RACE 24 - GREEN BELTER HAMBLETON - 28 May

The sales pitch from the website - "From the guys behind the legendary Rat Race [this is an urban race in places like Cardiff, Nottingham, London, Edinburgh ....] comes the Green Belter – an Adventure on your doorstep offering a multi-sport mix of biking, running, a wee splash in our kayaks and our trademark mighty “Green Machine” obstacle course thrown in for good measure.

Hambleden is the quintessential English country Idyll. The Estate nestles on the banks of the River Thames just outside of charming Henley and our adventure makes use of the whole area, including rolling woodland countryside, superb bridleways and hidden trails, a bit of rough and tumble courtesy of Hambleden’s existing cross country horse jumps and a splash on the might Thames itself. Never before used for an event of this nature [except last year when I did it] and with special permissions in place, this location is a real gem."   As per usually, I've put a bit of background at the end of the update.


The race was a later start (12:30) than I'm used to so it meant I could prepare that morning and it's needed as they have a fair old list of mandatory kit including a mountain bike (unsurprisingly) but with a bell? Also a whistle, space blanket, first aid kit, mobile phone in waterproof bag 9good advice as it turned out!) compass .....  Anyway everything ready and off but of course being later in the day meant that the traffic wasn't as clear.  A fair amount of stress later managed to reach the venue with about 50 minutes to get settled and prepared but not enough time for the pre-race cuppa!  However the latter part of the journey was through the country idyll mentioned including the attractive town of Marlow and the fringes of the Chilterns which settled the nerves a bit. 


The information we were originally emailed differed slightly to that handed out at the event.  So the first run was 3km, the mountain biking was somewhere between 18-21 km, while the second run was between 7.5 - 11 km, and the final kayak stage involved a run of 2.5km plus 1km of actual paddling?  It was all a bit confusing but one thing was for sure - apart from the Thames which as a river is pretty flat (albeit with a current) the rest was a bit hilly with some cheeky obstacles thrown in for good measure. 
   

My feeling was that the latter information was probably more accurate so assume a 3km, 19km bike, 7.5km run followed by a round trip of 2.5km to get to the river for a 1km paddle.


Anyway to the start and the off like a bunch of scalded cats.  The pace across the fields was pretty fast but it was a case of keeping up rather than get caught behind slower runners in the single track sections.  Gentle uphill - then a killer of a gradient.  It hurt!  Through some rhododendrons in a depression requiring some contortions and branch climbing and the feeling that if that was the level of obstacles then it was going to be a doddle.  I was sure last year they had us going through trainer swallowing mud!   



Complacency rudely shattered by the first of the horse jumps.  They'd obviously been doing some work since last year!  Some of the braver took to them like horses leaping elegantly over.  Hearing the splashes the emanating from the other side I took them with a little more circumspect and not a little trepidation.  Yes - they put us through the water jump which was quite a scramble to get out of.  It was only six inches deep but enough to get a reasonable soaking.


Finally after a number of other log jumps and other obstacles - quite frankly I don't know why horses put up with it.  it was back to the bike to put on cycle shoes and shades.  Glad I spent the time putting on the cleated shoes as over the course I noticed a number of people slipping off their peddles because their trainers were wet.   As you can see from the profile there were more hills to be cycled up and then hare down again.  

Managed to overtake a few other riders - one or two were even on hybrids rather than MTB's so they were finding the going a bit hard (even saw one person on a cyclo-cross bike, though admittedly he was pulling out of the race and walking dejectedly back to the race HQ).  As we've had a fair amount of rain (yes it even rains in the south of England not just in Scotland) we had to negotiate a fair amount of mud and my achilles heel - wet tree roots.  However I managed, not quite sure how, not to fall off for  the first time while racing!  
Eventually made it to the roads where the marshal was carefully taking our numbers to make sure that everyone was accounted for.  Got cycling with a fellow competitor as we were being held up by a car!  To be fair they were being held up by a road cyclist (not one of the racers) who was just too pig-headed to pull to one side and let the car pass.  I'll say one thing for the driver - she was very patient.  We heard a whirring sound coming up behind us and it was another competitor on his MTB and he wasn't going to let anything like a car get in his way!  Not sure how he managed to squeeze through between the car and the high hedges but he did - just.  The two of us left behind just looked at each other and shook heads/ rolled eyes and said words to the effect of "what a bl**dy fool!"    Finally the car was able to overtake - well actually all the cyclist went one way at a junction and the car went the other.  Tried to engage the cyclist -one of those in coordinating bike colour, cycle gear, shades .... in some banter. But she was having none of it, obviously not liking mountain bikers especially those that were overtaking her uphill.

Then it was back onto to the estate and they made us cycle diagonally through the water jump - which was lucky as you can see the size of the drop-off. When I say amde, we did have the option of carrying it through but the cheering and egging on of the marshals was just too much to contemplate it.  Also they guy I'd been cycling with made it across OK - see how cunningly I let him draw ahead just in case?  I may be smiling (I saw the cameraman) but my feet had only just dried out! Then a long drag uphill where I finally managed to overtake and then a short (ish) ridiculously steep bit which I'm afraid I just had to walk up.   Then back through the woods over many more tree roots - unsurprisingly and a quick blast down the hill (first photo) back to transition.  Off with the cycle shoes liberally covered with tendrils of pond weed from the water jump, on with wet trainers and back out onto the run.  


I managed most of the hills but two I just had to walk. However I could hear a couple behind me (one of the teams racing) so that spurred me on.  According to the information it was a total of about 300m ascent - it felt more!  Then it was back to the water jump for the third soaking of the day.  As I was exiting I heard an almighty splash and a cheer from the onlookers.  Someone had been too ambitious and had gone headlong.  Sure enough after a few more horse jumps I heard a squelchy noise up behind me and a rather bedraggled bloke hove into view.  When asked he shamefacedly admitted he'd tried to do a spectacular entry for it to go spectacularly wrong. 


One thing the organisers had done this year was to introduce "dibbers" as timing chips.  One of the reasons for this is that to get to the Thames for the kayak stage, we had to cross a very busy and fast road.  They allowed us to 'dib-out' - effectively stopping the clock, have a bit of a rest and take our time crossing, and then 'dib-in' restarting the clock.  Really sensible and safe idea.  Then a run across a few fields, which was probably some of the roughest terrain as it had been churned up by cows; across some very narrow plank bridges; quick congratulations to the runners returning having already done the kayak stage; distracted by a flock of geese flying in 'v'-formation up the river no more then 3 foot above the water -  to the kayak embarkation point.  

