half hour after walking all day? When back home, the last flat speed session on Tuesday went some way to flushing out the lactic from the weekend's descents and I was feeling perfectly tuned heading towards my Saturday showdown - that was until the back went twang. Now little over thirty hours to go, I think the worst of it may just have peaked so hope remains.
Tuesday 27th March
PETE HARTLEY MEMORIAL LIVER HILL RACE
Marl Pits, Rawtenstall. East Lancs. 4.3m/820ft
1st Man - Callum Davidson (Rossendale) 34:03
1st Lady - Lauryn Gregg (Rossendale) 44:33
My Stats - 40:10 17/128
PETE HARTLEY MEMORIAL LIVER HILL RACE... AND OTHER STUFF
Even if you're not a rebel who believes in the meteorological seasons like myself, but more of an astronomical conformist who panders to the needlessness of GMT clock changing and light tampering at this time of year, or maybe just happen to think it's nowhere near warm enough yet, the news is that weather or not (get it? weather or not?) there is no escaping that Spring is officially here.
Spring means night racing and I managed to finally get myself over to Rawtenstall to embark upon the Liver Hill race for the first time. During the last month or so it's fair to say that as far as the fells are concerned I've only done some amblings with Connie the dog which have all played their part in the weekly regime, but so far as where the effort has been focused then it's all been about interval sessions and in that respect probably training more intensively than ever before. This is all about tomorrow's Podium 5K of course, to which I'll ramble about later on.
At Liver Hill, it was all about getting the ball rolling for regular racing again. Regardless of sore fast twitch muscles, general fatigue and any other excuse I could conjure to play down my own hopes to myself, getting a feeling for where my fitness is going in to the new season was also the aim of the game. Entry was free for this one with a no-pressure contribution to Rossendale Mountain Rescue on the table. Any tight arse that didn't stick a few quid in the box - then shame on their very sorry existences.
The race starts and finishes in cross country territory, taking in a couple of the mudslides on the notorious Marl Pits course. Whilst out and back on the moors, there was little to report other than more mud, more bog and how inconspicuous the summit of Liver Hill actually is. Maybe I'm a spoiled fell running brat when I say I wasn't particularly inspired by the course, but it was most certainly a good race with plenty of talented young lads from the host club Rossendale Harriers setting the pace. By the turnaround point at the small cairn on Liver Hill it was clear that most of those ahead of me were going to stay there. I did make the odd gain and the odd loss on the way back in, but it was just a proper get your head down, slog and churn out everything I had on the night. I didn't feel fresh one bit. I suppose I was slightly disappointed with seventeenth in what is essentially a low key race, but I ought not to ponder too much about that as I was only fifty seconds or so from what would have been a very satisfactory seventh. I think a few more races down the line and with the distraction of Podium out of the way then I could get there.
So training has been geared around speed sessions for a good month and a half now, in more recent weeks mainly quarter mile sets of ten with one minute recoveries, run well beyond race pace two or sometimes three times a week. Mileage in between has generally been run to feel or just recovery plods. It's all about a sub-seventeen minute 5K at Podium. All this speed work must count for something and whilst I don't want to pile too much pressure on myself, I really ought to get under seventeen all being well.
All was going to plan until a return of the old lower back strains yesterday, without any particular reason or notice other than sod's law. As I type this now with just less than thirty-one hours until the gun, it's touch and go. Ibuprofen and self massage with my knuckles seem to be giving me some relief! I'll be gutted if I'm not right to run tomorrow night.
Ok so sod's law gets the blame, but maybe I have been getting a bid giddy lately and asking for trouble? When staying at St John's In The Vale for last weekend's Easter break with Sara and Connie, we were literally at the foot of the steep Helvellyn mass up to Stybarrow Dodd. The only way was up for a couple of crazy two and a half milers that left my quads in bits. I simply couldn't resist though - when in Rome... what else to do with a spare half hour after walking all day? When back home, the last flat speed session on Tuesday went some way to flushing out the lactic from the weekend's descents and I was feeling perfectly tuned heading towards my Saturday showdown - that was until the back went twang. Now little over thirty hours to go, I think the worst of it may just have peaked so hope remains.
Tuesday 27th March
PETE HARTLEY MEMORIAL LIVER HILL RACE
Marl Pits, Rawtenstall. East Lancs. 4.3m/820ft
1st Man - Callum Davidson (Rossendale) 34:03
1st Lady - Lauryn Gregg (Rossendale) 44:33
My Stats - 40:10 17/128
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