Category: Race Rundowns

There has been a number of sparkling performances by Harriers recently, both individually and teams. This rundown isn’t about another so please feel free to click on something more interesting or inspirational if you prefer.

My good friends Gary and Steph persuaded me to participate in my home town 10k for the first time last year and after enjoying it, we all did so again this time around. Gary and I have history; we were at Derby College together and then Hull Uni (where he exchanged roommates for the much lovelier Steph) and nowadays they are both Tadcaster Harriers and quick. This year I asked Mark if he fancied it too, to which he said yes and we had a good trip to the Midlands. We stayed over at my Mum’s and went out for a very nice pub meal on Saturday evening with her, my Uncle Malc and another good mate Roo and his family. Sunday morning began with a 6.30am alarm, 5.30am if the clocks hadn’t gone forward. It was a damp, cold morning but my mum said she’d come along too. She is 83, I am 53, it’s still nice when your mum comes along to watch you on a Sunday morning.

The race starts and finishes at Derby County’s Pride Park Stadium and all proceeds go to the club’s charitable trust. This trust includes providing a luncheon club at my mum’s church so I know they do good work. Derby County as a football club is struggling in the third division at the minute but it’s just a temporary thing. It is still the centre of the footballing universe and not just my universe because Roo once told me that it is the club most geographically central to all other clubs in the country and Roo knows some stuff so I believe him.

I’ll get to the race in a minute, honest. Pride Park is not just the stadium name but for the whole former area of railway industry and sidings, reclaimed in the 1990s. It was also on the national shortlist of four venues for the Year 2000 millennium park. I had moved to the north east by then and so despite the local excitement, recognised that it never quite had the cache of the Greenwich Meridian for ushering in a new age. We got a nice football stadium out of it though.

My running over the last few months has been garbage. Full of  self pity, I’ve had a ‘thing’ down my left side for a couple of years and recently it has been very sore in a sciatic kind of way. I made it to last week’s Thursday session for the first time in ages and in Ean’s 2 x timed 1 miles, I managed an average of 8:13. Painful and rubbish. Mark also had flu in the week so between us we were rattling with ibuprofen and paracetamol on the start line (don’t try it kids, drugs are never cool) with no expectation of running well at all. We didn’t see Gary and Steph but knew they were there somewhere, and then spied them after about a mile on an early switchback. They were about 50 seconds ahead.

The rain stopped and though windy it was really quite pleasant for racing. Mark and I began deliberately steadily but at 2k I realised he was getting restless and off he went. The course took us away from the stadium and into the city centre. Mark never really pulled away that far and at 4k I noticed I was catching him again. On the way down St Peter’s Street I closed right up and at the junction of St James’ Street I caught him with some trivia about my dad. My Dad – who passed away on Easter Sunday 2017, a week before my maiden marathon in London – was Derby born and bred, Derby County daft and for most of his career was Derby’s tallest policeman at 6’8”. I don’t remember it, but as a younger bobby, he used to do traffic duty at the corner of St James’ Street. He was very visible apparently. Mark, it turns out, wasn’t in any frame of mind to receive this trivia and so I eased on realising I was feeling quite a lot stronger than anticipated.

The only problem with overtaking your best running mate at the half way point is that you then have to stay ahead of him. We swung past the cathedral to a drinks station and a PA shout-out point. I heard a “Well done Sedgefield Harriers!” on the tannoy, immediately followed by “And well done to another Sedgefield Harrier!” so I knew he was still there. The route back to the stadium followed a coned off section of Brian Clough Way (the A52 dual carriageway between Derby and Nottingham, the two clubs once managed by the great man, though he had sense and always lived at western end…) and I felt I had put some distance between myself and Mark. You can’t look around too often though, that’s not cool. I began to think about Gary and Steph too. I knew Steph was after a PB and wondered now if I might catch them. A couple of guys ran with me for about a mile, one pacing the other to his first 10k. The pacer was from Manchester, they told me, though his younger novice was local. I told them I was once local but now living in exile in the north east. Was it a job that took me north, asked the pacer? No it was a woman, I explained, and later this week we celebrate 27 wedded bliss years so it’s all worked out alright. I’ve no idea what happened to those guys, but I was grateful to the distraction.

Last year the second half of the event was really tough. This year, amazingly, given all my recent hypochondria, it was actually quite pleasurable and also my favourite part. Negative splits too. What’s that all about? My Mum gave me a shout-out in the final straight and I finished in a very ordinary but pleasing-in-the-circumstances 51:24. Only a few seconds slower than last year. Gary and Steph had also just run through the line with an excellent PB for Steph, and so with Mark finishing less than a minute behind, we were able to do the final celebrity walk-up together.

A shower and a bacon sandwich at my Mum’s, followed by a nice drive home, if a little sore once the ibuprofen wore off. Mark was definitely a bit under the weather but I think he enjoyed his first visit to the home/centre of English football. Me, I’m back again next weekend with Grace for the Ipswich game. I had a good time.

By Chris and Abie Hearmon.

11/2/23  Rotorua New Zealand.