Then a discussion with the man in charge, convinced that the buoyancy jacket would clash with my Prostate Cancer top, while also failing to persuade him to lift me into the kayak to save me getting my feet wet (again!)  Once in off down the Thames with the wind and current behind me - I mean how difficult could this be?  Passed a boat - odd looking thing - long and thin with single seats along its' length and hoops like those wagons in westerns have.  There were five people having a picnic lunch all seated the same way one behind another and being single seats - making conversation difficult I imagine.  What was even more amusing was that on the way back, as it had started to drizzle, they'd covered  the hoops with  a tarpaulin so were in some dark narrow tunnel.


Made the turn around point and headed back up stream into the wind.  This is when the arms really did begin to burn - though the drizzle did add a bit of a distraction getting all over wet rather than just the feet.   Was also passed by the couple who were behind me on the run but they have two in a boat - that's my excuse anyway.  However this stretch of river is particularly beautiful as you can see so there were compensations.

Then a return over the fields, passing a lady with a spaniel who was covering almost as much ground as we were supporting her other half - back across the road and to the 'Green Machine' (which is actually red, white and blue in colour and requires three small generators to keep it inflated).  Recommended to take trainers and glasses off - found I'd managed to hole yet another pair of socks - off through the obstacles and to the finish.


Celebrated with a bacon and egg roll and finally a cup of tea.  Its the first time I've had to remove pond weed from the bike while putting it away in the car.  Made for a somewhat fragrant journey home, what with the wet shoes (2 pairs), bike and me!   Doing another of these races in July down in Kent - again one I've done before, and which from memory is wetter still.  Oh well, something to look forward to!


RESULT: 14th out of 78 (solo category) in a time of 2:33:38





History 

The Roman villa at nearby Yewden produced a number of unusual discoveries, including a very high number of iron styli as well as lots of corn drying kilns, but most startling, a very high number of infant burials.  The latter may have been because the villa might have been a brothel (see  http://www.buckscc.gov.uk/bcc/archaeology/yewdon.page )


The village name is Anglo Saxon in origin, and means 'crooked or undulating valley'. It was recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086 as Hanbledene, though previously 1015 it was known as Hamelan dene. St Thomas Cantilupe, the Lord Chancellor and Bishop of Hereford, was born in Hambleden in 1218. In 1315 a Royal charter was granted to hold a market in the village, and a fair on St Bartholomew's Day (August 24) every year. The charter was reconfirmed in 1321, though appears to have not lasted much longer than this.


The brick and flint cottages in the centre of the village conform to a similar design and have dormer windows topped with red tiles. St Mary's church dates from the 14th century and includes a conspicuous memorial to Cope D'Oyley (who died in 1633) and his family. The tower contains eight bells and the ceiling is quite intricately decorated in parts.The post office in the village serves also the local shop and cafe.
 
The Jacobean style manor house was built in 1603 of flint and stone. Charles I stayed there overnight in 1646 while fleeing from Oxford. Another notable building is the Old Rectory built in 1794.


Hambleden was the home village of William Henry Smith, founder (in 1821) of the book chain W H Smith, he died in 1891 and is buried in the new cemetery. Lord Cardigan, famous for his role in leading the ill-fated Charge of the Light Brigade, was born in the Manor House. The sea chest that he took to the Crimea can be seen in the church. Phil Vickery, Rugby Union London Wasps player and England 2003 World Cup Winner, lives in Hambleden.

The attractive village has often been used as a film location, such as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Dance with a Stranger and the opening scenes of the recent remake of The Avengers starring Ralph Fiennes and also some scenes of 101 Dalmatians. 


Hambleden was also used in the HBO mini-series Band of Brothers to depict Easy Company's training in England. Also, the Tim Burton film Sleepy Hollow, starring Johnny Depp and Christina Ricci. The 2010 film Nanny McPhee Returns, also used parts of the village in some of their scenes .

One mile to the south at Mill End are Hambleden Mill and Hambleden Lock on the River Thames, which feature in the novel Three Men In A Boat.

RACE 23 - GE STRATHCLYDE TRIATHLON - 22nd May

This week it was up to Scotland for a few days r + r and the small matter of a triathlon.  This triathlon is part of the British championship series - so all the top British athletes take part (which by no means of the imagination includes me).  The series (which also includes Blenheim, Windsor and London - all of which I'm doing) are televised by Channel 4 (broadcasting on Channel 4 on 5th June at 7:30am so set the videos or whatever technology you have or catch it on Channel 4OD).  I spotted myself (briefly) in a previous year in Windsor, jogging down the main street seemingly without care in the world looking at the architecture.

Anyway back to the Strathclyde which although is 'a bit' further than I normally travel does have the bonus of being able to see Jeremy + Kath (brother + wife) and a number of friends which makes the whole endeavour more of a holiday with an incidental bit of sport to undertake.

Don't worry I won't bore you with regaling you with holiday stories and photos and as the technology seems to be playing up they're all at the end anyway.  Friday was spent "training" which was basically some time in the gym then climb Ben Lomond.  Weather was sunshine and heavy frequent showers plus the obligatory very high winds. An aside - the whole landscape was impressively lush - really emerald green rolling fields on the drive up.  The bluebells were out in massive drifts under the newly emerging bracken stems. Managed to make it to the top - only stopping to either put waterproofs on or take them off. Once at the top about to tuck into the salad I'd bought while huddling in what passed for the lea - was caught in a snow storm. Kind of put me off the salad so I had my coffee instead trying to warm my numb hands because I hadn't thought to pack gloves because it was the nearly the end of May!

It was pretty much a white out but didn't settle and once it had stopped sufficiently I begun to make my way back down.  Looking north from Ben Lomand I was surprised to see all the higher peaks and ridges white with snow.


