Race Review: The Pennine Lancashire 10k in Burnley Sunday June 2nd 2013

After the disaster at the Hull 10k a couple of weeks ago that resulted in a shortened course, I was looking forward to my first racing 10k of the year. Sadly, once again, I was involved in a race against time with the lingering chest infection. At this point the council had come to remove the bags of cement from my chest, but they'd left a bit of mess on the road behind that still needed clearing up.
On the Wednesday before, I went for my, hopefully-to-become-regular, run around the Chevin with Horsforth Fellandale.  I became aware of the starter's pistol going off and I dropped in to step along side Mr Chest Infection. 8km and a couple of hundred metres of elevation later and it was neck and neck. Would I be in front come race time on Sunday?

Friday night found me in Hull at the KC stadium watching Hull FC trounce Leeds Rhinos despite taking their collective feet off the accelerator in the second half. I hoped it wasn't an omen. As I was in Hull on Saturday I picked up my running buddy, Dom, from his flat instead of Leeds' station.

Travelling down the M62 we were free to analyse our running in minute detail in a way that would bore the pants off almost anyone else in our circle. We ran over scenarios for the race and talked about how our training had been going and how we felt coming in to the race. Turns out Dom hadn't been running in a week due to a trip to London and a few other things. A niggling plantar problem is curtailing his trojan spirit only slightly.

Back in Leeds we decided to head for a gentle jog down the canal so Dom could remind his muscles they were required for running and to keep me moving. Having not run for a week, Dom was raring to go. I tried to keep him sane, but no dice, at one point we put in a 4:18 kilometre. I found myself wishing I'd brought a pair of baby reins for him. My lungs didn't hurt on the run for the first time in weeks. Definitely a good sign and I began to feel optimistic about the race to come.

Saturday evening and I decided to cook my famous pasta (The non-secret-secret ingredient being chicken stock) which went down well, rather than a trip to the pub. Then we decided to look up the race route to gauge how difficult/easy it would be.

The Burnley route. Twisty turny, huh?

Typical for a Jane Tomlinson race there was no elevation information on their website, but a quick google revealed that some helpful soul had posted the route on mapmyrun. Going by this, the first 5.6km would be a gentle-ish up hill, then the rest of the race would be downhill. The whole route was twisty with a lot of sharp bends built in. We discovered during the race, that though the mapmyrun route was correct, it started and finished it in a different place to the official race, meaning our info wasn't quite right....

This is the info from my GPS. Not terribly accurate but it shows it's far from flat!

As is the tradition on race day, being the giant Muppet I am,  I forgot something important; this time it was my wallet. As I had no petrol and we were already 10 minutes from home when I pulled in to fuel up, it was a good job Dom had some money on him.

We parked up in a municipal car park only a 1 minute walk from the race village. The parking in Burnley is free on Sundays and this is always enough to put a true Yorkshireman like me in a good mood and start a feel-good factor. Even better, I found some perfect "toilet facilities" just next to the car park where someone had been dropping all this year's grass cuttings. No queuing for loos and a totally private spot. Ace!

The race village was the usual efficient and friendly Jane Tomlinson style. No queues for the bag drop; they really have got that one right. Dom got his number at the info desk in no time (He had signed up too late for them to send him one) then came and found me at the bag drop before he joined in with the race day Muppetry tradition. He had left his timing strip in the envelope at the info desk. Luckily it was still there when he went back.

Off we went to find the race start. On a short street that turned out to be at a 90 degree angle from the actual start line we found the cordon markers for sub 35, sub 40 and sub 45 randomly attached to some lamp posts. So they weren't going to even pay lip service this time. I we just had to hope there weren't going to be 50 corporate fun runners wedged in right at the front (There weren't)
Then it got a little confusing. We walked up the side of Mount Everest to the the start (Ok, it wasn't that steep) under the start banner and across timing mats.......what's this about? Then it became clear, the start cordon went up the hill, turned 180 degrees then back again. The start was downhill, not what we had been expecting. We hopped the barriers and settled in near the front. 1141 runners lined up.

At the front were a small bunch of serious-looking club runners. Dom eyed up his competition, he wanted a top 10 finish. Me, I just wanted to get around somewhere close to my PB to have a good starting point for the season.

Then a moment of comic relief. As we waited for the race to start, whilst the local DJ's tried desperately to engage the crowd, a figure appeared at the bottom of the hill being escorted up to the race start.
Whilst not wanting to drop in to stereotypes, we assumed, correctly as it turned out, that this was the winner.
He looked like the type of tall, lean Kenyan that wipes the floor with everyone else at race meets all around the world. The crowd couldn't help but laugh. Uh oh, here comes a ringer! Wonder who is going to come second? I turned to Dom- Won't it be funny if actually, he's a 50 minute runner and we all blast past him from the start?

We didn't.

Also, he turned out to be from a Salford running club.

One of race MC/Local DJ's was a very pretty girl with her shirt tied in a knot at her waist in a cow-girl stylee. "Come on!! Are you up for it?!" She yelled. I bit my tongue hard as I really wanted to shout:
"Yes love, but I've got a race to run, maybe later?"  The trouble I could get myself in to if the small filter in my head ever broke.

The race set off smack on time and we all careered down the hill, through the small city centre and soon in to Thomson park. The first kilometre flashed by in 3:36. I had needed to take advantage of the first 50m of the course being down hill, and I had. But now the hills cut in. Coming up to 2k we disappeared through a wall with the first of many sharp bends. At this point I could still see the leader but it would be the last time I would. The route was now on to a good solid trail.

The "tactics" Dom and I had discussed were pretty basic- Get to 5.6km in one piece (The end of the uphill bit) then murder the rest of the course as it was all down hill. At that point, of course, we didn't know that we had the elevation info slightly wrong.

The route twisted uphill through beautiful woodland and as per usual, I drifted in to a different world so my memory of it is sketchy. I kept glancing at my GPS watch willing 5.6km to come. I popped back to reality as we rounded a corner and were staring down at least 500m of very steep downwards hill. It was a perfect,  wide tarmac path. At last- the down hill bit!

Concentrate.....relax.....let gravity take you.......catch up on your breath whilst moving as quickly as possible.

I had reached the down hill section averaging 4:04 minutes per kilometre, it would take a monumental effort to bring that down to 3:55 to break my PB and I doubted that I had it in me.

I flew down the hill, the runner on my shoulder disappeared behind me and the one in front was quickly reeled in and he disappeared too. I resisted the urge to shout "Free speed!!" as I passed him. My friend Debi informed me that that was from Scott Jurek's excellent book. Odd that my mind had remembered the phrase and told me it was my own even though I had read the book only a couple of months ago.

At the bottom of the hill my average had come down to 4:02. It wasn't enough. Was there enough down hill left and enough left in me to keep dropping the average? The plan to catch my breath down the hill had only partly worked.

At the bottom of the hill was another sharp bend and a fair crowd had gathered. After the incredible crowd response in Manchester I decided to try again.

"Give us a shout out Burnley!!"

There was a pause. The pause was too long. I could hear the crowd thinking "Errrrm, guess we'd better not let him look like a prick"

Then there was a small half hearted cheer.