Although a foot injury stopped me running for the latter half of 2022 my aim for 2023 was to be fit to walk two of New Zealand’s multiday hikes on our retirement holiday. During our trip as well as the walking we did a few parkruns, Christmas eve in Napier and New years eve in Queenstown! We completed the 54km Milford track and a week later the shorter but steeper 32km Routeburn. Later on in the itinerary Abie had planned to do her first ultra – a 50km trail run in Rotorua. However after falling off a mountain  bike and breaking her arm requiring surgery, training was somewhat interrupted, although she was back running parkrun (Blenheim this time) only 10 days post op. Disappointed not to be joining her friends in the 50k, she suggested we do the 21k event as we had already booked our accommodation for the event and the cut off time was 9 hours which we were pretty sure we’d make, even if we walked the whole way! We ran a 10km once and that was training complete.

The UTMB event had races ranging from 21km to 100 mile. Sadly due to recent cyclones and flooding the longer races were rerouted but half marathon course was unaffected. The 100milers had started at 4am, whereas ours was a civilized 9am. Angus dropped us off in the bus queue to get to the start and went off to do the Rotorua parkrun around the corner. As in all races, wherever in the world you are, there was a long queue for the loos. We were entertained by the last bus driver demolishing a few bollards as he tried to turn around, then there was a karakia (Maori prayer) before the race started. Our 1st section was a circuit of Lake Tikitapu, and was mainly flat and a good surface. Then we headed into the beautiful Whakarewarewa (Redwood forest), on walking and mountain bike trails. There were some tough uphills and a lot of tree roots which sent a few people flying, but we both managed to stay on our feet. At times some speedy 50k runners zipped past us, and occasional bikers had to pull over as a sea of runners came towards them. The Aid stations were well stocked, not that we needed much, but those doing the longer events were being well supported. The volunteers were all very enthusiastic in their support. At 15k we left the forest, having descended a lot of steep steps and headed towards Rotorua. Though flat, this section headed towards the lakeshore at Sulphur Point. There were some lovely rotten egg smells to complement the bubbling thermal pools and interesting mineral deposits. Lack of training was now telling for us both and Abie was trying hard to keep me motivated.

However we reached the grass of the event village and crossed the finish line in 2 hrs 57mins 52 seconds, having run much more than we’d expected to. Medals received and post race snacks eaten then there was the opportunity to foam roller on the grass. Post race ice cream then beckoned and we spotted Kate Avery, formerly from Shildon who had come 3rd lady in the 50k event. We saved our post race beer token for after lunch when we returned to see Abie’s friends, Hannah who finished the 50k in 7 hrs 30 and Immy passed through the half way point in her 102k run. At 4am when Immy finally finished she was welcomed by Abie and Hannah who dragged themselves back out of bed to see her home. Next day we all took advantage of the Rotorua thermal waters for some well deserved recovery. Amazingly our legs felt fine after the healing waters! The following day Cyclone Gabrielle hit, causing extensive flooding and damage to roads throughout the North Island and we had to stay sheltered indoors, no running possible!

I targeted this race just before Christmas …. I fancied having a crack at a 10km PB and so I devised a 6 week training programme with a mix of running, cycling and Pilates. All runs to be done easy (in order to avoid injury), all effort sessions are to be done on the bike (to avoid injury) and a daily Pilates session (to avoid injury). There was definitely an over riding theme to this plan.

Plan is written out and 2 weeks in, things are going great. My Functional Threshold Power on the bike has increased and I’m happily ticking off the sessions and really enjoying doing them too. Then I had a horrible cold. I’ve heard that a lot of people have had it this winter. Normally I would still run with a cold but not this one. I didn’t do any exercise for a week. I was so grumpy.

When I felt well enough to run I couldn’t find the piece of paper with my plan on it. Where has it gone? I couldn’t download another version of it as I had made it up and the scrappy bit of paper I had written it on was my only record. Annoyed with myself , I resigned to thinking that my grand scheme to target a PB had been quashed and I decided to abandon the idea. But, a week before the race I ran a PB at parkrun ….. I’ve only ever had 5 parkrun PBs over the last 11 years and so they are a fairly rare occurrence . This made me think that maybe all is not lost after all , and that, perhaps I should still give it a go.

All going well again until Friday night…… Rob asks, ‘Jane, do you want this salmon for tea? It’s two days out of date, but it looks ok; I’m having it’ I eat the salmon. By the next morning I’m regretting it ….. and so is Rob. I manage to get myself round at parkrun and eat my regular cheese scone in the cafe afterwards but it feels like there’s a dance party going on inside my stomach. This continues for the next 24 hours .

Race Day and now my main concern is how long the queues for the loos are …… I count them, 5 in total and 200 plus people . Oh s*?t. Got to the front of the queue. No toilet roll. Fortunately my golden rule on any run of any distance is to carry toilet roll. It’s my best piece of running advice that I never give out to other people , instead I say stuff like, ‘helium balloons’ , ‘run tall’ , ‘drive your arms’. Nope, ignore all of that. The best advice is ‘always carry toilet roll’.

The run itself is 2 laps of the Town Moor which is quite exposed but wasn’t too windy that day. The footpaths are mainly good but there’s a couple of sections with huge potholes and a run along the side of a road where you constantly dodge tree stumps. I had targeted bang on 7 min miles. This would bring me to the finish in 43.30 which would be a 90 second PB and it also made the mental maths easy to add up as I clocked up the miles.

I set off fast , far too fast, but strangely felt comfortable. Went through the first 5km in 20.38, a 5km PB …. What am I doing? I knew I had to be disciplined and not get too carried away, otherwise the last few miles would be torture. I felt ok though. Then the dance party returned, after about 4 and a half miles. Not now, please not now. Without too much detail, enough has been said already …. I finish. I don’t know how , but I finish, and I’m delighted with my time of 42.02.

