Harry's Blog 5 12/03/17

500 miles run since the New Year, and now less than 6 weeks to go.

After the last slightly downbeat blog where I was worried about my pace, I was nervous about how I would do in the Cambridge half. I had come agonisingly close to 90 minutes in the Oxford half, and hoped that the marathon training would be enough to sneak me under. This nervousness translated to fretting about how to keep warm at the start in the forecast cold rain and wind and worrying about forgetting something important.

I can’t improve on Dominic Wallace’s excellent race report. It was the first time I had tried wearing a bin bag, but it did take the edge of the wind chill. Kieren sniffed out the urinals – a few long gutters at a height that catered for most behind some modesty screens. He was taken with the design he almost took a picture, which might not have gone down well. Fortunately it is much warmer in a crowded starting pen, where I started with Kieren who was also targeting a similar time. The rain slowly soaked my feet as we headed out through the city centre, and the wind was generally against us, but we managed to get to half way out in Grantchester about a minute up. With a more favourable wind we made it back to the city centre in good time – we still hadn’t seen the pacers who started behind us. Near the finish there was mile or so heading back into the wind, where Kieren pushed on ahead, which was hard work. Fortunately wind and slope then made for a fast finish. Official time 1:27:28; all the training had been having an effect, I’d posted a PB I would be happy to take to my grave. The sun cream in the goody bag was a bit random given the weather, but there was a nice unfussy weighty medal. Maybe it was the PB, but the weather didn’t seem dampen the event for me as I had feared, though as Dominic will attest, make sure you bring the right bin bag type to fit your shoulders in, a towel, plenty of dry clothing and dry shoes for the journey home.

I was in Sweden with work the next week, and just about squeezed my running kit into my hand luggage. The weather turned out to be colder than forecast, so my evening 12k in sub-zero had to be quicker to stop my toes getting cold. Fortunately I managed to pick a simple route heading out North on the seafront from Helsingborg, passing plenty of Swedes out running in high viz and lights. It would be perfect for Sweden’s second parkrun.

Back in the UK I needed to make up the miles for the week. It was just getting light enough to run back from work along the canal, which I much prefer to running in, as I reminded myself the next morning. I was going to do a long run on Sunday, but the weather forecast was for rain all day, so I switched to Saturday morning taking in Wimbledon Common parkrun. Slightly tardy timekeeping, but a nice intro by the run director and a friendly feel with several milestone cakes on show. There was an odd comment about stopping to help fallers, which made sense shortly into the first of the two laps as the path turned into deep mud with the odd tree root and puddle obstacle. Following someone too closely was decidedly risky, but great fun. As usual I ended up pushing hard all the way round, but running back on tired legs must be good marathon training. The rain wasn’t so bad on the Sunday morning, and I took the opportunity to round off the week with the Sunday club run.

The route I took included the unpaved ‘road’ parallel to Putney Park Lane. It is like the road that time forgot. I love exploring London on longer runs and finding hidden gems. You can smell the history round some of the old streets and lanes near the Thames. The north circular aqueduct has reopened on the Grand Union Canal with a wider re-laid path leading up to it; I remember the surprise the first time ran over it as you don’t see it coming.

This week I got the miles in early with a long run into work. This time I had a second breakfast when I got in, and felt much better. I find I need to eat straight after a long run. This was followed the next day by a long run back in the warm weather, at almost exactly the same pace. The pace, I later discovered, that would give me the time given by the marathon time predictor based on my Cambridge half marathon time. This was tantalisingly just under 3:15, which would be ‘good for age’ for a vet man and earn a chance to do it again. Anything could happen in those last few miles on the day, but it could be worth a shot. I’ll be running the Fleet half marathon, but I feel I can take it a bit easier now with a time in the bag which should get me on the bus to Wales.

Leith Hill Half Marathon 2017 by Andrea Hendy

Setting off yesterday (Sun 5th) morning at 08:30 from “the green” with the lovely Jenny Baker andMartin Bower heading down to Dorking, which was going to be – at least that’s what we expected – a very wet race indeed.  All of us had done this race at least once before and absolutely loved it. Even the desperate weather yesterday didn’t manage to dampen our enthusiasm for this race.  You gotta love hills and certainly not be bothered by a bit of mud, to thoroughly enjoy this race.  As we were driving through Dorking we noticed with great delight, that the weather seemed a lot brighter and drier down there then it was back in West London.  By the time we pulled into the car park of the Priory School (race HQ) the sun had come out.   

If you like a low key race that has not yet been spoiled by greed and over commercialism, then this is the race for you.  It’s always brilliantly organised.  You get a Tech T-shirt at the end - with all participants names printed on the back -, a full English breakfast (if you can stomach it after your race), a memento and of course the all important medal.  All the marshals and other volunteers are extremely friendly and encouraging.  The friendliest marshal of them all yesterday was of course Ealing Eagles Tom Irving who assisted at the finish line.  Thank you for volunteering Tom and hope you are back running very soon.  Tom and Harriet Betteridge had yet again signed up to compete in the renowned “Wife carrying race” which takes place just before the main race.  Its brilliant fun to watch and the kids love throwing buckets of water over the contestants as they struggle up and down the hill.  You don’t have to be married to the person you carry either, which in some cases is probably not a bad thing.  Tom and Hattie had put in plenty of practice – at least 20 seconds – and were feeling strong.  To give you a little taster here is a short clip of what it looked like.  Would be interesting to see what Hattie’s experience was like. Maybe next year Hattie you could fix a “go pro” to your helmet. Take a good look at the last person, carrying the heaviest wife.  I believe they hand out a prize for “heaviest wife” as well.  You gotta hand it to them....great sports.

With the wife carrying out the way and Olivia having made it back from her 5 mile pre race run in time for the Half Marathon it was time to line up.  Martin Bower, Jenny Baker, Olivia Parker-Scott, Harriet Betteridge and I were race ready.  However there was still one important “ritual” to complete pre race.  This was of course the singing of the National Anthem. I must admit, I had forgotten about this bit.  Yes, you did read correctly, singing the national anthem pre race is very much part of the whole experience.  Don’t worry if you don’t know the words. Mumbling is allowed and you will not incur any penalties by having time added to your finish time by doing so.  The race organiser, as always wearing his patriotic running shorts, will have you all sing your little hearts out before the start of the race.  By the way, when I say shorts I mean shorts.  This guy wears the shortest shorts I have ever seen.  Not sure how much shorter they could be, before they become a thong. Having a bit of a sing along is all just a bit of fun and is taken very light heartedly indeed.  It just gives this race a special note (no pun intended) and something a little different. 

And we are off......up the hill. 

The route is an out and back, with the “out” being tougher than the back bit.  After the recent rain there was certainly no shortage of mud along the way.  I figured that there were about 4 different techniques of how best to get through the mud.  There was the “ever so cautious runner” who moved through the mud almost in slow motion, resulting in every step they took to sink deeper and deeper into the mud.  Then you have the “slightly more daring runner” who will manoeuvre in and around the mud puddle, with more confidence and speed and look a bit more gracious compared to the “ever so cautious runner”.  Then you have the “quick step runner” who will take short and quick steps across the mud, landing each time with the toes first thus ensuring that you don’t have time to sink into the mud.  Last but not least, you have the “don’t give a shit about mud runner”.  Running straight through the mud full steam ahead is their motto, sending blobs of mud flying through the air.  I was a “quick step runner” on the way up, having converted into the “don’t give a shit about mud” on the way back.  Great fun!!

I had ran about 4.7 miles which had taken me 55 min, when the fastest runner came flying passed me heading in the opposite direction for a glory finish.  There was little me, struggling up the path, not even anywhere near half way, when this guy passed heading back already.  Awesome running!   The first Eagles passed me after about another mile.  It was Martin and Hattie, shortly followed by Olivia all still looking very fresh.  As I was reaching the last and very steep hill before the half way point I had Jenny coming down the hill giving me an encouraging “well done, keep going”. 

Finally reaching the top and with that the half way point, I was happy to find that the weather had not turned and the sky was still remarkably bright and sunny giving you a spectacular view over the lovely British countryside. You could stop and stare all you wanted, but after all you had race to run. 

Heading back and passing the food/water station again, I continued to make the most of the Jaffa cakes on offer.  I mean it would be rude not too, right?! I really like them as energy boosters during a race.  They also had jelly babies and other sugary jellies as well as water. 

After several more miles I had finally reached the steep steps, which are the last test of your endurance.  Everybody ahead of me was walking, well crawling up it and this of course included me. The heavy breathing that was going on scared the poor wildlife for several days I am sure.  And of course to top it all.......by the time you dragged yourself up this very last hill there was the photographer ready and waiting for you and your “race face”.  I wondered how much it would cost me to bribe this guy to make my photo look like I was running up hill, rather than being on my last leg.  Surely with today’s modern photo technology there is a way. Oh well....maybe not.  I am sure nothing tops my worst race face ever, which was crossing the finish line at the Reading Half Marathon in 2013.  Warning!! Do not try and find this picture.  It’ll leave you traumatised and in need of therapy for the rest of your life.

So from now on it was only downhill.......yippee.  I crossed the finish line, with a high five from Tom and a big grin on my face, as well as a massive sense of achievement.  I think it’s safe to say we all had a bloody good race and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves yet again at Leith Hill.

After a quick change we all had a lovely breakfast before heading back.

I’m looking forward to next year, with hopefully an even bigger flock of Eagles.

6 Weeks to Go!

All in all a pretty good fortnight! 

Ten weeks have gone and six weeks to go! Since I last wrote I not only got to my longest distance of 18 miles....I actually went out and ran 20 miles! Still can't quite believe it but yes I have joined the twenty mile gang! 

The last couple of weeks have been good. My 18 miler went really well but I struggled badly for the last mile and a half. Laura pulled me through and we made it! Running friends are simply the best :-) 

The twenty miler therefore I was super anxious about but oddly that felt better. I wondered afterwards if it was because I went slightly slower. Again a superb running buddy helped. 

The other sessions haven't been too bad but I have found running my mid week marathon pace run hard work. This has led me to the question....WHAT DO I WANT FROM THIS MARATHON?

Do I want to run a time that I could possibly achieve but will be hard, hard work or do I want to go a bit slower ( no doubt it will still be hard work!) and it feel more achievable?

