Category Archives: Running

Winchester Sunday morning run

16 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by in England, Running, Writing

≈ 18 Comments

I treated myself to a day off writing – my WIP will reach its conclusion in the next couple of days. Instead I pulled on my (now slightly smelly) running gear and headed off on a sunny morning.

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City Bridge

To date I’ve been happy enough to do circuits of the neighbouring facilities briefly described in my last post, but this morning I headed to the southern edge of the compact city centre to reacquaint myself with the water meadows. The trails out that way are tailor-made for pedestrians. DSCN0410Bikes not so much though they are well catered for further out. Past Wolvesey Castle (970), the Hospital of St Cross (1132) and Winchester College (1382), this part of the country would be easily recognisable to those medieval folk if they were to pop back today for a visit.

The River Itchen splits into two branches and winds its way gently, reluctantly, towards the sea at Southampton.DSCN0412

Leaving the water meadows one joins the cycle network. One curiosity is Five Bridges Road, running straight across the meadows, but which seems to have been extinguished as a highway, leaving it free of traffic. This was possibly at the same time as the controversial M3 works back in the 1990s.

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Five Bridges Road, open for runners 🙂

 

 

 

Hockley railway viaduct was abandoned as part of the Beeching cuts in 1963. It has particular links to D-Day with huge amounts of hardware and troops using the route to the south coast in the preceding 12 months. Happily it has been recently restored and made available to the cycle network.

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Hockley Viaduct

Finally, a bit of hill training up St Catherine’s Hill, an ancient hill fort, which gives great views of Winchester and the surrounding land.

 

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St Catherine’s Hill – it’s gotta be done…

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…just for the view.

 

 

 

 

 

 

(No Winchester Cathedral yet – that will be my final stop before flying home.)

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St Ouen, Jersey, on the run

24 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by in Jersey, Running, Writing

≈ 21 Comments

It’s been a while since I did one of these Smilebox things. There’s nothing quite like heading out into Jersey’s lanes on a summer morning, but before it gets too warm.

Here I manage a gentle 11 miles or so, stopping frequently for a photo op, or a chat with friends. St Ouen is a country parish in the north-west of Jersey. There’s an old joke that you need a passport to cross the parish border. Certainly St Ouen marches to the beat of a slower drum.

So join me for a few minutes on a virtual run.

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Running Up That Hill.

11 Monday Dec 2017

Posted by in Jersey local history, Running

≈ 27 Comments

I’ve peppered this post with a selection of Jersey pics taken during 2017. I hope you like them. Hover for caption.

Well the road racing is just about done for another year here in Jersey, C.I. I previewed the year from a personal viewpoint last New Year’s Eve. How has it turned out? Maybe I’ll be generous and give myself 7 out of 10.

 

Plemont – Greve de Lecq cliffpath, other Channel Islands in the distance
Farmyard, no renovations here.

I’ve run regularly, both with my social group the Jersey Joggers and solo. And I’ve taken part in most of the races Jersey’s limited running scene has to offer. This mixture of easy jogging and harder work is, I think, the best way when you’re in your 60s. Run hard all the time and injuries will transpire. Jog slowly everywhere and you’ll only ever be any good at…jogging slowly.

 

Ancient dolmen, any excuse to stop running.
Corbiere Station renovation – like it? (I do.)

So, my first tangible achievement is that I’m on course to complete 1,000 miles for the year, albeit that’s only likely to be reached in the last few days of December. It will be only the fifth time I’ll have reached that goal after 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2015.

 

Corbiere Station, much as seen by train passengers 1885 – 1935
St Ouen’s Bay

So how have I done in the races? 12 months ago I said that I was going to have a crack at challenging my PBs. On that measure, not so good. Appallingly I haven’t broken 25 minutes for 5k all year (my PB remains 22.51). In my defence these 5k club races are held in the evenings and my energy levels are definitely low at that time of day. But that 25min mark is out of step with my other timed distances.

 

St John’s Church
North coast scene, taken from Sorel Point

A couple of good 10ks, both under 52mins. A couple of ‘ok’ Half Marathons – just outside two hours though I ought to be nearer 1.55.

 

South coast looking towards Corbiere (ignore amateurish shadows)

In the early part of the year my body let me down badly for six weeks or so. (I’ve encountered similar issues several times over the years and they remain unexplained.) Sadly, my only off-Island race, the Southampton Half-Marathon was one of those bad ones. I just couldn’t get going, my race was going from bad to worse, and I stepped off the course at the four-mile mark. At least it was a nice day for a walk back to town. A few weeks later I struggled to complete the tough 8.1 mile Durrell Challenge. But gradually I snapped out of that bad period.