I head straight back to the loo. On reflection, I decide that it’s time to write a training plan, keep it somewhere safe and refrain from eating Rob’s out of date dinners. I’m so after sub 42 next time.

By Beth Raine.

So, rewind to December last year when this photo pops up on Facebook from Justin and Gary. Raving about how good the marathon was in Valencia and recommending it to Harriers looking for some winter sun…

A mere month later in January 2022, following one of their training runs, Mark and Lisa suggest a meal together at the Raines’ house to discuss a proposal with myself and Graham.

“How about we go to Valencia to do the marathon in December”? Mark suggests.

“Sounds good” says Lisa.

Now Graham and I were on the spot but having had a few drinks and it being 11 months down the line, we both said yes and promptly put it to the back of our minds. After all, we had plenty of time to train for it and there was the small matter of the Grand Prix to contend with (note Mark, Lisa and Graham all won their respective Divisions – just me that couldn’t make it a full house because of that pesky Dave Round)!

We had a few more “planning” evenings which were code for beer, cider or in my case, wine whilst we loosely discussed arrangements for the fast-approaching race.

However, when August came, I realised December would come along quickly and I really ought to do some training that meant running over a 10k!

Training for us all had its ups and downs. Lisa suffered with injury and did Chester whilst she wasn’t fully fit. Mark picked up an injury too and was laid low for a while. My training was going okay until I got a cold at the end of October which kept me out of the game for a couple of weeks (more of that later).

Luckily for me, I had the benefit of company on longer training runs with Georgina Letts being a particular star and nagging me to make sure I drank and ate enough on the longer ones. But I also had the company of Tracy F, Sue D and Anna on my last long one which was a 20 miler.

Friday 2^nd December arrived and an early start to get us on a flight to Alicante then a hire car to Valencia.

We arrived and went to the Expo to collect our bibs, t-shirts and goody bags (I love a race that gives out the t-shirt before you do the race, means you can back out)!

The finish area looked amazing, and we were excited to see what it would be like on raceday.

It soon became clear that perhaps Graham and I (Lisa and Mark are the speedy ones so they were okay) had bitten off more than we could chew. Everyone looked like an elite runner, and we also discovered the cut off was 5 hours 30 mins so it wasn’t full of “fun runners” like at UK based marathons, everyone here meant business.

That feeling was compounded on the Saturday morning when we did the 5k Breakfast Run when again, everyone else looked like they were Eliud Kipchoge wannabes, and I was out of my depth!

However, it was good to get a few miles in the legs the day before and of course, we had to run there so it was 5 miles in total.

Pre-race fuelling involved pizza, cider and wine (Lisa Darby’s tried and tested method) and an early night.

Now what I have omitted to mention is that the cold I had got in October (the one I mentioned earlier) hadn’t really shifted and Mark had picked it up in the meantime. This meant neither Mark or I were feeling on top form but neither of us intended on missing this opportunity, so we decided to do just do our best and see how we got on. My aim of beating my 2019 London Marathon time of 4:53 looked optimistic and Mark’s target of 3:15 was in the balance too.

However, Race Day arrived, perfect conditions….dry, sunny and an 8:25am start meant it wasn’t too hot. After a slight panic of where we all needed to be (Lisa missed her wave but the marshals let her head off before the next wave, so she had some clear traffic) we all set off. Lisa first, then Mark, then Graham and I bringing up the rear in the over 4 hour wave.

My plan was to NOT do what. I did at London, and set off too quickly. 10:30min/mile pace was the aim and I pretty much stuck to it. The question is, without Paula dragging me round the last 12 miles, could I do this on my own or would I crash and burn?

Now let’s talk about the course. Whenever I saw Justin or Gary at Cross Country in the months leading up to the race, we would talk about Valencia. Both still raved about their experience months later and reassured me it was pancake flat. They weren’t wrong. It was super flat and as I am not a fun of any incline (or bumps in the road as Mark likes to call them), this suited me down to the ground. The support on the course was great and although my Spanish is not great, I realised that chants of “animo, animo, animo” were words of encouragement which helped push me along.

I felt good, I felt strong and I made a deal with myself that providing I got to 20 miles by 3:30, I had an hour and 15 minutes to shuffle the last 6.2 miles to get me in on my new target of 4:45.

I knew that Mark and Lisa would have finished their races by then and would be tracking me and Graham so I didn’t want to let them down.

20 miles came after 3:27 but whilst I knew I would slow down, I tried to hold on to some sort of pace, praying to avoid hitting “the wall”. Now it’s at this point, my previous marathon experience helped. I knew it was going to hurt, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, but I’d managed it before, I could manage it again.

The last few miles were brutal but the approach to the finish area was around the centre of the city where the support was the loudest. With 400m to go, you drop down onto a blue carpet and it looks like you are running on the water that surrounds you. I suddenly heard screams of “Beth Beth” from above and it was Mark and Lisa on the bridge cheering me in. I managed a smile and arm wave and even a sprint finish (I have no idea where it came from). I looked up at the time and it was 4:38 gun time and on my watch it was 4:37:54! I was so happy!

With the second goody bag of the weekend collected (with some unusual offerings which included broccoli) it was time to find Mark and Lisa to see how their races had gone…had they hit their targets?