I know what I do want....to enjoy it. To enjoy running down from Blackheath, to be wowed when crossing Tower Bridge, to be smiling when I pass both my Run Mummy Run crew and the Eagles. To look around whilst running along the embankment and finally to be laughing ( or at least crying in happiness)  as I cross that finish line in the mall.

I know there are many people that read this who will be able to run super fast and do all of the above. I am just not sure if I am physically capable of being one of them ( the super fast bit being relative!) ....But on the other hand will I be disappointed to not get the time I'm possibly capable of? 

But it's my first marathon, it's my bucket list marathon, it's a guaranteed PB. 

Something I need to ponder on. Whatever happens I will run to enjoy it. 

On another note I wanted to say to anyone reading this who has thought about doing a race distance longer than they have done before and then thought nope,  I couldn't possibly do that. If I can do it you absolutely can. With training and a bit of self belief ( yep, I'm still very much working on that part!) it is totally doable. 

When I started couch to 5k in March 2013 I used to be a wheezing wreck at the end of sixty seconds. From then to now has been quite a journey, a journey with peaks and troughs guaranteed but a journey anyone is capable of if they choose to make it. 

I am so much happier for finding running. Not just for the exercise and endorphins but for the friends, the camaraderie and the sense of achievement. 

This journey is so incredible, thanks again Eagles. Simply the best :-) 

Running buddies....couldn't be doing this without them! 

Juniors Winter Season Achievements

As XC season comes to a close, we take a moment to hi-light and celebrate the achievements of our juniors in their first winter of competitive racing.

• Our juniors participated in two XC leagues this winter- Met League & the NW London XC League;
• 13 juniors ran over 10 league fixtures, some raced in a single fixture, some raced consistently;
• 3 juniors represented their boroughs in the London Youth Games at Parliament Hill;
• 2 juniors raced at the Southern XC Championships;
• 3 juniors raced at the Middlesex XC Championships.

By no means was it easy for our juniors to put themselves up against other well established clubs. But, at every event, they showed grit, determination and heart. We are proud of their achievements this winter and we hope you are too.

None of this, of course, is possible without our dedicated team of volunteers and we are grateful to them for their assistance with the development of our juniors. But, we need more volunteers to train as coaches (either as athletic coaches or cirfs), particularly to help train our older juniors. If you think working with young people is for you, then please be in touch with us at juniors@ealingeagles.com. We'd be delighted to hear from you.

We now look forward to our first spring/summer season of competitive track and field events....so watch this space!

Kelvin, James, Jen and Lisa

Cambridge Half Marathon by Dominic Wallace

On a day when Eagles were involved in an impressive number of different races (I’ve counted at least six, just from Facebook posts), 15 of us (plus a couple of hardy spectators) swooped on the Cambridge Half Marathon, lured by the prospect of a scenic but flat course and, in some cases, by the opportunity to visit old haunts and/or student offspring.

Cambridge has a fully-deserved reputation for being impossible to park in; in fairness, there is a well-organised park and ride system that was beefed up for the day, but that still means a lot of standing around, so most of us had come up the day before.  Harry Claxton did bring a car up on the morning and gets a lot of respect for sweet-talking the porters at his old college into letting him park there.

Anyway, the weather was just as bad in Cambridge as it was in the rest of the country, so a few of us had the chance to show how glamorous we look when modelling the latest trend in designer waterproofs (aka bin bags)…

…and then it was off to the start.  Cambridge has a reputation for being quite crowded early on, which they had tried to fix this year with a two-wave start and each wave split into two or three by expected finish time.  Now I’m a bit of a novice and don’t have much to compare it with, but all in all it seemed to work:  it was still busy, but everyone around you is going at much the same speed so it doesn’t really matter.

The course is lovely, and roughly breaks down into thirds.  For a mile or so just after the start you could be anywhere, but then the view opens up and you see the city to your left before crossing the bridge and heading south past King’s College Chapel and all the other classic buildings.  Once you come out of the city centre you’re on a contra-flow and only have half the road, so it’s still a little congested, but after five miles you get to Trumpington, you turn right and the road opens up gloriously in front of you saying “come on, you can go faster than that”.

At this point I should explain that I’d based my training around a 1:40 target, but the longer race-pace runs had been a struggle and the last bits of preparation (which mostly involved standing in the wind for two days watching Teenager One play lacrosse) hadn’t exactly come from the textbook, so I’d tempered my ambitions and just decided to aim for a PB, setting off at 1:45 pace and hoping to gain a couple of minutes on the way round.  Which is exactly what happened until the road started talking to me and I ran the next 5k at horribly close to parkrun pace.

Anyway, the final third comes when you get back into the city just before the nine-mile point, at which point you take a different route through the cute bit (passing Paul Robinson at ten miles, who is doing his best to tie shoelaces using fingers that have turned into blocks of ice) and then retrace your steps back to the start/finish on Midsummer Common.  Just after the final mile marker you go over the river for the last time, and here’s where I paid for taking that middle section so fast and resorted to a 45-second walk break before sprinting home as best I could.  Press the “stop” button and my watch says 1:40:00 (yes, really), but I have the horrible feeling that I was a second or two slow to start it and this is borne out when the text comes through (this is a really impressive feature) telling me I finished in 1:40:01.

Rather to my surprise, I’m not remotely upset by the two seconds that stood between me and a “99 something”.  It was the best part of four minutes off my PB and nothing hinged on the time (GFA is a very long way away, even at my age).  Up at the pointy end of the field, others were taking great chunks off their PBs too:  John Foxall led us home in 1:22:47, and Harry and Kira broke their respective 1:30 and 1:40 barriers by ridiculous amounts.  Sophie went one better and did a Bob Beamon, leaping the 1:45 and 1:40 milestones in a single bound with a six-minute PB of 1:39:36.

So then it was time to collect the bags and go, and probably my only criticism of a wonderful and very well marshalled event.  The organisers had allocated race numbers in order of expected finish time, which makes perfect sense on the surface.  The flaw in this cunning plan is of course that all the fast people end up trying to collect bags from the same place at the same time, while the people handling bags for the higher numbers have nothing to do at this point (and there’s not enough physical space for them to help out where they’re needed).  With luck this will change next year, although I suppose it does provide an incentive to come home inside your target time:  the more you outperform your race number, the shorter your bag queue when you get to it.  I was 1,298th off a race number roughly double that, so no queue and very quickly into warm clothes before rushing off down the motorway to pick up Teenager Two from a music competition, while the rest of the convocation did what any self-respecting Eagles would do and went to the cinema.

Alright, so it’s not a cinema any more, but it was in my day.  It’s now a pub.

Clapham Chasers Thames Riverside 20 by James Linney

One of the advantages of running a spring marathon, over running one in the autumn, is the abundance of 20 mile marathon training runs that are available. There are so many in fact, that you have the option to be a bit picky and choose the one(s) that you enjoy the most and best fit within your training plan.

I ran the Clapham Chasers – Thames Riverside 20 back in 2015 in the build up to the Manchester Marathon and it was a no brainer for me to use this as one of my 20 mile runs in preparation for VLM2017 for a number of reasons.

On the face of it, the event doesn’t sound particularly exciting! It starts at 8am in the morning, involves a not particularly exciting route, running up and down the Thames (a large part of which is the clubrun route), there is no finisher t-shirt or medal and it costs £22.

And for all of these reasons I was depicting a pretty negative attitude towards running this year in the days leading up to the race. And with the forecasted heavy rain I was close to not getting out of bed at all. At this point I should apologise to everyone that had to ensure my grumpy demeanour on route on Sunday morning. To my defence the rain was coming in side-ways and we had little to no shelter in the race village.

The good thing is that once the race started, I remembered why I had signed up in the first place. Being a club-run event, the organisation is excellent – they know what runners want and need, focus on getting these things in place and don’t worry about all the pointless frills and spills.

The pace groups are what really set this race apart from the other marathon training runs. With 2 Clapham Chasers assigned to each group (7.00, 7.30, 8.00, 8.30 and 9.00mm), being set off at 2 minute intervals to avoid congestion, there is a really relaxed feel and a non-race vibe, with the first few miles spent getting to know different runners and sharing the various ups and downs of marathon training. Not everyone, including me, sticks to the pace group for the entire 20 miles (although many do) as the flat nature of the route provides a perfect opportunity for a progression run or even running part of the race at marathon pace. Again, by chatting to the other runners, you can often find someone who has a similar race plan and therefore can provide company for most of the run.

On top of pacing, the Chaser Marshalls are brilliant. They are situated and regular interval points, many of which double up as water/Gatorade stations and their enthusiasm and professionalism is probably only bettered by us Eagles. And considering the biblical weather we were experiencing at times on Sunday, it was even more impressive.

I mentioned earlier that the route was a bit of a negative. However, the out and back nature of the course means that you get to see all of the other runners on route and as the faster runners cheer you on the way out, you get to reciprocate this with the runners that are slower than you on the way back. And as there is always a decent number of Eagles running, this provides regular boosts just at the time you need it and is often shortly followed by those on the Sunday clubrun. In fact, there is a great buzz all round on this date as the event coincides with a rowing regatta, so the Thames get lined with supporters up and down the boat houses.

I also mentioned the lack of medal, but personally I’m not bothered about getting a medal for something that isn’t a race. The important thing after 20 miles is that you get well fed and with one of the most impressive goody bags around, courtesy of Holland and Barrett – not to mention the large selection of homemade cakes waiting for you – what’s not to like!

Overall it was a great day and the sun even came out for the second half of the run.

Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park 10k - by Tracey Melville

It's been a while since I've felt so good going into a race and last Saturday has to go down as my best, so far this year. Back in October at the Eagles birthday quiz & party I was lucky enough to win 5 entries to the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park Winter 10k series, held on the first Saturday of each month. At the time I was slightly worried that I would now have to run all of them! But raffle man Hardy pointed out I could give them to friends. So that's what I did, rounding up a few members of the pluckie crew (some names stick Kelvin) together with my sister in training for first VLM, I put our names down for the last one of the Winter series. Then that strange thing that always seems to happen, happened. I entered another race - this was the Fullers Thames Towpath 10. I've never done a 10 mile race, so it was something new to attempt in 2017. Fast forward to early March and I am halfway through my training for the 10 miler and this 10k slotted in very nicely. I've been mixing up my training with cross training for the first time, although this did involve me signing up to a gym -something I said I'd never do again. However, this time round I go to the gym with a purpose and not to prance around, then sit in a steam room. I've got a job to do; strength, cross, abs, stretch, even the 'dreadmill' to knock out some of the miles in an attempt to save my mature knees or more likely poor running style. So back to Her maj's lovely park and what a lovely place it really is. It seems incredible that nearly 5 years ago, it was emerging from nothing to host the unforgettable 2012 London Olympics and today it is still being used and inspiring so many to participate in sport at some level. There's even a football club there 😉.  Meeting up with the pluckies + 1 at various points between Northfields and Stratford, we arrived in good time to collect race packs, pin our numbers to our thighs (this was a new one on me), drop our bags, then line up with everyone to hear tales from the MC about his marathon career starting back in 1981. Mr MC then decided we needed rehearse our finish line hands in the air & SMILE. We had to do this a few times until he was satisfied we had understood, then threw a few shapes in an attempt to warm up - star jumps - why?? And we were finally off. Three laps of the course, mostly flat, a few undulations, criss crossing bridges and repeat. My target was to get near 75 mins as that would have knocked off a good chunk from my last 10k back in December when I was still run/walking. After two laps and checking in with my garmin, I thought, I've got this - sub 70. At 8k I was flagging a little and my sister offered up a jelly baby. It did the trick and I powered home to finish in 68:33. A 10k PB. I was delighted. We all thoroughly enjoyed the race, oohed and ahhed over our shiny sparkly red finisher medals and celebrated with a hot cuppa and slice of my banana bread and other treats. It's now Monday and I'm still on a high, so I thought I'd share with you all. I'm now looking forward to Towpath 10, where a PB is already in the bag. Thank you to my lovely running buddies Roz, Carol, Teresa for joining me at Stratford and my sister Rose who I made an honorary eagle for the day.

Getting into the Groove

The weeks are passing quicker now that the training seems like more of a routine.  I'm getting used to having even less time to relax at weekends than before, and going out for a run despite already being tired and sore has become easier to do.  I suppose I'm more motivated now, and it helps that I feel a lot fitter now than I did at the start of the year.  There have been more times when I feel like a runner, instead of just feeling uncomfortable.  I'm definitely enjoying it more now and feels less like it's getting in the way of the rest of my life.  For the most part, at least.

Week 7 - 81 miles

Despite still being hampered by some ankle strength issues, I more or less managed a full week of training this time.  Because I don't count the running to and from work when I follow the plan, and also maybe add a couple of miles here and there, this ended up being a high-mileage week. I wasn't worried about the 'extras' causing problems farther down the line because I was happy that I was hitting the runs that I was supposed to.  I did my usual cross country as a recovery on Monday.  Tuesday's track sessions was five lots of a mile and I found maintaining the target pace a lot easier than a few weeks ago.  Wednesday I did a slow half marathon along the canal.  I encountered the detour to pass the North Circular aqueduct but I found it provided a bit of variety without adding too much distance.  Thursday the plan said an eight mile progression run, which means starting off slow and getting faster each mile.  Negative splits have never been my forte and that is one of skills of a good marathon runner, but I totally nailed it.  It probably helped to have gales behind me for the second half.  The wind was so strong that the canal had waves on it.

I made parkrun on Saturday and decided to add a mile before and after.  I thought I had timed it about right to get  back to the start before the race began, but I was greeted by the always unwelcome sight of a few hundred runners coming in the opposite direction before I got there.  At least it removed the temptation to run it fast, so I started from the back of the field and paced it blind.  It just happened to be even splits and close to my target marathon pace so that seemed like some kind of result..

Sunday's long run was supposed to be 18 miles with the second half at marathon pace.  I chose a linear out-and-back route along the river in a westerly direction.  Nine miles got me as far as Kingston.  The section between Ham and Teddington Lock was a bit muddy but the rest of it was pleasant and the distance didn't drag at all.  For the faster return trip I soon realised I didn't have the legs for a straight 6:45 pace but I kept it close to that all the time I had a clear path.  I managed nearly seven fast miles before I felt something go in my groin when I tried to go too fast round the floating diversion on the canal. I really wasn't prepared to stop at 79 miles for the week so I slow-jogged the last two miles home.

Pains in familiar areas give me clear signals of when to ease off but it is more difficult for me to judge when it hurts in new places. I always thought it is fine as long as it's moving around, because that's just changes in one area spreading out to the muscles elsewhere. I admit that it has got a bit harder for me to judge when to scale it back now. 80 miles in a week may well be too much. Once again I have to remind myself what I said before I started, and it helps that I wrote it down. I said I wouldn't go too fast on a long run. I'm going to have to be very careful about trying that kind of thing again.

Week 8 – 64 miles

Soreness at the top of my left leg and also down under the heel persisted longer than I hoped.  Scaling things back was something I didn't have a lot of choice about at the start of the week because I had too much going on at work.  Perhaps mercifully, a lack of shorts prevented from running home on Monday.  I remembered a time when I had no kit and was so desperate to run that I went in just work trousers.  I'm glad I'm not that desperate these days.  I had a day of just jogging the commute and then got back to the track for some proper training on Wednesday.  It was the same 1000m with 200m recoveries that I struggled with before.  I managed all eight this time without even slowing.  My pains went away while I ran hard but came back worse whenever I slowed down again.  After the run home I wasn't walking too gracefully anymore.  I find that frequent baths are helpful to keep the tension at bay, so I soaked like I had never soaked before.  In the morning I stepped out of bed to find it still hurt to put weight on that foot.  I told myself I shouldn’t run but then felt bad about that.  Walking around made it feel a bit better so I decided to run to work and see how it was afterwards.  It was no worse so I went ahead with the half marathon lunchtime.  Each time, the pain in my foot was mostly going away after the first half mile, but it came back again after I ran.  I never really knew too much about plantar fasciitis but a quick search made me worry that this might be the issue.  Reading further into it made me concerned for my prospects of being able to do this marathon.  If I can’t go through with it after nearly running myself into the ground like I have done, then it would be more awful than I can imagine.

After two days’ rest, my pains had subsided in a way that gave me cause for some optimism.  I think it is a tight lower calf that has been causing my plantar issues, and stretching when I can and resting when I have to will hopefully fix that.  My enthusiasm for the Sunday long run could hardly be any less this time.  Having rather a lot to drink on Friday night and being a bit emotional as a consequence probably had something to do with that.  It was the possibility of a run making me feel more grounded that finally got me out the house.  The route sounded fun when I thought of it: getting the train to Maidenhead and then running home via the Jubilee River and Slough Arm of the canal.  I enjoy doing it by bike because there are hardly any roads involved, but that has generally been in better weather.  The Jubilee River section was fun enough because there was a bit of sun and I felt strong and energetic.  Then I hit the canal at Slough and had to cope with gales and rain and a towpath that had been churned up into a quagmire.  There has been works to improve the path but it seems to have had the opposite effect in the short term.  The distance clocked neatly at just over 20 miles when I got to home and I didn’t feel like doing the extra loop that I had thought about because I was fed up and bored already.  It didn’t feel too painful at first but it wiped out the rest of the day for me.  It made my head feel a little better but it knocked me off my feet.

I’m not too worried about doing marathon distance anymore but I don’t know if I will be able to manage it at anywhere near the pace I want.  When I do the long runs, I’m not sure I dare go too fast because I think there’s a high risk that I might get injured.  I feel good to start with but 20 plus miles still wears me down more than I feel like it should by now.  I don’t bother taking any gels or water and that might have something to do with why I end up so tired.  I started this last two weeks a lot happier about the progress of my training than I had been but doubts have crept in again about whether putting myself up to this is going to be worth it.  Now, once again, I am at the start of the week and so tired I can't think, but the running doesn’t stop even if I want it to. 

Harry's Blog 4

The training has continued on in similar vein to previous blogs which doesn’t necessarily make for an interesting blog, but it will do me fine. One ankle is a bit stiff in the mornings, but otherwise in reasonable shape.

I’d left you last time doing a long run around Ealing’s canals, waiting for children to be well enough to make it down to Brighton for a half term break. We did finally get down on Friday, and I squeezed in an early morning run along the seafront in much better weather than the Brighton half marathon would endure the following week. I bumped into a crowd of runners on the Hover Promenade, and realised I stumbled on a Parkrun. Fortunately I always carry my barcode along with an oyster card and cash when I ran, so I incorporated a fast 5k into the middle of the run. Such are the benefits of having a flexible approach to the training plan. I love the way you feel at home and welcome in any Parkrun. The run director had run the Ealing Half Marathon, but found it a bit hillly. I stretched out a quick Sunday club run to a half marathon the next day, followed on Monday while my daughter swam by a hills session up Studland, Ealing’s steepest street – give it a try if you haven’t already.

I then tried extending a run in to work to 20k, but felt that slightly out of sorts all day – I think I need a decent meal after a long run. I then tapered with a quick short run and day off to the club championships Parkrun. I was spurred on by chasing 3 eagles just ahead, and managed to match my track time fromtwo and half weeks earlier, though this time finishing just behind Santry. Still, a Gunnersbury PB by a massive 21 seconds, a place in the Gunnersbury fastest 500, and time I never thought I would ever achieve.

Buoyed up by this success and inspired by Chris’s blog to stretch out the long run to 23 miles, partly because I was nervous of what would happen in the marathon in those last 6 miles. I took the opportunity to run down through Bushy Park to Hampton Court Palace and back up along the river – always get the trickier navigation out of the way on the way out. I deliberately went off at a cautious pace, but by half way it was feeling like hard work, and I wasn’t able to up the pace as much as I’d hoped while keeping my breathing relaxed. I was glad to see some Eagles coming the other way on the Sunday club run – I had started very early – and I managed to up the pace a bit for the last 3k. At least I hadn’t hit a wall. I caught the bus up from Kew bridge which meant I was a bit cold and stiff by the time I got to Ealing Green, and I decided I had to be anti-social and refuel properly rather than join the other just finishing the club run in café. It was only when I got under a hot shower that I found out from the sharp pain that the weight of a couple of gels had caused my shorts to rub my skin raw on my lower back.

For some reason I don’t understand myself I felt deflated rather than elated after the run. Perhaps subconsciously I’d hoped I would find it easier to keep up a faster pace, or I expected too much on the day following such a hard 5k run, or it was unrelated non-running stresses, a chemical imbalance in the brain or just mid plan blues (is that a thing?).