I looked a prick.

Ah well.

The 6km marker passed and unhelpfully my multiple personality syndrome kicked in and "Evil Me" had a word. "You're knackered" she said, "Walk now. You're not going to beat your PB. Walk"

Urgh. P'soff.

Now I was just trying to maintain the pace, just trying to hang in and not slow down. The next kilometre was a horrible struggle with my mind and body. And then......

Up spoke "Good Me". I see a lot of memes on facebook about running, and this week you might be aware that there has been a lot of stuff about, and from, the iconic Steve Prefontaine, it being 38 years since his untimely death. "Good Me" reminded me of a Pre quote; and I paraphrase: "I don't run to see who is the fastest, I run to see who has the most guts"

So. How much guts you got fat boy? How much?

It was enough to keep me going.

The runner I had over taken down the hill was obviously a local favourite with lots of support spotted around the course. There were a lot of shouts of, "Come on Richard!!" He was racing me, using me the way Dom does to get a good time. I wish my brain would think that way, but it doesn't. I didn't have it in me to race him. I was too tired. I knew I couldn't get my PB and I honestly don't care who beats me. (Well ok, I really didn't want the guy in the cotton t shirt with the board shorts on to beat me. Thankfully he faded badly fairly early in the race)  I knew Richard would reel me in and what's more, I didn't care.

About 1km to go, the road spiked out to our right. A quick 50m detour with a 180 degree turn that was obviously there just to ensure the course was a full 10k. Things like this in Jane Tomlinson races is why lots of serious club runners ignore them and call them "fun runs" I came in at the turn at a wide angle and leaned right in to it trying to keep my speed up. I trusted my trainers to grip in to the road and they held. Richard didn't do so well and he lost a few metres on me.

Just after the turn, a chap who I will assume knew Richard well, was in the middle of a wide road. Probably a member of his running club, maybe even a coach, and he shouted, "Sit in behind him Richard, just tuck in behind him. Use him"
I was the "him" and I was flattered. A club runner was using me to get a "good" time. And a club runner in the age group below me to boot.

Richard and I had been swapping places but at this point my quick turn had put me in front. I could hear him behind me working hard to reel me in. We ran the last half k shoulder to shoulder. "Good running" I gasped. impressed he had quickly made up the distance he had lost at the turn. "Thanks, no PB today for me though" he said. "Me neither" I replied.

Now we were back in the centre and the end was very close. The final bend came.....and then.... the horror.
I had been expecting a last sprint down a hill to the finish. In fact, it was uphill. Roughly 50m with something like 20 metres of ascent. Nasty. The mapmyrun runner had started his run at the bottom of the hill, in front of the start, making it look like the entire first 5.6km was uphill and the last 4.4km was downhill. It wasn't.

Richard put on his sprint with about 100m to go. "Off you go feller" I thought, "I haven't got it in me today. Good luck!"
It was then that another runner came sprinting past us both at a terrific speed. Impressive!

I managed a slight surge up the hill and near collapsed over the line 3 seconds behind Richard. We shook hands, "Good running" The MC approached me as I was bent double gasping. I think the microphone was off, thankfully. I muttered something about it being a hard course.


I picked up the vilest coloured race t-shirt I have ever had the misfortune to receive and a medal that is, disappointingly, exactly the same as the Hull medal, save for the ribbon.

I'm thinking of donating the t-shirt to a light house to keep ships off the rocks if the light ever fails

In the end the chest infection had maybe knocked 2% off on the day. I had been able to run hard without discomfort, but it was certainly slightly harder than it would normally have been.

I found Dom around the corner in the near-deserted race village, "Did you do it?" I asked. We both knew I meant the sub 36 minute time he wanted. He shook his head. No. "Top ten though?" He'd finished 6th. An amazing result. He'd also come 1st in his age group- and by a long way. As always, he was disappointed with his time as he hadn't made his target. Pointing out the hills and twists in the course proved no comfort to him, but of course, this is what makes Dom such a fierce competitor and a fast runner.

Myself, I'd finished 21st over all and 6th in my age group. Also, a fantastic result for me. When I stacked up my excuses and coupled it with the time and placing, I was very pleased, but I really had forgotten just how difficult and uncomfortable it is to run that hard for 40 minutes. Really bizarrely, I gave myself only my second ever running-related blister; the first had been caused by a sock problem. This one was a tiny spot right in the middle of my second toe. I finished a marathon only a few weeks ago without even a sore spot, so I have no idea how a blister happened!

My time official chip time of 40:15 was only 48 seconds outside my PB and had looked impossible for most of the race; it sat well with:

This Week's Excuses (™) :

1) The remnants of the chest infection
2) 3 weeks of the chest infection seriously curtailing my training
3) A very hilly course
4) Sagittarius being in Orion
5) The last one may just have been silly

Reasons to be cheerful:

1) The chest infection being taken in to account, there is a lot of improvement to come
2) I can start full on training again now the chest infection seems to have gone
3) It's sunny at last!!

Race summary:

As always, Jane Tomlinson runs are well organised and we must remember that the wonderful organisation behind them "Runforall" is not for profit and raises vast amounts for great causes. That said, as always, a few more loos would never go amiss as would a less twisty course. I have waxed lyrical about the lack of effort when it comes to cordoning the runners in to their timings so I won't go over it again, but it's not good.

Right, that's the bad stuff out of the way, now the good stuff:

The race villages have grown since I first ran a JT a few years ago and they really have become exceedingly efficient. There is never a wait for the bag drop, everything is close together and the small tent with the the story of Jane Tomlinson's incredible life and legacy always chokes me up. The woman completed an ironman whilst on chemo for f***'s sake! She really is a true hero of mine and a very sad lost to us all.

The atmosphere around the race was great as ever, the course was really beautiful. I have a vague recollection of Burnley from about 15 years ago when I visited it twice and it had left little to no impression on me. As we drove there I tried to recall anything about it. I failed.
Jane Tomlinson races are very careful to make their courses as picturesque as possible taking in all the local sights. I didn't think Burnley would have any, but I was pleasantly surprised. Wonderful well kept parks and trails and wide clear roads. It was a tough, hilly, twisty course, but it really was gorgeous.

I forgot to turn my GPS off as I crossed the line! The uneven splits tell a story of the hills on the course.

All in all, this really isn't ever going to be a PB race, it's just too tough a course, but if you're looking for a race with great organisation, a wonderful atmosphere and  beautiful route, look no further.

Race review: The Hull Jane Tomlinson 8.8k

The Maritime Museum, close to the start/finish of the race

This week's running was full of disasters. So nothing new there. The first was infection induced. The chest was problematic and was inching towards being better all week, but failed to tidy up its loose ends before the run on Sunday.
I was plunged in to a dilemma as always: I'm still a bit ill, do I run or not? And if I do, how hard do I go at it?
I was pleased that the chest infection seemed to reach its peak within a couple of days around Tuesday and was getting better, but there was a race against time to see if I would be ok for Sunday. On Saturday I was very close to being better, although I hadn't run at that point in 10 days. The conventional wisdom is you can run with a cold, providing the symptoms are above the neck, but mine were still below.
On Saturday night I experienced my first bout of insomnia in years so when I woke for the race on Sunday morning, I had had around 3.5 hours sleep. This wasn't the greatest race preparation I've ever had. Still, I was worried, after a week of illness I had no intention of running the race hard or trying to beat my PB, I had already reconciled myself to that fact.The poor night's sleep had done my chest no good and it remained 95% better instead of the 100% I had hoped.

