Rowbotham's Round Rotherham 50mi. 15/10/2011.



Race 12 of 12 in the 2011 Runfurther series.

I had spent the best part of two weeks fantasising about a warm, dry, sunny Round Rotherham where the running flowed, the navigation by colourful cartoon map went flawlessly and I collapsed exhausted at the timekeeper's desk for a PB finish. Much to my amazement IT ALMOST ALL CAME TRUE!

After a comfortable night's sleep and hassle-free early exit from the Sandygate Hotel (this hotel has improved markedly since last year and is good for a sound night's sleep now that discos and parties are off the menu), I arrived at Dearne Valley College sports centre in plenty of time to see the early 6am starters off. Once they were on their way into the cold clear pre-dawn, we later starters could get registered and have a natter. I was spoilt for choice with so many well-known faces but not enough time to catch up with gossip. There was action girl extraordinaire Dawn Westrum, Runfurther Karen, two-time Grand Slammer (to all intents and purposes) Dick Scroop who does flippin' well for his age; speedy Jim Mann, Geoff Holburt, Karen Nash, Martin Beale (too preoccupied to natter), David Jelley (too busy nattering to others to natter), Roger Taylor, Fraser Hirst (just back from long haul air travel but would it slow him down?), Will Harris, Julian Brown, Greg Crowley (the other 2011 Slammer and speedy with it, but I missed him AGAIN) and Rick Ansell (not usually elusive but he was this time); Garry Scott (speeding up nicely), Jon Steele (a good turn of speed as long as it's not hot), Mike D-H (who's moving up the ranks rather well). I could go on but you're probably bored to tears already.

Ian Bishop had a black and white copy of the strip map in his hands and asked me about the changes for 2011. I fetched my colour copies and hopefully put his mind at rest.

Shortly before 7am a whistle was blown with great force in close proximity to me to advise us that we needed to be moving outside. With ears ringing I joined the exodus. The first light of dawn was just beginning to show in the cloudless sky. The temperature had plummeted to the lowest level so far in this mild autumn – not that far above freezing.

A cool dawn.

After the instructions and wait for 7am to arrive, we were off to get into the groove of a day's running. We trod carefully over the frosted footbridge. The mist hung low over the lake ahead. I should have taken pictures but I was running. Geoff seemed to be on fire today; within a mile or two he was pulling away out of sight. Garry with his white Inov-8 cap on back-to-front was keeping in sight for a little longer, but not much. Wow, he's speeded up since the Lakeland 100. I glanced at my heart rate monitor readout to see if I was overcooking the pace. 165bpm – perfect – optimum for going long without blowing up. The last two weeks of running to work must have done me good. Without that daily raising of heart rate it probably would have been 175bpm and I'd be crashing and burning within 2 hours. I sensed already that it was going to be a successful day.

The sun made its first tentative appearance above the horizon as we passed the wood yard before Wentworth. It wasn't much higher as we descended from Wentworth, when I was finally driven to capture some images. Dave Cremins and Josh Whiteley were in the frame as they overtook me. (It would turn out that we would play cat and mouse for the day, as shown by my photographs, and finish within a minute of each other.) Keppel's Column beckoned on the horizon.

Dave Cremins and Josh Whiteley.

On the climb towards Keppel's Column in the calm air with the sun well above the horizon, there may have been ground frost but I was plenty warm enough by now, so off came the wind-proof top to set the attire for the rest of the day – vest and shorts, initially with Buff around my neck to stave off the remaining early morning chill. Armada Photography were in their usual positions taking pictures.

Checkpoint 1 at Grange Park (10 miles) soon arrived. I loitered to take care of business. Dick said “Take your time Nick, take plenty of pictures”, etc. before making himself scarce. Jon arrived, and then it was my turn to be off. Descending through the woods to the valley before Droppingwell Road I was surprised to see Karen Nash running back from the right along the track we had to cross. She’d been on a bit of a detour. She soon pulled on ahead up the other side. As I watched her pull away, a pedestrian came down the path, passing Karen shortly before passing me. I said hello and got a “Hello love” back. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and elected not to give him a good slapping. Either it’s a quirky local term of greeting between males or his mind was still all of a whirr from having encountered Karen 15 seconds earlier ;-)

Once again I had been amused and visually entertained by the little bulbous people beside the path before and after Droppingwell Road. I should have taken more pictures but I was running!