 

In the woods, St Peter.
Fairy house

My break in Cork, Ireland kick-started my running year with some great long morning runs around the Lee estuary area. I really started to enjoy running and racing again. I love race day, being part of the running community. And doing the races is the one occasion where you test your body to its limits.

 

Our lovely Jerseys
Watch out for the farmer

And the challenge of staying ahead of newer, mostly younger runners, and one or two long-time friendly rivals is a great incentive to stick at it for as long as I can.

 

Grouville meadow
Water pump, Grouville
An off-road track? Just made for exploring.

And 2018 will see me step into a new age band where I’ll be one of the youngest again! I’m not finished with this malarkey just yet.

Do Not Go Gentle

13 Monday Mar 2017

Posted by in Jersey, Channel Islands, Running, Writing

≈ 30 Comments

We meet most Sunday mornings. She is much older than me but I don’t care. Funny how she always seems surprised as I gasp ‘Good morning’, as if she’d never seen me before. ‘Good morning’, she answers back. Then we are apart again.

Shuffling along with her stick, skirting Grouville Common, set on a destination unbeknown to me. To her daughter’s house maybe. A cup of tea and a chat. Looks forward to seeing her grandchildren.

She certainly has a past, a long one too. What stories could she tell if I were to fall into conversation with her? Of her Jersey childhood, the village school, visits to the nearby beach, a weekly visit to the town of St Helier. Then the arrival of the Germans and the five long years of hardship before the Liberation. Love, marriage, a family. Maybe none of the above. I know nothing about her.100_0870

Perhaps she was a champion swimmer as a young lady. She wishes someone would ask her about her medals. Now she walks to keep fit, unbelieving that her body could ever let her down.

And does she know, or care, that this puffing stranger is also raging against the dying of the light? One day, sooner or later, we’ll meet no more.

I wonder who will let the other down?

Take The Next Step – Jersey Marathon 2015

08 Thursday Oct 2015

Posted by in Jersey, Running

≈ 59 Comments

After Longford 2008 and Cork 2010 (drawing a veil over two previous ignominious DNFs) I declared ‘never again!’ Two miles from the end of Jersey 2015 I fervently wished I had stuck to that. That two miles could have been two hundred as far as I was concerned.
I’ve done OK these last 16 months. I’ve totally reappraised my eating and drinking habits, lost a bunch of weight, have trained and raced well. In fact in my 63rd year I’ve set a new PB (PR in the US) for 5k and have come close to doing likewise for 10k. So, deciding that life’s too short for regrets I put my name down for the 10th running of the present incarnation of the Jersey Marathon.
Now, it must be said I’m no runner. I only started 13 years ago to regain a bit of fitness and grew to enjoy it without ever getting beyond the ‘respectable’ mark. Still I had hopes of getting inside my previous best mark of 4:27, a rate of 10-minute miling.
Jonathan Edwards started the race - pic Matt Porteous

Jonathan Edwards started the race – pic Matt Porteous

So, four miles in and averaging 9.21m/m. In fact, with the exception of a sharp uphill section in Mile 5 I didn’t slip into 10-minute miling until the second half of the race. A mistake? Possibly. But sometimes you just go with your gut feeling. It was a perfect day for running, mercifully the cloud cover remained keeping the temperature down and I was enjoying the great race experience. As well as the individual marathon there is a team relay. The result is that it’s a dynamic experience for runners and spectators. The support throughout from the Jersey public was awesome, the best I’ve experienced.
The eventual winner Aleskey (Russia) - pic Matt Porteous

The eventual winner Aleskey (Russia) – pic Matt Porteous

They say – and how true it is – that the second half of a marathon starts at 20 miles. From Mile 15 I had to start to dig deep and from Mile 20 it was becoming a serious challenge. Never a thought of quitting though – you find ways and means from that point. Thankfully there’s a downhill section bringing the runners down to St Aubin with three and a half to go. Another painful mile and my legs done packed up on me. For the first time in a marathon I was reduced to alternate walking and running. The mainly younger, fitter relay runners streamed by together with a number of marathoners. Many had words of encouragement to me and others as they did so.
The leaders in Waterworks Valley having dropped me - pic Matt Porteous