It was never in doubt, a 3:11:29 for Mark, 3:15 dead for Lisa and Graham… (having deployed Jane’s run walk strategy) he came in at 5:12:32. PBs for everyone!

So if you fancy some winter sun in a beautiful city on a pancake flat course, I would thoroughly recommend Valencia!

By Tony Barrass

The weekend got off to an inauspicious start at 6am on Saturday morning…

What was to have been a leisurely 2 hrs 50 min Durham to Kings Cross train journey became a 7 hour marathon Sunderland Park Lane to London Victoria via Megabus courtesy of the rail strike…most definitely a bus but not entirely convinced by its “Mega” credentials….

But no matter!  Mrs B (Christine, a former Harrier herself some may recall …) and I were in London on a glorious early Autumn weekend and after a pleasant evening in our Waterloo hotel and a very early light brekkie we set off to Hyde Park for the 9am start of the Royal Parks Half Marathon. This was an event that had long been on the to do list but we had not yet taken the Chance to do.

We lined up with c16000 fellow runners on South Carriage Drive and were soon away with our blue wave compadres. The route is a tourist’s dream, taking in three of the Royal Parks (Hyde, Green and St James) and many of the classic landmarks. Kicking off through Wellington Arch and down Constitution Hill to Buckingham Palace brought back recent memories – hard to believe what had taken place here less than three weeks ago. A few of the floral tributes still remained in Green Park but looking rather sad for themselves now.

The weather was perfect. Sunny but with a cooling early morning breeze.  It was even possible to do a bit of celebrity spotting, if you can count Dermot O’Leary, Sian Williams along with Eastenders star Natalie Cassidy and Love Island’s Priya Gopaldas as such….

And a bit of reverse celebrity spotting back from the crowds too with people shouting “that looks like Pete King’s Harriers vest!”…and they were right – it was!  as a spare had been generously loaned to me for the big day.

There was so much to see it was quite easy to forget about running at times. Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Whitehall (accompanied by random chants from the field of “Tories out” which in my mind required a prefix of “Oggie, Oggie, Oggie”… ). Into mile 4 and  just like Roxy Music we did the Strand although I doubt Bryan Ferry did it this way. Quick double back past Trafalgar Square and out onto the Mall for first water stop and energy gel.

Following that was the only real incline of the course as we headed back up Constitution Hill and back into Hyde Park which is where we would remain for the last 7 miles or so.

Ahead of the race this was the part that concerned me most as it consists of various loops around the park. Would it be boring?, would there be anyone watching? I couldn’t have been more wrong – It was great – with surprises at each turn and huge support from the sides.

At around 8 miles I developed a bout of phantom cramp. I am prone to cramp in longer events and occasionally the thought of it can actually make it a physical reality, which is what I feared was happening. But I pushed on, getting to the  9 mile water station was the Name of the Game, and thankfully by then I was running freely, if not particularly speedily, pushing comfortably through the psychological 10 mile mark.

The remaining 3 miles in the park passed by trouble free, the finishing straight back along South Carriage Drive past the Albert Hall was long but an absolute joy with crowds a la Great North run.

I finished in a time of 2:09 which I was pleased with and pretty much par for me at the moment. The day was as much about enjoyment as achievement When All Is Said and Done.

Christine came in a short time later which was cracking effort given her recent injury and limited training. At least One of Us was happy!

Being Eco warriors (….?) we had opted to “plant a tree” rather than take the usual T shirt. The race really pushes its sustainability credentials, we got a wooden medal too but somehow still ended up with a Royal Bank of Canada cuddly lion and Snood. Ah well, a nice change from Haribo and inedible energy bars.

So that concludes my first Harriers race rundown, no more words to say, no more ace to play, the Winner Doesn’t Always Take It All  – it was a fabulous event and one that will live long in the memory. Interest for next year already registered!

We completed the day by going along to Stratford on the evening to see the Abba Voyage show, but you may have guessed that by now…. 😊

Those blasted pork pies

An ultra adventure in the Scottish Highlands

by Chris Lines

I’m not a big fan of pork pies. I rarely eat them. In fact, I very rarely eat them. It’s not that I actively dislike them, but they are not high on my list of preferred pastries. So, when I look back and consider that I recently carried four of the ruddy things for 57km, I am led to start questioning some of my choices in life. I carried them, but did not eat any of them. This, I feel, was a tactical error during my participation in the Lochaber 80 Trail Ultra. However, I think it might have been the only tactical error that I made during the event.

Ultra running is not really my thing and I have no ambition to change that. There are other members of Sedgefield Harriers who excel at covering very long distances with apparent ease and comfort. I doff my cap to them, but don’t intend to join their ranks. The reason for my temporary lapse is linked to the Great North Run. I take part in the world’s largest half marathon every year, but was unable to secure a place for 2022 via the lottery and hadn’t forked out even more money to guarantee a place through Great Run membership. I gratefully accepted a charity place from Durham Wildlife Trust, but it felt a bit cheeky to ask people to sponsor me at an event that I’d participate in anyway. In a moment of weakness, I decided to up the stakes by tackling the treble of a half marathon, full marathon and ultra marathon. Alongside the Great North Run, I knew which event would be the marathon – Kielder Marathon at the start of October. However, I needed to find an autumn ultra.