I turned right up to Hilltop and down, bypassing the disputed footpath that we used to take but haven't been able to take for several years now, down to the road, left then right down the secret hidden footpath between factory fences known only to Round Rotherham participants and others in the know. Here I caught up with Dick, who had strayed up the hill to the right, apparently led astray by another race marker flag. I called him back. According to the strip map, at this point the Meadowhall shopping complex is to our right. So far I have never seen it, so this time I decided I would look right, probably while crossing the railway line. The footbridge was made of metal and the walls were very high. It was damp and very slippery. We needed all our attention to avoid coming a cropper. I forgot to look right. I still haven't seen the Meadowhall shopping complex from the Round Rotherham route. Is it actually there?

Next came the run beside river and canal and left turn up through Tinsley. 15 miles are not passed yet but I have always slowed down by this point. I needed food. I sucked on a gel and used it as an excuse to have my first guilty walking break when I could have been running, before recommencing the shuffle up around the industrial estate. I was surprised by how the field had spread out and how I was already alone.

The bus lane before Sheffield Airport now has a padlocked gate across it. Cutbacks! The wasteland that follows has been transformed over the past few years, now with hotels and landscaping and a decent footpath to follow instead of ankle-twisting waste land. A new boundary and stile preceded the underpass beneath Sheffield Parkway. I caught up with Will Harris, who was unsure of the way. “Left to Catcliffe”. Catcliffe came and went and we climbed up to the expansive fields (landscaped ex coal mining area) beside the river, to the big substantial footbridge left over the river, over the railway and on to Checkpoint 2 at the cricket club in Treeton. Dick had caught up with me again. He urged me once more to loiter awhile to eat, drink, sort myself out and take plenty more pictures. I began to suspect ulterior motives behind his friendly advice. ;-) ;-)

Looking like summertime at CP2 @ Treeton.

I left CP2 up the footpath, looking for the big rocks on the right that signalled the right turn. They seemed to be a long time coming. I began to have doubts and slowed down. The runners who were catching up from behind confirmed that I was still on the right path. We continued and soon, there they were. A right and left downhill brought us to the concrete bridge that crossed the bog area to Treeton Dyke.

Approaching the leftmost viaduct arch along the Trans Pennine Trail (how this path has improved from unkempt mud bath to proper cycle path since I first did the Round Rotherham) I couldn't help noticing the mass of solar panels on the south-facing house roofs up the hill to the left. The first of the relay runners had overtaken me. Will Harris overtook me for the final time to ultimately finish 37 minutes ahead. A couple of minutes later I caught up with Karen Nash again. “Something's not right”, I thought to myself. “I shouldn't be seeing Karen at this stage in a race”. She was suffering with painful right hip and was fighting back tears of anger and frustration that her body was preventing her from doing what she knew she could do. BEEN THERE, DONE THAT. I trawled through my experiences to offer the best encouraging words I could find. I asked if she needed an Ibuprofen but she was already well dosed in that department. We plodded and consoled into the Rother Valley Country Park before she forced herself, with a groan of frustrated anger, into a shuffle that soon took her ahead and out of sight. Bear in mind she was 'crook' and I was fighting fit and on for a (near) PB. She finished 44 minutes ahead of me. Some have got it and some haven't.

I carried on with my shuffle and soon caught up with Julian Brown, who was WALKING. “Hello”, I thought. “Either he's injured, he's been overdoing it recently and can't manage it, or he's only interested in a pleasant stroll on a warm sunny day (in mid October)” We walked, jogged, chatted and played cat and mouse for the next 16 miles until the big open fields after Firbeck, where I was 'running' well at PB pace but he caught up with me for the final time and ‘sauntered’ ahead in relaxed fashion to finish 17 minutes ahead.

Several field crossings (they are so much better than in December) brought us to Checkpoint 3 and the halfway point at Harthill, where Runfurther Karen was snapping away with her camera. The sun was blazing and everything felt good. I spent minimal time here before resuming my journey.

After Harthill came many fields, freshly ploughed with young crops of grass or some other plant life across which our path took us. Occasionally the field path was not visible and we had to guess our route across, trampling more of the crop than should have been necessary. It’s the farmer’s fault, I thought, for not re-establishing the route across. Sometimes there was a tractor track across the field to guide the way, but when it was absent, we guessed and trampled and built up heavyweight mud platforms on our shoes.

The calm sunny day with good visibility meant that the airfield was active, with light aircraft doing circuits and landing as I passed the end of the airstrip.

