Eat Your Heart Out Team Sky...

Now admittedly on Saturday 21^st July 2012 there were probably slightly more people thinking about the le Tour, Mr Wiggins’ sideburns and the maillot jaune than a small cycle track in Middlesbrough on Marton Road. However for those in the know Prissick Cycle Track was the only place to be! Mister Steven King Esq had gone to the trouble of organising a charity duathlon in aid of Teesside Hospice and a whole variety of individuals and teams from Patterclubbers to 7 year olds, Icycles to frighteningly serious looking club athletes had turned up to take advantage of his fine efforts (and the sunshine). (It should be noted at this point that Margaret, Peter & Julie were representing the I Runners, however as Peter wasn’t running Icycles seemed appropriate.)

Mr Steven King Esquire

An early arrival found said Mr King, and duck, looking slightly harassed. Actually Steve looked harassed; the duck looked, well like a duck! 

Apparently last minute changes to the categories had caused a lot of reworking of paperwork and a late night to boot. But all was well and the sun was shining. (Now I will probably mention that the sun was shining quite frequently as it has been quite an unusual occurrence so far this summer). But with the sunshine came the competitors,  43 starters in all, a combination of solo athletes, teams of two and a couple of teams of three. The route, a three(ish) Km run (once round the bike track and then off road around the park), then a 16 Km cycle (16 laps) and finished of with a 2(ish) Km run around the park. Soon everyone was assembled, assorted bikes on view (borrowed, bought and BMX), those of us that had borrowed bikes had a quick spin to make sure we could actually do it (they’re right, you never forget) and a quick lesson on changing gear, specifically changing down, which for me at least would be very necessary. A quick briefing and they were off...well most of them were off but a few didn’t realise and had to run a bit extra to catch up.                                                  

As the runners streamed off down the hill towards the back of the circuit, the remainder of the relay teams looked on, thankful that for a little while at least we didn’t have to do anything. As they came back up the hill, 1 km in we were even more thankful, it was very hot out there and the field had stretched out quite considerably. Never the less they stuck at it, streaming through transition and heading off to the park for the next two km. 11 minutes or so in the leaders where heading through transition, grabbing their bikes and setting off on the cycle leg. It should be pointed out at this point that a certain Harry Larkin, age 7, came through transition in 17 mins and got on his BMX(little wheels, knobbly tyres). Julie, the lead off woman for team Icycle came through shortly after and despite muddy legs and a certain glow around the cheeks (did I mention that despite the sunshine the park run leg was really rather marshy) successfully handed me the metaphorical baton and I was off on my bike. At this point I realised that I am not and will never be Bradley Wiggins, in fact I felt more akin to the little man on the motorised scooter at the front of the Kierin. But I pedalled hard, not hard enough though, the front runners were sweeping by me as if I were standing still. Then I reached the bottom turn on the circuit and I very nearly was. Now I know that Le Tour goes over the Alps and what have you, but I had to pedal up that hill 16 times before I was finished, it got so bad I took cheer from passing Harry and Lily (Lily Quinn – slightly bigger tyres than Harry, still on a mountain bike though).

Harry Larkin & Lily Quinn

future Olympians!

Then there was the problem of counting – 16 laps, my dear team mates helpfully shouted out the laps as I went past (although they admitted later to having missed me on at least one occasion) but after what seemed like an eternity I got to pass the torch to Ms Super Style herself, Margaret Myers, the third member of team Icycle and the one charged with bringing home the bacon. Now I’m fairly certain at this point that the winner had finished and several others too, but we carried on. Out round the park went Margaret, immaculate style as usual, eating up the ground as she went. All too soon we were shouting ourselves silly, cheering finishers over the line and saving a particularly big cheer for Margaret who of course finished in fine style. Team  Icycle finished in 1 hour 9 mins , 35 th position and shattered! There was still enough breath left to cheer Harry and Lily (future Olympians if ever there were any, mark my words) over the line in an amazing 1 hr 18 mins.

Barbara & Hilary bring "style" to the occasion

Breath caught, sandwiches eaten (thank you Barbara and Hilary, who may I say were not only colour coordinated but wearing union jack specs too) it was time for a “fun” Devil Take the Hindmost. (Basically everybody rides round the track and the last one each lap drops out), there was some concern on the starting line that the size of the field meant it would go on forever, so adjustments were made and more would drop out each lap. Your intrepid correspondent made it to the end of lap two, and to be honest was lucky to get that far. The big boys then made a proper race of it until there were two left for the final sprint finish. Frivolities over it was time for the prize giving and Steve’s hard work the night before meant that everybody was rewarded with a prize of some sort. Congratulations to everyone who took part from first to last it was a great effort. Over £500 was raised for Teesside Hospice and lots of people had lots of fun. Particular thanks to Steve King for organising what hopefully is the first of what will become and annual event.

