A Chilled Glass Of Pinot

Today I do my 8^th Nottingham Robin Hood Half Marathon, L is doing it too. I’m not sure how many times that is now for her but it’s way more than eight. It’s L’s sister’s second time and we meet her at Nottingham University before getting the tram to the start which involves changing lines at the railway station. Oh, and it’s raining.

Thankfully the weather does improve and the rain largely holds off for the race but soaks us afterwards.

This year the course has been tweaked slightly and the start moved further back but I’m not too sure what this is to accommodate. I line up in the ‘red’ zone as usual, hoping for something around about 1:45. My fastest Nottingham Half was my first one back in 2010 when I ran 1:36:22. This is actually also my overall half marathon PB that I have little or no chance of getting near these days.

I fix my eye on the 1:45 pacer and then off we go. Unfortunately he turns out to be a nutter, setting out way too fast over the hilly first few miles. On my reckoning he is up on his pace by a couple of minutes after three miles when he should probably be slightly down at this point and intending to make it up on the flatter parts of the course.

At the first drinks station somebody hands me a bottle of water and I’m like ‘YES, it’s in  a bottle’. It is so good to finally see the back of the dreaded water pouches.

Despite the breakneck pace set by my pacer I just about cling onto his shirt tails until I start to lose touch as he fleetfootedly, and inexplicably, skips through the congestion caused by the narrow sections in Wollaton Park. It's as if he’s trying to lose his flock. Perhaps he is.

Coming out of Wollaton Park I see Daughter at the 7 mile point and inflict a sweaty hug on her before renewing my pursuit of my pacer before finally giving up the chase a few miles further down the road.

As we get to the last mile the excellent Race Angels, provided by Notts Womens Runners, are on hand to help you get through that final mile but they seem to show no inclination in helping an old man break 1:45. I gather I am not their target audience.

Rumours of them handing out chilled glasses of Pinot as part of the service also appear not to be true. Which is a shame, as it would be one up on the Great North Run Beer Stop.

Then I’m at the 13 mile marker and into the last few hundred metres which is on the grass and was a bit like cross-country running. I slither across the line in 1:47:14. It would have been oh so different if I'd had that Pinot.

Sadly after two years of handing out t-shirt to all finishers the organisers have again reverted to not having one which is very poor. The post-race snacks, in common with other big races, were also very poor.

What is good at Nottingham are the massages. Once again Sheffield Hallam University provide a girl for each leg (or a guy if you prefer). Great North Run take note of that and also that they have a least double the number of massage tables you did for a field about an eighth of the size.

In the evening we go for a night in the Crafty Crow, where we haven’t been for quite a while, but they have no dark cask ales but plenty of Pinot. So we adjourn to the Borlase.

(Sunday 29^th September)

Off The Pace

The clocks go back this morning so this gives us an extra hour in bed to mentally prepare ourselves or otherwise for today’s Sheffield 10k. This is a different Sheffield 10k to the Great Run organised one and is run by Run For All, they of the Jane Tomlinson Foundation, and it’s sponsored by Asda.

These folk also organised the Sheffield Half which I ran earlier this year and the course takes the same route out along Ecclesall Road but then instead of disappearing up a big hill into the Peak District it skirts around Endcliffe Park before return back along Ecclesall Road.

Despite the omission of the ‘Peak District’ this is still a seriously undulating route and a real challenge. Although the biggest challenge of all is keeping up with the 45 min pacer which shouldn’t really have been a problem for me considering my current form.

The pacer, however, sticks to his 4:30 per km pace with metronomic precision even on the kilometres that are completely uphill. This means that his initial group of around 30 runners is gradually reduced attritionally to, well, probably nothing. I'm guessing here as I hung on longer than most but couldn’t stay the distance either.

The inverse of this is that when the course starts heading downhill later on he is hamstrung by his 4:30 pace meaning most of us catch him and pass him. I finish in 44:55, so who needs dodgy pacers. Perhaps we should have paced him?

After I have finished, I notice there is no queue at the massage tent which is a rare thing indeed. I quickly go and get my rucksack back from the baggage area, which works seamlessly this time, then I sign up for a session on my calves. I must say that I get outstanding service from Sheffield Hallam’s physiotherapy department who supply a girl for each leg and it’s well worth the £2 charity donation I give them.

Just a word for the goodie bag which was excellent and weighed down with snackie things.

On the way home we detour via Kennelgate where we attempt to solve the ‘can’t see the dog ball in the dark problem’ without success. They don’t have either a flashing or glow in the dark dog ball. 

Then we head off to Leamington for meet Son and his gf for a meal in the White Horse. I like the Horse but their food menu veers annoyingly from arty to burgery without having much in between. The saving grace is always their Sunday lunches but we are told today that they have none left.

Son tells us he is handing in his notice at his job. That'll keep L busy. Now she will be busy job hunting for both Son and Daughter.

(Sunday 30^th October)

Floodlit Dogging

The creaking old body isn’t too stiff today despite yesterday’s run but then I was provided with an excellent massage this morning.

It’s a glorious sunny day, perfect for a spot of dogging. Unfortunately it will be dark by the time we get there. Darkness may suit some types of dogging but not ours and we do have floodlights. 

(Monday 28^th September)

Pedalling Too Slowly

Today it’s Life Cycle 5 which is a low budget Cycle Sportive running from Nottingham University and in aid of dementia research. There are two road routes, a 75 miler and a 50 miler. I do the 50 which heads out westward to the north of Derby before heading back.

I am on the front row when we start and end up being in the lead for quite a while as others decide to pedal slowly. Then a guy who has been shadowing me decides I’m also pedalling far too slowly and leaves me for dust. I’m also one of only a few making use of the two feed stations, a lot choose not to stop at all. Personally I can’t pass up on a complimentary flapjack.

L comes to meet me as I cross the line in 3 hours 12 minutes, which is not really the sort of pace I was looking for pre-Vitruvian next week. Then again it was hilly but then so is the Vitruvian.

I have a novel post-ride massage with one masseur on each leg, which is great idea except they are both doing totally different things to me at the same time. So I may walk oddly afterwards.

We do considering sitting outside the pub formerly known as The Willougby and having Sunday lunch, that is until it rains.

(Sunday 23rd August)