Someone had thoughtfully built a scaffolding footbridge across a boggy area before the railway crossing.

Jon Steele crosses bridge over bog.

Railway crossing.

The permissive underpass at the golf course under the A57 still looks shiny new and pristine, making me wonder if the golf club rather than the local council is taking care of it.

I caught up with a Vibram FiveFingers wearer on the approach to Checkpoint 4 at Woodsetts. He’d done well to pad along for nearly 30 miles but his toe joints were getting sore, so he would be changing to ordinary shoes from his drop bag at the checkpoint. I’d hardly eaten any of my food so I did not need much restocking from my drop bag – just another 500ml of Coke, four more gels and a Nutrigrain bar and I was good to go.

Dave Hardy enjoys a bite at CP4 - Woodsetts. Josh and Dave C contemplate the fayre.

Even though there are still 20 miles to go I always feel as though I’m on the homeward stretch once I leave Woodsetts. It’s just a case of keeping up the fuelling and hydration, holding it together, enjoying the beautiful scenery, ticking off the landmarks and counting down the miles back to the college.

There were more sunny open fields to cross, the causeway between the fishing ponds and left turn across more fields. The sun was warm and I was fair working up a sweat. The Buff had migrated from my neck to my wrist hours earlier.

Julian caught up with me once again just in time to advise me that I needed to fork left in the woods to get to Langold Lake. I was having leanings to the right at that instant and could have wasted a few seconds. At the lake we came across an RSPCA woman who was lugging a cygnet in a cloth carrier. It had been reported by a member of the public that it couldn’t open its beak properly, so it was being taken to ‘hospital’ for investigation and ‘repair’. Julian and I spent a good few minutes chatting with her and I took more pictures (with her permission).

Cygnet 'goes for repair'.

At 35 miles and Checkpoint 5 we came upon the first change for 2011 – the new, posh, Firbeck Village Hall on the left, just opposite the old one, now boarded up. I just needed a quick water bottle top-up and I was off before Julian once again to begin the long, zigzag crossing of the wide open fields. I found myself with Dave and Josh again, but not for long. They, followed by Julian, disappeared into the distance. Nevertheless my crossing of that section, which on a bad day can seem never-ending, went quite quickly and comfortably.

Before I knew it I’d turned sharp right down the lane and left onto the grassy path towards my favourite part of the whole route – Roche Abbey. I gawp in wonderment every time I pass such structures and lament the mindless destruction of our heritage that was perpetrated during the tyrannical reign of King Henry VIII and the dissolution of the monasteries in the 1500s. Think of what all these monasteries would look like now if they hadn’t been looted and smashed up nearly 500 years ago! Armada Photography lurked within the shadows as usual to capture those special images as I ran through the grounds.

Remains of Roche Abbey.

I was still alone and I was enjoying the solitary concentration of running as fast as my body allowed along that undulating wooded path, eventually diagonally left to descend across the fields and into the wood again to the church graveyard on the right, where the strong dappled sunlight created stark contrasts between light and shade. Here was the second change for 2011. Checkpoint 6, Maltby, had been brought back half a mile or so to just after the 40-mile point. It was now under cover in the church hall. My legs were somewhat leaden after all this running and I had to adopt my kneeling therapy to squeeze the blood out of the muscles and restore better function to them. It always works to a greater or lesser degree. After 30 seconds of that and a quick water bottle refill from the tap, I was off, leaving Jon Steele taking refreshment (I expected him to catch me soon).

The penultimate section to Old Denaby always seemed a long hard slog, but it’s even longer now. Nevertheless I always relish these final 10 miles because I usually pass other runners all the way to the finish. This year was no exception. I got my head down, got on with the job and slowly picked them off one-by-one. The full sugar Coke was on virtual drip feed to keep the legs fuelled. When that was no longer enough, a Kellogg’s Elevenses bar, eaten half at a time, kept me on the boil. I was getting competitive now and first thoughts of a PB started to flit through my mind. Could I beat 9:13? All photograph-taking was off limits from now-on.

The third and final change for 2011 was passed without incident (new massive field after the old railway cutting with tractor track diagonally across to show the footpath route).

