Plain Crazy 2019

We drove to Warminster on a dull and cool morning for Plain Crazy, advertised as a hilly, cold, scenic, desolate and windy 12.5 race over Salisbury Plain.  We knew nothing more about it; I'd entered it on the recommendation of my friend Keith Spiers.

The marshalling for cars was really non-existent, but we found a space very close to the start on a rather bleak military housing estate, and on jogging around the place found that was a chillier and windier day than I'd expected, and put on a base layer and a hat.  We had a hopeless briefing with inadequate equipment and a pair of barking dogs which meant that we didn't hear any of it.

We eventually set off on a quick start.  After a short way we were climbing hills on to the downs ad several runners fell back.  Then on to some slippery soft ground for about 3k, in which I was cursing my choice of road shoes and trying to stay upright on some fierce hills.

Togged up for the start

At the top of the hill we were onto a hard track which signalled the end of the cross-country element but which heralded the start of an hour or so of bleak, windswept and almost entirely lonely running.  The landscape was remarkably featureless, which meant that whole minutes would pass by with the landscape looking almost exactly the same.  Three guys whom I'd overtaken in the early stages cruised past me, which also precluded any real joy or exhilaration.

The really tough stretch was between 14 and 17k, which was a remorseless drag up a barren hillside into a stiff breeze - I was glad of my layers and my hat.  I knew there was someone behind me but I didn't dare look round.  I chugged away and pushed hard down the final hill into Warminster.  The signage at the finish wasn't great and I had a couple of sinking moments of feeling lost.  I hauled myself over the line in 12th place and 1st M50 in 1:25:05.  Here are my stats.

Final heave

The results were sent as a PDF

I came away with a sense of anticlimax.  I really had no notion of how well or badly I'd done on a rather barren and lonely run where I knew nobody else.  It's always good to explore a new bit of geography, but this was not the heartiest of outings.

A tough outing

Hogs Back race 2019

Today was part 2 of a rather bonkers weekend.  Alarm at 6, in the car by 6:50 and off to the Loseley Estate near Guildford for the 7-mile Hogs Back road race.  After some tricky car parking shenanigans we met up with Neil and Ali, and by the time we'd stashed our bags the 9am start was almost upon us.

My legs were horribly heavy after yesterday's half, and my left hamstring was creaking with every step.  I ran as briskly as my legs would allow.  I'd studied the route profile beforehand and knew there would be a modest hill followed by a much bigger hill.  This was deceptive; the first one was a real stinger of a hill, really steep and long; the second, which takes you up the Hogs Back, was a steady and entirely manageable incline.

Hill 1 hard, hill 2 easy

There was a long downhill stretch off the Hogs Back, during which I overtook a couple of guys.  One of them stayed on my tail throughout the final third of the race and then expertly edged forward.  Cue two others to glide ahead. I knew we must be close to the finish line and I pushed hard, but there was very little in the tank.

I made it over the line in 45:46, 31st place and 3rd M50.  I was happy enough with that - here are my stats.  Not very sensible running a fast road race the day after a tough half... I'm thankful to get away reasonably intact.

Four Hares go mad in Loseley... but we never found the icecream

Is this the real life, or is this just fantasy?

Lost again: Salisbury Plain half marathon 2019

The morning didn't start terribly well.  I forgot to bring my watch and my race number and I packed the wrong backpack (sorry love).  We met up with Rollo and Susie at the start area, a rather drab patch of hard standing outside Tidworth military town, worried about what to wear on a cool morning, got warmed up and proceeded to the start line.

Susie, Rollo and the lovely Mrs S at the start

We set off, and a lady strapped to a big dog whooshed ahead, rapidly fading after a few hundred metres.  Every human-plus-dog combo I've encountered does the same.  After a couple of minutes I was ahead of the pack, trying to keep a cool head in the early stages.

Before long I caught the back of the marathon runners who had started ten minutes before us.  I moved through the field and made to follow everyone on a right turn at a crossroads in the track, luckily just catching a marshal shouting 'full marathon this way'. Yes, she confirmed - left turn for the half.  Phew, that was close.