Hull is my home city so I had been looking forward to a run here, but this year's pattern continued to mirror last year's as I had been unable to run this race full blast in 2012 after having missed the Leeds' half due to injury. Calf problems had stopped me from racing in Hull last year, instead I was reduced to a gentle training run, but I had been very pleasantly surprised by the the pleasure of taking it easy in a race. I was able to enjoy the crowd and watching other runners mid-race. I have to admit to the schadenfreude I felt as I jogged around in  about 46 minutes whilst the people around me appeared to be killing themselves to do the same time. It made me appreciate just how far I had come in 2 years from when I was desperately trying to go under 45 minutes.

The Jane Tomlinson Hull route has been very carefully designed to take in the sights (And yes, Hull has sights, before you say it) The race village is set at the end of the magnificent Queen's gardens with the beautiful fountain, over-looked by the maritime museum and the modern BBC building. A fitting setting.
The start is on Alfred Gelder street, another wonderful setting as either side is dominated by imposing historic buildings.

Unfortunately, that's where the problems starts. Alfred Gelder street is very wide, so quite why the cordon at the start is so thin, is not clear. It's a very cramped start and faster runners are sure to lose time unless they push right to the front. The front section is, somewhat laughably, split in to sub 45, sub 40 and sub 35 groups. I say laughably, because at the Jane Tomlinson's, the cordons are ignored to a massive, massive extent. The race organisers compound this to a gigantic degree by inserting dozens, and I mean, dozens, of corporate runners right in to the front of the race start.

What this effectively does, is ruins the race for anyone wishing to run a faster time (Say, sub 45)

Some may call me churlish for pointing this all out of course. They will say that the Jane Tomlinson's are a "Run for all" It's run entirely in aid of charity and is about getting anyone and everyone running. And I love this principal, I really do, and completely support it, however, by messing up the start, this badly, for anyone wishing to run a fast race, they are alienating a huge amount of runners. Serious club runners, in the main, don't enter Jane Tomlinson races, because of these reasons. By not properly policing the start and by aiding and abetting slow runners to the front, the run for all series can't be taken seriously by the quick runners. This I think is a terrible shame. If these problems were rectified, and the corporate runners were placed in an appropriate place, club runners might start to take it seriously and the races would expand. This can only be a good thing for the charities in question, and no one else need miss out. In the end, there is no reason for slow corporate runners to be at the front, other than to pander to the big companies sponsoring them. If they feel it is totally necessary to keep this pandering, then surely a side-cordon could be introduced to prevent the corporate runners getting in everyone's way.

Rant over.

I arrived at the start line having queued for not too long a time for the loos, to discover the still-too-thin-from-last-year cordon, stuffed even more full of corporate runners than ever before. With the chest infection in mind I decided I would line up just behind the sub 40 minute line. I soon discovered that there were still dozens of corporate runners in front of me and that I would need to push forward or lose a lot of time at the start. There were so many of them, that I ended up in the sub 35 minute section to escape.

Then the day's real disaster happened. We were warned of a problem that would mean the race start would be delayed by 10 minutes. Luckily it wasn't too cold. 10 minutes later, however, a man appeared next to the race MC with a face like thunder. It looked like he was about to cancel the race. Instead, he announced that there had been a problem with a bridge and that the race could not go ahead on the proposed route. Discussions with the race organisers and sport England had come to the conclusion that the best thing to do, would be to shorten the run. 9k they said.

My immediate reaction was obviously of annoyance. An early Sunday morning start and a fair drive to end up not even running the full race. "No bloody point in being here then" I grumbled. Who the hell was responsible for this bridge? How could they cock up this badly? I'm glad I rethought this attitude later on, but for now, back to the race.

Standing waiting for the race to start I still hadn't decided how hard I would run and what time I would aim for. When the shortened route was announced I had no idea what to do. Then a great idea hit me- Why not run the first 5k really hard and try to set a 5k PB? I had never run a flat 5k before. My lungs would probably hold out for a hard 5k, then I could just jog the rest of the race.

This shot isn't just for effect, this is the path we ran up

The race started 10 minutes late and I had edged far enough to the front that I didn't have to side-step too many of the corporate runners and to my surprise I fell in to a reasonably comfortable 3:30 per/k pace. The route heads south out of the city center, through a new housing estate and on to the banks of the Humber. The route is flat, but it's also very twisty, so not as fast as a flat course might other wise give. Sadly, pretty quickly, my chest started to complain and I began to slow, but not by too much. At first it looked like I might go under 18 minutes, but the week's illness was having too much effect and I covered the 4th kilometer in 4:05.   We came up to The Deep, the most successful of the UK's millennium projects and an iconic aquarium building. Another sharp turn and we were looking down Hull's millennium bridge, a foot bridge at the confluence of the river Hull and the Humber estuary. The 5k marker was on the other side of the humped, twisty bridge. At this point I had slowed down too much to knock a huge chunk off my PB, but I still stopped my watch at 19:26 around 20 seconds inside my record. Not too bad for a man with two bags of manure in his chest. I slowed to a walk for a minute to regain some breath, which must have looked very strange to the large group of spectators who had gathered at this point. I expected some shouts of encouragement "Keep going mate- you can do it" but maybe they were just baffled.

From that point the route takes in the Marina, Prince's Quay and the city hall before finishing where it started on Alfred Gelder.

At about 7k I was feeling pretty tired and was just wanting to finish, when another 2 girls passed me. I had run the first 5k with a woman on my shoulder that the crowd kept informing us was in 2nd place. The 2 girls who had just passed me, by my calculation, were in 5th and 6th. Suddenly, my friend Dom's voice appeared in my head, "I'm not letting a girl beat me" I shook it off. Told myself not to be silly. I had run my race, now I was just having fun. I wasn't in a good enough state to run hard any more. But still. Girls. Passing me. They sounded knackered too. Maybe I could speed up a bit, there wasn't far to go after all.
To my surprise, I found it pretty easy to up the pace and caught the two girls who had passed me quickly. I have a feeling they had spent quite some time chasing me down, so it must have come as a surprise to see me cruise past them. The course twisted and turned past the New Theatre, and we headed past the race village on Queens' Gardens and Alfred Gelder was in sight where the race would finish.

I will admit, I looked behind me at Queen's gardens to see if I could spot the girls and to my, admittedly  very sad, satisfaction, saw that I had lost them. A sizeable crowd was gathered at the finish and as I was on my own I was pretty certain the race MC would give me a shout out, which he did. He also seemed to think I was sprinting home, I wasn't, but my sad male bravado and vanity kicked in and I decided I would make it look fairly good by speeding up. I crossed the line in 36:30, which pretty much told me the revised course had been even shorter than they thought it was going to be. I had turned my GPS watch off at 5k so I wasn't sure. Other people confirmed the course to be 8.8k. Considering I had taken it very easy after 5k and the chest infection, I had to be pleased with that. Of course, I wasn't, my 5k should have been quicker. Something else to aim at.

