Sheffield Thursday to Tuesday

That's a sophisticated football joke by the way, but is also true. I had a course in Sheffield running from Friday to Tuesday so I went down on the Thursday. The course was on Internal Family Systems and was fascinating but I'm going to tell you about the rest of the time I was there. I didn't want to spend any money if I could help it and I wanted to get some runs in. When I arrived I thought that, rather than waste my money on a taxi, I'd walk to my hotel. My phone is challenged for memory and the app for finding places doesn't work so I'd printed off a couple of google maps. How hard could it be? 

Somehow or other I went fantastically wrong, heading South instead of West. After walking with a huge rucksack for over an hour (the hotel was only 2 miles away) I decided to swallow my pride and ask some directions. I asked a man in a vegan food shop and my asking seemed to make him a bit nervous and angry. He kept shaking his head and saying I was way wrong. I was way wrong but not THAT wrong. Anyway, he pointed me in the right direction and in a while I got in the swing of asking people if I was going the right way. This is how we used to do it in the olden days. It would have helped if I knew the name of anywhere I was trying to get to. I knew it was quite near the Botanical Gardens and also Endcliffe Park. In another hour I got there. I was pretty tired. The hotel was really just an extra block of student halls on a student campus, except without the students. There was a little cafe that was also reception or a reception that was also a cafe. They could heat up a pizza in a microwave for you so I had that, being too worn out for any more adventures that day.

When I told Peter I'd had pizza he was jealous but actually it was like cardboard and I burned the roof of my mouth on the cheese and it cost £5.50. I didn't "eat out" again after that.

The room was nice though. The bed was right next to the window so you could get fresh air in the night and then close it when the student parties got too loud. On the Friday night someone seemed to have a party that was maybe 20 people screaming for 4 hours. I liked a party myself back in the day but I don't think we ever made so - much - noise. I think they're doing it wrong.

After that 1st night pizza, I went to Tescos and got provisions and lived on cheese salad sandwiches for the rest of my time there. During the day I hung all my food in a bag in the wardrobe in case there were bears or anyone had an objection to me keeping food in a hot room.

I checked in with Buchanan each evening whilst dining.

I'm not good in the evenings so I thought if I was going to get a few runs in it would have to be in the morning. So I got up at 5am and went out. I didn't take my camera on the first day as I didn't know if I was likely to get robbed or not. I actually tried to run to the station just to see if I could make a better job of it this time - but I got lost again. Not so badly lost, because I knew how to back-track this time - somehow or other I started heading South again. I don't know what was pulling me in that direction.

But Peter protested that he wanted some photos so the next night I took the camera - and my head-torch - and I braved Endcliffe Park which smelled nice and sounded nice and has a big river running through it. I heard an owl call 3 times in it - but I can't say I ever really saw it. To my surprise Sheffield is very hilly and absolutely full of trees, and the air was very nice - presumably wofting across from the Peak District. Someone told me that Sheffield is one of the happiest places in the UK and he thought it was because of all the trees. I don't know how that's measured or if it's true but I'm just saying it here.

I honestly think it was quite brave of me running around a dark park on my own. Nothing untoward happened.

There she is.

Below is my 3rd run. I got lost again. Duh! But in a more measured way. I ran past the Botanics and it smelled great.

I have no idea what this means.

Ecclesall Road.

This is where I did my course. It's also a Masonic Hall and full of dark paintings of men.

On the final morning. I think the fly wanted to get in because my bananas were rotting in my food bag. Actually my room wasn't nice at all because by now it had 3 days running kit in it.

There will be more Sheffield in February. 

The Pentland Skyline 2019...

Hello. It's been a whole month since I last blogged. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking "you're not going to bore on about all your old Skylines are you?". That, dear reader, is exactly what I am going to do.

2007

Chris Upson's excellent site Scottish Hill Racing makes it easy to see all your old hill racing results and pore over them for hours. It only starts in 2005 though but luckily the Carnethy Website

also keeps the old scores on the doors.

So I ran my first Skyline in 2004 and just ducked in under 4 hrs. There was a race within a race going on because my long-time friend Jane Fletcher, now Davies, was also doing it, and was being coached round by Jim Davies of Borrowdale. Now that's obviously cheating. I was mostly a road-runner in those days and I hated Hare Hill so much that I devised a route so that I got off it as quickly as possible down onto the road that runs between Balerno and the  Howe and ran round on that to Black Hill, even though it was further. I had a bum bag the size of Wales (Oilskins packed neatly in it) and 2 big heavy plastic litre bottles brimming with lucozade. I was ahead of Jane for the longest time but on Black Hill, being wet behind the ears, I went straight up the fence line and then along instead of cutting across. I saw, behind me, Jane heading off on a better route with that flipping Jim beside her. I never caught her again. I got a stitch from all the Lucozade coming down Black Hill that was so bad I tried to make myself sick. What a state. I didn't really care about 4 hours at that point but was instead a bit gutted about being gubbed by Jane.

In 2005 I rallied and ran a much better 3.40 which has remained my best ever time.

The others are a bit of a blur. The nearest I ever got to 3.40 again was 3.43 in 2010 and I think that was likely because I'd done the 2 Breweries a couple of weeks before. I had disgraced myself at the Moray Marathon by stopping at 20 miles and hitch-hiking to the end. Look I've found a photo.

If you had to guess who was going to drop out, I don't think it would be hard.

I thought dropping out of a marathon would be fine but the taste of failure lingered and it made me try a bit harder for a while. 

