Twenty Four Hours In The Sun

Last year L and I did the Thunder Run as part of a team of eight and the team as a whole managed 21 laps of the 10k course which worked out at three or less each. This year we attempted it again but with a team of five, which hopefully should get us at least four laps each.

If that wasn’t enough of an epic challenge, we hadn’t reckoned on the weather. I kicked the team off with the opening lap at midday with an impressive 48:27 but then four hours later it started to rain and kept raining through to about 7am the following morning. Summer? Summer in the UK always has been merely a notional period on the calendar rather than an actual indicator of nice weather.

Consequently the off road course because an absolute quagmire becoming not just a stern physical challenge but also a test of mental toughness. I loved it and thought this new, unexpected, side to it merely added to the enjoyment. However most people seemed to disagree with me.

Last year both L and I went into the event with questionable fitness, this year I’m possibly in as good as shape as I could be on the back of two 70.3 triathlons. L however has been advised by practically every doctor and physio on the planet to stay at home, so naturally here she is and fully intending to do her four laps.

As I headed out for my second lap at around 5:20pm, I felt that I had the right footwear for the necessary mud skiing that a lap now mostly involved and my time of 51:23 perhaps confirmed this.

As before we fuelled ourselves with ham and cheese rolls and pasta.

At around 11:30pm I’m off on my third lap where I did take one tumble, somewhere between the 8km and 9km points, when I misjudged the slope of the hill I was running across in the dark. After sliding for half a mile or so, I picked myself up, brushed the smidgen of mud off my clothes and carried on. Sadly this ruined my time a touch but I still got in under the hour with a 59:32.

The organisers were having a few problems too, as the weather took out the generator for a while overnight and the marshals had to hold the inflatable start line up while it was fixed. They didn’t seem to mind, the general camaraderie or should that be the Dunkirk spirit between everyone was great. Which included a couple who got married on Saturday morning and then shared their on course wedding reception with all of us.

After grabbing a few hours sleep, I ran my fourth and final lap at 06:45am. By now the rain had eased, not that that made any difference to the conditions underfoot and my time was a slightly disappointing 61:15.

I did offer to do L’s fourth lap for her, which would have been my fifth but she was having none of it. I hope she doesn’t regret that tomorrow. So I head to the Bus Bar to grab a pint and watch her slither home.

We have one more runner to go after L then we’re done. Only 19 laps this year, I suppose we have to blame the weather for that.

There was only blot on the event (unless you count the rain as a blot) and that was the range of Ladies fit T shirts that none of the girls could get into. So only the lads will be in the pub tonight wearing their swanky green race t-shirts. I’m sure they’ll sort out replacements post-race.

Afterwards I pop to the site of next week’s dog show, which is only next door, to see what state the weather has left things in there, not bad as it happens. Then we drop in at my parents before a night out at the Crafty Crow followed by a curry at The Laguna.

(Saturday 22^nd July/Sunday 23^rd July)

Gentle Manoeuvres

Today the boys and I are at Just Dogs Live at the Peterborough's East of England Showground. I have to be careful not to aggravated my fellow athlete’s (MD) thigh or else L will put him back on gentle manoeuvres. That wouldn’t do as we have Crufts Team next week. We have already qualified but we need the practice.

Today he’s jumping well, weaving not so well but I don’t think that was injury related. In fact, our first two runs were pretty decent apart from the weaves in both.

Then we record a very nice clear round, including perfect weaves, to finish the day. We finish 2^nd and take some notable scalps.The only downside is waiting ages for the rosette and trophy. Yes, we get a trophy as well and a bag of dog food.

In the evening, L and I spend all night in Crafty Crow.

(Saturday 8^th July)

Eight Seconds

So today I return to Holme Pierrepont for my third Outlaw Half in four years, having taken last year off. After being slightly injured in 2015, and desperately trying to not get more seriously injured so that I could do the Ramathon the following weekend, I recorded a slow-ish 6:07 that year.

This year I feel in much better shape, so it’s chance to get back under six hours and hopefully somewhere close to my 2014 time of 5:52.

The 1.9km swim immediately dashes my hopes of a new PB. With a time of 46:27, that’s over seven minutes off 2014 and three off 2015. So a PB isn’t going to happen. Unhelpfully they have also moved the swim exit this year which means there’s quite a long run to transition on tarmac, which has shades of last year’s Leeds ITU debacle. Can we have some matting please for next year.