As it happens, I do some work for the company that organises the Salomon Skyline Scotland weekend, which this year was going to see the addition of some new trail races, including an 80km monster. Without giving myself the time to reconsider, I took the plunge and secured a place on the Lochaber 80, which would also be part of the Spartan Trail Ultra World Championship. I had actually known this, but had forgotten until I noted the names of some others who had entered. Suddenly, I was daunted by more than just the distance and elevation ahead.

Salomon Skyline Scotland is an annual event based up in Kinlochleven in the Scottish Highlands, in the shadow of the Ben Nevis range. The weekend includes a series of skyrunning and trail races, with distances from 5km to 80km. The toughest of these are ultras, in the form of two of the three skyruns, the 52km Ben Nevis Ultra (with 4,000m of ascent) and the 52km Glencoe Skyline (with 4,750m of ascent) – definitely not for me! Alongside the Mamores Stalker 27km Trail Race, the Lochaber 80 made its debut this year. Unlike the two 52km skyruns, the race was designed to be much more ‘runnable’ for most of its distance, with a route that weaved its way through the glens, rather than head to the summits. Nevertheless, there was plenty of technical terrain to tackle (especially in the first 25km), and the significant matter of 2,000m of ascent, including a long slog up the flanks of Ben Nevis at around 50km into the run.

I didn’t enter the event until the end of July, so my training for the Lochaber 80 was limited in its scope. While on holiday, I managed to fit in a 21-mile run with about 220m of ascent, but that was as far as I got in actual running preparation. As race day approached, I felt a bit nervous, but one way or another, it was going to be an adventure in a glorious part of the world, so I was excited too.

In the build up to the event, I was clear in my own mind that my first priority was to complete the 80km within the time limit allowed. The Lochaber 80 was advertised as an ultra with generous cut-off times. The race started at 7:00am and the first cut-off at 19km was 12:00pm. The second at 33km was 2:00pm, the third at 57km was 6:30pm, and participants were required to complete the run by 10:00pm. On the face of it, those times are indeed generous, but 80km is a long way and much of it would be unknown territory for me. However, I did allow myself a more ambitious stretch target, which was to get around in 12 hours. Mrs Lines was good enough to join me for the trip to Scotland and so we set off for the Highlands.

The mandatory kit list for the event was relatively extensive; waterproof jacket and overtrousers, insulated top, extra baselayer, hat and gloves, survival bag, head torch, water bottle/hydration system, whistle, and sufficient food. Ahead of packing everything for the weekend, I popped to a shop for a few bits and bobs and it was there that I spotted the mini pork pies. They promised a succulent filling, all encased in beautiful golden crusty pastry. I’d read plenty of accounts from ultra runners who ended up craving proper comfort food like that during a race, and I knew from my limited experience of longer events in the past that a good old fashioned pork pie or two could prove to be very useful. So, when I lined up nervously early on the morning of Saturday 17^th September, I had four of the beggars stuffed into a pocket in my race vest.

A piper sent us on our way at the allotted time, and the racing snakes at the front rapidly disappeared off along the first trail. I focused on getting into the right mindset and rhythm for a very long run, making sure that my pace was comfortably sustainable. The first section presented the most technical underfoot conditions, which was actually helpful in discouraging me from going too fast. I had the route downloaded to my watch, which started counting down the distance from the start (this was not massively helpful from a psychological point of view in the early stages!), but there was no navigation involved, as the entire route was marked by red flags (all of which were removed afterwards, leaving no trace).

At around 14km in, I passed a first casualty, a runner who had stopped for some reason, but he wasn’t in distress and assured me that he was okay. Only 200m or so further along the trail, I met a member of the event support team who was heading back to find him, either alerted by another participant or by the runner himself sending a message. This moment was typical of the organisers’ approach to managing the race and the safety of those taking part – exemplary throughout.

I reached the first support point in about two hours and twenty minutes. I knew that the first cut-off time was very generous, but this still felt great! And I felt really good too, boosted by chatting to the two volunteers there, and the snacks that they had on offer – I helped myself to cheese, potatoes and some crisps, and refilled my water bottle. A fellow runner arrived just after me and then we set off on the next 14km section together.

What followed was really odd. About one kilometre along the trail, my legs started feeling really heavy and my energy level dipped. That coincided with a tussocky, boggy, ill defined section of the route, and at one point I mis-stepped and found myself up to my waist in water and mud for a few seconds. I kept pace with my temporary running companion for a few more kilometres, but still felt lethargic and ushered him on his way. Then I was joined and passed by one of the UK’s leading ultra runners, Elaine Bisson. By now, we were back on a wide gravelly track, heading gently downhill. At one point, Elaine took a tumble just in front of me, but thankfully, she wasn’t hurt and was soon moving ahead of me again. I started to feel a bit better during the last three or four kilometres to the next support point – whether the issue had been physical or psychological or both I don’t know, but I was definitely stronger as I approached another table covered in salty and sweet goodies. Noting that I’d reached the 33km point in about four and a quarter hours cheered me up no end too, as I’d got there even before the cut-off time for the previous support point.

Elaine and the other runner were still there when I arrived, preparing to leave, but I didn’t attempt to set off with them. I took some time to do some faffing and eat some of the cheese sandwiches that were on the table, and some more crisps. Just I was about to set off again, the next runner arrived. I left a couple of minutes ahead of him.