After a rest day a couple of quick runs showed I still had pace, and then a couple of slower runs to taper for the Cambridge Half this Sunday, which hopefully will give a better feel for what time I should be aiming at for the marathon, and post a time that has a chance to getting me on to the Welsh Castles open team.

Spring is beginning to poke its head cautiously out from under the duvet, and I finally took some time out of the schedule to check on my allotment. Unfortunately Doris had uprooted my poly greenhouse, including heavy wooden base, and tumbled it over the blackberries and mangled it against an apple tree. It’s hard enough keeping on top of an allotment without marathon training. So I brought some seed potatoes – it will be low maintenance crops this spring. I’m travelling with work next week. I’ll take my running kit, but it might be low mileage. It’s not easy fitting life around marathon training, but so far I think I’m ahead slightly, so I will just have to squeeze it what I can. All in all, I’m running faster and further than ever, and I’m still injury free, so it’s all good.

Marrakech Express by Becky Fennelly

For the fifth consecutive year, a group of intrepid Eagles flew off to Marrakech to take part in the Marathon and Half Marathon weekend. The weekend was expertly hosted by Eileen Imrie and Rachid Afouzar as always. The fact that a number of the group are now regulars at the event is testament to how well we are all looked after both before and during the trip. In total, Rachid and Eileen were looking after over 120 runners in various groups including a group of runners raising money for the Human Appeal charity. Perhaps they should set up a travel agency!

This was my second time at the Marrakech marathon weekend, although the previous year was only as a spectator, having suffered a calf tear days before the trip. This year I have been training very cautiously as my main aim was to get to Marrakech in one piece and actually get to run this year.

The Eagles flocked together over the course of Friday with transfers arranged from the airport to the beautiful Riad Anya which was home for 3 nights. The Riad was booked for our sole use and it was a great opportunity to spend some time with like-minded people. Dinner was served in the Riad on Friday night cooked expertly by a lovely local lady to recipes that reflect what a typical family meal is in Morocco.

The evening was a great opportunity to meet the other Eagles and find out about each other’s goals for the weekend. With so many members of the club now it was lovely to have a chance to spend time with Eagles whom we may not crossed paths with before. 

Saturday was taken up with a variety of activities. Some took the opportunity to join a guided tour of the city which is included in the price of the trip. The day starts with a trip to the beautiful and peaceful Jardin Majorelle which houses a memorial to Yves Saint Laurent as well as many beautiful plants. A local guide then took the group round many of the main sights followed by lunch in a rooftop restaurant overlooking Djemaa El Fna (the main square). From the restaurant you absorb the sights and sounds of the square, watch the traders, snake charmers and other characters without being hassled to buy anything. 

The afternoon provided a chance to go to the local pharmacy and discover all sorts of local remedies for ailments and illnesses. Eileen was on hand to help stop the traders hassling us and showing us how best to deal with them when they approached us.

Another group travelled out of the city to visit the beautiful Cascade D’Ouzoud waterfall which included a hike in the hills and an unfortunate incident with a sheep.

Saturday evening was dinner in the Riad once again and an opportunity to carb load on couscous ready for the big day. 

The day arrived, bright and sunny (as is pretty much always the case in Marrakech) and the marathon runners got up for an early breakfast ready to start running at 8am. The Riad was close enough to the start line to walk there and stretch the legs before racing.

Melissah Gibson, Sophie Shawdon & Paul Keen set off to represent the Eagles in the marathon, joined at the start by Piers Keenleyside. Paul had run the marathon the previous year and was looking to shave a significant amount of time off his previous best. Sophie was running her first marathon whilst our 100 club members were planning to run hard, Melissah aiming for that elusive sub 3 hour marathon and Piers hoping to improve his start pen for Comrades with a solid time in Marrakech.

 
The start line was lively with plenty of music to keep runners upbeat and ready to go for it although the number of portaloos was woefully inadequate for the number of runners.  It would appear they were relying heavily on people waiting to use the unofficial “toilets” in the Olive Grove at mile 3 (ladies right, gents left). They could certainly learn something about this side of the organisation from EHM. 

At 8am the marathon set off and the start line cleared ready for the half marathon runners to gather.
 
The Eagles were well represented in the half marathon. Tony Austin, Douglas Hodgkinson, Paul Doeh, Kelly Scanlon, Trevor Pask, Dineke Austin, Kathryn Keenleyside, Paul Barry, Me (Becky) & Daniel Fennelly lined up at the start along with Kelly’s friend Mandy 

Having heard numerous reports of water stations running out of water for the slower runners I had over a litre of water secreted about my person in various drinking bottles as the idea of running in warm weather without water had me in a pre-race panic.

At 8:30am the half marathon started in warm sunshine. The roads were lined with supporters right from the start and shouts of “Bon Courage” could be heard as we set out.

In the early miles the route took us along wide boulevards closed to traffic. After about a mile the crowds had started to spread out and I found myself running alone. This was not a problem as I was enjoying seeing parts of the city I had not yet visited.

After about 3 miles we reached the Olive Groves where the first water station was which not only had bottles of water but crates of small oranges too which were very refreshing on the warm morning. This was the narrowest part of the course and I found myself battling for road space with a car carrying a film crew with cameras pointing out the boot and the windows. I don’t know who they were filming for but I like to think that my Eagles vest may have made it onto Moroccan TV that day.

After exiting the Olive Groves we turned back onto a main boulevard where I found myself accompanied by a clown, high fiving everyone and shouting “Bon Courage” to all the runners.  
With a smile on my face I carried on knowing I was approaching the spot where the Eagles cheer squad would be waiting. Even from a distance I could see Eileen, Rachid, Jonathan, Jacquie and a number of other friends waiting to cheer us on. Rachid was technically running too but spent much of the race running backwards and forwards finding Eagles and other charity runners from his other groups to cheer on and support as they made their way round the course.

Onwards towards the half way point and I was on track to match my time from EHM. Meanwhile, elsewhere on the course, the first Eagles were finishing the race with Douglas completing the half marathon in 1:33:36, followed by Kelly 5 minutes later. 

Around the same time, there was bit of commotion at the finish line for the marathon when the Melissah was seen approaching the line at pretty much the same time as the male first place runner meaning she had run a world record marathon time for a woman! Now we all know she’s flipping fast but that would be an incredible achievement. 

A confused Melissah wondered why she had crossed the finish line given that her watch said she’d only run 29km. Sadly, it seems like she must have taken a wrong turn and picked up the half marathon route at some point. Despite trying to get advice on how to get back on course, it became clear that today wasn’t the day for that sub 3 hour marathon.

More Eagles started to cross the finish line for the half marathon with Paul Doeh next over the line with Tony Austin not far behind. Paul’s chances of a PB had been dashed by the group of Berbers shouting “Obama, brother Africa, come dance with us!”. Who could resist pulling out a few moves? Not Paul! 

Further back down the course I was approached by a lady asking “Parlez-Vous Anglais?” to which I replied “Oui, Je parle Anglais”. My French mode had kicked in over the course of the weekend and it didn’t cross my mind that perhaps she wanted me to speak English to her.  The lady in question turned out to be called Deborah and had travelled from Salt Lake, USA to run the race. 

For the next couple of miles we took the opportunity to chat to fellow English speakers and ran together along the wide boulevards slowing to collect more oranges and (still plentiful) water along the way. She was keen to know what Ealing Eagles was and I relished the chance to wax lyrical about the club to a new audience. 

Eventually my pre-race niggles started to take their toll and my hips and thigh became quite painful so we parted company as I slowed down, leaving behind my chances of a PB.  It was lovely to have a few fellow runners who had been running close to me check I was ok when they saw my pace dropping, although my tiredness and less than fluent French meant my responses were pretty limited.

Back at the finish line, a flurry of Eagles crossed the finish line. Dineke finished the half in a frustrating 2:00:04, Paul Barry finished in 2:02:46 with Trevor Pask right on his heels. Mandy crossed the line to complete her first ever half marathon in 2:06:24.

The Eagles who had finished headed back to the Riad to freshen up knowing the remaining field would not be finishing for a while. Mandy decided to celebrate her first half marathon by jumping fully clothed into the plunge pool. None of us had used the plunge pool up to that point due to the fact the water was freezing cold. Well, they do say a post-race ice bath is good for you!

Back, on the course, the marshalls seemed to have given up on holding back the traffic on the busy main roads and gradually I found myself navigating multiple lanes of traffic at every road junction. If you live here and are quite used to just stepping out in front of traffic this probably isn’t an issue, but for a cautious accountant like myself, this was not what I needed in the latter stages of a half marathon with aching hips. A similar experience was being had by Sophie out on the marathon course, and the crazy scooter drivers hurtling towards her was quite disconcerting at times.

I reached the bus station area and the traffic, public, donkeys etc became quite an issue and I was continuously dodging and weaving.  After this the route took in a market area where the crowds were gathered and were very supportive of a weary looking runner. At one point I found myself surrounded by children and whilst I’m not averse to high-fiving the youngsters on my way round this was bit overwhelming. Listening to their shouts, I realised that they were crowding round me because they wanted my water bottle that I had been carrying since the previous (again well stocked) water station. Apparently the race organisers were paying kids for each bottle they collected in an effort to get the streets cleaned up quickly. Eventually the route took us back onto quieter roads and the stress of dodging traffic and pedestrians eased off. 

Back at the finish line Piers was the next Eagle to cross the line with a marathon time 3:26:06 which many people would have been delighted with, but for Piers today this was a little disappointing. In the meantime, Melissah, undeterred by being unable to re-join the race, decided to complete her marathon in the car park. This earned her many a confused look from finishers heading back to their car but she was determined to complete the distance she set out to do.

Finally, I found myself close to the end of the race, in some discomfort, but keeping going. As I rounded a bend in the last km I spotted the familiar sight of Rachid who was chatting to a friend. On spying me he dropped his bag, handed his phone to the friend and proceeded to run the final stretch with me. It was great to have the encouragement at the end to allow me to finish with a strong push over the finish line. Shouts of support from Piers who had recently finished his marathon also spurred me on to push hard for the line. Having seen video footage of my finish since, it looks much slower than it felt.

