LEGS DEFY ORDERS  
DON ASHTON MEMORIAL TOCKHOLES FELL RACE
It's been a crazy English Summer so far. Hot and sunny every day for two months, a day has not gone by where it's not been fit to peg washing out. England's football team have been the most aesthetically pleasing that certainly I can ever rememberand reaching the World Cup Semi-Finals - but in the world of this running nobody in particular, the wait goes on to run a good race. Excuses are futile and should not detract from the fact that even if the old pins are a bit jaded, I ought to be conditioned enough to grind out something a little better than this.
It was great to see numbers up by almost half for Calvin Ferguson's race, in honour of his veteran champion fell running Granddad. I raced this one last year and whilst I wouldn't put my keen reappearance down to a particular fondness of the course, plenty of decent local competition turn out, there's a good atmosphere about it, a decent pint and natter at The Rock Inn and it's got the sort of no nonsense, rock up and race atmoshere that fell running is all about. So I rocked up again this year and when pondering the evening's line-up, I had good reason to expect to be having a close battle with the likes of Barlick's Andy Berry and a rival from last Summer, Thomas Harkin. I got off to a decent start despite being narked by a couple of incidents early on. Firstly, a Preston runner decided the road sized bridleway we were running down was simply not wide enough. Suddenly and needlessly he cuts across and right under my feet, nearly taking us both out. Raised arm of acknowledgement? There was not. Half a minute later there's a narrow downhill section where a cluster of lads got a bit excited, thrusting themselves down there as if the finishing line is approaching already. One of whom sounds to me from behind in a panic stricken tone, ''COMING THROUGH INSIDE!!''. What the fff...?!?! Now THAT is just bad manners in this game and oh, just five and a half miles remaining at that point. I've seen this lad from the Red Rose club out before, I think he ought to know a bit better than that. I've no qualms about somebody passing - it's a race! But for me, it's the responsibility of the over-taker to do so with a bit of etiquette at least. Nip past if there's a gap, wait a few seconds if there isn't, especially when it's so early in a race. Either way, shouting that sort of nonsense out loud was absolutely ridiculous behaviour in my opinion. I think to myself how great it must be for Josh Boyle and Rob Hope at the front, avoiding all these instances of nuisance value amongst us also-rans.
One of my targets for the evening, Andy Berry is off to flyer. That short stride kicking onwards and away from me, but with still plenty of the race left to go I'm feeling relaxed. That man Fishwick's only just gone past as we get to Bold Venture Park and so has Preston's Jon Green who is on a comeback and just behind me at Tebay last week. Climbing up through the park and on to the moor I'm pretty steady, holding my place. Harkin is now in the mix and I'm sat on him until we plateau upon the moor. That's where engine failure kicked in. I'm not even busting my lungs yet, but I just can't get my legs to turn over quick enough. This seems to have been the case since upping the weekly elevation considerably. The knees just seem a touch stiffer than usual. Oxygen supply was sufficient, but there was a breakdown of electrical communication from brain to legs and they basically defied my orders. Harkin and the Darwen Dasher lad James France get away from me, Berry, Fishwick and Green have now long gone. So I start to properly bust a gut a bit earlier than I would have liked and yet it makes no difference to my pace. There's about a mile of flat and slightly downhill running in to the final third of the race, some of it on a tarmac surface, but even this speedy section was feeling like a wade through treacle. Two runners come by before we pop over a stile back towards Sunnyhurst Reservoir - Rossendale's Marc Barrett and Stephen Smithies of Calder Valley. If I'd been diary writing during the first few years of running, then Steve would have got plenty of mentions. We had some good battles over all sorts of distances and terrains. Now a Vet 50, he's looking in fantastic shape again after quite a few years in and out of the game with a knee injury. He seemed very comfortable here as he cruised by. This was a wake up call for me though. Barrett unfortunately lost his footing and crashed forwards in to the next stile, which I dare say knocked the stuffing out of him a little as Steve and I nudged ahead of him. Then as we approach the road over the damn of the reservoir, it's Steve who sounds like he's puffing a bit now, whilst I seem to catch a second wind and get ahead again. There's a bit of a sting in the tail which I saved myself for and once at the crest of it, I put the work in for the final half mile and managed to keep Mr Smithies behind me on this occasion. Far from delighted with my overall run at the finish, retrospectively I was only about a minute down on what I would have considered quite satisfactory.
If I didn't quite do myself justice in the Ribble Valley Harriers vest this evening, then two that did would be Josh Boyle and Katie Walshaw who won with new course records to their name. I'd like to be getting a bit nearer to Katie in races, but maybe I should be looking behind me. Katie was sixty nine seconds ahead, but only forty five in my wake was the legend Shaun Livesey Snr who continues to make progress on his comeback. In equine terms, Shaun is a thoroughbred, regardless of his age or years spent out of the racing loop. As a comparative carthorse, there is only so much I can do to stop him catching me up eventually. Hitting a run of consistently decent form would certainly help stave  Shaun off a bit longer.

Thursday 5th July 2018
DON ASHTON MEMORIAL TOCKHOLES FELL RACE   5.8m/1100ft   Tockholes, East Lancs.
1st Man - Josh Boyle (Ribble Valley Harriers) 35:42
1st Lady - Katie Walshaw (Ribble Valley Harriers) 40:20
My Stats - 41:29  15/143