Afterwards I chatted to another engineer (my bachelor's is in mechanical engineering) about the bridge problem. We started off by complaining about how the engineer responsible for the bridge had failed to check in time that it was working. Then as we talked around the subject we began to realise that maybe no one was at fault. The bridge in question is in constant use - it's the entrance to a very large marina. It was probably in use right up until the race, which means it probably failed very close to the race time. Either way, it's probably enough to give the benefit of the doubt. Afterwards the organisers gave a sincere apology and a substantial discount for next years run to all the day's entrants. A lovely and generous touch I thought.

The medal this year is a much more substantial and professional looking model and the t-shirt is a tech shirt for the first time, so no complaints there. The design for the front of the t-shirt is excellent in my opinion, although the powder blue colour probably isn't quite to my taste.

In the aftermath of the race I have, as usual, spent time telling myself I should be perfectly happy with my run. Had the run actually have been 10k I wouldn't have been able to run it hard, a 5k was a good compromise. And despite my illness I still set a PB.

This weekend it's rugby league in Manchester, then cricket at Headingley on Monday, so no running for me.
Hopefully it will give my chest a chance to recover. If you're running this weekend, all the very best!

Ok, I admit it, this shot wasn't taken on Sunday morning, I'm just showing off my photography skillz

The sad news from the Boston marathon

As I type, the shocking news is still unravelling about the incidents at the Boston marathon. It doesn't seem right at this minute to bang on about my week's running.

For those of you who don't know, currently, the news is that two bombs have exploded at the finish of the Boston marathon, killing 2 people and injuring up to 50. A third explosion took place at the city library. Although we don't know exactly what has happened yet, it seems more than likely the explosions were caused by bombs.

It's difficult to express the contempt you feel for people who perpetrate these terrible crimes. We can be fairly sure this isn't an attack on runners as such, but a strategic hit on a very large public event designed to cause maximum disruption, terror and fear.

The anger is boiling in me, but of course, this is exactly the emotion that allowed the psychopaths who did this to carry out their actions. Instead I will tunnel my actions in a positive way. I will run the Manchester marathon remembering the people killed and injured in Boston. Rather than the fear that this was supposed to spread, it will galvanise me and has made me more determined than ever to complete my first marathon in 2 weeks.

My thoughts and sympathies go out to all the people affected by this moronic and terrible event.

Marathon training: A suicidal schedule

When I finally began to believe that I could actually run a marathon I signed up for Manchester in September last year, around 8 months before the event. I had just completed the Great North Run with no ill effects at all and feeling great, so it seemed like a good idea. What could possibly go wrong? Judging by my luck, anything up to, and including, a nuclear war.
A couple of months down the line, however, things were going great. I wasn't following a set plan; I felt that decent physio and running experience had given me enough knowledge to be able to listen to my body and judge what I was able to do without one and it was working.
On December the 3rd I had built myself up to a 20 mile run. It went very well. I was tired at the end, but had no aches, pains or blisters. After the run I remembered the best bit of running research I have heard in a long while; that the best thing to consume after long runs for recovery, is chocolate milk. I don't care if those good professorial types at the university have got it totally wrong, I am going to believe that piece of research until the day I die!
The next day I had the tiniest amount of soreness and that was it. I was ridiculously pleased. Considering my injury record this was a real triumph. My thoughts turned from just finishing, to finishing in a (relatively) decent time. All was well.
Then I got ill. I had always supposed that if anything would scupper me, it would be injuries, illness hadn't even occurred to me. Still, it was just a bad cold, it'd be gone soon enough, right? 10 days later, I was just about better and previous experience had taught me that I could run at the very end of a cold and the resultant boost to my immune system would kill off the last of the cold.
As it turned out, I learned a valuable lesson that day; whilst a run may help to finish off a dying cold, a too long run may well start it up again.
The cold came back with a vengeance and all its mates. Another 10 days later the germs were just about done with their party in my sinuses. I tentatively started running again. A few days later, I got flu (real flu, not one of those bad colds that people get and call them flu) for only the 3rd time in my life. My temperature was raised for 5 days, and for 3 of those days it was above 39 degrees.

When the flu finally buggered off back to the bowels of hell from whence it had come, my chest felt like that of a 70 year-old career smoker. I'm sure my asthma didn't help with that. Worse than that though, was that my calves had forgotten that I am a runner and had decided to retire. When they were forced to get out of the rocking chair and grab a zimmer frame, they retaliated by tightening up during every run.
No problem though- I had had this happen before. I ran through what solved it last time. Taking my time building the distance, frequency and speed of my running; ice, heat, massage and glute exercises.
To cut a long and  not-very-exciting story shorter, time has started to seriously run out before the marathon.
I realised that my long run each weekend would need to to increase dramatically each week. More than dramatically, drastically, dreadfully, draftily. (I may have run out of words at the end there)
And so I set myself a suicidal schedule: 10 miles, 12, 15, 18, 22, marathon. No time for tapering.
Last week was the 15. It wasn't good. At 6km my calves were sore, at 8km they began to be painful. By 12km they were fine again and I only just felt them for the rest of the run. At 16km my right shoulder began to hurt like a tooth ache and stayed with me for the next 2k. At 19km my left hip started to hurt and became very painful. It helpfully stayed with me until the end of the run. Finishing was a real mental effort (in both senses of the word) 
The next day things were a lot better than I feared. Not too much soreness. I was hanging on to the plan by the skin of my teeth. A sports massage on Wednesday had me feeling much better and I managed a 45 minute 10k and a nice easy 5k.

This Sunday dawned with mercifully better weather for my 18 mile run. I even donned shorts for the first time this year. And nery a boat crashed in to the rocks of Leeds that day thanks to the light houses that are my lower legs. 
I set off at a ridiculous pace, especially considering last week's run. But I listened to my body and it was fine. I decided to trust how I felt. The run went well. This time no hip pain. The calves were sore, but they weren't that bad and they didn't get worse and at times I couldn't really feel them. I completed the 18 miles in 2 hours 15, at a pace 10 seconds per km quicker than the 15 miles the week before.I couldn't help but feel that a lot of it was due to this week's reading.........

Scott Jurek's book, Run and Eat, is a fascinating read so far (Don't spoil the end for me, I have 60 pages to go) His tips about remembering to enjoy running, on breathing and the psychology helped me during the 18 miler.

Today I had a wonderful moment that I described as being like finding money in the pocket of a jacket you haven't worn for months, but not just a tenner, more like £100! I realised that I had miscounted when I calculated the time I had left until the marathon. Turns out I have an extra week. 

Running kit: Modern trainers are a curse

That's right, thought I may as well put the controversial bit in the title, but we'll get to that later.

In my experience I have found that there is more snake oil in sports goods than the reptile house at Tropical World.
Last summer a team at Oxford University examined 431 claims in 104 products. Here's the BBC report on the study and here's the abstract on the BMJ (British medical journal) site. And basically, they discovered it was all pretty much nonsense at worst, and hugely exaggerated at best.
I first started to suspect that something wasn't quite right with what sports goods manufacturers told us when I was constantly told to "drink, drink, drink" from numerous different sources. It just didn't seem to make sense, especially when I was running only 10k on a cool day. When various fancy trainers started to cause me problems, I began investigating and found that there were studies that backed up what I found.
And don't start me on sports drinks, we'll be here for ever!