My final time was 10 minutes slower than my EHM time, but given my careful approach to preparation, pain and the warmth of the day, I was happy overall and delighted to get my hands on the medal I had missed out on last year. I was also pleased to have not needed any of the water I still had round my waist. I bumped into my American friend milling about beyond the finish line and was pleased to discover she had easily achieved her target.

4 more Eagles to finish and next over the line was Paul Keen who completed the marathon in 3:52:05 closely followed by Kathryn finishing a tough half marathon.

I stayed around the finish line looking for Daniel who I hadn’t seen since mile 1. After a few minutes I saw him limping towards the finish line. Unfortunately he had turned his ankle quite early in the race and had been bravely hobbling his way round the course for most of the route.
The final Eagle out on the course now was Sophie, who found herself running directly into the mid-day sun for the last hour of the marathon. She had found some company along the way and chose the camaraderie of running with someone else over chasing a time alone. Nevertheless, she crossed the line, completing her first marathon in a very respectable 5:08:44.
With all Eagles home it was time to head back to the square for a well earned lunch, followed by a stroll back to the Riad for a rest. Celebrations were had in the evening with a trip to Fantasia, a somewhat touristy destination but with banquet style food, alcohol on sale and some local dancers for entertainment, it was an excellent way to round off a great day of running.

Monday dawned to some aching muscles and some of the group set off early for their flight. A group of us headed back towards the Souks to visit the Cafe Des Epices for a relaxing rooftop lunch in the sun with great views out over the snow-topped Atlas Mountains. One intrepid Eagle set off for a night in the desert with Rachid and some of the charity runners, while Melissah decided to try her hand at camel riding.

After lunch there was time for a bit of haggling for gifts to take home. Tony secured himself 25 camels for a very reasonable price and Paul Doeh found that being a native French speaker made it harder to shrug off the salesmen as he couldn’t pretend not to understand.

Finally it was time to say goodbye to the Riad, the city and our wonderful hosts and board the flight home, many of the group vowing to be back again next year.

Sadly, getting any refreshments out of BA on the flight home was pretty much impossible. That company has gone downhill since Piers left. ...

Tokyo Marathon by Mike Duff

By rights, I probably shouldn’t be writing this race report.

In October last year after a flight to San Francisco a small vein started to protrude on the outside of my right calf, which I presumed was a varicose vein and decided to get seen once I got back from holiday. Meantime I continued to do my 20 and 22 milers in the Bay sunshine and even finish first veteran in the Bridge to Bridge 5k as part of my training for the New York Marathon, all the time completely oblivious to what was going on in my leg. The day after returning I saw the GP for what I assumed would be a routine referral and ended up being rushed to A&E for ultrasounds, x-rays and blood tests to diagnose a Deep Vein Thrombosis just below my right knee. Suddenly everything comes crashing down, you have no idea what this means for your future and you start feeling very, very mortal. New York was obviously out of the question given the potential consequences of another trans-Atlantic flight but as it hadn’t been causing me pain whilst running, I asked the consultant if I could start running again in some form perhaps in a week or two and was given the ok with the proviso to take it very easy and not to cut myself, as I was going to be on anti-coagulants for the next six months.

That night was spent scaring myself silly on Google, feeling sorry for myself and trying to work out how this was going to potentially affect my life. Next day there were still a hundred thoughts racing through my head but the one thing that usually helps me to clear my mind is to go for a run. So after a long debate with myself I decided that I was going to go to the track and even if it was slow, I was going to run. That decision was probably what got me to Tokyo - if I had left it even until the weekend then it would have festered in my mind and I wouldn’t have run for months. I made it round, nowhere near my normal pace, but it removed at least some of the demons in my mind. The first Sunday League cross-country was due that weekend and having committed to going I went through with what felt like the scariest race of my life. Every step was terrifying - worrying whether that jolt on the uneven surface was going to dislodge the blood clot, am I going to trip on the tree roots and dislodge the clot, am I going to get spiked and not stop bleeding. By the end, my brain was scrambled but I’d done it and was still in one piece which provided a real confidence boost.

The medication was starting to kick in and leaving me constantly tired so I didn’t run until the following weekend and, tiring badly towards the end of the run, ended up tripping, falling, giving myself a badly cut knee and draining all my confidence. It turns out I’d even lost out on the worst Thrombophlebitis contest to Jenny Baker. Back to square one and I didn’t run for a week but knew if I wanted to have any chance of making Tokyo I needed to start training in two weeks, so after giving myself another talking to I managed to force myself out to do a midweek run and cross country at the weekend to prove to myself I could at least run twice a week. Going through my plan with Mirka we decided to take the New York plan and remove the easy and recovery runs and have complete days off instead; the medication was leaving me finishing my runs with a face greyer than Aberdeen granite and not up to running two days in a row, but if I could at least do three sessions in a week I could get to the start line in some sort of shape.

So, week one, session one and a spectacular “heid o’er arse” fall on the track at Perivale cutting hands, elbows and knees - its amazing that as soon as someone tells you not to do something it suddenly becomes all you can seem to do (the track trip was later followed by a comedic slow motion fall on black ice in Aberdeen during a long run at Christmas to cut the other knee). However, this time I didn’t let it shake me and I kept up with the sessions - the pace wasn’t quite there but the stubbornness was and I was getting there. A few weeks later and the recoveries were getting easier – the next test was to try back to back days with a cameo at the Wormwood Scrubs Met League on the Saturday followed by the Perivale 5 on the Sunday. Another test passed and so by the end of December I’d managed to step up to 4 runs a week and was allowing myself to think that maybe under four hours was possible, and not just reaching the start.

Through January my pace gradually picked up and midway through I had a check-up with the consultant which confirmed that the clot had gone and I’d be safe to fly. I was going to make it to the start line and the training was going better than expected – maybe a PB was in reach. The extra run each week was making a difference and the less running early on seemed to have left me a bit fresher for the last few weeks before February’s taper. Ironically, after six previous attempts, the one where I started with DVT was the first one I’ve finished my training uninjured.

And so to the sensory overload that is downtown Tokyo - neon lights, huge video screens on every street corner booming out music and adverts and, of course, lots and lots of people. This meant that on race day you were never quite sure if you were being cheered on by spectators and on-course entertainment or listening to the Japanese X Factor winner and being sold car insurance.

We headed to the Expo on the first evening and although the content was pretty much the same as any other what was noticeable was the overwhelming friendliness of the volunteers. I’m not sure if this was just because I was an overseas runner but I was greeted by almost every volunteer and thanked profusely for coming to visit their city and run in their marathon.

Saturday was the Friendship Run which Angela and Ellen took part in and I’m sure will be the subject of a Duffrunning blog so won’t go into details here. It did however introduce us to the official sports drink of the marathon “Pocari Sweat” which as well as having an unfortunate name, has the rather unappetising tagline of “having the appropriate density and electrolytes, close to human body fluid”. Having made a mental note to stick to water next day, the rest of the day was spent taking it easy and carb loading on the oatcakes and Jaffa Cakes I’d managed to smuggle into the country.

Race day dawned and with the hotel being only a few hundred metres from the start line I figured I had plenty of time, but the starting area was chaos with understaffed security checks just to get in, baggage lorries at the opposite end to the entry gate I was given and less toilets than the Ealing Half for over 36,000 runners. Having finally managed to drop my bag and given up any hope of getting to the loos I ended up getting into my start pen with only a minute to spare which left me a bit flustered and it took a bit of time to get my focus back on the task in hand. My ethos of “just making the start line is a result” was being severely tested but after the struggle to get here I was determined to stay relaxed and enjoy the race regardless of what happened.

The start itself was fairly low-key – a quick introduction of the elite runners, a confetti cannon and then we were off. Maybe it was because I was starting a bit further up the pack but, compared to London, the field started to move fairly quickly and I managed to get into my running within the first couple of hundred metres. Unfortunately, the first two kilometres also seem to be the Tokyo equivalent of Canary Wharf with satellite reception going haywire and showing me having a quick jog up to the 12th floor of one of the nearby skyscrapers before getting on with the race, so my distances were already about 300m too long by the time I passed the 2km marker. After that, the markers seemed to be pretty much spot on and it was nice to have the course measured in kilometres for a change as I do all my training in kilometres (miles are too far).

The toilet stops were frequent and well signposted with service station style signs telling you the distance to the next stop as well so you can plan if you can make it to the next one, meaning I didn’t lose too much time making up for not managing to go pre-race and by 8k I was pretty much back on my target pace. The water stations were also very regular with plenty of tables at each to avoid too much of a scramble although I did walk through them to avoid throwing most of the cup over myself.

At 10k you start the first of the three out and back sections that make up the rest of the course which gave the chance to see the leading wheelchair racers coming back the other way. The out section takes you to 15k and the turning point probably sums up the city perfectly – you run toward the almost 400 year old Kaminarimon Gate at Senso-ji Temple (the one with the huge paper lanterns) and then turn right to be confronted by the 4 year old Skytree Tower.

Almost from the start the crowd was really supportive but not as overbearing as London can be, and they seemed to be picking out the international runners for additional shouts of encouragement which I found a real help in keeping me relaxed and enjoying the race. I even managed to Eagle for the camera. A glance at my watch showed I’d nudged slightly ahead of pace at 15k and I was still feeling good – so far so good.

From 16k you follow another out and back through halfway and up to 25k. The elite runners had long since passed but there was a steady stream of sub-3 hour runners coming the other way. At 20k my pace had picked up again slightly and then again at 25k – I was going to pay for this sooner or later. By this point the temperature had started to edge up and after spending the majority of my training in temperatures hovering around freezing the sudden jump to the mid-teens was not particularly welcome, so although the crowds thin out between 25 and 30k the skyscrapers lining the route were providing a useful sunblock. Another 5k checkpoint and my pace had picked up again – surely I couldn’t keep this going?

30k onwards is the final and toughest out and back – just over 5k straight into a strong headwind and slightly uphill all the way but the crowds are back and pushing you along before turning for the long run home. For those towards the back of the pack I could see this stretch being a bit soul destroying as the crowds drift away and there are fewer and fewer runners on the opposite side of the road. I manage to keep pushing my pace along and reach 35k with a bit of a cushion to 3:30. This was getting into uncharted territory – I’ve never managed to run beyond 23 miles in a marathon. I kept thinking the wheels must come off soon but I reached 40k still running and increasing my pace. Things were twinging but nothing serious.