The signs were little yellow flags on the ground. I was on my own, and I kept checking the path obsessively for them, as they were quite subtle.  I was feeling OK and progressing well. I passed the halfway point, crossed a road and checked out a big hill ahead. I heaved my way up and then down the other side.  Where are those flags, I asked myself. Then I hit a T-junction, saw no flags and I knew I'd gone wrong.

Thankfully I had loaded the route onto OS Maps and I could see that a left turn would take me back to the route by drawing the third side of a square, nonetheless more effective than tracing my steps. Nothing gets my adrenaline pumping quite so much as getting lost on a race, and I blasted the next few km, overtaking several runners and trying to reclaim as much territory as I could.

In the end I ran about a mile more than I should have, with about 80m extra climb.  I finished in second place.  I was annoyed; not so much at losing my position as getting lost despite my best efforts.  The final comedy moment of the race was when a young girl rushed past me, colliding with my arm and causing my trophy to fall to the ground and break. It glued together fine.

Susie and then Rollo both finished, looking strong.  Well done Rollo - this was a tough debut half.  A funny old morning, but apart from the navigational hiccough, I was pleased with my pacing.  Here are the results and here are my stats... and check out the moment when I erred and strayed from my way like a lost sheep.

The finishers

Medal and broken trophy... it mended fine

Endurancelife CTS Dorset, 2019

A cold and overcast start to the day, but thankfully it was dry with high clouds, and the Purbeck landscape was looking terrific.  The lovely Mrs S and I arrived in good time and the organisation was as efficient and capable as ever.

Awaiting the race briefing

I wouldn't be jumping at the finish

I was here for the loosely-termed half marathon for the second year in succession, but the course was different to last year, with the start and finish away from Lulworth village.  This meant that the race didn't begin with the brutal set of steps, but instead a gentle incline.  I was in 8th place at the start, then up to 6th, and then as we turned and headed east on the coastal path I was overtaken on the tricky downhills at least once and I lost count as we started joining up with the marathon runners.  I was well focused, to the point that I was oblivious to Mrs S shouting and waving as I ran through Lulworth (sorry love).

Classic Purbeck scenery

The first section west of Lulworth was the warm-up; the real excitement happens on the eastern side.  I remembered and anticipated those monstrous hills with some trepidation.  But - despite all the warnings of wet conditions - the terrain was generally firm going and the hills around Mupe Bay and Worbarrow Bay were exhilarating.  Get into gear, hands on thighs, breathe into the steps and up you go; avoid the steps, seek out the grass, small quick steps in a zigzag motion and back down again.  I was loving it.

Then a stretch of gravel track to Tyneham and a long slope back up on the ridge for the journey back west.  I was starting to feel it in my legs but all was good.  I exchanged hellos to Tam, Liz and Em on the return leg and before long saw Lulworth ahead.  Unlike last year, we were diverted downhill to Lulworth Cove for a section of tough running on the shingle, and then onto the final section.

I had failed to observe my own rule of knowing your finish.  I had assumed we'd be heading behind the coastal ridge up to the finish field, but oh no - it was up the long steps, and I was starting to really tire.  I could now see the finish arch to my right - not long now.  Wrong!  We were sent back down to Durdle Door and then up a dry valley for a long climb to the finish with the 10k runners.

I seemed to be moving more and more slowly despite giving it everything.  And then there was Mrs S cheering my on and following me uphill.  I was barely moving, and was terrified that she was going to walk ahead of my feeble running.  100m to go, and Josef, who had overtaken me in the early stages, suddenly bombed past me and I couldn't answer him.  What I hadn't realised was that I'd overaken him just a few seconds before and galvanised him ahead into third place - check out our tussle on Strava.

The endless final hill

So I was fourth place in 2:44:27, and very happy with that - not least as we could get away without waiting for the presentation.  Here are the results, and here are my stats.  A long and full-blooded 28km half marathon with a heartbreaker of a finish... absolutely tremendous!