But anyway, let's try to be positive, it's not all bad....

My Dad did most of his serious running in the early 80s. I think technical materials were around at that time, but obviously, they weren't up to today's standards, nor were they all that commonly used. My Dad ran in pretty much nothing but cotton. Today, I would find it really tough to run without my tech material clothing. Maybe I should explain what I mean by tech material? Here's some of the properties and advantages they have over cotton:
Wicking: Modern materials draw moisture away from the skin as opposed to cotton, which stores it nicely and helpfully rubs it over your skin turning your nipples in to tiny scabs.
Flat seams: To help with chaffing issues. Those cotton seams can feel like razor blades after a few miles
Light weight: The materials start off light and because they don't hold the moisture, they don't feel like you're running in chain mail on a sweaty day.

As you can gather, I love modern running materials and it came as a huge revelation when I discovered it a few years ago as I had always trained in cotton shirts. The added comfort that being able to wear modern clothing; tights, jackets, buffs, gloves, socks, hats, etc, etc is huge.

Here's the sort of stuff I'm talking about, and no, I'm not a rep for Nike!!

And then there are GPS watches. Of all the pieces of running kit I own, I think this is the one that helps me most. I bought mine (a garmin 305) after having a look around a few running forums and seeing what was being recommended by the people actually using them.  I won't go in to a review of the one I own, but I'll tell you the benefits I find from using it. Being able to accurately tell exactly how fast I am running (To a point) is huge. Reviewing the data it collects after each run is incredibly useful and helps me keep track of my progress. I have so often found that runners under or over estimate the distances they run, so it's great to get accurate measurements. Also, I'm a geek, so I love the stats.
Some people prefer not to use GPS because they feel they can get obsessed with facts and figures and forget to enjoy their running. I see their point, but as a lot of my enjoyment in running is derived from challenging myself by lowering my times and upping my distances, I find it invaluable. If you run for other reasons than this, then GPS might not be for you.

Sorry about the blurry photo- I was excited (and knackered) after breaking my 10k PB.
The garmin connect site provides some great stats at your fingertips. It's nice being able to see how many miles I have covered each month in only a couple of clicks. Here's my page if you're interested.

So on to the controversial bit. Trainers.
I'll preface this bit by saying yes, I have read the wonderful "Born to Run" but my opinion is based on reading  around the subject as well, and more importantly,  from my own personal experiences.

In the early 70s the first cushioned trainers were released on to the market. This was a disaster.
Think about this; we evolved to be runners over millions of years of evolution. Why on earth would we evolve to require us to strap an inch of foam to our feet that needs changing every 500 miles or so? It doesn't make any logical sense. Evolution just doesn't make "mistakes" this big. Before the 1970s everyone ran in little more than plimsoles. The first 4 minute mile wasn't run on a foam cushion.

Don't believe we evolved to be runners? Read around the subject of  persistence hunting.

But! I hear you say, we run on pavements and concrete now! We need that foam!
Not true- studies have shown that the more cushioning we have, the harder we hit the ground. When you are forced to run as we evolved to do- on our toes- the correct natural gait takes over and the calves become our shock absorbers meaning we land much more lightly. The majority of us have grown up with controlling shoes with cushioning, so our bodies aren't used to this. It doesn't take too much time or effort to return to your natural gait.

Here's the next controversial bit:

"Gait analysis" in running shops is rubbish, total, total rubbish.

Let me explain by telling you of my own experiences:

When I started running again around 4 years ago I was a very heavy heel striker. My shoes wore away on the outer edge of the heel way before the rest of the shoes fell apart.
In I went to a specialist running shop and the shop owner (who is a very decent runner himself) "gait analysed" me. This involved watching me stand. (Yeah, seriously) He then sold me a very expensive pair of Mizunos. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of time for Mizunos, they tend to make natural feeling comfortable trainers. The pair I was sold, however, were a bad idea for a heavy heal striker as they had little cushioning there. To give him the benefit of the doubt- maybe he was trying to encourage me to run on my toes. But probably not.
Fast forward a while and I was experiencing lots of different problems (Back pain, shin splints, plantar fasciitis, etc) Again I was "gait analysed" by a specialist running shop. This time using a video camera. I left the shop with expensive Asic gels. To cut a long story short, they caused me hip pain. It took me a while to work out that it was the shoes causing the problem because seriously, how could it be the expensive trainer's fault? The ones I had specially selected for me?
On to a pair of expensive, heavily cushioned Sauconys. I was doing pretty well in these, for a while. Then I developed a pain under the ball of my foot which I only got when running. Swapping to a different pair of trainers removed the problem immediately.

So here's what I discovered: Expensive trainers are very unlikely to solve any of your problems, but they sure as hell can cause a few.

Once again, I can hear people shouting....."But I bought fancy new trainers and all my problems disappeared!!"
You ever thought that maybe it wasn't the arrival of the new trainers that solved your problems, but getting rid of your old, knackered trainers?

Over time I came to realise that by putting my feet in to trainers that control, push and shove my feet in all directions meant that it was taking over the job of the muscles in my feet causing those muscles to weaken and actually worsen my problems. I felt immediate improvement when I ran some very short runs in barefoot trainers. Through experience I realised that using very simple trainers, with less and less control and support actually improved my injury rate. I naturally moved from being a heavy heel-striker, to a mid-sole runner. When I say naturally, I never consciously tried to run differently, but by doing the exercises the physio recommended, it changed all by itself

After I discovered this I found that there was research to back this up. In one study people who had been "gait analysed" by running shops and bought recommended trainers were compared to people who had just chosen their trainers on comfort and fit, straight from the shelves.

There was no difference in the injury rate. None. Zero.

You pay out all that money for the fancy, top-of-the-line trainers, and for that, you get nothing. McDougal in "Born to Run" mentions a study by Dr Bernard Marti  that showed that high-end trainers actually increased your injury risk by 123%
If we want to be cynical, we could say that people who buy more expensive trainers are probably putting in more miles and are maybe already having injury problems, so you might expect there to be more injuries. But 123%? Well, no. And I would hope Dr Marti considered these factors in his study.
Besides, stats show that you have a huge risk of running injury no matter who you are, fat, thin, short tall, male, female, distance runner, sprinter, weekend runner, or obsessive nutter, your injury risk is pretty much the same.

Every beginner's running advice that I have ever seen has always included the immortal line "Get the right trainers" usually followed by advice to get a specialist shop to fit you "properly"

In my opinion and experience, the "right" trainers are simply ones that fit you well and are comfortable. If you buy trainers that "support" your muscles, you will make those muscles weak and that will lead to injury. Instead, work on strengthening all the muscles required to run and you will prevent against injury rather than treating a symptom.

Here's my current trainers (I also run in a pair of Brookes green silence), next to a really, really big leaf (My feet aren't small, honest!)

Ok....ok......here's my full collection.....

