Packed and ready for the morning the bag sits at the end of the bed. I’m feeling apprehensive. It’s a 10 mile race around the majestic coastline of Holywell Bay in north Cornwall that awaits me tomorrow and I’ve been looking forward to it for months. People tell me it’s hard. Very hard. I don’t know how it can be, compared to a road-race. I have no doubt it’ll be physically challenging, but the rewards will be so much greater than trudging along tarmac surrounded by traffic.
But I’m anxious. I haven’t run 10 miles since the end of March. I’ve been practicing a new uphill technique and my calf muscle has been killing me. I’ve done nothing but whinge about it to anyone that’ll listen. I managed an 8 mile coastal run about 2 weeks ago but could barely walk the next day, so I’ve been taking it easy. But I’m craving this sort of running, with like-minded people that just need ‘to get out there’.
I heard whispers recently of an Ultra, not a stones throw from home. It’s probably about 15 miles away down on the Lizard Peninsular. You run from The Lizard to Lands End: 44 miles. In one day. Sat here in bed I feel some excitement welling (and no, it’s got absolutely nothing to do with a person of the opposite sex! There isn’t one in my bed anyway – something else I’m good at whinging about!!). I type it into google. I find it. And I want it.
Could this be a goal, a challenge for next year? A series of coastal marathons in preparation for a 44 mile ultra… Seriously, should a middle-aged woman that took up running (rather than jogging) a mere 6 months ago, who hasn’t yet run more than 13 miles, even consider such a challenge? Is a year enough time to train for this coastal trail series, and maybe end with an ultra?
For now though, I should get some sleep. It’s almost 2am and I’ve got a race tomorrow…
By Stephie, on Sunday 28th November, 2010 at 19:34 pm
The course takes in part of the Falmouth coastline.
I had 2 inches of frozen snow on my windscreen this morning, but I diligently scraped it off. Engine running and smiling to myself, I thought “well, I’m not going to get up the lane anyway. It looks like sheet ice”. I made it to the top of the lane and out on to the main road. “Dammit, stupid car.” My hopes of getting out of the 5 mile ‘Falmouth Mob Match‘ road race due to the weather were dashed.
In fact the weather was glorious today, full sunshine, no wind, but bitterly cold. Cold enough for there to be plenty of ice on the roads. I doubted many would turn up for the run, preferring to stay tucked up in bed in the warm. Of the twelve women registered from our club only 5 showed; it was a similar story for the men. The rest of the Cornish clubs (this was the last race of the season) didn’t seem to have succumbed to the warmth of their duvets. They were out in force: the field was about 420.
The race started promptly at 11am and just to get us in the mood, our first stretch was up a lovely steep hill which turned a bend up another one. Thankfully we had a bit of respite as we headed down the next extremely steep one before running round Swanpool Lake (I’d describe it as more of a big pond!). I couldn’t help sniggering to myself when I heard other runners hoping, in desperation, that the course wouldn’t be taking them back up the hill we’d just run down. Of course it did. It was a killer and, I thought, rather aptly named ‘Cemetery Hill’ after the cemetery that runs alongside it. I felt slightly sick having run all the way to the top of it, but rather pleased with myself that I’d overtaken a few runners on the way. (Those hill repeats last Wednesday may have paid off!) We continued along the sea front and the field began to thin out a bit, most of it being ahead of me. By the time we got to the end of the ‘promenade’ the faster runners were already on their way back. It was rather freaky seeing a woman wearing nothing but a cropped top and shorts flash by at the speed of light (the temperature was zero!). In fact she’s the sort of runner I picture in my mind when I want to gee myself up a bit – I imagine I look just like her: strong, fast, making it look so easy. Imagination is a great thing, the reality is I look the complete opposite. Still, I was glad to see a few familiar faces from our club in the front group.
We carried on round up another steep hill past the docks and there was a lot of heavy breathing going around me on at this point. And still no walking for me. Just ahead of me I could see another team mate and I kept her in my sights until the last mile or so, when she dashed off too. It was rather comforting to have her there and when she was gone I felt I had to up my pace a bit – I knew I was last in for our club, but I really didn’t want it to be in an ‘embarrassing’ time! (In all honesty though, if you can run 5 miles at all, there’s nothing embarrassing about it). We ran back along the promenade to cross the finish line and I virtually fell across it in 51 minutes and a couple of seconds. Just outside my ‘hoped for’ time, and with at least 50 others behind me. So I’m well chuffed with that – almost 10 minute miles as opposed to the over 12 minute miles in the half marathons. And I thought running faster would be impossible. Just goes to show what a bit of training (ok, so very little for this race) and a lot of encouragement can do.