          Team Icycle                                                                                                           Team 138

Photos courtesy of Karen Larkin

They lull you into a false sense of security...and then they lie to you (Kilburn 7 8th July 2012)

 “Fast first mile, then stiff half mile climb before downhill through historic Coxwold, turning left at cross roads, some fast stretches before Bylands Abbey, turning left at the Abbey, a mile slog up to Oldstead with another climb from the village. The last two miles are undulating with very fast finish from the Kilburn sign to The Foresters.”

This innocuous paragraph is the route for the Kilburn 7 mile road race. Now various people had told me that this was a lovely race, a bit tough, but beautiful scenery and best of all...it finishes at a pub. So I agreed, now I must stress, I agreed on the descriptions people gave me, I hadn’t seen the paragraph above at that point. But I’ll admit, I agreed. Sent of my money, got my race number and a piece of paper with various bits of information, including the route description.

I should have started to worry when I read it; “Stiff half mile climb” has a slightly worrying ring to it, “a mile slog” even more so. But my friends had told me it was a lovely run and you should trust your friends shouldn’t you?

Kilburn, for those of you that don’t know it is situated in Hambleton, North Yorkshire. It sits at the base of the Hambleton Hills and is overlooked by a giant white chalk horse to which it gives it name. The horse is situated on the southern flank of Sutton Bank, carved into the hillside and can be seen from miles around. Now I know how steep Sutton Bank is, I drive up it often enough. Caravans aren’t allowed up there, lorries regularly get stuck on it...its steep! Yet I didn’t give it a thought, my friends said it was a nice run and I trust my friends.

(The other less ominous bit of info about Kilburn is that was the home of Robert “Mousey” Thompson, a furniture maker from the early 20^th Century, whose signature mouse can be found carved into furniture all over the world, including Westminster Abbey. There is a workshop and museum still in the village which is well worth visiting.)

The other thing that should be mentioned at this point is the British Summer, only Britain can have a hosepipe ban and floods at the same time. Last week it was the turn of the floods. To be honest the Friday before the race I was giving serious thought to taking my canoe, and yes, it was that bad! Thunder, lightening, lost power, we had it all and although Noah wasn’t quite sailing down the street, he was probably loosening the mooring ropes. To be honest, running in the rain is quite nice though, it cools you down and as long as you are road running it doesn’t cause too many problems. So when the forecast said it was going to be overcast with a chance of showers on Sunday I was ok with that. Like my friends, the weather forecast lied!

Sunday did indeed dawn overcast; however as we drove down to Kilburn the clouds started to lift, and the sun came out, and by the time we got there it was hot. Warm ups seemed a little superfluous given the temperature, but we duly did ours, and realised this was going to be an uncomfortable afternoon. Even the site of kids on Unicycles didn’t manage to completely dispel the rising sense of unease (don’t ask but they were called the Tholthorpe Jugglers). So with a feeling of impending doom we lined up at the start and we were off. Now the plan was 10 minute miles, quite a comfortable pace or so we thought, an alarmingly large number of people passed us on the “fast first mile” but we reassured ourselves that they’d pay for it later, and indeed some of them did, particularly when we hit the “stiff half mile climb”. I have to accept that it was half a mile, but it most certainly didn’t feel it. But the comfort was there were only three climbs on the route (read the route definitely only three), so this meant a third of the climbing was over and done with. It was notable that the “fast stretches before Bylands Abbey” never really materialised for us. Slow and steady wins the race though, or so they say. At the Abbey a welcome drink station, however it was situated at the foot of the “mile slog up to Oldstead”, this led to an interesting predicament, is it possible to run uphill, whilst drinking from a plastic cup and not inhale water through your nose. The answer appears to be no; so pouring it over your head is a much easier choice. This “mile slog up to Oldstead” by the way, was more akin to the North Face of the Eiger...but we ran up it, every... single...step! Now the next part of the route description was correct – there was indeed” another climb from the village”, indeed, it climbed and climbed and climbed. I should point out that the highlight of this climb was managing to pass the 70+ year old lady from Thirsk who was also running it; we have to take our victories where we find them!