Later in the evening met up with Carol to revisit Cafe Gadolfi - unchanged (in a good way) since I used to live up here in the 80's.  Great food - and stunning hand carved furniture (http://www.cafegandolfi.com/ ).  Then onto to the Babbity Bowser (another place that hasn't changed a jot and again in a good way! http://www.babbitybowster.com/ ).  Musicians began to drift in and held an impromptu jamming sessions of traditional music.  Interestingly a youngish guy came in with a floor standing harp.  Played once and for the rest of the evening was surrounded by girls. Note to self - a  harp is a babe magnet.

Well enough of that - thanks to bro for an excellent selection of curries for my pre-race carbo-loading, though I'm not sure that curry is in any training manual.

Early (ish) sunday morning start - too early to have breakfast at the hotel anyway.  To be honest I didn't feel like any apart from a cup of tea as I was actually feeling nervous. Off across Erskine Bridge where I realised that the wind hadn't died down much, through some heavy rain, so no change there either.

Got to the site to any absence of signs directing you where to go. However followed some other lost souls and found the route in was actually the cycle course.  There were no flat bits it was either up hill or down but then I guess what do you expect in Scotland - hills, weather ..... Anyway it didn't do the nerves any good!  Parked up, registered and got ready but no sign of where to get my traditional pre-race cup of tea (found it later).  However wasn't really time as we were all moved out of transition pretty sharpish.  The officials were  most officious - the racking of the bikes had to be just so, the kit laid out in certain place, all other kit and bags had to be stored outside.  Although they were officious it was in a professional way - which added to the nerves as I wondered what I'd let my self in for.

Officially described on their website as "set in the 2014 Commonwealth Games venue, the GE Strathclyde Park Triathlon is an event not to be missed. With a vast 200 acre loch, undulating terrain through woodlands and forests this makes an ideal site for the first event in the British Triathlon Super Series of 2011. With the elite race enjoying its third year at Strathclyde Park, this event now warmly welcomes a mass participation event for all those who’ve been inspired to have at go at one of the world’s fastest growing sports.

The swim will take place in Strathclyde Park Loch before you head out on your bikes on the closed roads through the park. No triathlon would be complete without a hill or two so there are a few in the cycle stage just for good measure. [I'll say!] Once you’re back to transition it’s out onto the run where you’ll take to the woodlands for undulating and enjoyable [define enjoyable in this context?] last stage of the race."

Soon found out as they sent the waves off every 10 mins. The water was freezing!  They said it was 13 degrees but even the commentator had his doubts.  We got in 5 mins before our start so my feet were numb hanging onto the pontoon.  Talking amounst the competitors consisted mostly of gallows humour.  The feet got so numb that they didn't warm up until second cycle lap.

The horn sounded and we were off swimming in the rain. The only other time I've swum outdoors in the rain is in Australia in an outdoor heated swimming pool - which needless to say was a somewhat different experience. The nerves had obviously had an effect as I went straight into "turtle" breaststroke mode without even thinking about it.

The swim otherwise went fine - we had a great view of the cyclists going up the first hill (I'm sure I'm not meant to notice such things while racing but it does take the mind off all those swimmers in front). There was another swimmer breast stroking and one with a languid front crawl (whether from exhaustion or just stylish I don't know). Found out that I was in the bottom ten swimmers - oh well something to improve on! 

One advantage of numb feet is I didn't feel the gravel and rough surface underfoot in the run to the transition.  Onto bike to find unsurprisingly that as we'd had a shower while out swimming, all my stuff was soaking including of course the towel placed in such a way to allow you to partially dry feet before putting on the cycle shoes (I'm not one of those who fix the shoes to the bike and the put my feet in them whilst cycling - requires far too much co-ordination for me). Then off up the first hill. And the second, then down then up the third. Down, around a mini roundabout and then repeat in reverse - four times!  Add the wind plus another shower made for 'interesting' conditions.  Also as it's a race bike there are no mudguards so I got pretty wet though I suppose that's pretty academic as I'd started out wet after the swim, had put on wet kit and then proceeded to get/remain wet. However was pleased at how the cycle went ie. overtook loads and was overtaken by only two others. The route was a little rough being that large aggregate asphalt with the occasional rumble strip. However what really was "buttock clenching" was the fast down hills whilst on aero-bars as you've no access to brakes and steering is a little less precise.  First lap may have been a bit tentative but seeing how others were doing it was a case of gritting teeth and haring (or is it hooning north of the boarder) down.  Pretty exhilarating and scary! Worst experience was when I nearly crashed into the camera motor bike - they were far too concerned in photographing a rather attractive female competitor to notice me closing fast with no gap to get through - a rather panicky shout was required and even then I had to haul on the brakes (hopefully that doesn't make it onto channel 4).

Then a quick (for me) transition and on to the run. The course was basically past the finish and elite transition (put there so the spectators get to see more of them) and off round the loch shore.  Windy and painful - especially as part way round you had to run up and over a steep little knoll.  The muscles really didn't like that! I  felt that I'd must be dawdling especially as I was overtaken by a couple of runners at some pace. Realising they were young meant that they had caught up and overtaken me although they'd started in the wave 10 mins after me.  It was just a question of gritting teeth and keeping going - with a thumbs up and a gritted "cheers" to all the marshalls that gave encouragement.  How they managed to remain so cheerful in the wind and driving rain I don't know but it was certainly appreciated.

Back up and over the knoll actually managing to overtake some other runners and with the finish line in sight on the opposite shore it was time to dig deep and speed up.  Convinced I'd done a poor run - it really felt like a snail's pace at some points, I was surprised to find that when the results were posted I'd actually posted a respectable time - not a million miles off my personal best.

Then it was off to the centre to have a shower - its a great way to recover. Then along to cafe to have finally a cuppa and watched the presentations from the veranda over looking the loch and finishing line/ elite transition area.

While taking my kit back to the car found where I could get my recovery bap - so while the elite women were racing I was eating a chicken burger and chips.  A couple of differences in their race - apart from the speed, is that they are allowed to dive in at the swim; each lap of the bike and run goes through the transition area to allow the crowds to cheer them on; hoards of photographers were on hand and their progress was beamed onto a large screen so the spectators could follow progress.  They were led around the course by a marshal on a Honda Gold-wing who's sound system - yes they have them on motorbikes, was belting out bagpipe music.  So these elite athletes were accompanied by the same sunshine and showers that we mere mortals suffered and by the sound of someone torturing cats!  It's certainly not an easy way to earn a living!