The leaders in Waterworks Valley having dropped me – pic Matt Porteous

There are many examples of battling through the pain barrier. Today once again it was Anthony Lewis a local journalist who suffered a catastrophic stroke several years back. It is an achievement for him to manage one painful step. Today he pushed his body to a half-marathon in six hours.
The ‘central governor’ theory propounded by Tim Noakes is interesting. It holds that the mind protects us from over-exertion by programming our muscles accordingly. The trick is to over-ride the theory. Thus, with the finish at last only a few hundred yards away all the pain slipped away and I was striding like a champion down Conway Street, Commercial Street and Wharf Street lined with fantastic support to finally make the finish line at the Weighbridge in a chip time of 4:34.31 and 15th M60.
No longer running tall, relaxed, smiling

No longer running tall, relaxed, smiling

And I’m happy to say, slow or not, I still beat my beautiful and very fit daughter Emma (26) who finished her very first marathon.
Yes I’m pleased I gave it a shot but – never again. My mile splits which tell a tale were
9.17
8.48
9.34
9.45
10.37
9.38
9.37
9.30
9.40
9.32
10.06
9.54
9.38
10.00
10.00
10.26
10.26
10.05
10.50
10.35
10.57
11.07
11.10
14.13
14.30
12.26

Jersey Jogging

22 Saturday Aug 2015

Posted by in Jersey, Running

≈ 27 Comments

My blogger friend Jean over at Social Bridges calls it ‘Phunning’. At my speed it’s more like ‘Phogging’. Join me in the gentlest of four-milers on a sunny Saturday morning. Click on the first image to open the gallery.

Jersey Half Marathon 16 Nov 2014

16 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by in Running

≈ 33 Comments

When I first started blogging back in the mists of time (2003-ish, pre-Wordpress) it was purely about athletics and running. The emphasis changed over the years and now it is of course mainly a writer’s blog.

Roy Half 2014-11-16

Not the winner

I was never much good as a runner but I started to approach something like competence in 2010, the year I set all my PBs. It’s been pretty much downhill since then. I got older, did less miles, put on a fair bit of weight.

In July I started to turn things around, but it was back in May 2011 that I last ran a Half-Marathon. I therefore started with a bit of trepidation this morning. Although my PB is (and will remain) 1:46 I was hoping for 2:10 with a stretch target of 2:00. A final result of 2:05 was pretty satisfactory.

My running buddy Ella (in red) and her friend Rebecca, running her first Half.

My running buddy Ella (in red) and her friend Rebecca, running her first Half.

I set off cautiously – there are a series of little uphills in miles 2 & 3. Then I fell in with Marie and we chatted and trotted along steadily up to the 7-mile marker at Gorey Pier. I felt OK so decided to see what I could do. I was able to pick it up significantly – and it’s always nice to pick other runners off. I timed it nicely for a final effort on the track only to find that, due to a re-measure, you now do a lap and a half on the track to finish 😦 But I was happy enough to have come through a bit of a test. Next target is 1:57 in the late Spring. Mile splits as follows.

9.25
10.30 hills
10.16 hills
9.41
10.06
9.36
9.49
9.07
9.14
9.13
8.57 🙂
9.04
9.09

Ancient trails and woolly mammoths

19 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by in Jersey, Jersey local history, Running

≈ 19 Comments

With the fine weather and the holiday season upon us our band of Jersey Joggers has become rather thin. Five of us set out this morning in the north-west of the Island, in the parish of St Ouen about which I’ve written in the past. Insofar as you can find isolation on a 9 x 5 mile island St Ouen provides it. Times past there were folk that never travelled from here to the bright lights of the capital, St Helier, let alone further abroad. And today in an hour we barely saw a soul.

St Ouen's Bay from the escarpment

St Ouen’s Bay from the escarpment

The land hereabouts rises from the sea up an escarpment to the higher ground on which lies rich farmland. One way up the escarpment is to take one of the well-hidden ‘donkey tracks’ and this is what we did this morning. Steep and sandy, one is soon rewarded when, puffing and hands on hips, the high ground is reached and St Ouen’s Bay glistens behind you in the morning sun. Another barely-used trail follows. One wonders just how old these sandy trails are and for what purpose they were used in years gone by.

Even when one reaches the tarmacked lanes there is little sign of life, just the odd cow or horse startled to see gaily-coloured, sweaty strangers. Lore has it that you need to show your passport at the parish border and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if an old farmer jumped out and demanded we do just that.

Back down the quiet lanes to sea level after a life-affirming few miles.

