Out to Seaton Carew & back –(Paved & Flat)

Background.
This race report starts in June of last year when I had the bright idea of removing an unsightly raised flowerbed from the garden.
After I’d loaded two and a half tons of rubble into the trailer I discovered I had a bad back.
Despite seeing the physio on several occasions my back had ‘gone out’ more time than I had. I’m sure most of you could testify to this, due to my frequent wailing and gnashing of teeth on Saturday mornings.
The positive bit.
That is, until I started to attend a back class a month or so ago. After ‘engaging my core’ & punishing muscles I never knew I had on several occasions, I was feeling a lot better & decided to start entering races longer than the usual parkrun distance.
The morning of the race.
Still suffering with a cold & lack of sleep from staying up too late, the morning did not start well, but after some porridge & copious amounts of coffee I set off for the coast.
On arrival to say it was cold would be somewhat of an understatement. To be honest it was that bitter, not to mention a well known phrase, the round projectiles on the nearby Trincomalee had detached from their stands & were rolling around on the decks!
Registration.
As with previous years registration was very friendly, quick & efficient. Tee shirt pickup was prior to the event, prompting many comments about not having to run now, I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind.
The obligatory visit to the thunder box.
The queue was quite long but I was soon in conversation with some other runners although I was wishing I had gone back to the car for my nice warm coat. Although I cannot say this was a particularly uplifting experience, the convenience was clean with a good supply of hand sanitiser. Furthermore unlike my experience of the great north run, it had not been delivered to site already pre-filled.
The warmup
I set out around the back of the marina at 10-minute mile pace but my legs were having none of it. Feeling absolute rubbish I persevered for half a mile thinking this is not going well. On stopping my Garmin to record even this brief event, it reported I needed seven hours recovery time- I’d only got 20 minutes before the race start!
I did a few strides and very reluctantly parted with my hoody as I proceeded to the start.
It was there I met Mark C, Lisa M and the family F complete with their turbocharged racing buggies. I couldn’t help wondering why they never made a bigger version so I could get in. It was then I started to contemplate my race strategy & concluded for some unknown reason I was going to start at nine-minute mile pace & see how it went.
The race (bet you thought this bit would never come).
After some brief race instructions we were off. Lisa, Andy & Emma soon disappeared into the distance but I could see Mark up in front from about 50 metres back.

I was soon up on the promenade and the wind hit, diagonally into my face coming in from the North Sea. I couldn’t find anyone tall to run behind, everyone moving at my speed just did not cut it as a windbreak, so I had to grin and bear it. My thoughts went to the buggies up front, it could not have been easy pushing in these conditions.
I hadn’t got to the two-mile marker when the lead runners flew past on their way back. ‘How is this humanly possible to gain over a mile on me already?’ I asked. I could still see Mark up front & thought this can’t be right, so I looked at my Garmin to see 8.5 minute pace and I was actually still feeling reasonable. I decided to stick with it, hoping things would get easier at the turn, telling myself ‘I feel good‘ in the hope it would help. I then saw Andy & Emma on their return journey now literally with the wind in their sails.
Boosted by this I dug in, & was soon at the turn & had actually started to close the gap on Mark. Now that the wind was slightly from behind things became less of a battle. I was actually feeling warm with no more thoughts of differential expansion between brass frames & iron spheres on the deck of the aforementioned warship.
After another half a mile I caught Mark up & concluded he was now paying for the 10 miles before 10 & Parkrun he did on the previous two days.
The Finish
I pushed on towards the finish now believing my own propaganda about feeling good & was overtaking a few fellow competitors along the way. Into the final straight my legs started to complain when I pushed a bit harder. Telling them to ‘shut up’ didn’t help, but I was soon crossing the finish line collapsing into a heap, but not before stopping my Garmin & gratefully grabbing a
bottle of water.
As ever it took an age for my breathing to come under control before I looked at my time..