RESULT: 52nd out of 111 in a time of 1:22:25

A little bit of additional information regarding the venue adapted courtesy of Wikipedia.  Strathclyde Country Park covers some 4 km², centred on the artificial Strathclyde Loch. It is located next to the River Clyde between Hamilton and Motherwell. Strathclyde Park forms what used to be known as the Low parks of the now demolished Hamilton Palace and still includes buildings associated with the palace. When the Loch was created in the early 1970's it involved the flooding of the old mining village of Bothwellhaugh. The park offers many amenities and attractions such as coarse angling, woodland walks, watersports, and a camping and caravaning site. One of Scotland's theme parks is located in the park. Although the focus of the park is on recreation, a variety of habitats are present, including wetlands and native woodland.

The west side of the park is bounded by the River Clyde, which was diverted when the loch was built in 1975. The original course can be seen between the east loch shore and the island. Across the Clyde is the M74 motorway, which creates a significant level of noise. The east side of the park is quieter, with woodland and paths leading up the slopes to Motherwell.


The remains of Bothwellhaugh Roman Fort and a Roman bath house can be seen in the park, where the South Calder Water flows into the loch. There is an arched Roman bridge across the South Calder nearby. The site of the Battle of Bothwell Bridge (1679) is to the north west of the park.

RACE 22 - ETON SUPERSPRINT - 15 May

This is my forth  visit to Dorney Lake (Races 5, 6 and 9).  However this time the race is based at the other end (eastern) where all the facilities are.  If you want to refresh your memory to how the place came about, its history and what not, rather than bore you, have a look at the Race 9 update as it was about this I began to get into this blogging malarkey and turned on the 'verbosity tap'.  The view from the other end looks like this - so unsurprisingly, it looks like a long straight lake with those two yellow buoys marking our swimming course.  The cycle course this time is four laps of the lake making a grand total of 20.4 km.  The 5km run is up the path on the right hand side, around some cones and back down the same path - which means you can see exactly how fast other runners are gaining on you!

The race, as to be expected being organised by one of the largest companies (and most expensive) was well done with all the information sent out well in advance so you knew exactly what you were letting yourself in for.  Also, it had been arranged at a very civilised time as event took over the whole facility so there were no rowers allowed, no other cyclists, runners etc.  Interestingly, alongside the racing they had also organised training courses so there were people dipping their toes into open water swimming for the first time and cycle and run technique training.  It is also an event that is so popular that they run it twice, once on the Saturday and again on Sunday. 

So got up at a reasonable time, had a leisurely breakfast, taped the blisters from yesterday, packed the car, got a paper and still managed to get to Dorney Lake two hours before my 12:40 start.  Plenty of time to have a second breakfast (bacon baguette and brown sauce was just too tempting) and a cup of tea, while reading about Manchester's domination in the football.   Also while watching the earlier waves (determined by age and sex - mine was male 50+) noticed the amount of new works that had been carried out pre-Olympic and the very pretty yellow irises surrounding the lake. 

As you can see from the photos it was another reasonably sunny day (I have been SO lucky with the weather in all my races - although jumping ahead - there were a few spots of rain on the cycle).  However it was incredibly windy, so much so that the exit gantry from the swim blew over and one of the women's waves had to virtually crawl under it until they managed to re-inflate it.  


The windy conditions were recognised by the race report on the event website: "Following on from Saturday’s action at Dorney Lake, the Eton SuperSprint Sunday featured more great racing, fierce competition and excellent performances right across the board. The strong wind turned a traditionally fast course into a leg sapping challenge and gave the swim leg an added dimension with plenty of chop evident on the water. [I'll say, the waves were up to 12" and some swimmers had problems while I reverted to breast stroke straight away. Furthermore only one person managed a sub-30min cycle and needless to say there were no aero-disc wheels in evidence].

The day actually started early with a somewhat younger age group than usual due to the first round in the Human Race Scootathlon Series – a scoot, bike, run event designed to introduce four to eight year-olds to the world of multisport [get them young I say!] Lining up their scooters at 9.30am were over 100 youngsters who tackled the three-loop course with determination, effort and lots of smiles!"

Getting (wet) suited up, exchanging banter with the others in the "codgers category" of 50+ , admiring some of the kit on show, yet commiserating on how tight the wetsuits were (as this is often the first race of the triathlon season in open water for many) and 'surely my chest hasn't slipped that much to around my waist?'  There was also a distinct lack of enthusiasm in actually getting into the water to the increasing exasperation of the starter.  It was cold though and as already mentioned with the wind blowing down the 2.2 km length pretty choppy.  I must admit I wonder how the rowers manage as their boats seem very close to the water - though on reflection I suppose as long as it isn't a cross wind it would be all right?  Just to confirm, I wasn't thinking this at the time as a was bobbing away like an oversized rubber duck - more should I even attempt freestyle or go straight into 'turtle' mode. 

Once off managed to settle into a rhythm to the first buoy.  Going across between the two buoys I'd remembered to aim slightly up wind and allow the wind/wave combination to do its work.  Some swimmers didn't and ended up going a bit off course and then having to dogleg to get around the buoy.  With the wind and waves it was much easier and almost relaxing which gave me an opportunity to have a look at the different types of pond weed, follow the mooring line of the lane buoys, and generally enjoy myself.


Once out, dash to the bike and this time got out of the wetsuit with minimum of fuss.  Onto bike and round the back of the complex into the full force of the wind.  This is certainly where aero-bars are an advantage and managed to overtake quite a few.  Fixed my eye on a fellow cyclist also in the tuck position and gave chase.  Finally caught him at the far end to find that with the wind he had slightly higher gear ratios (53:11 -  I subsequently found out) and  he managed to pull away with the wind down the 2.2km straight.  It was an absolute joy go that fast and during the whole four laps neither of us were overtaken - pure exhilaration.  Again began to reel him in going into the wind and again got alongside only for him to find an extra spurt and pull ahead just before gaining 100m or so with the wind.  


It is great fun when there is a ding-dong battle like this - just the two of us competing to the exclusion of everyone else.  He kept on looking over his shoulder to see where I was while I refused to totally loose touch with him.  I found out after that he was so adamant that he would stay ahead that he refused to take a drink because it would mean he'd have to get out of the tuck position as his bottles were frame mounted.  My bottle - a wonderfully aerodynamically shaped thing sits between my tri-bars with a long straw which allows drinking while in the tuck position.  Boys and their toys!   