The usually visible path diagonally left up the field after Firsby Hall Farm was not there. Instead a wiggly ‘trod’, which degenerated into a fanned-out trampling of the farmer’s field towards the top, delivered me more directly than ever before to the dip and footpath descent through the woods towards Hooton Roberts (I love that name). A brief walking break up the lane to the crossing of the main road was followed by a nice downhill run on the other side. A couple shouted encouragement from their car as they passed in the opposite direction. I glanced at my watch. I forget what I saw – something like an hour maximum in which to get a PB. I thought to myself: “No chance; I’ll never cover the remaining miles in that time. I’ll aim for sub 9:30 and be satisfied with that.” I didn’t let up, though. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try my best to the end.

I’d lost count of the number of people I’d overtaken and I now had another two in my sights. I caught them at the right turn onto that final track over the top. I recognised them as two I’d run with on and off during the day. A few pleasantries were exchanged before I set my sights on a lone runner further up the track (another one I’d run on and off with). We ran together down into Checkpoint 7 at Old Denaby. I didn’t need any provisions now because it was a short hop to the finish. I left within seconds, alone how I like it to follow the route like I know the back of my hand.

I ran like a hunted animal, like my life depended on it, twisting and turning along the intricate route across railway (thank goodness there were no trains coming and I didn’t have to waste time climbing over the bridge), across the river and alongside the canal, through the station, beside the big river and biscuit factory (no biscuit smells this year) and over the big road bridge to the delightful Swinton.

True to form, the sound of car abuse drifted to my ears as engine screamed and rubber was torn off on the side roads for which I was headed. I prepared myself for evasion tactics. Luckily by the time I got there it had stopped. Instead I was greeted by the sight a table with drinks at someone’s front garden, with the residents offering us refreshments. I’d seen it earlier on in the day but this was a first for Swinton. I declined with thanks. My two drinks bottles would last me for the final mile+.

A right and left past the derelict pub brought me to the canal spur. I was still overtaking but this time I was amazed to be catching up with Dave and Josh, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly 15 miles, and they were WALKING. We rounded the end of the dead-end canal. I glanced at my watch. There were 2 minutes to go to PB time, making a new PB a rather forlorn hope now. I was just flabbergasted to have got here this quickly. I didn’t look at my watch again. I forced myself to run with Dave and Josh up the path to the road, across and into the scrub land opposite. We zigzagged around the bushes up to the track that led us down to the college. I was giving it all I had but I couldn’t hold onto them. I veered left across the grass past cheering and photographing spectators, down the ramp past more Armada Photography, past Geoff who shouted PB encouragement to me – “Too late, it’s already gone” I gasped, up the car park and round the back of the hall to the physical support of the timekeeper’s desk. “What time did you make it?” “9:14:20”.

Aaargh, I'd missed it by less than one minute (it was 9:13:24 in 2009). Never mind. I never honestly believed I’d get anywhere near a PB so it turned out rather good in the end. I was 56th (38th in 2009). Now, if only I hadn’t spoken with the RSPCA girl for so long…..

Dave and Josh finished in 9:13:43. No ‘if only’s this time. I’ve already said I couldn’t hold onto them.

It was sweet to finish with a flourish with a best personal performance of the year and to get my highest Runfurther points on the final race of the series. It was the 'cherry on the cake' of a great year's running. The amazing weather (sun tan in mid October indeed) and amazing event organisation and support made for a perfect ultra-running day.

The other Grand Slammer Greg Crowley, who I always seemed to miss (or fail to recognise) at the events, finished 38th in 8:40:01. His Slam has been impressively speedy, earning him big points. Very well done Greg.

The race winner was Ian Symington with a time of 6:47:14. Words fail me as always when presented with evidence of such speed.
Ian Bishop finished second in 6:50:04. Well done Ian B. Now, what would you have done if I hadn’t given you all that route advice at the beginning? ;-) ;-)
Third was Kevin Doyle in 6:53:05.

Geoff Holburt finished 18th overall in 8:05:15. I don’t know how you do it Geoff, you speed freak ;-)
Fraser Hirst’s air travel obviously didn’t slow him down, since he finished 35th in 8:37:39.
Will Harris was hot on his heels, finishing 36th in 8:37:45.
Garry Scott was 44th in 8:54:34. The new speedy Garry. Well done you.
Julian Brown had an easy day but still bimbled home in 48th with an impressive 8:57:27.
Jon Steele finished close behind me in 9:20:00 for 59th place.
Mike D-H, he with good blog, came in 112th in 10:28:56.
Dick was not far behind, finishing 116th in 10:37:12. Well done both.