Now I need a shower and something hearty to eat, so I’ll say aurevoir for now, hope you had a good weekend too and will speak to you again soon
By Stephie, on Thursday 4th November, 2010 at 03:55 am
Fluorescent pink and yellow. A sea of it. And I stood in the middle of it feeling right at home. Decisions were being made: who would go with who; where and how far. I felt unsure as to where I would fit in best, so decided on the Foundation Group. For now. Test the waters so to speak, or more accurately test the road. I joined my local running club and became a paid up member last week, my third visit.
My knees are aching and my right foot is killing me. I know I should rest it, but I can’t. I just can’t. This is too important and I’ve only just begun. It’s 26 days until my first race as a member of the club. I didn’t have to enter of course. There’s no pressure to race at all. Ever, if you don’t want to. But already I feel like I’ve got something to prove. I have to prove to myself that I can improve, that I can run a 5 mile race at a ‘reasonable pace’. Whatever that is. I haven’t determined that detail yet. I just know it’s got to be faster than the 12 minute miles I did in the half marathons. A lot faster. Something that’s not embarrassing and feels respectable for someone of my advancing age and decrepitness. That’s probably not true. It should be something that would feel respectable for someone at least 20 years my junior. I picture myself taking long, confident strides, looking relaxed and comfortable, lean and healthy. The reality is that I look like I need an ambulance. I sweat buckets, my face is as fluorescent pink as my jacket (always was, is and will be); my pace varies and I falter, not knowing how to go faster (do I take longer strides, or shorter quicker ones?); I worry that my legs aren’t strong enough to get me up the hills, that my thighs are wearing the equivalent of a snow jacket in excess fat; I worry about my foot, pretty sure it’s got something to do with my shoes, and not being able to afford to replace them, worrying that I’ll cause irreparable damage if I carry on. Worrying that if I stop, I’ll cease to be.
Run outside and look around
My last two runs (8.3 miles on Sunday and 5.5 yesterday) were along the coastal path at Falmouth, a minute section of the South West Coast Path national trail. The lure of this route is the off-road section of course; the mud, tree stumps and rocky paths make it interesting underfoot and then there’s the smell of the sea, the wind (plenty), the rain (plenty) and the autumn colours. Everything people that run on trails rave about, everything that reminds me I’m alive I guess. I mean, you can’t forget that fact when your feet are killing you and you’re gasping for breath against the relentless head wind. Running the streets just isn’t the same. That said, the 5 mile race I’ve entered on the 28th November is on the road, in Falmouth. So part of the route I ran at the weekend included a bit of the course, just to see what it’s like. I lived in Falmouth for years, so I already know really. Pretty hilly sums it up. Still, there’s always the beach cafe to sojourn to (collapse in) once the race is run. I’m in training again then, for a few weeks at least. I’m trying to cover around 30 miles a week, but this time round I’m doing lots of intervals and hill training (if you don’t know what these are, just think torture) to try and increase my speed and endurance. Covering the distance at my half marathon pace feels easy now, so I’m trying to see what I can do to up the pain. Yes that’s right, in my book speed = pain. Big time.
I don’t know what it is that’s got me so focussed on running again lately, but it does remind me a lot of the challenging walking/hiking I’ve done (long distances, altitude). It’s being outside and in the landscape that’s important, I couldn’t be doing with running on a treadmill (BORING!). Seeing new things every time you go outside the front door is an incredible motivator. You never know when you’re going to be attacked by a buzzard or chased by bullocks, see an incredible sunset or thunderstorm. There’s always something to notice, whether it’s the tiny fleck of shining quartz in the granite rocks, the emerald green colour of the sea or the sound of your feet running through mud. At the moment it’s this hope for something new that’s keeping me sane.
By Stephie, on Monday 1st November, 2010 at 02:32 am
Towards Falmouth - and the clouds drift by...