Then at 41k, just as I entered the last stretch to the finish, my hamstring pulled slightly and I stopped to walk just as the crowd was building and the noise increasing – sod it, I thought. I’ve got less than 5 minutes, I can run this. I broke into a run again.

The last kilometre gets noisier and noisier until the final corner and then…..well, nothing. An empty plaza that leaves you wondering if you took a wrong turn then you eventually spot a timing mat and a small race clock to confirm that, yes, this is actually the finish line. Despite the underwhelming finish area I raised my arms in celebration and relief at finally breaking 3:30, crossing the line in 3:27:45.

This was the point where Tokyo really let itself down. There was no water at the finish. Or round the corner from the finish. Or for another kilometre. They seemed to have gone out of their way to stretch out the finishing zone as far as possible before giving you anything to drink and even then it’s genetically engineered Sweat. Then you receive your medal and a finisher’s towel which is really nice and something different to the usual finishing line goodies. Eventually you receive a bag with water in it but then have another kilometre to walk to pick up your bag, although the guard of honour that Tom mentioned was still going strong when I got there. I suspect they were still going strong for those coming in at 6 and 7 hours because the volunteers across the weekend all just seemed so insanely polite, happy to be there and genuinely pleased to see you. Once I had my bag it was off to the meeting point to be reunited with Angela. Oh – that’s right, there’s no meeting point. After a few texts and descriptions of buildings we eventually managed to all meet up.

As Tom mentioned, it’s a relatively new race and they are still sorting themselves out year by year. None of the little gripes need big or difficult fixes – a few banks of urinals in the start area would halve the toilet queues, using some of the acres of space at the finish line to store crates of water, squashing up the finishing zone to half the length and a few poles with letters on in Hibiya park to act as a meeting point are all easily done and I’m sure the race will continue to grow and improve.

Despite the issues at the start and finish I loved the race itself and credit to all the volunteers along the way for making the event.

Wilson Kipsang may have won but he didn’t get a PB so I’ve got one up on him there.

I’m not running – but my nose is…

Firstly, I must apologise for the time that has elapsed since my last blog.  Not because I believe you were waiting with bated breath for the next instalment, but because in winning a ballot place I did promise to write a regular blog.

I suspect training blogs are easier to produce when you’re getting the miles in and everything is going well and according to plan. Alas, I am at pains to report that this is not the case here.   

Now I don’t tend to get colds.  I had one last year and that was the first in about six years. I think I had another one about four years prior to that.  So you’ll appreciate my surprise and disappointment when about three weeks ago I came down with my worst cold in a decade.

This was a chesty little number that refused to budge and left me so blocked up that eating and breathing became quite separate pastimes.  Running with what feels like the contents of a swamp sitting on your chest is never a good idea as I discovered to my cost.  It just makes you feel a hell of a lot worse. But let’s not be over-dramatic; it is after all only a cold and I refuse to big-it-up as ‘man flu’.  

After about a fortnight it started to lift, but by then I had missed out on several training runs.  As it happens this is somewhat of a moot point because just prior to my cold I had thoughtfully added to my injury list. My left leg, which until now had remained injury-free, decided it was time join in the fun and chose my Achilles is its weapon of choice.

Now my list of injuries is impressive, or possibly depressive depending on your point of view.   I’m often asked if I have been increasing my mileage by too much too quickly. “Chance would be a fine thing,” is my usual reply.

I’m then usually asked any or all of the following: Are you warming up properly?  Are you strength training?  Are you cross-training?  Are you stretching? Are you foam rolling?  Have you had gait analysis?  Have you seen a physio? The answer to all of these is yes, so if you see me please don’t ask me again.  

I should stress that I am not looking for any sympathy here.  I’m telling you because I agreed to write a blog about my training, and to my mind that means telling you how it is, the good, the bad and the ugly.

So yes the training is not going very well and I’m miles behind where I’d like to be.  However I’m nothing if not tenacious and I’m not giving up yet.  I have been heading to gym (colds permitting) in an effort not to lose too much cardio fitness whilst my injury hopefully improves.  I must say that two hour’s running outside passes a lot quicker than one hour on the cross-trainer.  Bloody hell gyms are so tedious!  

They’re full of very odd people too.  Yesterday I observed a woman walking very slowly on the treadmill whist reading a book she had spread out across the display panel.  What’s the point of that? There are people in comas exerting more effort than this woman.   The recently deceased have more get-up-and-go.  Utterly ridiculous.

Anyway, if you’re in need of further amusement I think my cold is coming back again. Last night I was kept awake by a runny nose of near diluvial proportions.  Still, mustn’t grumble, hopefully it will pass

If I do make it to the start line then like many others getting there won’t have been without its challenges.  But even if I don’t make it, I’ll pride myself in the fact that I’ve put in more effort than the weirdo on the treadmill.

I’ll keep you posted…

Tokyo Marathon by Tom Easten

The main problem with becoming obsessed with completing all six World Marathon Majors is not particularly the running six marathons, it’s the word ‘world’. Inconveniently, only one of them is in my home city. You’d think they would have put a few more in London to make things a bit easier for me. It becomes rather an expensive business and one that takes a good deal of planning and time, especially when there’s a three-year- old in tow. With all that in mind, Tokyo was always going to be a challenge but the series wouldn’t be complete without it and Japan has long been somewhere I’ve wanted to see; I just needed a good reason to make the trip. Getting extraordinarily lucky in my first attempt at the marathon ballot (most of my friends missed out and one chap I spoke to after the Boston Marathon last year had been throwing his hat in the ring for ten years without any luck) was the spur I and my long-suffering wife needed to get the flights booked and make the trip one to remember.

Although it promised to be an extraordinary experience, we both dreaded our departure in a funny kind of way. The emails from the organisers didn’t fill me with confidence; it was all rather haphazard and far from the slick, seasoned operations I’d seen in Boston, London and Berlin. In fairness to them, the Tokyo marathon is young in comparison to its competitors and has grown enormously in a short space of time. They must still be getting to grips with all the issues it throws at them and doing their best to improve things just a little, year on year. Still, there was an uncomfortable sense that the powers that be were flying by the seat of their pants and that’s ever so slightly alarming when you’ve got a few other worries to contend with, such as surviving 18 hours of travelling with a toddler and the prospect of managing the Tokyo transit system, which looks like Jackson Pollock has thrown a giant bowl of noodles at the world’s largest canvas and then given it to my daughter to doodle over. Terrifying. Sometimes, though, you just have to throw yourself in and deal with it and we managed to make the trip, find our apartment and get the hang of train tickets without any major trauma, thanks to my better half and her relentless planning.

The expo was pretty standard stuff, little different from its counterparts at other big city races, which restored a bit of confidence to proceedings. We arrived at midnight on Thursday, visited it on the Friday and were still trying to get over the jet lag by Saturday. Race day had crept right up on me as this time, we’d decided to do things the other way around from Boston, where we had to have the holiday part of the trip first with the race at the end, so as to fly back for the London Marathon the following weekend. Now, the idea was to get the race out of the way early so we could enjoy Japan for as much time as possible afterwards. Better, but it doesn’t make for the best performance; not to make excuses (I actually am making excuses) but you’re unlikely to give your best when you arrive at the start line still exhausted from your travelling. That was always going to be the case though, and it took the pressure off to a large extent; Tokyo was unlikely to be my best performance of the year for that reason (and because I loathe winter training and wasn’t in tip-top shape leading up to the race anyway) so it was very much a case of give it my best shot and hope all the stars are in alignment, the wind is at my back and it’s one of those days when you can’t put a foot wrong. But then accept that it probably won’t be and adjust expectations accordingly.

So it was that I arrived at the start line fully expecting to have a decent first three-quarters but suffer and slow in the last 10k and end up with a decent but not spectacular time, which is precisely how things panned out. The start area itself was slightly odd; bringing a bottle of water through security wasn’t allowed, for reasons that still escape me, and that nagging feeling that the organisers were a little out of their depth began to creep back in. There was a slightly amateurish feel to things and the starting pen and line itself were remarkably low-key for such a major event. Boston had its pair of Black Hawk helicopters and star-spangled pomp, Berlin had its pyrotechnics, big screens and important-sounding announcer. Tokyo had a strange little hymn of sorts which was probably meaningful to the Japanese competitors but lost on everyone else and a couple of small smoke machines (they could have been tiny fireworks but you couldn’t see) next to the start line and then we were off, in as anticlimactic a manner as could have been arranged.

So, to the race itself and its aftermath. I’m going to be a bit critical of certain things, but there were plenty of good points so let’s give them a nod first: the aid stations were very frequent, offering water and electrolyte replacement drinks from the off and more substantial stuff later, for those who enjoy a bread roll, some tomatoes and a banana in the second half of their race; there were plenty of very well-signposted toilets on the route for those people who want them (I never do); the distance markers (kilometres only but no surprise and indeed no problem there) seemed accurately placed and were very visible, along with timing mats every 5k for tracking and post-race analysis; there was great support on the course for those who appreciate such things (I don’t personally like being yelled at by strangers during any run); and the frequent out-and- back stretches, while disliked by some, I enjoyed, as they gave me a chance to spot Wilson Kipsang roaring away at the front a few times and also allowed me to scope out the terrain of the miles immediately in front of me as I ran the other way.