First woman was Helen Skelton in 8:00:10.
Second woman was Victoria Mousley in 8:25:30.
Karen Nash was third in 8:30:51. That’s an impressive result Karen after our little ‘hike’ together through Rother Valley Country Park.

Dawn smashed her PB with a 90th place finish in 10:01:46. She's another one who writes a mean blog. She made a striking comparison between her 2010 and 2011 times. Last year, when she had terrible navigational woes in the early miles, she started and finished in the dark. This year, fitter and faster and without any such route-finding issues, she started and finished in daylight. Well done Dawn.

My picture-taking tailed off seriously towards the end, as already explained. Here’s the cream of the crop: RRR pictures

The Round Rotherham is so far the only UK race that is a qualifier for the Western States 100. How bizarre is that? It will change of course as more races get submitted. I shall be chucking my name into the WS100 hat for 2012. The same goes for the UTMB hat. It’s already in the LDWA Games 100 hat. Bring on 2012!

Miscellany

Guided running holidays with a physiotherapist

I recently saw this (see above link) on the Guardian website, which looks rather good for anyone who would like to up their running performance, learn better technique (I know I do) or just enjoy a healthy and productive running holiday where everything's taken care of and you're looked after rather well. David Jelley is a physiotherapist, so he could even be useful if you're coming back from injury. He's also fast, but only in the heat of competition. He wouldn't dare run his clients ragged; he's much too nice a bloke to do that. I know because I've met him a few times, most memorably at the Shires and Spires Northants Ultra 35 in June this year, where he finished second to Stuart Mills. It may sound like a contradition but from the tone of the article, his running holidays actually sound relaxing, what with the accommodation and all that healthy living to go with the running. I could do with some of that myself.

Blogger woes?

Blogger started to rebell again recently, preventing us from posting comments. If any of you are still having issues I'm afraid you'll have to do what your Mother told you never to do and accept Hobnobs from strangers. In trendy parlance it has something to do with accepting third party cookies. I use Internet Explorer and it involved reducing my cookie blocking by one level, from Medium to Low. 'Low' is the lowest level without accepting digestives, rich tea, garibaldi, nice - in fact the whole shebang, willy-nilly. At this level just the more decadent offerings, like those chocolate-laden Foxes luxury assortments, get rejected. I can see my waistline expanding already.

Another requirement to allow editing without being repeatedly logged out is to untick the 'Keep me signed in' box at the login page. Having to enter all your login details every time you access Blogger is a small price to pay for having it work as intended.

Alpro downgrade - BOOOO!

I bought fresh supplies of Alpro soya chocolate drink for next weekend's Round Rotherham and noticed to my disgust that the manufacturers have reduced its effectiveness as fuel. Sugar is now reduced by 15% to make it more healthy, but only if you're sedentary and don't need it in the first place. As ultra fuel it's probably been ruined. :-(

Mind over matter.

The following paragraph came to me when filling in the TV company's questionnaire for this year's Snowdonia Marathon on 29th October.

My advice to any runner, new or seasoned: “Never give up unless a physical predicament or injury makes it impossible to continue. The mind can be strong but it can also be very weak. Mental fortitude can help you to achieve what you never dreamed possible. Pain is only temporary but the satisfaction of a finish can last a lifetime“.

Woodbank Parkrun.

I ran my local 5k yesterday (23:22), and what a contrast to last week. Temperature was down and it drizzled. I ran to keep warm.

Grin ‘n’ Bear It 23mi. 01/10/2011.

Sunrise from Hepshaw.



'Phew wot a scortcha'. A week of Indian summer and temperatures into the high twenties culminated in a hot yet mercifully breezy Saturday for our tussle with the bog monster on the watershed between Manchester and Sheffield. I arrived nice and early to be greeted by the happy and ever smiling face of Ian Winterburn at the smart new base of the Woodhead Mountain Rescue Team. I commented on the three wind turbines close by. Ian told me they’d only gone up that week. That would explain why they weren’t turning.

I watched the sun rise over another wind farm in the distance as the entrants began to trickle in. There would be a 23-mile walk or run with an 08:00 start time for all (this has never been entirely clear and confusion still occurs not only for people who wish to run it but with some of the volunteers as well). There would also be a ~16-mile walk with an 08:00 start and a ~16-mile run (with longer loop around to the Daisy Lea Moor checkpoint) with a 10:00 start.