As transition was at the windward end of the straight, he entered about 200m in front.  Both of us had a reasonable change so it was onto the run.  Running into the wind was a bit of a nightmare - it was like running uphill and having put so much into the cycle it was really hard work.  At 1.25km we went around some cones and headed back - exchanging grins as we passed each other.  With the wind the run was almost easy, in fact you weren't even aware that there was a wind just that the running was (relatively) easy.  Then it was back into the wind where I was lucky enough to slipstream a big 'fella' who'd just got off the bike and was setting a cracking pace!  He fade towards the end of the into the wind section but I'd got to with 50m of my nemesis.  Aware of this at the turn he picked up the pace and the race was on!  It would have been more impressive if two others from our wave hadn't cruised past at this point chatting to each other!  

We finally crossed the finish within 2m of each other - I'd just hadn't got the legs. However on checking our times we'd both been given the same - so both were 126th.  The only reason I'm above in the lists is alphabetical as Clive Newnham come after Huggett - yay! We had a long chat about kit, races ..... etc. that' one of the great things about triathlons is that they are so friendly.  Also you get all types competing, swimmers, cyclists and runners - so its likely that everyone is good at one part or other.      

Back home the decision to tape up the blisters to stop the water getting in proved to be a little problematic - put it this way it's one way to loose a fair amount of skin!  Oh well, I'd take the precaution of having "liquid painkillers" of the amber variety in the fridge - allowing me to rehydrate and replace lost carbs - all at the same time!  


One other problem I'm going to have to address with this 50 @ 50 malarkey - is what to do with all the event t-shirts?  I got another two this weekend!  Its not really something you can give to the charity shops with "beast in the east" splurged across it and there are just so many you actually need as rags to clean the bike etc.  Oh well, the pile on the bedroom floor will just get bigger until I get some inspiration/advice.




Result: 126th (tied with two others) out of 668 in a time of 1:10:36

RACE 21 - GRIM II - BEAST IN THE EAST - 14 May

This race is one of the "Grim" series of races. My blog/facebook picture is me last year in the Grim Duathlon while I undertook  the Grim "original" as my third race (see Race 3).  Its quite noticeable  at how verbose the blogs have become - boy don't I waffle!   

Autumn view from Grim website

From their website The Beast in the East  is described as "a course truly worthy of the name, GRIM!   Plough through the mud [there wasn't any as it been too dry], sand and hills of the counties best motocross circuit. This course is extremely tough and will blow you away!  The course is a mixture of trails, grassland and of course, the motocross circuit. The downhills are as tough as the uphill so get some hill training in and we'll see you on the start line! We didn't think anyone would break the hour for this 10k but many brave souls did [including I'm pleased to say me last year!] 

As per usual a little bit of history about the site but this time rather than from a website about history, its from the Sidcup Motorcycle Club website. http://www.sidcupmotorcycleclub.co.uk/index.html

Aerial - from SMC website

"The course at Swanley, Kent known as Canada Heights, acquired its name during the 1914-18 War when a large contingent of Canadian troops were camped there on the high ground. It has, however been in regular use for off-road motorcycle sports for many years, and by the Sidcup and District Motorcycle Club since 1948. Over the years, the circuit has hosted many events, from Club level to International status. It drew large crowds and national television coverage with the BBC "Grandstand Trophy" events during the 1960s.

View from SMC website

Despite its popularity and regular use by riders and spectators alike, it still remained just a rough piece of land for motorcycling until 1985, when the Sidcup Club bought it with the aid of a Sports Council grant and sponsorship from companies and individuals. Once purchased, the Club members set about transforming the whole area. Access roads were laid to improve entry for spectators; the tangled undergrowth was cleared to provide better parking and viewing. Then the exciting new track was created. During the recent years, the land has been dramatically improved, but never at the expense of the beautiful countryside and wildlife. Further land at the rear of the site was recently purchased and in 2010 a storage barn was built to accommodate the ground maintenance equipment. The land has been properly managed, with many new trees planted as the Club continues to develop the "South’s Most Spectacular Circuit".  


For those interested in motorsport you can watch a video of a lap of last year's British Cross Country Championship at  http://blip.tv/file/3977465  And an aside, the reason I'm using pictures from the websites is that although I took my camera with me (this time) I totally forgot to use it until I was leaving the car park.  I suppose forgetfulness is yet another sign of old age!


As the race venue was just the other side of the M25 (you could hear the continuous roar of the traffic at the site - which I guess makes it a perfect place for motorsport) and not far from Brands Hatch (now there's a place I haven't a) been to or b) done an event at) it meant it wasn't an early start.  Picked up Kevin Murphy (if I'd remembered to actually use my camera their could have been a picture) at about 8:30.  Being met at the front door first thing Saturday morning by a man in tights was a bit disconcerting but that aside, it was good to have some company for a change.     It was also amusing seeing how quickly he could get in and out of a newsagents to get some tissues as you don't want to hang around Sarff London in tights (OK so they were 2XU running tights but even though...) 


Out on the A20 where having a co-driver proved it's worth as we could by-pass the bottlenecks via a route I'd never done before therefore saving time and stress.  Promptly missed the turn-off though so all the time we'd saved ....  Never mind, I got to pass Brands Hatch so at least I know where it is.


Got to the site, parked up, registered, dropped off the car keys and met up with Pete Mackintosh who was also doing the race.  Found some trees to hide behind as the queues for the 'facilities' were massive - so much so they delayed the start by 15mins.  As I think I've mentioned before, I really don't understand the mentality of people, especially those running in groups, who push their way near the front with no intention of racing hard.  Needless to say on the off, there was one such group who felt the downhill track we were on was too slippery to run down so started walking within 100m .....  I mean honestly!  


The first slope up separated the men from the boys and the women from the girls!  We'd driven up it to get to the car parking field in second gear so that gives some indication of how step it was.  At the top was the 1km marker.  Then off around the undulating field - long inclines up and then down, up then down - the absence of flat was noticeable.  The final climb up through the woods brought us to the 2km marker and the top of the motocross course.  The surface was predominantly loose underfoot, but due to lack of recent rain it wasn't muddy and therefore kicked up a fair amount of dust (not quite as much as the link to the video clip shows).  The slopes here are very steep with drop-offs of probably 45 degrees and more.  As shown in the aerial, its quite a tortuous track so you go down, round a corner and back up, round a corner and back down ..... seemingly ad infinitum.  