Fine, I admit it, my name is Scott and I'm a trainerholic.

I haven't gone in to food and drink supplements here, that is a huge and very complicated subject which although I have my opinions on, I probably don't have enough knowledge to discuss fully. 

That said, here is my very basic opinion: Eat as much natural, unprocessed things as you can. If you need to take supplements, then your diet probably isn't right.

So to conclude, sports goods: Don't believe all the hype.

P.S. I am aware that the phrase "In my experience" is dangerous, because the easiest person to fool, is ourselves. Here's an article that's very interesting in itself, but also discusses this issue (Read through it to find the bit I'm talking about)

My journey from injured crock to marathons

My Dad was always a runner for as long as I could remember. ( I use 'was', not because he's no longer with us; he's still going very strong in his 70s; but because sadly, he no longer runs) After years of seeing him head out the door for his long runs, I asked to go with him. For a while I regularly accompanied him on his short jogs around our local area, although I would stop and cut off a large corner then wait for him as he ran the longer route. I'm really not sure if that was for his benefit or mine.
Different sports then took over as I got older. I represented my city and county at rugby league, swam for my school and played football on and off amongst other things, but I always returned to running having managed to pass the point of needing to motivate myself and finding a place where I simply enjoyed getting out there.
When I was 23 and a student nurse, I developed a hernia. Men generally get inguinal hernias and women femoral hernias, so of course, mine was femoral. The NHS waiting list meant that from diagnosis to the operation to repair it, was 9 months, which I considered pretty good at the time. As I didn't want to aggravate the condition I stopped any training until the operation. Probably the only time in my life when I wasn't doing anything.
By the time I had the op and was ok to start training again, I couldn't wait and threw myself in to running and training with the local rugby league team. Within a few weeks my shins were painful, but I ignored it and carried on. The only injuries I'd ever had in my life were due to trauma from things like twisted ankles and big tackles, so a gradual onset pain was a new experience to me. Eventually I was referred to a physio and that's where it all went wrong for a very, very long time.

The physio gave me some truly terrible advice and some truly terrible treatment.

"As soon as you feel shin splints coming on, you should stop running for 6 months"

This is, of course, utter nonsense. The term shin splints is a description of a symptom- shin pain- and not a diagnosis or a cause. Shin pain can be caused by a whole multitude of problems and it very much depends on the cause as to what treatment you need. A blanket "Stop training for 6 months" is just rubbish. Sadly, I believed this piece of advice for many years afterwards. He went on to "treat" my condition with ultrasound and magnetic treatment. Neither, I believe, has any basis in science or research whatsoever. Even the seriously wooly thinking behind these treatments only really claims to treat acute pain and not solve the cause. Unfortunately, "therapists" are still using these techniques.
After a few week's rest and "treatment" the pain had all but gone, but unsurprisingly, it came back pretty quickly as soon as I started training again. Remembering the physio's advice, I stopped running again. Without any decent or correct preventative treatment for the cause of my shin splints it was unlikely to ever go away.

For the next 10 years I did very little running. Occasionally I would try again and soon the shin splints would return, at which point I would remember the advice and stop. Numerous times I gave up all impact training for 6 months and more, only for the shin splints to return as soon as I took up running again. Eventually I became resigned to the fact that I would never be a runner again and began going to the gym instead and using non-impact cardio machines.

I longed to don a pair of trainers and get out there

About 4 years ago I became so frustrated at not being able to run I decided to give it one last go. My father has marathon medals and my brother half marathon medals and so help me, I wanted a medal too! At that point you didn't really get medals for 10k races, so I knew I would need to run 13.1 miles to win that illusive medal. I determined to start it up very, very slowly and see how it went. I started with literally 2 minutes on the treadmill each time I went to the gym. After a couple of weeks I tried 4 minutes and a couple of weeks later 8 minutes. Over the next few months I worked my way up to 20 minutes. Buoyed by this limited success I went out for my first run outside in a decade. And it actually went well. Tentatively I continued over the next few weeks until the next problem hit. After around 20 minutes running I would get a short, sharp pain on the inside of my knee. Off I traipsed to the GP again who referred me to the knee clinic (Who knew they existed?!) After a CT scan the surgeon diagnosed a torn meniscus ligament. He offered me an arthroscopy (A camera into the knee to try to identify the problem and possibly some treatment, a "clean up")
I decided I may as well go ahead as I had nothing to lose. I could tell he was "managing my expectations" as he explained the procedure to me playing down the possible benefits and that it might in fact, have no affect.
I seem to remember he casually threw in that physio might be able to help, but he seemed so unconvinced I thought nothing of it.
Whilst waiting for the arthroscopy, I got a new job and moved to Leeds so I never did go under the knife. I decided, that as I could run without pain providing I was wearing a knee support, that I wouldn't pursue the op with my new GP, afterall, it seemed likely that the problems would recur and I'd end up having to have it done again. I did decide, however, that I would put down some serious money and go see a proper specialist sports physio.

And that's when my whole life changed and very much for the better.

Searching on line I found prosport physiotherapy . To my surprise it wasn't as expensive as I feared and I went off for the initial assessment with Martin, one of the directors. In that first session I remember him asking me what my expectations were, what did I want?

"I want to run marathons" I said. Never really believing it to be possible. I had entered his treatment rooms at the Leeds Rhino's training ground in Kirkstall with a whole list of pains and injuries. Starting from the bottom up:
Plantar pain (Pain on the sole of the foot)
Ankle pain
Shin pain
Hip pain
Knee pain
Lower back pain

I honestly gave him no chance of fixing me. But then, for the first time ever, a physio gave me a proper assessment. He looked at me as a whole, not just at one of my individual problems in isolation. I had seen many physios over the years, but each one had treated only one symptom at a time (I should point out these were NHS physios, apart from the initial one who gave me the worst advice, and as such have very limited time)
He assured me there was nothing mechanically wrong with me, no misplaced knee caps or swollen bursars and that he would get me running marathons. I can't say I really believed him, but it certainly gave me optimism.
"How many sessions will I need?" I asked. He basically replied "Depends" but in slightly more words. I became a little more sceptical, every therapist I had been to had told me how many sessions I would need. I asked what knee support I should use as I found them uncomfortable and difficult to keep them in place. I remember clearly that he said, "You won't need one"

Oh

I decided I had wasted my time and my money. I had a torn ligament- the surgeon had told me that, how would physio be able to manage that?

In the next few sessions Martin ran through my problems and gave me exercises and stretches to deal with each one. My ankles had no mobility, so he gave me stretches. My knees turned inwards as I hit the floor, so he gave me exercises to strengthen the muscles. My IT bands were almost entirely solid so he gave me painful deep-tissue massage and showed me how to use a foam roller. My over-sized thighs controlled my gait, so he gave me exercises to activate my glutes. (It's a weird experience to have physios prodding at your buttocks)

Foam rollers are evil implements of self-torture, but nothing compared to the hockey-ball-in-the-buttock torture

Two weeks after the first physio session, I stopped experiencing knee pain and have never had it since. The shin splints eased pretty quickly and thanks to Martin's advice I no longer worried that I was doing myself serious damage each time I ran. The pain moved around my body over the following weeks and the exercises changed and became more intense and I continued to receive the deep-tissue massage. Things improved immediately from the initial session though and I became convinced that I would, eventually, become a runner again.