And climbed!

And then we hit the “undulating” last two miles, think a series of hills one after another, it was like some demonic version of “Over the Sticks” without the wooden horses or the Wurlitzer music... Yet the mantra, downhill, fast finish, downhill, fast finished pulled us on and on – this 7 mile race seemed to be a little Tardisesque – i.e. more miles on the inside than on the outside!

Finally we hit the “very fast finish”, and in no time the joys of gravity took over, feet fairly flying we headed down towards the village, and the pub. To be met by a tractor with a silage tank on the back blocking the road, brakes on, sideways step, quick jog in place and we were by – stretching tired legs out into a semblance of a sprint to cross the line. We didn’t manage ten minute miles, well we might have managed one or two, but the grand total was slightly higher, no matter, we were finished, our legs could now wobble and fail us, we could be greeted by our loved ones and our friends (including the ones that lied) before making our way to the village hall for tea and sandwiches. How British is that? No medals or t shirts for us, but they put on a lovely plate of sarnies and a brew that tasted as good as any pint.

The run was over, my friends had lied to me, yet I found I didn’t care, something tells me I might be going back again next year.

PS the old lady was only 10 minutes behind me at the finish.

PPS According to a knowledgeable source, the name Kilburn is derived from Chilburn meaning cool/cold stream. Given the heat of the day there’s a certain irony in that.

The Pit Stop and the I Run Clan

Photo courtesy of Sid Rudd & Billingham Marsh House Harriers website

It was a storm tossed night that the I Run clan set forth, not a night for the faint hearted, the rain had been coming down in torrents and the clouds loomed ominous and brooding all around as they approached their goal. Bereft of their leader, Rosanne, cruelly struck down by malaise days before the confrontation (some say by a congestion of the lungs, others nodded wisely and pointed to an excess  of pleasure in the capitol four days prior) this merry band of red clad warriors stoutly determined to do her proud. And surely the gods of running were smiling on their brave endeavour as approaching their final destination, the clouds parted and mother sun did her best to warm their bones in preparation for the trials ahead. Indeed, a rainbow heralded the start of the conflict; an omen some claimed later, that even nature looked favourably on their efforts.

The goal three laps, 10 kilometres in total, of the circuit known as Croft. Normally reserved for screaming chariots, tonight was a different race, sheer endurance, sweat and indeed tears would see the winners on this day. At the off the Clan rubbed shoulders with the elite of many other clans, it was spotted that not a few of the I Run Clans members were sporting other colours, no matter! We knew who they were, we knew they were of our blood and whatever colours they wore they were still of our kind. The start, too fast in the heat that now enveloped the scene, stretched out the ranks, leaving the elite, on wind fast feet pulling away, yet our doughty warriors stuck to their task. One foot in front of another, they determined to fulfil the task ahead .

Lap one, the clans fast scouts, Craig, Vinny and Megan spied out the land, keeping close eye on the opposition, protecting from the front and laying down the path for the rest to follow. Andy, determined, true, not far behind them – protecting their flanks  and forging the bridgehead for the standard bearers of Phil, Kenny and Steve,. And the rest of us ploughed on, by lap two, all determinedly battling our own inner demons, putting one foot in front of the other, challenging ourselves to keep going – Pauline, Alyson, the Julies and the Margarets all surged on – more and more of the clan, pounding the black tarmac into submission. Izzy without her faithful hound this night ran, as did Jen, Jennifer, Lucy, Kelly, Catherine and Bill, all proudly upholding the tradition of never give in.

By lap three the gaps were beginning to show, yet the brave I Runners never gave up. Determination and in some cases bright red running shoes kept them going, Kas, Maggie, Hamzah, Michelle and Judith each bearing the banner of the clan in front of them as they forced themselves to tread the final yards towards the finish. And at the end, amongst the sprawled bodies of the exhausted and the cup bearers handing out the sweet water of success they came to cross the final line, as each passed the cheers grew, the other clans, amazed at the vehemence of support could only look on as the I Run’s clan of warriors grew with each finish, and the noise that they created  grew ever more deafening, cheering each one home to the arms of their family as they finished their great trial, and finally there were those who had never run this test before, proving to themselves their capabilities where perhaps greater than they realised and as Caroline and Cristina completed the clans numbers it was evident that nobody was going to stop us now, because we were indeed having a good time.