However after 1.8km we finished and it was off into the countryside.  Firstly a field running alongside the M25, then up through woods on a single track path so there was no slacking otherwise people get frustrated at being held up; through more undulating fields - up - down, up - down + absence of flat for about 4.4km, eventually making back to the field we'd originally been around seemingly an age ago but this time in the opposite direction back to - you've guessed it - the motocross track to do another 1.8km lap. This time after the previous exertions I probably took it a little slower? 


The cheering crowds and the effervescent race commentator kept things moving - I even got a name check!  It was hard work though and I was a sweaty (well it had been rather sunny for most of the race) mess as I finally came off the course onto the finishing straight only to be overtaken by three people sprinting past who still seemed to have some energy left after all that! 

Making my way up the hill to see how Pete and Kevin were doing, I got to the top just in time to hear the race commentator calling out "and here is no. 8, Mr. Kevin Murphy looking very dapper".  And sure enough there he was in shades, black top and the matching two tone tights with a big grin on his face, with hardly any evidence of sweat running up one of the steepest parts of the course!  Not only that, coming into the finishing straight there was still enough energy to sprint and if that wasn't enough having finished he then proceeded to jog up hill with a big grin on his face declaring "that was fun!"  


Pete had also finished so we made our way (further) up hill to the car - me hobbling, the others ridiculously 'chipper'.  I'd obviously had not cleaned my off-road trainers well enough after the Gauntlet (race 14) as the selection of blisters were impressive.  

It was great fun running with others so thanks to Pete and Kevin for the company.  It also meant I didn't have to nap on the way home - kept awake and alert by the 'sparkling conversation' .......


Result: 73rd out of 567 in a time of 51:15 

RACE 20 - MINI-MARSHMAN - 8th May

Firstly a BIG thank-you to Dan and Laura for the "almost surprise" 50th party and Bec for the cup cakes!  And yes (unfortunately) that is the least shocking photo I can find.  I don't think I'll be replacing my blog/ facebook default photo any time soon with this one and I certainly won't be competing in this outfit either.  Thank you to everyone who turned up - some coming from as far away as Lewes, though I expect it was in part to see what outfit Dan would find for me.  There were quite a few "sights" - lycra, neoprene, short shorts, goggles - all involved and doubtless some more photos will surface from time to time.  I certainly had a great time - hope everyone else did.


Well apart from the party, the other and lesser milestone this week is that I'm out of my teens!  I've managed to reach race number 20 reasonably intact.  Also it happens to be the first triathlon of the season so after four runs, it's a welcomed return to multi-sports.  One of the reasons or criteria for choosing particular races is that they are in beautiful places, historic areas, or just fascinating places to visit.  I had worked to the west on Welland Marsh near Rye, 15 or so years ago on another road project which like the Worthing one, never got built.  This race is no different being based in Lydd on the Romney Marshes in Dungeness.  This area is steeped in myths and tales of smugglers. The coastline itself has changed dramatical (http://www.villagenet.co.uk/history/0000-romneymarsh.html) as one of Europe's largest areas of shingle has been built up over the centuries. 


The economy and landscape of Romney Marsh was dominated by sheep as improved methods of pasture management and husbandry meant the marsh could sustain a stock density greater than anywhere else in the world. The specific Romney Marsh breed of sheep became one of the most successful and important breeds. Their main characteristic is an ability to feed in wet situations; they are considered to be more resistant to foot rot and internal parasites than any other breed. Romney sheep have been exported globally, in particular to Australia, to where they were first exported in 1872.  A lot more of the history can be found on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romney_Marsh 


Lydd itself is interesting being one of the larger towns on the Romney Marsh, and the most southerly town in Kent. Actually located on Denge Marsh, Lydd was one of the first sandy islands to form as the bay evolved into what is now called the Romney Marsh. The name Hlyda, which derives from the Latin word for "shore", was found in a Saxon charter dating from the 8th century. Lydd is also birth place to Lyddite (picric acid), an explosive used to fire shells during South African War and the Great War. It was first tested at the military camp in Lydd in 1888.  

One of the more interesting stories of Lydd is that of a connection to Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, with speculation that Lydd was the final home to Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna who, it is speculated, survived the assassinations by Bolsheviks in 1918.  According to local rumour the wife of Owen Frederick Morton Tudor - an officer of 3rd Battalion of the King's Own Hussars based in Lydd - was in fact the Grand Duchess and whose final resting place is in All Saints cemetery.  The church by-the-way is the longest and tallest in Kent - resulting in Lydd often being referred to as the "cathedral town of Kent"  
( http://www.andrewleaning.com/cms/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=53:lyddhistory&catid=51:villages&Itemid=66 )

Finally (you'll be relieved to know) the Denge complex caught my eye.  These are three concrete acoustic mirrors each consisting of a single hemispherical reflector.

• The 200 foot mirror is a near vertical, curved wall, 200 feet (60m) long. It is one of only two similar acoustic mirrors in the world, the other being in Malta.
• The 30 foot mirror is a circular dish, similar to a deeply curved satellite dish, 9 m (30 ft) across, supported on concrete buttresses. This mirror still retains the metal microphone pole at its centre.
• The 20 foot mirror is similar to the 30 foot mirror, with a smaller, shallower dish 6 m (20 ft) across. 

Acoustic mirrors did work, and could effectively be used to detect slow moving enemy aircraft before they came into sight. They worked by concentrating sound waves towards a central point, where a microphone would have been located. However, their use was limited as aircraft became faster. Operators also found it difficult to distinguish between aircraft and seagoing vessels. In any case, they quickly became obsolete due to the invention of radar in 1932. The experiment was abandoned, and the mirrors left to decay. The gravel extraction works caused some undermining of at least one of the structures

.

You know how I've been whinging a bit about the early starts?  Well for this race I got up at 3am as registration closed before seven.  I had the foresight to load the car and put out my gear the night before - but not the foresight to actually book somewhere to stay down there.  So following an early night, set off in the dark through the streets of South London to get to the M20.  There were a lot of people still around and  a bit more traffic than I was expecting - much of it a driving a little "randomly".  So I drove somewhat gingerly out of London to find the motorway virtually traffic free.  