In my mind, I had always considered that the next section of the run would be the crux for me. If I could get to the final support point at 57km in just about one piece and with enough time in the bank, then I was confident that I would be able to drag my body around the final half marathon. Of course, ‘if’ was the operative word, as I was heading into uncharted territory and a sustained climb up to the climbers’ hut beneath the towering buttresses of Ben Nevis. Leaving the second support point, I experienced another dip in energy and mood – the fact that I still had nearly 50km to go probably had something to do with that! A couple of other participants went past me.

With the knowledge that the long ascent to the hut was a little over 10km ahead, I deliberately slowed down, trying to reserve some energy for that specific challenge. And a challenge it was! The path wasn’t particularly steep, but took me steadily (and slowly) uphill for over three kilometres. I could see the hut from a long way off, but it didn’t seem to get any closer until I was a few hundred metres away. My relief at reaching it was matched by my delight at finding a fast running stream close by, where I could refill a bottle.

Then it was an about turn and a welcome gentle downhill on the other side of the glen, followed by another short climb before the long descent to the next support point in the Ben Nevis Visitor Centre car park. It was getting on to mid-afternoon at this point, which presented a new challenge. The path down to the visitor centre is very rocky and not great for running on, but more than that, this seemed to be peak time for folk returning after a morning ascent of the main tourist route up the Ben. It was like the congestion at the start of the Great North Run (sort of)! After a steep, careful descent, the sight of the team at the final support point was very welcome. It wasn’t quite 3:00pm and I was still in one piece.

At this moment, I started to believe that not only would I complete the Lochaber 80, but that I could even achieve my stretch target. But I was careful to not get complacent – after all, there was still more than half a marathon to get through. The team at the support point cheerfully reassured me that much of the final section was very runnable. I joked with them that this was a lovely thought in theory, but unlikely for me in practice. Nevertheless, I got stuck into some final faffing ahead of the last push, aiming to lighten the load and ditch any provisions that I no longer needed. And that takes me back to those pork pies.

I’d carried them for 57km in the belief that they could provide me with vital sustenance at a crucial moment. But now that I’d reached that third support point, I had no appetite for them and I really didn’t see the point in carrying them for another 23km. So I waved them a wistful goodbye, wondering whether they were as tasty as they looked, as I headed along the next trail.

I left that final support point knowing that to complete the run in 12 hours, I had four hours to get to Kinlochleven – by no means rapid for 23km, but this was after already completing almost three half marathons. While I felt relatively okay, the mileage was taking its toll on body and mind. It was time to dig in and keep repeating the mantra ‘run when you can, walk when you have to’.

About seven kilometres into that final leg, as drizzle started to turn to persistent rain, I began to feel a bit light headed and hankered for some substantial food, something like an emergency pork pie for example! In the absence of that option, I had to suffice with an ‘infusion’ of nuts. Thankfully, that did the job, and miraculously, it turned out that even in my knackered state, significant stretches of the last 10km were indeed runnable, albeit at a very reduced pace. Slowly and surely, I could sense that the finishing line was threatening to loom.

I actually enjoyed the last three kilometres, which took runners steadily downhill and back into Kinlochleven. Although my main aim from the start had always been to simply get round, rather than race anyone, by now I was keen to not ship any more places, so pushed as much as I could, and my pace for the final 500 metres was my fastest of the entire run. I even managed something that a generous observer might describe as almost like a sprint finish. The reception for every runner at the end was fantastic, made even more special for me by Catherine being part of it. And as I crossed the line, Neil Young’s ‘Rockin’ in the Free World’ was blasting out over the PA. Bonus! It turned out that the next runners were only two and three minutes behind me respectively, so that final effort was worth at least two places.

It was the end of a memorable day and a thoroughly rewarding experience. Reflecting on it since, I am pretty happy with how I planned and executed my run. While my pastry tactic didn’t work out, I did manage my nutrition pretty well, setting an alarm on my watch to go off every hour as a reminder to eat, and then obeying that reminder. And when my pace slowed at those moments when I was struggling a bit, or a fellow participant floated past, I didn’t allow myself to worry unduly and just kept plodding on, giving myself the occasional pep talk as I went. Those pep talks were almost all out loud while in splendid isolation. I’m quite content running on my own. In fact, I think that I preferred it to those moments when I had company.

Oh, and one other point. For various reasons, I’m always cautious about recommending running footwear to people, but if you have narrow feet like me, I’d certainly suggest considering Saucony products. I invested in a pair of the brand’s Peregrine 12 trail shoes. If truth be told, I left that purchase a bit too close to the event for comfort and had only worn them twice beforehand, for a parkrun and a Wednesday evening training session. So, that could have become a problem, but they performed brilliantly in terms of grip, traction and comfort up in Scotland. Amazingly, when I removed them after the race – now thoroughly soaked and caked in mud – my feet were entirely blister and blemish free. I was astounded.

I finished the Lochaber 80 in 11 hours, eight minutes and 24 seconds. For some perspective, the winner – Sweden’s Simen Hjalmar Wästlund – was nearly four hours ahead of me. Nevertheless, I was delighted, particularly when I discovered that I’d finished 20^th overall and first in the V50-59 category. I still wouldn’t describe myself as an ultra runner, but I’m telling no porky pie when I state that I’ve completed an ultra run in a world championship series. Which is nice.

And if you want to contribute to my fundraising for Durham Wildlife Trust, please head along to www.justgiving.com/fundraising/ChrisJLines.

