King Of The Hill

Today I’m entered in the Sheffield Half Marathon, which is one of my favourite races, and I intend to run it despite suffering with a locked up calf as recently as Monday. I’ve had the emergency massage and plenty of rest (well five days), now it’s just a question of crossing the fingers and winging it. If it goes wrong it doesn’t really matter as I don’t have any other imminent races in the diary.

I don’t wing it very far. In fact, the more I warm up the tighter the calf gets. It would probably be sensible to have pulled out then but that’s not really my style.

When the start is delayed, this simply gives me more time to warm up and to hopefully run off the problem or to make it worse. I’ve never been able to run it off before and at Nairn the full 13.1 miles didn't shift it. Today is no exception. 

So by the time we start my calf is well and truly seized up but I give it a go anyway. Drawing on the experience from Nairn, I decide to see if I can hobble the first mile. When I’ve got that far I decide to try and hobble as far at the end of Ecclesall Road where the climbing starts. I get that far and then think, why not see how it is on the hill, you know the four mile long hill. So I do and so on. It’s amazing what you can achieve.

I’m actually rather good at hobbling and it doesn’t actually get any worse until about the 12 mile point, when it gets really sore, but then there’s only a mile to go...

So I made it round but obviously it wasn’t quick but as I say this is one of my favourite races. See you next year.

(Sunday 8^th April) 

Unseasonal Yorkshire Weather

I do like the Sheffield Half Marathon and I did like the old course but there is something rather beautifully masochistic about the course change they introduced three years ago when Run For All, the legacy organisation for the late Jane Tomlinson, got involved and decided to embrace Sheffield’s inner hilliness.

It’s possibly the way they quietly ratchet up the intensity as they take you out of the city along Arundel Gate and onto the long stretch that is Ecclesall Road, which all takes place on a slight incline. Then the slight gets less slight and much more significant as the road rises skywards, getting gradually steeper and steeper. Until by mile four you are on your hands and knees crawling up the one mile stretch that they call the 'King\Queen of the Hill' before eventually you can kiss the tarmac at the top of Ringinglow. From where you look forward to plummeting down... the scenic flat bit.

Allegedly, after the scenic flat bit, it’s all downhill to the finish, only it isn’t. It remains frustrating undulating and deliciously painful right up to the finish line.

Plus there is an additional nuisance factor this year, a dose of very unseasonal Yorkshire weather. Obviously in Sheffield in April you expect wind, rain and maybe hail or possibly snow, or all four at once but this year Sheffield is struck by a heat wave which really wasn’t that welcome.

I survive though and cross the finish line where I am bested by last year’s time by a three mere seconds but you still can’t beat it as a location for your Sunday morning jog and they’ve even given us a wearable t-shirt this year.

My only wish is that they would put as much effort into the mile markers as they do the km markers that map out the last 10k, for which there is an additional prize. These are all nice sail banners whereas the thirteen mile markers appear to be an assorted collection of whatever was lying around at the back of the race director’s garage.

Once I have been reunited with my legs, I head off to track down L who is now touring the country by Puregym as well as by Parkrun and has been checking out the Sheffield branch.

Unfortunately there’s no time for a rehydrating beer in Sheffield, that will come later, as I have my White Van Man booked for 2.30pm to move Daughter’s big stuff and anyway, I will need my wits about me to put her bed back together.

I suppose I do have a rehydrating beer because they are handing out the Erdinger AF. Do they ever actually sell any of that? It’s an acquired taste anyway as you can see from how much of the stuff gets donated to the local tramps.

After we’ve moved Daughter’s stuff, L and I crash out (well I do) for the evening in the Horse & Jockey in Stapleford.

(Sunday 9^th April)

Injuries With Benefits

It’s bloody windy on the bike this morning, constantly in my face all the way. My legs have disowned me.

L comes back from physio requesting golf balls. I don’t think we have any but I’m sure we could get hold of some, what with having a golf club at the end of the road. Massage with a golf ball just sounds evil.

In contrast to her previous physio, this one has been banned her from running. L's only got two half marathons, two 10Ks, a triathlon, the Tour de Yorkshire and a 24-hour endurance race booked and paid for. Which, obviously, she’ll now try and do without the physio noticing. Although I’m sure they’ve dealt with people who have been trying to hide a heavier schedule than that.

She is still undecided on Sheffield but says she won't run tonight, won't do a Parkrun on Saturday and do I fancy a lie-in instead? Now we're talking. Injuries do have their benefits.

I’d almost promised MD a parkrun but I’m sure he’d go with the flow and I’m not sure a pre-Sheffield parkrun would do me any good anyway. I’m uninjured at the moment although I intend to try some sort of gentle run tomorrow which could change that.

Rather than Kettlebells, L walks MD up to squash while I take Doggo in the car. Our first squash game since early January is a pleasant surprise in that I win 3-2 and win quite easily. 

(Thursday 7^th April)

British Bulldog In The Pool

The Sheffield Half has a new route and it’s a hilly one. How refreshing! Perhaps everyone else is as bored with ‘fast and flat’ as I am. I’m tempted to enter.

It’s just a shame it’s now called the Yorkshire Half. Personally I can’t see how calling it that helps promote Sheffield.

Dogging is off again, no great surprise there. So I shall swim, cook and then I may even hang some curtains... as I now have something to put on the new rails I put up on Sunday.

The pool is absolutely heaving with almost everyone trying to do lengths but with only two of the lanes in, it’s more like a game of British Bulldog, trying not to get tangled up with someone coming the other way.

It’s probably almost as violent as L’s evening, which she spends boxing and sharing a punch bag with a bloke. Sounds like just the sort of workout she needed.

(Monday 16^th February)