La Cotte de St Brelade
There is an archaeological fortnight going on and in the late afternoon I took the opportunity to join a guided visit to this well-known site. Well-known but infrequently visited as you need the agility of a goat to access it at low tide across a boulder-strewn beach and and a rocky climb to the site itself. Kudos to the (even older) folk that gallantly struggled and conquered.

La Cotte, we knew, is one of the most important archaeological sites in northern Europe. It has yielded thousands of finds that evidence occupation by Neanderthal Man from 250,000 years ago, up to when the Neanderthals were replaced by modern man.

tonysmusings.blogspot.com

tonysmusings.blogspot.com

It was fascinating to have two eminent archaeologists familiar with the site to put it all into context – the way successive ‘cold’ and ‘warm’ periods affected the sea level and therefore the mineral deposits and erosion. The layers of sediment, clearly seen, were explained as was the history of excavation at the site. Despite the importance of the place there remains much which remains to be done. Also there is need of a plan to protect what has been exposed over the years.

Sadly the experts debunked one myth, hereunto held true by every Jersey child. Although mammoth remains have been found in profusion they were not driven over the cliff to their doom. Rather they were hunted on the lowlands at a period where the sea level was much lower.

Truly I live in a wonderful place.

Jersey Jogging With a Smile

07 Friday Mar 2014

Posted by in Coaching, Jersey, Running

≈ 30 Comments

Coaching any sport is a labour of love. Very few outside the very best in their field do it for the money. The day you fall out of love with coaching is the day you pack it in. Your dissatisfaction and lack of enjoyment will soon spread to your coachees.

I was reminded of how much I enjoy coaching on Wednesday evening. On the final night of Jersey Joggers’ Couch to 5k programme, for adult beginners, we had no less than 45 start and finish their target 5k run through the dark roads and lanes of St Clement. Probably 50% were first-timers with the others generally returners to running after a long layoff.

I guess this is about the 9th or 10th programme of this type I’ve led. It was by some distance the largest group. I don’t know where everyone comes from, really I don’t. I was expecting double figures considering it was the 3rd programme in 14 months, but we regularly had 40+ turn out in sometimes miserable conditions on the Esplanade on weekday evenings. We lost a few, inevitably, through injury and other commitments but what a great turnout for the finale!

And most stayed for the Celebration party at Partners Restaurant, as you can see. I’m the worried, big one in the brown T-shirt.Partners Mar 14

Everybody enjoyed the programme, I certainly enjoyed working with everybody and met some lovely people. Ominously there are a significant few who are looking forward to doing it all over again in the autumn. That’s not quite the idea but I still like seeing familiar faces on these courses.

So onwards with an extension programme to prepare those who wish for a 10k on 6th April, then we’ll see what will transpire.

Why old blokes shouldn’t sprint

07 Sunday Apr 2013

Posted by in Coaching, Running, Writing

≈ 15 Comments

I’ve always wondered what a pulled hamstring feels like. All my life I’ve been reading about footballers and athletes in particular, highly-trained creatures, succumbing to a hamstring injury which keeps them out of action often for several weeks, depending on severity. Ryan Giggs and Michael Owen are examples of world-class footballers who have spent as much time on the physio’s table as the pitch whilst accepting their eye-watering salaries.

Ryan Giggs in familiar circumstances

Ryan Giggs in familiar circumstances

And, in my 61st year, having played most sports under the sun, I’d never been on the end of such an injury. Until this morning.

One of my greatest pleasures is in coaching the Jersey Spartan AC Minis, children aged 8-11. This morning on (Alleluia!) a fine day we’d had a good session of hurdles and high jump. Then we split the young athletes into teams of four for a sprint relay to finish off the morning. But, if the number of children don’t divide by four, grown-ups have to be commandeered to make up the teams.

That was how I ended up anchoring Team Eight, hoping to bring us home victorious in Usain Bolt style.

A proper relay team

A proper relay team

The first race went fine, but we were fourth. With a few minutes to spare I ordered a re-race. This time I put my faith in my incoming runner, a commandeered parent. I set off, extended my hand behind me and ‘plop’ in went the baton, a perfect hand-off.

I was in second place but confident I could overtake the little girl in the lead. But heck, she wasn’t giving in that easily.

And then it happened. With yards to go I made my final effort then – bang – it was like I’d been shot in the leg. I staggered across the line, high-fived the victor, and wondered if recovery is possible before the Spring 10k race next Sunday 😦Ambulance