Mike D-H asked me to join him for a photo shoot for our distant friend Jan Danilo now in New Zealand. This was his stomping ground before he emigrated and I’m told he won the race last year. I had been tasked to take plenty of pictures. I hope they don’t make you too homesick, Jan.

As 8am approached there was no sign of a starter so the walkers began to wander informally down the track. At 8am just as the starter came out, the rest of us were already in pursuit to begin our 23-mile journey. All distances that follow are from Tracklogs and assume correct route choice. They don't apply to me. 'nuff said.

As an indication of the laid-back nature of the event I was able to run with the lead group as far as CP1 (Crookland Wood, 5.7mi.), by which time we were no longer in the lead. We had taken a long way around to the checkpoint. Phil G was the only one who was going the right way but was persuaded by the rest of us to take the wrong path. The pangs of guilt shall fester awhile.

Back on track and climbing Mickleden Edge I caught up again with Mike and Ken & Jenny W. The order was beginning to sort itself out now with the more capable runners breezing effortlessly ahead and out of sight, Phil being one of them (he never complained once about being led astray, incidentally). The sun warmed us and the breeze prevented overheating as we approached CP2 (Howden Edge, 9.1mi.) and the right turn onto the wide flat watershed and domain of the man-eating bogs. I caught up with someone with a brightly coloured flag draped on his back. I like bright colours and had to ask. It was a Lincolnshire flag to celebrate Lincolnshire Day, always on 1st October.

Lincolnshire flag for Lincolnshire Day.



Back to the task in hand, the terrain was beginning to look decidedly dodgy. I put my past experiences of The Fellsman to good use and stepped on NOTHING that didn't have blades of grass growing out of it. Having visible footprints on it gave further reassurance. An MRT cameraman loitered ominously, waiting for the last stricken gasps of a hapless victim. As I sneaked around the back to plan my route carefully, Mike caught up and performed a leap of faith, which the cameraman captured rather well in multiple exposures and is shown in Mike's report. Mike remarked at my infeasibly clean legs. My mincing and circumnavigating had obviously worked. I left him behind again as I ran ahead to CP3 (Loftshaw Clough Head, 12.5mi.) and another right turn, this time over Round Hill and across to the remains of Lady Cross, where Mike caught me up for the final time. A right turn along the track brought us quickly to CP4 (Lasche, 13.7mi.) and our only food stop. Half a banana did me.

Here you will die (probably).

Mike arrives at Lady Cross (remains of).



We crossed the busy A628 very carefully and headed towards Winscar Reservoir. I was beginning to feel the urge to walk while Mike was still running strongly. By the time we arrived at the brightly sunlit Winscar with flotillas of yachts, Mike was making up serious ground. He was soon out of sight. As I took more pictures, Ken and Jenny were the next ones to catch up for the final time. It was time to start doing my own thing and just get to the finish as best I could.

Winscar Reservoir.



CP5 (Harden, 16.6mi.) at the top end of Winscar came and I was onto the track left towards the old excavations. The first 16-mile runner in a Dark Peak vest overtook me (please excuse my ignorance; I was told who he was and that he's good, but I'm not well up on the fell-running fraternity). More runners overtook as I hit the Holme Valley Circular Walk and descended towards Hades (yes, really, check the map for yourself). I passed yet another depleted reservoir before climbing to Hade Edge and turning right up to CP6 (Daisy Lee Moor, 19.0mi.).

At this final checkpoint a runner I actually did know caught me up – Steve Lang. He was soon gone. The path took us through an overgrown field. I forgot that nettles can still do their worst to bare legs even in October. I hit the final track up and over the top, following my nose and another runner to eventually hit the lane at Upper Nab. I had deviated too far right and added yet more distance. A left turn down the road for a while and a right turn up the final track to Hepshaw brought me back to the finish in 4:35. With my slowdown and further navigational deviation I lost 18 minutes on Mike in the final 6 miles. Well done Mike with your strong finish.

There followed nearly three hours of chatting, tea drinking and relaxing outside in the sunshine. There was plenty of substantial food on offer, including big fat burgers in buns, baked potatoes, salad and more. I was happy with mushroom soup and a crust (well, I have been eating well recently). This is one excellent, friendly and enjoyable event that comes highly recommended.

Post-race chill in the heat of October.



Mike wrote an excellent account, linked again here. The best of the pictures I took are here. There's quite a crop this time. Fill your socks Jan!