I'm beginning to develop a theory as to the early starts - so lycra-clad hoards don't scare locals as they get their Sunday papers or walk the dogs.  It is also fair to say that the roads are less busy on a Sunday morning so that cyclists and runners who are "in the zone" and possibly a little less careful about what is going on around them, are less likely to have problems.


Now an apology.  I had virtually finished recounting the tails of this race - just needing to wait for the results - when the blogger site became 'read-only'.  Its only now that its back up and running and of course virtually all the draft was lost.  Oh well, I hope I can remember what happened especially with the memory going at my age!

Once off the motorway and onto the A roads, I followed signs to what was variously called Lydd, Ashford or even London Ashford International Airport - which is a misnomer if ever there was one.  To reach Lydd you drive across the marshes and this particular morning the mist clung to the ground with just church spires peaking above.  You begin to get the sense of where all the stories of smugglers come from.  

Reaching the race HQ - a farm field, I found I wasn't the first one there this time.  It was full of tents and some pretty impressive motor homes.  Dawn was breaking and getting out of the car I was almost deafened  by the bird song. Peering through the murk, you could see the nuclear power station looming in the distance.  Walking to the race HQ to register I had two initial thoughts.  Firstly open-toed sandals may not have been the most appropriate foot wear in a recently grazed field - though it had been horses so it wasn't too 'fragrant'.  Secondly there was some serious kit on show.  The latter unsurprisingly I suppose as the main race - The Marshman - was an epic 1900m swim; 96km bike; 21km (half marathon) run.  It was also the first Half-Ironman length of race of the season so people were using it as training for Ironman (twice the distance believe it or not?)  Fortunately the 'Mini' was only 700m, 20km and 6km - normally termed a sprint triathlon.


Availed  myself of a) a cup of tea and b) the facilities - which were impressive!  Faux walnut wood panelling, framed b/w pictures of film stars, proper posh toiletries - all a bit of a pleasant surprise compared with the normal portaloos.


The main race started at 7:00, with another wave at 7:10, final at 7:20.  Looking down the you suddenly realise how far a 1.9km swim actually is!  Some of the top swimmers were fair motoring too.  Our first wave started at 8:00 when most (but not all) the other swimmers had finished.  My wave called the 'Dolphin' wave (I think they were being ironic as they had split the waves up on estimated swimming times) went at 8:05.  Started pretty well free-styling but found I had to revert to my default breast stroke after about 100m as although I've been practising (a bit) this winter, pool swimming is very different to open water swimming as you can see the bottom, can kick off at either end, not wear a wet suit, its relatively calm and you don't have people trying to swim over you!  So I ended up "turtle-ing" along near the back keeping pace with a lady doing the front crawl (I came 91st out of 99 in the swim).

Finishing the swim I encountered my next problem.  Do you think I could get the blasted wetsuit off especially over the timing chip on my ankle?  I hadn't thought to lube up before hand so it was a real struggle.  Finally I was onto the bike and fair flying through Lydd - though things like roundabouts and junctions did have a tendency to slow you down a bit.  Onto the open road which with the wind behind me meant I could push top gear (53:12 ratio for those of you interested and here's a bit of techie stuff - I've 'blinged' my bike with oval-shaped chainrings called Q-Rings. These do not eliminate the dead-spot but help to reduce its negative effects,moving the legs easier through the dead spot imitating a smaller circular chainring, and enabling the legs to remain in the power stroke for a longer period of time when compared to round chainrings. Q-Rings change the equivalent tooth size by decreasing it before the dead-spots and increasing it when the rider is in the power mode (when more power is available at the pedal down stroke).  For instance, a 53 teeth Q-Ring (the one I have), around the upper dead-spot is equivalent to a 51 teeth, but as the pedal goes down and more strength is applied (just passed the maximum power moment), the equivalent chainring tooth size reaches 56 teeth.  By now as you can't contain your excitement I've include the website which has access to all the tech bits, photos, videos etc.... enjoy!   http://www.rotoruk.co.uk/qrings.html ).  

Derek Jarman's garden

Anyway, upshot was I was bombing along overtaking quite a few of the faster swimmers (which to be fair was pretty much everyone).  I had a bit of a ding-dong battle into the headwind with guy on a Trek bike but managed to stay ahead (incidentally, he was one of two people who passed me on the run) passing fantastic views of the vast shingle areas of Dungeness - where famously Derek Jarman had his garden.  Somewhere or other I've got a book about it,  how he combined "found" objects, driftwood and the like with plants that could survive the harsh dry maritime conditions. There's a really good piece in The Observer which I've included at the end. http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2008/feb/17/gardens

Back to transition in a reasonable state - another one of the advantages of the Q -rings is that they use slightly different muscle groups to running so the "jelly-legs" that many get going from bike to run aren't quite as pronounced.  Incidentally came 15th overall on the bike leg - I was well chuffed! Onto the run.  I'd taken some advice following my lack of pace downhill (thanks Kevin, Sal and Erica - found some great stuff googling away) so decided to concentrate more on trying to get fore/mid sole landing rather than heel.  It wasn't my fastest ever run but I managed to overtake a few people and was overtaken in pretty spectacular fashion as I'd already mentioned by a couple of guys. However it was the first time that my legs didn't ache - tired yes, but not sore at the end.  I could walk around with comparative ease and no aches and pains the following day either.  So will be certainly trying to get my running style sorted in future races too.  


So race finished just before 9:30 which meant that even with 40 winks in the M20 service station car park I was back home soon after mid-day.  The into the shower with my wetsuit - not in a kinky way you understand - it's just the easiest way to clean it to ensure it doesn't smell too bad before the next race 


Result: 37th out of 99 in a time of 1:23:12


Derek Jarman's Hideaway 
by Howard Sooley

• The Observer, Sunday 17 February 2008
• 

Derek Jarman in the garden at Prospect Cottage in 1992. Photograph: Geraint Lewis/Rex Features

The first time I met Derek was on the final day of filming Edward II Bray Studios near Maidenhead. I was sent to photograph him for a magazine article. When I arrived he looked tired and pale; as it turned out he'd been let out from hospital early especially for that last day of filming. He asked if I could photograph him in Dungeness, instead, the following week. I was happy to oblige. I'd always wanted to visit him there and see the garden he had made.