Now, the not-so- great aspects: the organisers inexplicably placed crowds of slow runners at the very front of the starting pen, providing me and hundreds of others with the dubious pleasure of still having to weave around girls jogging along in rabbit ears in the second 5k. Large races are often crowded at the start but I’ve never felt so frustrated at being unable to run at more than jogging pace for such a long time; to record any kind of decent splits for the first few miles meant sprinting, darting sideways, halting, jogging, sprinting through another gap, hopping on the pavement a bit, running in the gutter and doing anything I possibly could to keep the numbers on my watch going in the right direction. The result was that I got to about 10k in a decent enough time but all over the place in terms of my rhythm and pace. Not an enjoyable start. There were no particular issues for the rest of the race, apart from my own poor fuelling strategies and customary dodgy last 10k. I was in such poor shape that I was even more desperate than usual to see the finish arch (“why the hell am I doing this again in London in two months? I hate this crap”) except there wasn’t one. If I hadn’t known exactly where I was on the course having studied the map beforehand, I wouldn’t have known I’d finished until I was crossing the line. Again, very low-key stuff. No arch, no gantry, just a couple of signs saying ‘Finish’ either side of the timing mats and a few guys standing around, alarmingly empty-handed. No sign of medals or, more importantly, water. “Ah,” I thought, “we turn around this corner to the left. It must be just round there.” Nothing. Just another empty bit of road with a few nervous-looking marshals who’d clearly been told to do little but smile and clap. So I kept walking, around the next corner, where, finally, the same electrolyte drink was waiting. Enticingly called ‘Pocari Sweat’, I decided to give it a miss and wait for the water, which arrived what seemed like several years later, along with such things as a rather nice finisher’s towel and the sweetest peanut butter sandwich known to science. The medal is rather nice, I’ll give them that, but marks deducted by annoying the hell out of me before I got it by the wholly unnecessary vast expanses between the finish line and the freebies. If I was annoyed by then, the long, Dr Zhivago-like trudge to the bags reclaim tipped me into the realms of murderous rage, delayed further as it was by a grinning photographer who insisted I stop and adjust my towel and clothing sufficiently for him to get the optimum shot of my race number. I could have shoved my ‘Pocari Sweat’ where he would have had considerable difficulty extracting it. It was hard to stay angry for long, however, as I was the only runner in the bags area at the time (my finishing time was 2:47, ahead of the main crowds, if I may be so bold) so I received an ovation and high-fives from every one of the hundred-odd orange-jacketed marshals on duty who formed a kind of human tunnel of congratulation leading to my little bag of green trousers and cigars. A surreal experience indeed. 

Looking back at this rambling diatribe, there’s been plenty of complaining but none unfair, I think.  That said, I’ve never regretted entering a marathon (once I’ve recovered a bit) and the extraordinary experience of the journey to Japan, negotiating Tokyo and taking part in a race with tens of thousands of others and some of the world’s top marathon runners far outweighs any of the negatives. If you enter this race yourself, just make sure to manage your expectations and you’ll have a great time. Don’t expect seamless organisation; you won’t get it. But at least they make the trains run on time.

Now for London. With Chicago looming large in the background…

Forgive me Eagles for I have sinned, it's been 4 weeks since my last blog!

So far I am still on plan. I've had some great runs and some tough but buzzing runs. I can't believe we are over the halfway mark!

During the past four weeks I have gone way past my previous longest mileage. Angela and I ran seventeen miles of the London marathon route and had a ball. I was terrified beforehand ( more on that later) but we did it. Turning onto the mall knowing next time would be the end of one of the biggest achievements of my life was something special :-)

I have been super lucky with marathon buddies and support. Big shout out to Mark, Angela and to Laura but also to each and everyone of you. I honestly could not be doing this without your help and encouragement. 

"Use your arms"

Long run anxiety: I debated whether to write about this or not but this is me and if anyone else goes through this maybe it could help. 

I suffer so badly from long run anxiety. I used to be anxious generally and constantly worrying about what I said, what people thought etc...that has gone by the wayside! I am what I am and I need no excuses ( and all that jazz!) but I get crippled by the thought pre long runs of 'what if I can't?'

To me in times like this I think I revert back and still see myself as the hugely overweight girl I used to be ( not that I'm a petite thing now but I was over seventeen stone previously!) I look at the long run and the first thing I think is what if I can't? What if I slow whoever I'm running with down? What if they insist on slowing down? What if it's just too much? All things that people can rationalise but these thoughts get to me. Yes, in theory I know I can do it. Some of the distances I have done before so why wouldn't I be able to? I guess being poorly last year has taken its toll too. I get in a real state the night before every long run. In fact I went to Brighton by myself on Sunday because I didn't want anyone to feel I was being negative....which is how understandably it can be construed but it is so not that. 

Why put yourself through it some might ask? 

Because as soon as I start I love it. I love what running gives me. It makes me feel good. It puts a smile on my face. It makes me challenge myself. It gives me headspace. It gives me me time. It makes me feel proud. It makes me feel I'm being a good role model for my children. It makes me feel part of an amazing community. 

Right now it's something I can't seem to stop but it is there. I keep in the forefront of my mind how I will feel during and afterwards and that is what keeps me going. 

Running has given me so much. You lot for a start! I feel fitter, stronger and have much more energy for everything. 

I hope no one thinks this is a negative blog....it really isn't. I am feeling good. Every bit of my plan so far has gone to plan. I'm entering the second half feeling strong. I'm still so excited and feel so privileged to be representing the club. 

I love running, I love you lot. I can not wait to run the London marathon :-) 

Showing off the bling

Staying Positive (Almost)

I am aware that I have not exactly been putting a positive spin on my training experience so far, despite getting a fair few miles under my belt and avoiding any serious damage to myself.  Maybe it is the time of year or maybe I really did make myself sick of it doing my half marathon challenge in 2016.  These last two weeks I have wavered on a couple of occasions.  The training regime seems incompatible with me going out to socialise and enjoy myself, so if I were taking it super seriously, I would lay off the booze from now.  But instead I find myself wondering if it’s the running that’s getting in the way of my enjoying life.  I need to focus on the goal at the end, getting to run the London Marathon and the amazing experience that I know that it will be.  That really is going to be the light at the end of the tunnel, because right now it still seems like a bit of a hard slog.  I know that this training will not be forever.  The weeks seem to be falling away quite quickly, the coming spring brings with it the prospect of the rest of training being a bit more pleasant, and I get ever closer to the blessed time when I can taper and relax.
 
Week 5 - 66 miles
 
The weeks always seem to start well and then get tougher.  It is always a nice surprise to discover that Monday’s sore legs have a bit more go in them than I expect.  I find that I have a bit too much energy sometimes and it is hard to keep at 8 minute miles when it's more fun to go nearer 7.  This is what happened on Wednesday when I ran what was supposed to be a shortish slow run both longer and faster than I should have done.  I enjoyed it but suffered a little afterwards.  After I ran to work on Thursday, the familiar pains around my hip told me I should abandon the plan for the fast lunchtime session.  I rested in preparation for the challenge to come.

Of all the things you can do during your training, a double race weekend probably isn't one of them.  It started off at Alexandra Palace, where I had some unfinished business with Met League cross-country.  Resolved to not repeat my slippery mistake of last time, I equipped myself with some brand new spike shoes, a bargain at £30 including two more sets of spikes.  I fitted the 15mm ones to make sure I had some grip.  Sharp as hell, they made the shoes into lethal weapons and I wondered if they were allowed on public transport.  Handy to keep around in case of burglars, I guess.  

The snow had stopped by the time I got to Ally Pally but it was still cold and gloomy, although nice to be with my fellow Eagles.  The five miles consisted of three laps, each a flat circuit apart from the big hill going up to the palace.  Half a mile in, I was bitterly regretting going to the pub the night before.  Just a couple of miles with the new spikes made me feel like I was going to sprain an ankle.  The shoes were now way too grippy for what I was expecting.  When I needed a bit of slide in the tight turns, I wasn't getting any at all.  I had to learn how to run in those things while I was racing.  I changed my technique a bit and it felt ok enough after that.  I was determined not to let Santry beat me this time but he passed me right before the finish, so I didn't even have that.  Still, I made a first team place this time and I contributed in a small way to the Eagles men winning Division Three. 

Sunday my plan said run a half marathon.  It didn't say run the cross country the day before though.  I had said to myself that I would not run any half marathons as part of this training: not after what happened last year.  Yet still I'm signed up for Fleet because of the Welsh Castles Relay qualification, and here I was in Vicky Park for the only half marathon that day that wasn't too much of a hassle to get to.  The organisers tried to get people enthusiastic but it's a difficult job in the wintertime.  I set off at marathon pace but it took less than a mile for my shins to make it known that they had other ideas.  All the ankle work of the day before had taken its toll. The four lap route was pleasant enough and I would have enjoyed it more if I had been in better shape.  The pain eased off like I hoped it would, but that wasn't until the halfway point.  After that, the going was easier but I could have sworn I was going faster than my Garmin was telling me.  I finished in just over 1:32: not what I had hoped for at all. As soon as I stopped, I was suddenly aware that my hands were so cold that I couldn't feel them, and my shins and right calf quickly seized up.  I had to hobble as quickly as I could out of there and back towards my bed.

Failing this test gave me a few doubts about how well the training was really going and whether I was going to be able to even attempt to run this marathon as fast as I wanted.  I had been telling myself that I had to try for sub 3, but that wasn't necessary my goal when I started all this.  I just need to do what I can and enjoy it.

Week 6 - 53 miles

There had to be at least one week where I had to be a bit less ambitious with my mileage and, because my ankle-related problems ended up persisting a while, this turned out to be one of them.  I started off trying though, although I was tired to begin with and got more tired from there.  Monday's cross-country was painful but successful and Tuesday I swapped in a long slow run, which I made sure I did slow enough this time.  I attempted the track on Wednesday and it turned out to be a killer session in more ways than one.  Twenty lots of 200m seemed to do wonders for my sprinting but it finished my legs off for the week.  I was just too knackered to do anything on Thursday and two days rest turned into three when parkrun got dropped as well.  Not running made me feel a bit more lively, at least.

I had only Sunday evening to get my long run in and redeem my mileage for the week.  It seemed appropriate to revisit my old favourite night route: passing all Piccadilly Line stations between home and Hammersmith and then going back along the north side Thames Path, which is lit apart from a couple of stretches where you need to be careful.  I added on a loop to circumnavigate Osterley Park and start with Osterley station.  The resting had brought on a bit of soreness but that subsided fairly quickly.  I found it fun to just run a route without knowing how long it would turn out to be; it was just like the old days.  I guessed it would be about 20 miles but I had already clocked seven by the time I passed Boston Manor.  I ended up running 23.  I let go of the pace in the last five miles so I could finish in one piece, and also avoid tripping along the dark canal.  I still managed an 8:01 pace overall, and running for more than three hours was just the training I knew I needed to last the marathon distance.  I don't need to tell you that it hurt after that.

I'm happy that there is only nine weeks to go now, including the taper.  Even though I'm less than halfway, it feels like I'm over the hump.  I look forward to the time when my legs will feel fresh again, and I hope they can do what I ask of them when I put them to the test.  I don't feel too daunted by the prospect of doing the marathon at the end of it because the training has challenged me enough.  I guess that is the whole point of it.
 

Harry's VLM Blog 3 - 65 Days to Go!