The bike is better, much better, although I still can’t get it under three hours. My bike time for the 90km is 3:04:17, better than last time but just behind 2014. It would probably have been a PB had I not gone wrong in the final km and overshot the turn into Holme Pierrepont Hall with the help of some inefficient marshalling.

So to the run and that is where I do nail it. My 2:01:20 half marathon is better than both previous years and even two minutes up on my uninjured efforts in 2014. Yet still I pace it a touch wrong as I come in an agonising eight seconds over six hours.

EIGHT seconds. OMG. I blame that marshal, I mean I blame myself for overshooting, and that lengthened run in from the swim can’t have helped either. Oh well, there’s always near year. Did I really say that? I better not have done. It is an amazingly well put together event, better than any of the other 70.3s I’ve done but I must focus elsewhere next year.

The post-race rubdown is gratefully received along with the lashings of Erdinger Alkoholfrei, then it’s off for the post-race food which is posher than ever.

Throughout L and the boys offered outstanding and vocal support as ever while my Dad is also there to catch the run.

In the evening we head to the Crafty Crow for some recovery drinks but it’s not that great in there this week so we head across to the Trip To Jerusalem, where we haven’t been for a while, and they have some cracking dark beers on. Then we pick up a takeaway from the Park Tandoori, the four legged supporters deserve a recovery naan.

Not On It

Another dog show today and back at Catton again. This time we don’t have the best of starts and he misses his dog walk contact.

His contacts are perfect in our second run but we get a refusal on one jump. Hmmm. Then another refusal on our third course, so one of us is clearly not on it today. He’s probably all Catton-ed out, we both are and its only May.

Finally, we get a clear round on our last run of the day but we are outside the rosettes. Then I pop in to see my parents on the way home. Well the dogs do, I’m just the chauffeur.At least the chauffeur gets a biscuit this time.

Today would have been L's 90th Parkrun but... sadly, instead she’s giving crochet lessons to Daughter. She’ll be back on it soon.

She also been shopping and, apparently, I’ve bought her a dress. I’m good like that, I just hope I have good taste. Not that L will keep it, she’ll bring it home and decide she doesn’t like it...

We spend the evening in the Crafty Crow.

(Saturday 13^th May)

Final Fortnight

This morning we run the usual parkrun at Forest Rec and then in the evening we have a night out with some friends we haven’t seen for a couple of millennia.

It seems fitting to meet them in the Crafty Crow, which we also haven’t frequented for aeons, and where Charrington Oatmeal Stout becomes number 176 on my dark beer trail which is now into its final fortnight. So, I’m probably not going to quite reach the double century.

Then we eat in the Calcutta Club, just around the corner on Maid Marion Way. It’s a good meal and an excellent night out is completed with our usual pub crawl up Derby Road. We grab one just before they close in the Room With A Brew before finishing up in the Blue Monkey. I hope our friends made it home ok because I think we were all feeling a bit sloshed by the end of the evening.

(Saturday 15^th April)

A Nearly But Not Quite Award Winning Collie

L parkruns, of course. Although her time was about a minute down on her recent times, which is odd as I thought we’d got the preparation bang on last night. Obviously we shouldn’t have skipped the takeaway and the brandy.

I’m at Catton Hall for a dog show. CLEAR ROUND. Yesssssssssss. About time. No clear rounds out of nine last week. Then three out of five this week and a second place finish. We have an awarding winning collie in the house tonight. Correction, a nearly but not quite award winning collie. We’re almost even speaking.

L is in Sheffield visiting Daughter and we meet up later when she gets back into Nottingham, ending up in the Crafty Crow.

(Saturday 20^th June)

A Risky Fifth

Its bank holiday Monday and we’re at Shrewsbury dog show, even L is with us. This is the first time this show has extended over the weekend into Monday and entries numbers are low for the extra day. Subsequently we are finished by lunchtime.

MD performs very well, we get a clear round and 2^nd place on one course. We would have got a second 2^nd if I hadn’t rushed him and he felled a pole. As is tradition, one run is an absolute stinker but then we get another crack in the ring where he felled the pole. The end of the course is identical and this time we are clear but a minor mid-course disagreement leaves us out the rosettes.