Oh me oh my. It’s been almost three weeks. Three very long weeks without a computer. I felt like I’d lost my right arm…
I don’t know where to begin today, except to say hello and that I’ve missed you all very much. My beloved Macbook had a funny turn and needed a new hard-drive. The third one in its relatively short life. Unusual for a Mac, but despite the traumas I still wouldn’t go back to a PC. No, instead I’m going to spend what for me is a small fortune on an upgrade to the latest OS, iWork and iLife, and at a later date another gig of RAM. I just hope this new hard-drive can keep it together until then…
I wonder what you’ve been up to over the last few weeks? I can barely remember what I’ve been doing, though I recollect a lot of ruminating and soul searching. And depression. Depression that isn’t Mac related I have to point out. It’s the other sort that’s been dragging me down. Again. Walking in treacle they say. More like drowning in it if you ask me. I’ve been trying to do things, keep moving, keep getting out of bed, but I look back and I can’t see anything that I’ve actually done, achieved, completed. The house is a tip, the garden is overgrown, the allotment is undug, onions not planted, gloves knitted and unknitted, a quilt unfinished, ignoring the pain in my knees and ankles just to keep running, keep going, keep alive. Look for the beauty I tell myself, stay in the moment. But moments pass, fleeting and misty. But I still look. Hoping.
I think I’ll try and get back into the blogging groove by showing you some of the things I’ve looked at over the last couple of weeks. They’re significant to me, but generally it’s not the looking that’s kept me going, it’s the people; the close and supportive friends, the ones that give you a hug for no reason, other than they seem to know you need one, and the new friends from afar that you feel you know already
Out for a run. Looking at the textures.
And contrasts.
Remembering the sheep in the snow.
Grateful for the escape. And knowing they're loved.
Well now, this was a killer, but oh so worth the rewards. My limbs were a bit achey from Tuesday’s foray into road running, but I ignored that inconvenient truth and headed for the rocky cliffs of the north Cornwall coast in the UK. The wind was blowing an arctic gale that morning but I felt determined to brave the elements and push myself a bit. I donned my sensible running clothes (see last 2 posts!), hat and ipod and off I went.
The first part of this 3m run is up a fairly steep cliff
I made it 1.5m to Porthtowan, but I have to admit some of the very steep parts of the cliff path became a real slog and I had to walk up those! I cursed my aching limbs. At this point I did a (planned) u-turn and ran back.
I keep forgetting to stretch after a run, so I decided to go down to Chapel Porth beach and do some stretching there, before getting in the car and heading back home (3m or so). That cliff is the first (and last) part of the run, you can see how steep it is!
But I was distracted by something that had been washed up on the beach.
It had a surreal beauty that I found completely fascinating.
I poked and prodded it
I smelt it
I inspected it
I marvelled at the structure of it
I stared in awe at the scale of it
I wished I could take something home of it.
This beautiful fin whale, 2nd largest mammal on earth, washed up on my local shore, was a wonder I would never expect to surpass on any other run.
I took a day off from running yesterday, not intentional I just kind of run out of time, but I went for a good walk, which compensated a bit. My plans for today are another road run, around 3 miles or so. Taking it easy at the moment, edging myself back into it before any serious training regimes are thought about…
By Stephie, on Friday 30th October, 2009 at 02:52 am
I had no plan to walk today, but when I woke up and saw that the day looked mild and sometimes sunny I knew I had to head out. Actually I have Bec Thomas to thank for the idea. She’s off on a photo hike in Washington (US not Lincolnshire!) up Mt Pilchuck, and it made me very nostalgic for some mountain hiking myself. But in the absence of any mountains around here, that ain’t gonna happen in a hurry! The next best thing in this part of the world is the rocky coastline of the north Cornish coast. While snowy Mount Pilchuck may have an elevation of a fantastic 1,628m and St Agnes Beacon a paltry 192m, it still gives a breathtaking 360 degree view from the trig point on the top! Not to be sniffed at.
I started my walk near Wheal Coates (OS 104 SW703500) above Chapel Porth and headed east along the coast to St Agnes Head where I sat and sketched for a while. There were a lot of people out – something to do with the half-term holidays I guess. The next stretch was eerily quiet though, which I loved. I watched the black backed gulls and finches and listened to the waves crashing below as I marched along at a brisk pace. By the time I got to Trevaunance Cove (approx 3 miles from the start), there were a lot more people about – some nutters even surfing! From here I made my way up to St Agnes village, for the most tasty ricotta and spinach slice I’ve ever tasted, and then on up The beacon to take in the misty panorama before heading back down to the car and home. Sometimes I forget just how much of a passion for walking I have. Note to self: do more.
Come along the path with me
and marvel at the autumn bracken.
Look over the russet fronds towards Perranporth
and take in the wow factor of lichen on the rocks at Trevaunance Cove
where we can stack it up
before we pass the ageing beauty of an old telephone box
and climb a hill to catch a last view of the Cove
We'll cross the fields to The Beacon rising on the horizon
and we'll catch our last burst of surreal colour in this muted landscape: an anonymous dahlia memorial.