There were set-backs of course. I developed hip pain and we struggled to get to the bottom of that one, until it turned out to be the very expensive Asics gel trainers I had bought on the advice of a shop assistant who had "gait analysed" me. (More on trainers and "gait analysis" in a later blog)

The only problem that Martin did not manage to solve was the plantar pain. I had followed all the accepted advice to try to solve the problem (rolling a can from the freezer under your foot, etc) and had even had a steroid injection in to the foot, all to no avail. Martin gave me exercises to improve the muscles in my foot and strengthen the arch which helped, but did not completely relieve the symptoms. The odd thing about my case, was that the amount of running, or walking I did, seemed to make no difference to how much pain I did or didn't get from it. I did however, eventually find a cure and have not suffered from it for probably 6 months now. Martin had recommended that I see a sports massage therapist once a month as I tend to suffer from tightening muscles so I began to see Jim Mason. I mentioned to Jim that I suffered from this condition and he casually mentioned that sometimes a tendon in the sole gets a bit tight and massage can help it. And I thought nothing of that either, until late in to session, he decided to work on it.....
A searing, burning pain shot through my foot as Jim's thumbs dug in to the sole of my foot. The pain was excruciating, but it was over as fast as it had begun. I have not suffered a moment's plantar pain since. I still go to Jim around once a month to keep my muscles from seizing up.

So I realised that Martin's reluctance to tell me how many sessions I would need was entirely correct. You just can't guess that. It all depends on how well you respond to treatment and if you bother to do the exercises and stretches that you are given. I did mine obsessively. I was very short of money and needed to spend as little on physio as I could. At that time, most of my spare cash was going to the physio and I have never spent better money in my life. It gave me back my running life and I will be forever grateful for that.
Martin is very keen to teach you how to manage your own body (and thus creating less work for himself, but what he loses in you requiring less sessions, I am sure he gains in recommendations) So now I feel that I can handle most problems that come up.

As time went on I managed to run more often, moving from two 5ks a week, to four 10ks. I had eased my way up to 11 miles when I lined up for the Great North Run last year. I was nervous as I hadn't got up to the full distance in training, but my brother eased my worries when he mentioned that he only ever trained for his halves by doing 10ks and I remembered that I had spent a long time training for 10ks with 5k runs.
 I won't go in to the actual race too much as I will probably write a full blog entry about the GNR some time but suffice to say, the run went far, far better than I could ever have hoped for, and I crossed the line in 1:34 smashing my expectations by some way. The crowd had carried me along. I was very proud of my winnings and here they are:

My journey to the marathon is not yet complete. My first marathon is booked and paid for in just 5 weeks time. Just 3 months ago I had worked up to 20 miles with no problems the day after and was feeling very happy to be well ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, I then spent 2 months being ill, culminating in a very nasty flu that knocked me back a long way. When I started to train again, I found my chest was terrible after the illnesses, but worse than that, I suffered from tightening calves again, a problem I had successfully got over a year previously. I thought back to how I had treated it and after a few weeks they got better. I went out for 11 miles and arrived back with no problems. Then I got cocky, and decided to go out for a run the next day, forgetting that it's usually sensible to rest at least a day or two after your longest run (another valuable lesson learned!). The calf tightness came back immediately. Having another think, I remembered that Martin had been very keen to get me to do more glute exercises when I had had the calf problem before, so I got stuck in to a few of them

And this is where I currently stand. My glutes are very sore from the exercises (proving to me I obviously was in dire need to work them as clearly they had got lazy from 2 months on the sofa!) My calves are still sore, even more so from the massage session on Friday that specifically worked the sore spot on my right calf. And the Manchester marathon is 5 weeks away. From hereon in, my training has to go exactly to plan
or I am in trouble.

Wish me luck!

Update: I have since learned more about plantar problems and that the popular term: plantar fasciitis is a misnomer; it's not caused by swelling so the traditional treatments, most of which are based around reducing swelling, don't work, which explains my story and the success I've found with massage.

Men in tights: The embarrassment of male running tights

Say hello in the comments or tweet me: @scott_leach

Camp!? Camp!?  Moi?

I lived in Brisbane, Australia, for a year during 2002-2003 where the average temperature in the winter is 18C and it turned me in to a total wimp. I grew up in Yorkshire, a generally cold and drizzly place, and didn't take too much notice of the weather. When I was younger if you'd told me tomorrow would be 10 degrees C, I couldn't have told you if I was going to need sun block or a duffle coat. But 9 measly months out there and I became a little girl when it came to the cold. Of course, 5 years with an Australian girl who was obsessed with the weather, complaining 20 degrees was too cold and 28 degrees was too hot, might have something to do with it.

I distinctly remember as a young man of maybe 18, going out running on Christmas day with the ground covered in re-frozen slush in old-skool shell bottoms, a cotton t-shirt and a sweat shirt. 5 minutes into the run, the jumper came off and was tied around my waist. People looked on at me with puzzled expressions, burying themselves in to warm, thick, padded jackets as I whizzed past them.
Years later when I re-entered the world of running, with my new-found wimpishness, I knew I would need to wrap up warm. However, being a Yorkshireman of course, I wouldn't be seen dead in tights, even though jogging bottoms feel so cumbersome.
But also.....being a Yorkshireman (the myth is that we're tight with money).....when a certain discount sporting goods shop happening to have some very nice full-length, thick, moisture-wicking tights in at a steal of a price.....well.....

Actually, wearing lycra (I believe lycra is "spandex" in America) came about before I decided to run in ridiculous degrees during the winter. A summer earlier, I really can't remember what possessed me to buy a pair of tight-fitting lycra shorts that ended above my knee. I guess they were probably on cheap......

Even after I had bought the lycra, I couldn't bring myself to run around Leeds in my bulge-shorts displaying my packed lunch for all to see, so I would always wear a pair of modesty shorts over the top. Although I did have to admit, the lycra was seriously comfy...

After a while I began to consider that perhaps, wearing the bulge-shorts for total comfort was slightly negated by the flappy shorts over the top. Maybe, just maybe, I should consider dumping the modesty shorts?! But surely, men should NEVER be seen in lycra?!?! Running forums often have the "should men wear lycra?" debate. Sod it, I would try it out at the local club's 10k in Horsforth. Surely amongst 600 club-runners there would be plenty of men wearing lycra?

Er yeah, I think there was 2. Bugger. The modesty shorts stayed on.

I continued to debate back and forth and eventully, at a 10k in Sheffield, I threw caution, and my baggy shorts, to the wind! It felt freeing! glorious! spiritual! Wonderous! Amazing!

Well, ok, it felt comfy. Here I am, the following year in Sheffield again (Same shorts):

I'm not sure when I decided I shouldn't go commando under them though, but still, I learned that lesson at some point.

Now that winter keeps coming back to say hello I am glad of thick, heavy winter tights. I don't care if I look like several badly-packed horse-meat sausages from a dodgy supermarket, they're comfy and they're as warm as I can get without running with my duvet around me (Tempting, tempting!)