We head home and catch up with some bed time.Then later we head out for two pints in Crafty Crow and then two more in the Hand and Heart. By now it has started raining and with twenty minutes until the bus we go for a risky fifth in the Ropewalk, purely to wait for the bus in there out of the rain you understand. This turns out to be the best pint of the night, a stout. I think our heads will regret it later.

(Monday 4^th May)

Head Down Into The Wind

Today is the day, the Dambuster Duathlon which takes place amid challenging, windy conditions. I am almost fit for it. I feel that if I’d had another week the Achilles might be fully recovered but as it isn’t it’s all about surviving the initial 10k run. So its head down and go into the wind coming off the reservoir.

This is a qualifier for the ITU World Championships and I think this has cut the numbers a touch. Clearly some are not up for it. So this year we have three waves rather than four and they’ve also closed the start times up. Meaning I now start with the oldies and the women start just five minutes behind me rather than twenty minutes last year. I’m going to get overtaken a lot. The first woman passed me on the bike last year, they’ll pass me on the run this time.

I can't even keep pace with the person in the 'fat lad at the back' t-shirt. I hasten to add that although he is indeed a lad, he is neither at the back nor fat. I'm also very surprised you can get those t-shirts in Extra Small.

I safely negotiate the run without further injury and my 48:20 is only slightly slower than last year when I was also protecting an injury. I follow 'fat lad' in to transition but then don't see him for dust on the bike. The bike nicely takes the weight off the Achilles but it’s far from easy given that the first nine miles are always hilly but today are straight into the wind.

At times I thought I was going to start rolling backwards such was the painfully slow progress on those first nine miles in to a strong headwind. It was windy last year but not like this.

Once those initial nine are out of the way the remaining sixteen are much easier and sometimes even wind assisted. 01:34:49 is slightly slower than last year but that was the winds fault.

The final run is a battle, a painful battle, which I know means I won’t be walking normally for a while but 26:30 means I get the job done in 2:52:37. I think I enjoyed that.

A corking 280th place. I have earned the t-shirt, the pint of alcohol free lager and the massive flapjack thing that you could feed a family of five for a week on.

We head home, then I get the bus to the match where Derby annihilate Birmingham, scoring twice and not allowing them a single shot on goal in the entire ninety minutes. Unfortunately they then allow them two in the six minutes of injury time, one a penalty, and it finishes 2-2. Points thrown away again.

Afterwards I attempt to meet L in Barrel Drop but it is too full, we limp off to the Crafty Crow instead. Then to Broadway for food and a film.

Still Alice is based on Lisa Genova's 2007 novel and it tells the story of Dr Alice Howland (Julianne Moore), a linguistics professor at Columbia University who is diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimer's disease at the age of just 50. 

When Alice starts to forget certain words, she meets with her doctor and is given the terrible news. Gaining such detailed knowledge of your eventual demise can’t be much fun.

The film deals with things mostly from Alice’s point of view. At first, she tries to carry on as normal but she is soon released from her teaching job. While she still can, she gives a speech on Alzheimer following the words with a highlighter. She also leaves a video for herself with instructions on how to take her own life when things get really bad.

Soon though her disease progresses, she gets lost whilst jogging and is unable to remember where the bathroom is. Executing her suicide plan also doesn’t work out, in what is probably the film’s best scene.

If Alice mostly gets on with her life, then so do her family. While hysteria would not have been welcome, it’s all a bit too deadpan at times. 

For her husband (Alec Baldwin), Alice’s diagnosis comes at a time when he is pursuing a plum new job in Minnesota. He doesn’t seem the loving type anyway but her diagnosis doesn’t seem to soften him much and he spends little time with his ill wife.

Their three grown up children, more understandably, also get on with their own lives even when finding out that the disease is of a rare, hereditary kind. Her eldest, the tightly-wound and pregnant Anna (Kate Bosworth) finds she has the gene but their son doesn’t. Their youngest daughter, the slightly wayward Lydia (Kristen Stewart), doesn’t want to know. Alice is not happy that Lydia is putting acting ahead of a college education. Yet it is this wayward daughter who eventually volunteers to take care of her.

The film is Oscar bait for sure and Moore did win. She is excellent as are many of the cast but the film itself is a little underwhelming.

(Saturday 7^th March)