In 2017 I went back to the Skyline after a 7 year rest. By chance more than anything I had never gone over 4 hours although just ducked under it twice. My dream result for the race by this time would be under 4 hours and it actually happened. It was a real surprise to me. I think the excitement of it led to me over-training over the winter and I ended up on the bench with sore IT bands well into 2018.

This year I knew there was no chance I was going under 4 hours and so I had to decide whether to not race or just let it go.

Now I'm not suggesting that anyone paid me to hang back this year but the whole scenario reminds me of Marcellus Wallace in Pulp Fiction.

"On the night of the fight you may feel a slight sting......that's pride, fucking witya"

Unlike Bruce Willis, I decided just to go with it. I felt more than a slight sting, but I don't think it was pride. Even my shoulders hurt today. Now why is that?

This year was Skyline no.7 and I think the thing that made me go was that other Porties were making the effort. Plus I like the training. Peter and I did what I think was a minimum of preparation by doing a few Pentland runs, extending it each time.

Catherine, newish Porty, made her debut onto the hill racing scene at the 2 Breweries this year. Now that's a horrible race - and the fact that she was coming back for more, making her 2nd ever hill race The Skyline filled me with respect. She was still smiling at the end and said she enjoyed it!

Has anyone seen Gio MacDonald?

Heel-striking Harry. This and last photo by Norman Brown.

Truth - I was already tired here. Top O' Turnhouse. Photo Sasha Chepelin.

I'm laughing. "Haha, I've run 4 miles and there's 13 to go and I'm shagged."

Yeah so yesterday - well the weather was quite nice. It was dull but it wasn't really windy. We had the usual debate about what to wear. I nearly wore a long-sleeved top through cowardice but I was glad I didn't. I was pretty much too hot all the time. I was glad of the cooling mist up Turnhouse.

I really tried not to over-cook it on the first few ascents. That should have been easy because there are a few bottle-necks early on and everyone was walking where I was, which was annoying. The path up the first bit is relatively gentle compared to what was to come, so why waste it? I tried to just take it easy but either I didn't or I just wasn't great yesterday. By the top of Turnhouse I felt pretty wasted. I kept trying to jog and then walk but Peter and I had been quite easily running all of Carnethy and Scald Law but it felt way too hard. I even felt a bit upset when I remembered about South Black Hill and having to go all that way round. I had a gel at Flotterstone but it didn't make any difference. I think gels have stopped working for me. I don't know what the chemistry of that would be but I felt the same in the marathon - they make 0 difference. At the top of SBH the marshal said "you've got 20 minutes until the cut off". I realised I wasn't that bothered and contemplated whether dropping out would be an option, but then I thought that I'd be hanging around, getting in the way with strangers  and I'd live to regret it. Reluctantly, after getting some juice and a water-bottle fill and having a couple of custard creams, 2hrs and 13 minutes into the race, I hit the Drove Road.

I think the custard creams helped. Something improved anyway. Mark Hartree and Lisa Gamble were near me and I was half-listening to their chat. Lisa was having a hard time as she's not been running much with a baby and all.  Mark was talking about his year in sport. They were going at a reasonable steady pace. Hare Hill was really clearly flagged which made it easier - no looking for good lines - its easier just to play the hand you're dealt. There was a full dead sheep laid out like one of Hannibal's tableaux (If you've watched that nonsense. We did. Peter's been making tableaux around the flat ever since. I think we need to watch him.) I wished I'd remembered I had a camera at that point.

I followed Mark Hartree off the hill without using my own wits. He seemed to take a very direct route vertically down. I used my hands and bottom, versatile like.

Going up Black Hill Lisa was saying she was feeling better, despite Black Hill being a monster. I was too. The path up there has never been better. Doubtless all the runners ahead of me had cleared the heather from the sides of the peaty trod so it was pretty much all runnable. Except I was tired so I didn't run it all. Coming down the other side of Black Hill was pretty clear too. I hate running through long heather or on bumpy stuff because my ankles twist easily - but there was good ground all the way. I caught up on a few folk who had left me behind earlier, which always feels good. Going up Bell's Hill, a girl with a Peak District kind of accent remarked that it was terrible. I agreed with her.

It definitely was. But it was Bell's Hill. It's meant to be terrible at Bell's Hill - that's the game. Terrible all the way back but you are nearly back.

Haha - I'm running a race and taking a selfie.

This chap was behind me a lot and to my fevered imagination he sounded like Edward Scissorhands.

Ah well, you know the rest, or if you don't, it's this. Every year they pop another hill between Bell's Hill and the finish. It went on and on forever. Maybe I took it easier because there was no chance I could go under 4 hrs and there was nothing else to chase. I wasn't aware of taking it easy though. I stormed over the line in 4 hrs 25 minutes, feeling pleased to stop and not at all bothered by the rain which was just starting to fall.

Haha - I'm finishing the race at last.

Haha - I don't have to run any more.

I haven't mentioned Sarah Ormerod who is a Porty but was running under a Carnethy vest. I met her at the WOL half last year and she's my Strava buddy, so oddly, even though I haven't seen her in a year, I knew her form and wasn't at all surprised she ran a good race.

Times were mostly slower than usual, except for the lead men who spoiled it for everyone. I dread to see what my Scottish Hill Racing percentage is going to be for this one!

So I think, in summary; come on, pull something out of the hat. Well this; I used to hate Hare Hill and now I think it's my favourite one. It's very green and mossy. Amen.