Race Rundown: Schoppingen Volkslauf 5k 

25 August 2022

by Jonathan Wallace

As many of you will know, over the last few years, a number of Harriers have travelled to Hamminkeln to take part in the CityLauf, a series of 5k and 10k races around our pretty twin town in North-West Germany. We have always been made very welcome by our hosts at Hamminkeln SV, who have also enjoyed several visits to Sedgefield to take part in the Serpentine race.

A number of us were planning to return to Hamminkeln for the first time since 2019 when the news broke that the CityLauf had been cancelled. However, one of our regular hosts, Rolf Lindau, suggested that we try an alternative race, the Schöppinger Volkslauf, which was taking place the same weekend, and so a group of us – Alda and Phil Houghton, Susan Wallace and I – decided to take on the challenge!

The race was on the Friday evening but Susan and I travelled a day early, enjoying an overnight stay in Duisburg and then visiting Duisburg’s most famous attraction, the Landschaftpark on Friday – an area previously used for coal mining and steel-making which, over the last 30 years has been transformed into a leisure park which celebrates rather than hides its industrial past.

After an interesting visit – and the obligatory Currywurst – we made the journey up to Schoppingen for the race, where we met Alda, Phil and Rolf, and made our way down to the Vechtestadion where the race was due to start.

The start time for the 5k race was a slightly unusual 17:10 -as it was nestled in among a series of other races, including a fiercely competitive junior race around a cinder track – and we were there in good time. However, in sharp contrast to our previous experiences at the CityLauf, the race was late in starting – by over half an hour! Despite the myth, not everything in Germany runs on time!

When the race got started, at about 5:45, the temperature was around 24C – quite normal for northern Germany in August (and a lot cooler than the 34C on the day we arrived) but still pretty warm to me and therefore a race where I would need to pace myself! However, I’ve never been great at sticking to a race plan, and as we set off, I saw Rolf Lindau just ahead of me, and decided on a new plan – try and stick with Rolf!

That worked quite well for the first mile… but then Rolf pulled away – and when we hit the first real incline, I fell further behind and spent the rest of the race trying to keep him in sight! Rolf finished in 21:55, which he later told us was a new PB for 5k! I obviously picked the wrong race to try and keep up with him but finished in 23:08 – well off Rolf’s pace but still a decent run out.

However, my “battle” with Rolf was only the warm-up for the main event – Houghton v Houghton! Building on his recent good running, Phil set the pace with an excellent start. However, despite protestations beforehand that she hasn’t been running well, Alda’s competitive instinct meant that she hung in for the first couple of miles, before showing a turn of pace and edging past Phil with about a mile to go. Once in front there was no stopping her and she romped home in a great time of 28:12, with Phil following shortly afterwards in a very respectable 29:16. She hadn’t realised during the race, but Alda was also First Lady – a fitting reward for a great run, which made the headlines in the local paper!

Taking part in her first event since her hip op a couple of years ago, Susan competed in the 5km walking race, finishing in third place – and ahead of some of the 5km runners, capping a successful race for the Sedgefield contingent.

After the race, we dashed back to join our friends from Hamminken SV at a BBQ. It was great to lots of familiar faces, including Hermann Terrhorst – previously the organiser of the CityLauf and a regular visitor to Sedgefield over the years. Ever since his last visit – when Pete King introduced him to darts at Coxhoe WMC – Hermann has set up his own Darts Team – the Ally Polly’s! He plans to bring his new team when he next visits Sedgefield and challenged us to a match – so we need to form a team and get some practice in!

We spent the rest of the weekend with our hosts – Thomas, Andrea, Doris and Friedel – for a cycle tour on Saturday – finishing the ride with a round of Crazy Golf (where we were comprehensively beaten by our ever-competitive German hosts, Andrea and Thomas!) before we headed to the Küpper Gasthof, a lovely old German pub / restaurant in Dingden near Hamminkeln.

Susan and I had an early start the following day – heading back to Duisburg to watch Thomas compete in a Half Ironman event at the Duisburg Sportpark. Perhaps inspired by our sporting achievements earlier in the weekend (!), Thomas rose to the occasion, completing the event in 4 hrs 58 mins and 34 seconds – well within his sub 5 hours target.

So, another great weekend in Germany, and another very warm welcome from our German friends. Hopefully we will see them all next year – in Sedgefield and in Hamminkeln.

by Elaine Noakes

Blaydon Race has been on my “to do list” since I started running in 2017 but I’ve never managed to get a place. So, when they released a few more places recently, I was over the moon to get one. Everyone has told me the atmosphere is brilliant and its worth it for the beer and ham and pease pudding sarnie at the end, although can’t say I’m a fan of pease pudding (I’m a southerner, well midlands really, and never heard of it until I moved North!!).

I was nervously excited all day. This is only my second race in a Harriers vest and I feel like a bit of an imposter, I haven’t been running as much lately so really hoped I would have a good run and my only aim was to finish and hopefully not be last. I got there early, making sure I had plenty of time for my ritual pre-race coffee and no doubt numerous loo trips I would need. I found my friends from Durham Mums, and after dropping our bags we walked over the Millennium Bridge to the Quayside where the race start has moved to. Everything I’ve been told was true, the atmosphere was buzzing and it was good to see some other harriers, I bumped into Emma Featherstone and her dad, and then Ian & Helen Hedley.

