I’m sitting in my car at Tring Park Cricket Club, its warm
and cosy, but outside people are scurrying around in the rain, some wearing that
well known fashion item, the black bin-liner. Others are running around in
shorts and vests – is it warmer out there than I think? 25 minutes to go – I
emerge from the car wearing my jacket and realise the answer is no, it’s not! Any
thoughts I had of not bothering with a jacket rapidly evaporate. A quick jog
around the field to ‘warm up’ (literally) and I notice one or two men admiring the
scenery through the hedge and make a mental note that the queues for the toilets
must be long – luckily I didn’t need to find out. 15 minutes to go - I have
warmed up a bit and the other runners are beginning to make their way to the
start so I join them. 5 minutes to go - gallows humour is the order of the day
as we stand in the wind and rain, spectators nearby wrapped up in coats and
huddling under umbrellas. It’s cold, it’s wet and we are all about to run 10miles
in this weather.
There is no hooter or whistle - people just begin to shuffle
forward soon after 10am and then we’re off and running. The first mile is flat
and along a farm track and I pick my way through the puddles. We cross a road
soon afterwards and run along a grass verge. By now I am picking my way through
mud as well as puddles. There is a delay while we queue to enter the first of
many footpaths and begin a gradual climb through the woods. We emerge at the
edge of a golf course and running on grass makes a welcome change. Then it’s
over another road, through a farmyard and the mud returns with a vengeance.
I’ve given up trying to avoid the mud and puddles by now and just splash
through regardless.
Then it’s time for the first big climb up to Bridgewater
Monument. I try to run up the footpath but the slippery mud and steepness
defeat me. I walk as fast as I can and start running when I reach the top. My
family are there to meet me and cheer me on. The first 3 miles have been done
in around 37 minutes - about what I expected. We get some respite then and are
running on a decent track through the woods along the top of the ridge. We
reach the halfway point and I have settled in with a group of 5 or 6 other
runners.
Just after 5 miles we start down a sloping footpath – the
mud is worse than ever here and I feel my feet slip a few times. Then the
inevitable happens and I go over. I land on my right side and slide in the mud
for a metre or so. I get up, the other runners stop to check I am okay, I seem
okay, so I wipe my muddy hands on the grass and we all set off again.
Soon
after that we reach Inchcombe Hole, a steep grassy descent. I feel my feet begin
to slip again and am taking no chances so I walk until the slope lessens. At
6mls we cross another road and I can see Pitstone Hill ahead. The time is
around 70 minutes so I still seem to be on schedule. My family are there again
– I give them a quick wave and I try to run up the hill but admit defeat and
walk (like everyone around me). I’ve lost contact by now with the other runners
who were nearby and am by myself.
After another flat ridge section we start to slowly descend
along the route of the Ridgeway Path through the woods. There are some flattish
sections here but it’s mostly downhill on muddy paths and towards the end there
are even some steps. I don’t take any chances and walk down them. A couple more
muddy footpaths to negotiate and then we emerge onto the road and run back
along the grass verge to the original farm track. The traffic stops for the
marshals, I cross the road and am relieved to finally be back on solid ground.
I look around and see I am a long way ahead of the runner
behind me. Ahead I can see the stragglers of the group I was with in the first
half of the race. We’re all struggling by now and having to take short walk
breaks. On the plus side the heavy rain has washed most of the mud off my legs.
I eventually pass under the start banner and realise I am into the last mile. I
have gradually been catching a couple of ladies ahead of me. I pass one as we
take a left-hand corner and 100yds up the road I pass the other lady. By now
runners who have already finished are making their way back along the route
looking for their slower friends. They don’t get in the way and get growled at
and I make my way through some trees and turn right onto the road leading back
to the cricket club. I can’t see anyone ahead of me by now. I glance back and the
ladies I passed are both walking again so I risk a final quick walk break.
Then I see the entrance to the finishing field across the
road ahead of me and start running. I reach the entrance, the marshals hold up
the traffic, I cross the road and run through the gate, their shouts
encouraging me to attempt a sprint finish. After one final effort and I cross
the finish line to the cheers of my family who have made their way back. I look
at my Garmin and am amazed to see that despite my earlier fall and having to
walk down the steep sections I have beaten last years’ time by a minute and I’m
left wondering what might have been if the weather had been better.
The marshalling was excellent throughout and the signs
everywhere meant there was no chance of going astray. I collect my tech t-shirt
(a tasteful shade of day-glo orange this year!) and wander back to see my
family and explain how the run went and about my fall. I am soaked through and
it’s too cold to stand around for too long so I say my goodbyes and head back
to the car thinking I’ll more than likely be back again in 2014.
