Stoptober 2012

[Sweder]

I got a bit of a shock as I settled down to watch Strictly on Saturday night. A tweet popped up from Tom Roper, saying how sorry he was that he wouldn't be able to join me tomorrow on the Lewes Downland 10. I read it twice before replying 'is that tomorrow?' It was.

I'd entered the race a couple of weeks back and promptly forgotten all about it. My race number and directions arrived last week (whilst I was in Brum) and still sat on my desk. Hmm. There was a five mile option but there was no time to change. I thought about it for a while, decided to sleep on it and see how I felt in the morning.

This morning a weak sun did it's best to shine on a perfect autumnal day. Mist lingered in the vale, birds swooped and chirrupped in the garden and a gentle breeze ruffled the turning leaves. What the heck, may as well give it a go. Sticking to my carb-light regime I downed a plate of eggs, bacon and baked beans, sluiced down with a sugar-free coffee and some water, before setting off for the start. My hopes were realistic. This would be my longest run since the Seaford Half back in June. My previous time in the race was 1:26, but anything under 1:50 would be reasonable.

The course is tough enough, offering long climbs and steep drops. Mother Nature had chipped in with a week's worth of rain, adding a slippery slime to the trenches. The first six miles passed without incident. I chugged along quite happily, soaking up the race-day atmosphere, drinking in the views across the downs. I coped with the hill climbs, shortening my stride, pumping my arms, working hard. I took it easy on the drops, saving energy for that brutal mile seven. And brutal it was. The woodland trail appears flat, the sole-sucking sludge running an apparently level course through the trees. My legs told a different story. Thighs creaked, calves groaned, knees and hips grumbled. We were climbing, no doubt about it. Gradually, inexorably, the incline increased, winding into an impossibly steep scramble as we neared the other side of the wood. I started walking long before the steepest section, a good quarter of a mile before we emerged, blinking, into the daylight. I walked again, first up the west face of Blackcap and again up Wicker Man Hill. My legs were burning, outraged at my unreasonable demands.

All this walking paid off, for I managed a veritable sprint finish, careering down the grassy slope to cross the line in 1:37 and change. Wholly acceptable given the conditions, not least my own. Now, on to week two of my personal road to Perdition. No carbs, please.

My day was capped nicely as Lewes Ladies handed QPR Ladies their hats, dominating their contest in all but scoreline, the Rookettes running out 2-1 victors. Three points and fifth in the table, above Spurs and QPR. Happy days.