Well, first I must apologise – it has been almost a month since my last blog. This is partly because I’m no Caitlin Moran - I struggle to think of anything to write that would be worth reading – and partly because I got out of the habit of taking a picture. I’ve been running 4 or 5 times a week, one of which will be hills or a track session and one a long run at the weekend, in total 40 to 45 miles a week. Overall it has a reasonable semblance to the plan, even if it differs in the details.

I’m still getting the odd twinge, like suddenly feeling a pain in the arch of my sole (plantar fasciitis?!), and then it goes, then I feel it again, but can’t remember if it is the same foot or not, and then it goes again. Sometimes when I wake up various joints are stiff and I shuffle down the stairs, but then that is no different to before I started marathon training. So all in all, fingers crossed, touch wood, the body is holding together.

To be fair there have been a few highlights. I’d given myself a 2 day taper for the Battersea 10k as it was club champs race, and was a just a few seconds off a PB. Chris Lambert mentioned our 17 mile long run, where I managed to navigate a new route by the railway past Chiswick and Barnes stations. A lost Irish lady joined us in the park, claiming she was not as fit as she used to be. Turned out she was 12th woman in the 1984 London marathon. The following week I ran with Kieran to the Burgess Parkrun. I hadn’t run the route through Hammersmith, Kensington and Victoria before. Kieran had highlighted the last part through Kennington in a post with “This is the bit where we might get lost!”, and indeed, an unintentional detour meant we approached the park at five past 9. Fortunately they were not as prompt as the Gunnersbury team, so looking forward to lift back courtesy of Paul, I set off a ridiculous pace on the flat course which my tired legs couldn’t maintain.

The following Tuesday Ben Cale had arranged a timed 5k down at Osterley track, which I decided my flexible plan could accommodate. Just as well, as Melissah had given up looking for the track and was heading home when I bumped into her on the way there. I found setting up the Garmin to beep the pace every kilometre helped keep track of the laps, and using others as pacers dragged me round to sprint finish and a big new PB. Perhaps all this training was doing me good.

Last weekend there was a big shout out for the last MET League cross country of the season at Ally Pally to try to overhaul Highgate C to the league 3 title, which was an excuse to add some mud to the hills in the training plan. I really enjoyed mixing it with Eagles who would have been out of sight ahead in the past, though I didn’t have much left in me for the third time up the muddy hill. A commemorative towel at the finish was an unexpected bonus. Cross country is a great way to get to know other Eagles over a post-race pint – get yourself a pair of spikes and join in.

This week the training plan needed to flex around half term and a couple of days off in Brighton with the family. Both my children picked up a vomiting bug, which has spoilt their holiday a bit, but gave me a free morning, so I took the opportunity to get a good long run in early with a 20 mile run around the canal with a diversion down to Osterley House. The towpath is generally in good nick, but the corner on the other side of Southall is a bit muddy and worth cutting off. Note also a stretch including the aqueduct over the North Circular - a favourite bit of mine on the run into work – is blocked off until March, though the detour isn’t too tricky via an underpass to the South. The picture for this blog is the three bridges North of Osterley, where the canal simultaneously goes over a railway and under a road, built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel in 1859. Genius.

Cross Country Double Header! by John Foxall

Ealing Eagles had much to celebrate as the curtain came down on another cross country season with a challenging double header last weekend.

Saturday

As the temperatures fell in the week, snow followed rain and challenging conditions were assured. All the talk was of 15mm spikes, mud and guts as the men went for promotion in the Met League at Alexandra Palace. There was no let down as a tremendous turn out of twenty-five Eagle men toed the line, eagerly awaiting the starters’ pistol.

After a false start (did he forget to load the gun?) we were off, feet squelching through the mud with every foot step but already going at quite some speed as the frontrunners set a frightening pace. The course took us up the steep hill to the palace three times and hurtling back down the hill past runners and supporters cheering us on. The only thing missing was some good honest booing, which perhaps explains why Tom Easten decided not to renew his love affair with Cross Country. 

As ever, José Manuel Pabon led the Eagles’ charge and was first to finish the five mile course in 98th place. He was shortly followed by John Foxall and Ewan Fryatt, who made sure not to let the club down by finishing in exactly 120th place as promised. Next home was the returning Ricardo Agostinho. The Eagles’ scoring eight was completed as Kieran Santry, Philip Evans, Chris Lambert and Kieran Morrisroe crossed the line in quick succession.

The men won promotion by topping division 3 by a significant margin and the mens’ veterans likewise by finishing in second place in division 3.

After promotion last season, the women finished in a solid 6th position while the veterans also gained promotion. Jennifer Watt finished in an excellent 48th place and the scoring five was completed by Marion Bolster, Sophie Foxall, Sarah MacKenzie and Emily Schmidt.

Sunday

On Sunday, it was an early start and the Eagles were met with bitter cold and snow more akin to a biathlon competition than a XC fixture. Royston is perhaps the most testing XC course of the season and it seems like you are always running up a punishing hill or throwing yourself down a steep descent. Runners adapt tactics to suit their strengths, as evidenced by Frank Doyle and Melissah Gibson, taking it in turns to overtake each other time after time on the hills and descents!

After 9km and 250m of testing hills, Melissah was first home for the women in 4th place overall. Jen Watt was next in 5th place. Hannah Copeland has returned from injury to look as strong a XC runner as ever and finished a minute later in 9th place. Another convincing victory was secured with Ellen Easten (11th), Maria Fitzgerald (13th) and Yvonne Linney (16th).

After finishing 2nd placed senior team last year, the Eagles women went one better this year. With 338 points from the 5 fixtures to Heathside’s 688, they won by a country mile in the end!

Just for good measure, the Vets finished second in the league after last year’s first place. Hearty congratulations to all those women who contributed to a successful season. A more serious Eagle would name them but I’m too lazy to check.

Final Thoughts
1. Well done to all those Eagles who did the double over the weekend – you are hard and you know it.
2. Well done to all those Eagles who took their first steps in XC this season. I know you loved it and if you didn’t … well just keep quiet about it. In all seriousness, dozens of you lot decided you fancied giving XC a try and most people though it was reasonably fun and something a bit different!
3. XC offers you a chance to get to know your city better. Parliament Hill on race-day is quite a sight and you can now say you’ve been to Cockfosters, Claybury, Ally Pally and more. The sun was out when we ran at Wormwood Scrubs … enough said.
4. The standard of competition is ridiculously high, especially in the MET League, which celebrated its 50th season this year. The souvenir towel was a nice bonus. You can toe the line alongside runners who have represented their country, but everyone still has to traipse through the mud and up the hills! It’s great fun and if it’s good enough for Hawkins, Butchart and Farah it’s good enough for us.
5. You can sense a growing camaraderie in the club when you see how many of us turn up to XC fixtures. We can barely all fit in the team photos now. Many thanks to Kieran Santry, Sarah Mackenzie and Thom Martini for rallying the troops and organising us throughout the season. We couldn’t do it without you!
6. Forget the watches, plans and don’t worry about your pace. Just get over the hill(s) and through the mud! XC is gloriously simple. Mud is awesome… obvs.
7. Let them eat cake. The club has some exceedingly good bakers. But you need to do XC to find out just how good…

On a personal note, I’m not ready to give up on mud just yet. I’ve signed up for Orion 15 in March. No doubt I’ll see some of you there.
 

Beginner's Graduation & Next Improver's Course

10k – the next step after 5k! 

Have you completed the club beginners’ programme or are otherwise able to run 5.5k?

Currently running at or willing to run at a pace of 8min/k (parkrun 5k in 40mins)?

Want to run faster and further?

Come along to beginners’ graduation and find out more about increasing your distance, talk about training plans and discuss opportunities for training.

You will find us in the Rose & Crown on Wednesday 22 February from 7.30pm and in FarmW5 on Thursday 23 February from 11am.

In particular, with the January beginners’ programme finishing at the end of February, a second Improvers course will be starting 10am on Thursday 2 March (with a holiday on Maundy Thursday 13 April). This course will aim to progress Eagles from running 5.5k to running a 10k race at the beginning of May and to provide an introduction to speed work.

There is no requirement to attend all the sessions but you will make most progress if you do and you will also be expected to do “homework” outside the Thursday sessions as part of a training plan for 10k.

The length of the sessions will necessarily depend on the distance being run that day but you should allow from about an hour to 1 ½ hours. Most sessions will meet in Gunnersbury Park.

Update on Club Championships for 2017 - 2018

Thank you everyone for all your feedback on how to improve Club Championships for the next year!  Whilst we are still finalising the rules we wanted to publicise some of the Club Championship events that are coming up in the next few months so you can start to plan your training and book some races!  Facebook events will be set up for all these races and the Race Calendar on the website will be updated.

Westminster Mile

Date: Sunday 28th May 2017
Race Costs: £8
https://www.vitalitywestminstermile.co.uk/

Second Sunday 5 miles on Wimbledon Common

Date: Sunday 14th May 2017
Race Costs: £3
http://www.secondsunday5.com/
 

Summer League

Two 10km races will be Club Championship races:

Regent's Park on 16th July 2017

Battersea Park on 20th August 2017

Race Costs: Free

Harlow 10 Miles

Date: Sunday 3rd September 2017
Race Costs: £15 approx
http://www.thehrc.org.uk/harlow102017.htm
(this isn't open for entry yet so save the date!)

Burnham Beeches Half Marathon

Date: Sunday 13th August 2017
Race Costs:£24
http://bbhm.burnhamjoggers.org.uk/ 

The rest of the races as well as all the updated rules will be published shortly.

For more information on Club Championships please see the relevant section of the website (http://www.ealingeagles.com/club-championships/) or for further information please contact race@ealingeagles.com

Brighton Marathon Places!

If anyone is looking for a last minute entry to The (sold out) Brighton Marathon this year we have access to some club places which will need to be claimed by 20th February. If you're interested please contact Olivia on membership@ealingeagles.com

Please see message from the organisers:

England Athletics Club Entry:

We are pleased to announce that England Athletics registered athletes can now apply for a guaranteed entry into the 2017 Brighton Marathon. Entries are limited per club according to the number of first claim registered members.

Entry into the Brighton Marathon costs £69.50 and entries must be applied for through your Club Secretary. If you are interested in entering the Brighton Marathon via the England Athletics Club entry, please speak to your Club Secretary. We can only accept requests to enter from Club Secretaries.