These days I have completely stopped worrying about how I look when I run and really can't believe I ever worried about it. The key is to always totally look like you know what you're doing, even when you haven't a clue, that way no one questions your sartorial running choices.
So yeah, I am a convert to wearing lyrca and time will tell if I recognise the exact age when I really, really need to STOP wearing it. But for now, comfort reigns. And at least I haven't given in to wearing hi-viz yet!

Snow running

No, I'm not sure what's going on with maniacal smile either

I am very used to being called a nutter, strange, mad and all the rest for being a runner, but this is usually from non-runners. Last week, however, I experienced the odd experience of having fellow runners call me similar names. Why? Snow running!

Leeds experienced some bizarre weather on Wednesday. I woke up at 11am (I'd done a night shift, before you judge/feel jealous) to see the beginning of a snow storm. There was a very light dusting of snow on the pavements outside. By the time I left for work 3 hours later, there was around 4 inches of snow on the ground. An hour after that and one abandoned car, I trudged in to work 40 minutes late. By the time it stopped snowing that evening something like 6 inches had fallen.
One can tell when one has become an adult when one sees snow and doesn't think "Yay!!" but instead, "Oh dear, that'll cause some traffic problems" and also, when one starts referring to oneself as "one".
The only upside for me, was that I would be able to go for a run in the snow later. When my friends found out about this, I got the usual incredulity from the non-runners, but I also got it from the runners too!

A walker on Skiddaw in the lake district a couple of years ago

I arrived home from work and excitedly pulled on my bright orange trail runners. I have become a huge wimp when it comes to running in cold weather these days, so I also pulled on a long-sleeved compression top, a t-shirt, a soft shell jacket, full length tights, hat, buff and gloves too.  And off I set. Once again I quickly returned to the sense of childhood joy as the snow squeezed and squelched under my feet making wonderful crunching and flatulence noises depending on whether I was hitting hard snow or the rapidly thawing stuff. I felt the trail runners gripping in and enjoyed the extra challenge of controlling the reduced friction under my feet.

The trail runners, in warmer times

So why do most runners have such a fear of running in the snow? They think they're going to slip and fall. Pretty simple really. Same adult voice that warns them about the traffic chaos coming because of the snow.
The fact is though, most runners have never tried running in the snow. Fear stops them, but is it really so hard?
Well.....no, it's not.

In fact, I run on ice too. I used to do it before I had fancy, extra grippy trail running shoes too. So here's my theory:
You hit the snow/ice much harder when running than you do when walking, thus the ice/snow that you struggle to walk on, can be run on. Sure, your feet skid a little from under you, but it's more than doable. Don't try to stop or change direction or stop too quickly though, obv, for that way lieth disaster.

The next day the snow was all but gone and the traffic was moving again. Shame, I thought, I won't get to do another snow run.

I'm not saying snow/ice running is for everyone, I've got a pretty good sense of balance and my feet skidding under me doesn't faze me too much, but if you can lose your fear and go for it, then it can be a wonderful feeling.

Here's my snow running tips:

1) Run with confidence
2) Trail running shoes will help, but they're not actually essential
3) Don't panic when you feel your feet slipping a little under you, it doesn't mean they're not gripping at all
4) Give yourself extra time to stop and change direction, take extra care at road crossings
5) Buy decent cold weather running gear if you're a wimp like me - keep yourself comfy!
6) Enjoy it!

Why do you run?

I've lost count of the number of articles I've read where lyrics are waxed about why the writer runs.
So I thought I'd best give it a go.

When people ask me the eternal question "Why do you run?" I can go off in a variety of directions and I am sure none of them are anything you've not heard before. I could probably write out a list of around 10 reasons people run and 99% of runners would fit in to one or several of them.
Here's my quick list that applies to me, in no particular order:

1) The challenge
2) Fitness and health
3) It's fun
4) To keep the weight off from the beer and pizzas I consume
5) For the feeling of breaking my PB
6) It's fun
7) To see new places and experience new things
8) It's fun

Of course, none of these reasons are very romantic, apart from maybe number 7, but as with most things, there's more to it than that.
When the "Why do you run?" question is asked, more often than not there is the unspoken "because you seem like a nutter for doing it" thought behind it. Or if you have my type of friends, it isn't unspoken, it's in your face.
To begin to answer this, here's a great thought from Ann Trason, a legendary ultrarunner, as described in every runner's bible "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougal.
"Of course her friends didn't get it because they'd never broken through. For them, running was a miserable two miles motivated solely by size 6 jeans: get on the scale, get depressed, get your head phones on, and get it over with."

And this is where most of these discussions begin, with someone telling me that they're just not a runner, that they've tried, but it's just too horrible. They get too tired, too sore, they feel silly, they get such a short distance before needing to stop it's demotivating, everyone else is better than them, etc, etc ad infinitum.
I always start by telling them, that they have to push through that and get to the point where that all stops, and other motivations take over. They are the pinnacle of millions of years of evolution, what do you mean you can't run? You can, you've just forgotten how.

When I started running seriously again nearly 3 years ago, it took 4 months before I ran comfortably. Of course I started from a much different position from a lot of people who have barely moved from the sofa since school, I have a residual level of fitness from years of swimming, cycling, hiking, rugby, football and all the rest. However, I have the added psychological disadvantage of seeing myself as athletic. That means I am not really very happy to bimble around 5k with my feet not lifting from the ground; if I'm not running, running, I'm not happy. So for 4 months, I went eye-balls out each time I ran. Trying to shave seconds off my record each time.
And then one day, I didn't have a race coming up in a week or two to train for, and I just went out for a nice easy run. And what a revelation.
I eased lungfuls of fresh air in to my body instead of hungrily gasping it down. I looked around, instead of seeing through a waterfall of sweat, heard the sounds around me instead of rushing blood in my ears.

I enjoyed it.

Much has been said of how it is a return to childhood joy when running sinks in to you. I recently found the muddiest bit of one of the local country parks, a 100m quagmire under the trees. Sprinting through it I laughed and giggled like a child, my feet sinking deep in to the mud and water. The adult in me didn't remind me what I was doing to a £100 pair of trainers, or that my feet were getting soaking or that I could twist an ankle here. The adult was quiet. I like to think he looked on like a parent enjoying their child playing in the box of the expensive toy they've just been given instead of the toy. Just smiling at the sheer joy it was producing.
I can't remember the last time I had that much fun. (Well, whilst wearing shoes, anyway)

As for the rest of the reasons in my list. Health and fitness, keeping the weight off and being able to pretty much eat and drink what I like, are happy consequences, but they're not the motivation.
Running has sunken deep in to me now. Call it primeval instinct maybe. That said, on a day-by-day basis, I use the pursuit of my PB as motivation in the main. Last year was spent trying to regain my fitness after injury,  for an assault at my 10k PB. I finally achieved it at the Abbey Dash in Leeds, punching the air (I am sure to the amusement of the spectators) in a flood of relief, happiness, joy and a wonderful sense of achievement.
After a season of near misses, never-closes, horrible disasters and blood, tears, toil and sweat I took a shaky, blurry shot of my GPS watch with my time, posted it to Facebook and went for a coffee.

Target achieved.