It was early spring in 1991, and a bright, crisp day in that otherworldliness that is Dungeness. As I pulled up to Prospect Cottage I could see Derek in the garden at the back of the house, busy straightening sticks pushed over in the night by the wind. Behind him in the distance, almost hidden in the morning mist, was the shimmering 'emerald city' of the nuclear power station.

There is something alarming about the 'ness for those unused to the horizon: it is endless, broken occasionally by telegraph poles pushing up from the verge only to be dwarfed by the magnitude of the sky above.

I stepped on to the shingle unaware that with those first echoing footsteps a three-year odyssey was beginning. The crunch of shingle announced my arrival and Derek came to greet me. Inside the house were Derek's partner Keith and a friend, Peter, making tea and mischief in equal measure. As Derek showed me round the garden they picked up my camera and set about making my contact sheets more 'interesting', photographing uncompromising pictures from the TV, and a portrait of Winston Churchill.

Derek and I set out on the first of many walks along the beach up toward the lighthouse. The photographs I took on that day are still among my favourites of him. I suppose they remind me of the start of a friendship, but also now help me to recollect what a strong and beautiful man Derek was, before illness wasted his body.

We made our way over the 'ness, past the fishermen's huts, to the sea. Derek started gathering pieces of driftwood in his arms to be used as firewood back at the cottage. We walked along weaving between the small fishing boats, the beach jewelled with starfish washed up by tide the night before.

Through the sound of the waves on the stones Derek started to reveal to me the treasures of the 'ness, the curious emerging purple shoots of sea kale anchored deep in the moving shingle with their long tap roots, the misty blue leaves of the yellow horned poppy pushing past the dry, dead spires of last years dock flowers, a maritime form of Herb Robert in a tight alpine dome and the entwining tendrils of a sea pea.

The native wild flowers of Dungeness are something special, though some are somewhat hard to see when you are blinded by the immensity of the sky and shingle.

I was to become a frequent visitor over the next few years, up and down the A2 or A21 from London, driving Derek to and fro. The back garden crept further in all directions as our plant treasures collected from the various nurseries along the way were given their chance to make a go of it in the shingle. I grew to love gardening there; the sea breeze cooling the heat of the sun, the fog horn sounding out of the mist.

We were always up early, breakfast in the kitchen at on old table pushed up against the windows, watching the migratory birds, who must have been thankful for the curious array of perches surrounding the cottage.

The garden looked beautiful at that time in the morning. The poppies still tightly closed, waiting for the warmth of the sun. The light there is special, the big skies reflecting back from the sea on both side of the 'ness brought life to even the dullest of colours.

Our days of gardening were punctuated by trips to Rye or Hastings, or up the road to Madrona Nursery, or more often a walk to the sea or down to the ponds at the back of the cottage. These are hidden by a small wood of shrubby willows which poke from the shingle through a carpet of lichen and moss. Just over the tracks of the miniature-gauge railway is a prickly tangle of twigs that, on closer inspection, is a forest of bonsai sloe trees, each only a few inches high and with a spread of about a foot, and when in flower or fruit there is no more precious sight.

Dungeness is a dynamic and wild landscape. A shifting spit of shingle jutting out into the English Channel, being fought over by the waves from two sides and encroaching grass from the other - and, right at the end, a nuclear power station.

Prospect Cottage sits more or less in the middle, parched by baking sun and drying winds in summer, with no shade to be had for miles in any direction. In winter, sea storms rage, while biting Siberian winds push through the shingle and up through the floorboards of the fisherman's cottages strung out along the road to the lighthouse.

You can't take life for granted in Dungeness: every bloom that flowers through the shingle is a miracle, a triumph of nature. Derek knew this more than anyone.

Our frequent trips from Derek's flat in Charing Cross Road and increasingly St Bartholomew's Hospital to Dungeness were plotted by zigzagging lines via the gardens and nurseries of Kent and East Sussex. I remember once picking up Derek from Barts, and driving down the A21 to Washfield Nursery en route to Prospect Cottage. He was quite ill by this point, and told me how the doctors had explained he was becoming progressively blind, and that it would not be long before all his sight was lost. I was feeling deeply sad, but he smiled back at me and started to tell of his plans as a blind filmmaker. By the end of it he was twitching with excitement; it was seemingly as much an opportunity as a disability.

To the front of Prospect Cottage is a quite traditional cottage garden of circular, square and rectangular beds defined by upstanding flint stones, made when Derek first arrived in 1986. It is planted with lavenders, santolinas, poppies and crambes, and provides a welcoming sight as you approach from the road, harbour lights twinkling in the distance.

The back garden is much less formal: the shingle allows you to plant without beds or borders. There's not even a fence (which doesn't happen often in England) so the garden stretches to a vast infinite horizon. People are free to wander through it, and, while Derek was alive, the occasional visitor at weekends or sunny days was, on the whole, a pleasure.

Those days in the garden at Prospect Cottage, with time suspended or off elsewhere bothering someone else, were as rich as days can be. Digging in the shingle, scattering seeds, cutting back the santolinas, breathing in the heavy scent of the sea kale. I can't think of a better use for my senses and soul.

But by the New Year of 1994 our trips to Dungeness were all but over as Derek's strength started to fade dramatically. He had more or less taken up residence in Andrewes ward at St Bartholomew's Hospital, where fluorescent-lit days dimmed to quiet linoleum footsteps in the night, and the chirp of birds was exchanged for the ping of drip machines.

We still took our walks though, usually around Smithfield's market. One day, passing the chapel, Derek wanted to go in and look up hymns that might be sung at his funeral. We sat on a pew at the back in the growing gloom of late afternoon and opened a hymn book. 'I remember this one from school. Great tune, shame about the words,' he said quietly. A few minutes later I looked up to see tears rolling down his face... I put my arm round him and could hear him reading the words of the hymn open in front of him: All Things Bright And Beautiful. Never has a hymn taken on such meaning to me; I understood in that moment the immensity of loss Derek was feeling as he could see the night fall on the light and life of Dungeness.

A couple of weeks later, Derek died silently in a bed on Andrewes ward with Keith, Karl and I by his side.