 

After getting some photos we gathered on the road, waiting for the start, which seemed to take forever. Eventually the Blaydon Races song was played and then everyone started shuffling forward, and soon we were across the start line. I started with a few friends, but we soon got separated amongst the crowds, as we ran through the streets. So many people lined the route, and it was great to hear the cheers of support.

I was conscious not to get dragged along too quickly at the start, as I really wanted to try and run as much as could without walking. I soon started to regret not bringing my water bottle with me though as it was quite muggy, and I was counting down to the water stations at the halfway point. I expected the support to dwindle as we got out of the town centre, but there were people all along the route and they spurred me on to keep running.

 

I was pleased to get the water station without walking, grabbed a cup of water, spilling half of it before drinking the rest, and then started running again. I finally seemed to settle into a rhythm and kept going, slowing for the inclines but managing to keep running. Even though I was on my own, the crowds and other runners were great in keeping me going, and there was a band which really helped too.

As we got to the first point when you turn back on yourself, I saw my friend Alison, who had shot off at the start and lost me, she was still going strong, and then I saw Helen again, who was also still going really well. That gave me another little boost, especially when the turn-around point meant another incline L. I got to about 4.5 miles and was really starting to tire, my knee and hip were starting to feel sore, I’m not used to road running so much now, as I tend to do more trail races, but I kept telling myself it’s not much further now, just try and keep running. I thought if I walked, I probably wouldn’t get going again!! There was also a steel band who were fantastic.

As we came up over a flyover, I could see another turn around point and was hoping that this would be chance to see Alison and Helen again. I missed Alison (she was still flying along) but did see Helen again which gave me another boost. I looked at my watch and had about half mile to go. As we came round past Morrison’s I was really started to flag but soon saw a 300m to go sign so I was determined not to walk now. When I got to the 100m  sign I tried to spur myself on to go a bit faster and passed a few people to the finish line, although I think I went a bit too fast as I nearly passed out when I stopped!! Thankfully I saw Alison and then Emma who looked after me until I felt a bit better.

I was pleased to get my goody bag, complete with can of beer and sandwich, and thankfully I ended up with the veggie option of a cheese sarnie so dodged the pease pudding.

Once I had recovered, I found my friend, and headed for the bus queue to go back to town for a well earned pint in BrewDog, and then had a nice walk along the quayside back to the car. The Millennium bridge looks great at night when it’s all lit up.

 

All in all, Blaydon definitely lived up to the hype. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and my time of 01:06:50 was only 2 minutes off my 10k pb, which I’m really chuffed with. I’m never going to be speedy, but I do feel a bit more comfortable wearing a Harriers vest now.

The Boston Marathon is so flat that it makes pancakes look hilly, flat fish look like sharks and flat tyres look firm and bouncy. It’s flat then. That’s one reason why I wanted to do it. Another is the look on people’s faces when I tell them that I’m doing ‘The Boston Marathon.’

It’s the look that says, ‘how did that lardy git get a qualifying time?’ Naturally, I would then explain that this is Boston in Lincolnshire, which has no qualifying time and where some 17^th Century religious dissenters started their journey, culminating in the voyage of the Mayflower and the founding of Boston Massachusetts, where, I understand, they also run a marathon on the same day but one which requires a sub 3:15 qualifying time.

It was my 61^st birthday and I wanted to mark it with about four and a half hours of running (4 hours, 37 minutes and 27 seconds to be precise), followed by a hot bath and enough beer to alarm a public health physician.

Boston is an interesting and beautiful place. The town rests on a tidal river, so there are boats and who doesn’t like boats? The ‘Boston Stump’, St Botolph’s Church, is the largest parish church in England (according to Wikipedia) and well worth a look. There are also some other fine buildings. The imposing Century Methodist Church attests to the fact that there still a dissenter tradition in Boston. Other forms of God botherer are available.

The other thing that makes it interesting is that there are two distinct populations: a white British one and an East European one. The latter picks fruit and veg in the farms that surround the town. The former voted for Brexit by about 75%. Well, probably not the farmers who depend on the East Europeans to pick the fruit and veg but I’m just guessing.

In the evening, the East Europeans, promenade around the town or play football in the lovely central park, where the marathon runners assemble. The native Bostonians seem to go to pubs adorned with the flag of St George. Other flags are also available. These are to be found on all the East European delicatessens. So, if you want to run a marathon and pick up some Polish sausage and beer (recommended) then this is the one for you.

The race is extremely well organised. Covid precautions mean assembling in the park and being led to staggered starts in the market square, where there is still a market on Wednesday and Saturday. It’s all chip timed, and you literally get your finish time text to you as you cross the line. Impressive. The route is mostly on small country lanes. It’s not traffic free but there is so little traffic, it may as well be. There are also a half-marathon and fun-run options. The half marathon starts after the marathon, which is handy if one doesn’t want to hang about too long after the show. Both end at the local college, which is a short walk back to the town centre and pubs aplenty.

At the end you get a medal and a tee-shirt. The tee shirt is a work of art… if Dadaists made race tee shirts. Nothing sums up the supreme endeavour of running a marathon as a tractor, vegetables and some random runners. At least it has a Union Jack, just to make sure that no one thinks you ran the other Boston Marathon.

The men’s race was won by William Strangeway in 2:25:11 and the ladies’ race was won by Natasha White in 2:59:07. Show offs.

By Ian Spencer.