The Coventry Way: Exploding Bladders & Appalling Navigation

I love the Coventry Way 40 mile run. It’s a circular loop which rings – Surprise! Surprise! -  Coventry and it’s mostly on grassy trails, lumpy fields and tiny hidden paths. I’ve run it three times but I’ve still got only the vaguest idea of the route. My pub-and cake-radar is exemplary. But my trail-memory is truly appalling. 

How smug I was laying this out for the photo while on the kitchen counter, my water bladder was pouring orange water everywhere ...

I didn’t have the finest preparation; finishing work unexpectedly after midnight without having packed or prepared a single item. Meh ... I’ve run ultras before, right? What could go wrong?

Not checking the water bladder I was using and finding I'd used the leaky one I keep meaning to throw out and forgetting about doing it was one of the things I did wrong. Luckily I discovered this BEFORE I left the house but AFTER I’d filled it and packed my ultra vest with snacks leaving me contemplating my cake and bars floating around in a vaguely orangey smelling pool of water on the side in the kitchen. I wasn’t entirely ecstatic upon discovering this and woke up the husband with such foul language that he probably assumed that I was in a kind of swear battle with a sarcasm and profanity fluent sailor with Tourette’s specific to water bladders and ultra running. 

I rushed to try and sort the mess, not realising the sudocrem I had applied to my toes so carefully was leaking through my socks and leaving white (and very difficult to remove) footprints on the carpets around the house. 

After adding some more even more imaginative profanities to the ones current floating in the air around the house, I was discovered by my husband on my hands and knees with white feet furiously scrubbing the carpet with baby wipes while my water bladder was washing bars and snacks along the side in the kitchen in an citrus-scented tidal wave. 

Yeah. Sexy feet. *boke*

Leaving a trail of destruction in my wake and the kitchen in an appalling state, I finally got to the village of Meriden two hours later than I’d wanted and a bit concerned about whether race registration would close before I got there. As mentioned I’d run this event three times previously and the registration was in the same place as it had always been - in the Queens Head pub in Meriden. A village of approximately 100 houses. Could I find this distinctive and very familiar pub? Could I hell. After raging at myself I plugged in the sat nav which promptly directed me onto the 15 second drive to the pub. As I was so late absolutely everyone else had disappeared over the horizon having already started their races.

I set off on my own which was a novelty and actually quite nice as there was no need to justify my run speed – or lack of it. Well … it was nice for about 10 minutes, after which I promptly got bored. 

After a bit of a trot on my own, I finally saw a runner in front of me which was a relief as had thought I might not see another person all day. Often runners often set off two hours before the time I'd started and I'd resigned myself to a bit of a lonely day thanks to my dreadful organisation, leaky water bladder and terrible navigation skills. Caught the other runner up and found out his name was Andy which I promptly forgot and had to be reminded about when I called him Steve (sorry Ste- … Andy) and we appeared to be running around the same speed so we decided to run together for a bit.

I proudly announced that I had run this route three times and DEFINITELY knew the way … and then proceeded to get lost at EVERY junction until it was tactfully decided that I should run BEHIND Andy who would be in control of the race directions. 

In my defence I knew MOST of the way, just not the part 10 miles from the start as I was normally catching up with friends for this bit and listening to all their news so chatting rather than navigating … Yep. I may be rubbish at navigating but I'm brilliant at making up excuses justifying my terrible navigation.

We started coming up to walkers doing the trail at around 12 miles in. It was obvious from the gaiters up to their knees and the massive backpacks that these guys were out for a LONG day. I have a lot of respect to these girls and guys and it’s a long time on your feet walking 40 miles. 

It was a nice sociable run, we leapfrogged a lot with 'Mr Lakeland Red T-shirt ' (who later identified himself as Darren) who was running a cracking pace but having a 'dodgy tummy day' and  having to duck into various bushy bushes along the way. He'd usually zoom past us and then he'd zoom past us AGAIN … having been hidden by a bush at some point as we'd passed. 

We got a bit excited at around 11 o clock as the drizzle stopped briefly and the sun seemed like it was coming out but it was a false alarm, probably the glow from an open pub door … so we settled down to more drizzle. 

Some of the trail went over wooden bridges which were a bit slippery, the wooden planks sodden due to the previous rain and mud trodden into them from other people passing across them. The trail can be tough sometimes as it goes across rough – for Warwickshire! - terrain. However, a plus side of starting later was that the trails across the lumpy ploughed fields had been mashed down by the previous 200 walkers and runners so this  made progress much easier than hopping from clod to clod. 

It was nice to see Claire and her friend Hilary from Lancashire at around mile 20 heading along a stony track coming towards Brandon. We stopped for a brief catch up and the promise of a pint at the end. Always good to have an incentive to finish a race strongly … and with the promise of cider.

Jo Steele, one of the most trail-loving people I know was at the checkpoint in Bulkington and we had a chat and she didn't even pinch the last glass of cola this time. Things were looking up!! (I'd seen Jo last year and she'd been quicker than me in one of the aid stations and had nabbed the last sip of cola …!) I'd been a bit worried this year as I'd started so late and was concerned that the aid stations would be closing up or not replenishing their food as a lot of people would have already come through but my fears were unfounded … every one was still as well stocked as if there were 150 more people behind me in the last stages of starvation. 

I had packed myself some food this time and had gone with peanut butter and avocado wraps. Separately though. Together sounds like a taste sensation but not a good sensation. A retching sensation. They were good and still tasted ok squashed flat in my run vest. Andy was probably grateful too as the peanut butter stuck my teeth together for a while so he had a couple of minutes of quiet. 