Official result 41.13 that’s 8:15 minutes a mile!
Well pleased with my first race coming back from injury & a negative split too.
And my back… well lets not tempt fate.
For full race results see & anything else you
might want to know appendix below
By Davewiththeknees (David Round)


Appendix
HMS Trincomalee
It is often stated that the phrase originated from the use of a brass tray, called a “monkey“, to hold cannonballs on warships in the 16th to 18th centuries. Supposedly, in very cold temperatures the “monkey” would contract, causing the balls to fall off.

Race results:
https://runsignup.com/Race/Results/19510/#resultSetId-147843;perpage:10







OK why did I sign up for this –










(an interchange, enabling refreshments twice each lap). Those who have done Druridge cross country would recognise the lake to be orbited each time, but there were also really nice sections of path and closed road, all at easy gradients. The highlight of each circuit was the mile or so stretch on the beach, on hard sand with the wind behind, a lovely bay.
quicker. I never looked behind – now that would have betrayed my pretend nonchalance – but each time I heard him close I dragged myself into a jog. Once past the refreshment table (no final Haribo, I’ve had enough of those for a while!) I kept up a slow run for the last half a kilometre and thanked Noel once we’d both crossed the finish. 13 seconds separated us, he had really helped.
I entered this race earlier in the year not really knowing what to expect. I spent a lot of time there as a child so was well aware of the multi-terrain possibilities of the course. My fear after entering was that it was all going to be off road, uphill, through mud and over tree roots (some people’s cup of tea but I’ve done my share of Tough Mudders).

breath and watched a number of other runners finishing the course.

For those who don
Mother’s Day 10k is part of the Lancaster Race Series and has been a firm favourite in Lancaster for many years. This race attracts many runners from Lancaster and Morecambe but also runners from as far afield as Surrey. Surprisingly, this race is totally flat which is a novelty for Lancaster as there are hills everywhere especially at parkrun.
This was my first race in the Lancaster Race Series, and I would 100% recommend this particular race to anyone as it was well organised with a variety of prizes including a slow cooker and waffle maker (useful for students)!




Ray was kind enough to drive again and we had some company this time from fellow Harrier Lisa Darby and Catriona Miller Frampton. The journey went well apart form no coffee stop and Ray getting the start time muddled up with Sunday’s race, so we arrived 1 hour late! I was very stressed… Luckily though we allowed enough time and made it to registration in time. To be fair to Ray I should have paid attention to the start time myself instead of letting him sort it all out… I had my usual several trips to the loo, sorted my bag out and headed to the start. I chatted with a few friends and Garry Scott did the race brief. There was a bit of controversy the day before with some runners ditching kit. I know it’s a safe, well marked trail and it’s not the longest of events and the weather was okay, but why go against the rules? They got disqualified so hopefully it won’t happen again.
so I don’t think I did anything at goal marathon pace, but plenty of the miles were run at marathon effort. Also, the easy never felt that easy… Saying that, I ran the following week as normal so overall, I gauged the effort right.


was the first Harrier Grand Prix event of the season that I have attended and a good number of Harriers turned out to run the ‘fast flat course’ in North Yorkshire. My definition of flat appears to differ to that of race organisers – yes, it wasn’t hilly, but not what I would call flat. The race HQ was at Thirsk Racecourse and seemed to be well organised. There was plenty of parking and I didn’t have to queue for the loo – woo hoo!
which I needed). With over a thousand race entries, the start made for a crowded affair. It took a few miles to really get going, but it was a pleasant sight to see a long line of multi-coloured runners snaking along the country lanes. The course contained an out and back section, which seemed to last forever. I was relieved when I was finally on the main road heading back to the racecourse, blissfully unaware that Pete King was slowly reeling me in. The finish area was awash with yellow t-shirts from the event, but I didn’t hang round for long – that wind was cold!
I entered this race wistfully hoping for a PB, which didn’t happen. I really struggled during the run and was pleased when it was over. I later had to abandon my shopping plans and curl up on the living room floor with stomach cramps and sickness, not how I normally spend race days.