The weather last year had been very hot, but coming up to the Coventry Way this year there had been some substantial rain. Up until the start time, there had been several diversions in place due to course flooding and I had been a bit concerned as wouldn't know the way with the diversions … however it appeared I didn't know the way without the diversions so that was ok. And just to get really confusing, the diversions had been cancelled as the water had gone down so now I really, really still didn't know the way. So that was all right then.

However, it was still a bit mushy in sections and I managed to step in pretty every sheep poo in Warwickshire so I wasn't leaving the course with dry feet. Or any sheep dung untrodden. 

I'd asked Simon if he wanted to meet me where the Coventry Way passed onto the canal at about mile 26 by Nettle Farm. Last year this us where I'd started to find the run tough and I'd done the adult equivalent of throwing my toys out of the pram (throwing my handbag out of the car window on the M6?) so I thought it would be nice to have some company at this section. As it was, I was running with Andy and Darren for this part which was nice so we all had a good chat for this section which is usually a bit of a boring drag  after the pretty fields and lanes.

After dreading the canal for so long and actually finding it fine, the next 10 miles flew past. As an additional bonus, I had forgotten about the caravan checkpoint which came as a lovely surprise and I scoffed as much food as I could in delight for having an additional opportunity to. Sweetie-ed up, we set out on the last leg and the final checkpoint which was 3 miles from the end. 

We found Richie at mile 38, who I've previously run 1.5 Coventry Ways with before so that was nice and we spent a happy few minutes having a catch up and before we knew it we were all flying down the final mile to the pub at the end. It sounds lovely having a final downhill mile at the end of an ultra, but actually it's never as nice as it sounds as by that point my legs are all “get me into the pub at the end, dimwit” and I have a hard job persuading them that the best way to get there is by running as they've gone all jellied with excitement as being able to stop shortly. 

One of the great things about the Coventry Way (have I mentioned the pub?) is that it starts and finishes at the Queens Head pub. There's usually a crowd of supporters who cheer you in loudly and with enthusiasm and with their pints in their hands. It's another reason to get there as quick as you can before the support crews drink the pub dry.

Another bonus is getting fed at the end. I get a hot meal and the chance to catch up with the other runners under a nice dry marquee as I scoff a hot potato and cake with my shoes and socks off. Plus it's a local race so there are lots of familiar faces so I get to have a nice catch up and hear about everyone else's exciting races. 

Me, Darren and Andy at the finish. 

I'm lucky to have such a nice race local to me and it's one I look forward to every year. Used it as my last long run for marathon training last year. Might do the same next year. Coventry Way, you're a cracker. 

Salomon Speedcross 4 Review: Cow-Poo-Proof, New Lug Pattern & Grippier Grip

Despite their multiple colour combinations, the Salomon Speedcross are easily recognisable and always in attendance at any trail race or ultra marathon. One of the big shoe debates for trail running is between the Inov-8 Mudclaw or the Salomon Speedcross … personally I’ve always been a Salomon girl. I like that each shoe feels the same - I can pick up and go in any pair, whether I’ve run 250 or 15 miles in them and know that I shouldn’t get any problems, blisters or issues. 

NEW KIT DAY!!!

At first glance the Speedcross 4 look very similar to the Speedcross 3 - same overall design with the QuickLace lacing system, triangle design on shoe sides and contra grip sole with chevron lugs. 

However a closer look reveals a few smaller differences, the symbol on the front of the toe has changed to the Salomon ’S’ on the 4, text placement and a higher rubber outsole heel. Salomon have also removed the half-lugs on the sole and changed the lug pattern. 

LEFT: Speedcross 4, RIGHT: Speedcross 3 (my well-worn pair)

The lugs have been changed to ensure a more even wear. If you’ve owned a pair of the Speedcross 3 you’d probably have notice that the half-lugs on the edge of the shoe wore down more quickly than the full lugs. So on this version, Salomon have removed all the half-sized lugs so the shoe now has full sized lugs all over the sole and positioned these for maximum traction. 

On the topic of traction, Salomon have used a newer, improved version of Contagrip rubber in the sole. The Speedcross 4 which previously had excellent traction in the 3 now thanks to the new Contragrip - have an better grip! Trialling the shoes, I found that the contact was great in mud, on stones, trails, wet roads … the only thing I could find that gave the Speedcross 4 any grip issues was muddy cobbles … but I also can’t suggest anything else that could possibly have found any traction on that surface either!

The Speedcross 4 have also got the QuickLace lacing system which is one of my favourites as not only do the laces not come undone, you can tuck them out of the way in the pocket in the shoe tongue. 

LEFT: Speedcross 4, RIGHT: Speedcross 3 (my well-worn pair)

Apparently the version 4 is lighter than the Speedcross 3 and picking them up they do feel significantly lighter but I haven’t weighed them to check. Mainly because my Speedcross 3, while much loved, are also still covered in mud from Sunday’s trails and I suspect this might skew the balance a bit … 

Similar to the Speedcross 3, the Speedcross 4 are easy to clean off even at their muddiest. A quick hose down sorts them out even after being absolutely revolting and covered in ‘rural mud’ (*ahem* cow shit) and it hasn’t dulled the colours at all. Another note on the material is that the version 4 is more durable than the Speedcross 3 and incorporates better debris guards in the fabric. This is brilliant new for me as despite the heavy use, my Speedcross 3 last virtually forever, only going eventually on the toe areas in the upper fabric. At this rate, 1 pair of version 4 will last me the rest of my life. (Note: Ask me in a couple of years how they’re doing). 

BOTTOM: Speedcross 4, TOP: Speedcross 3 (my well-worn pair)

A downside I’ve found of the Speedcross 4 is that they feel narrower than my version 3s. As a runner with wide feet, I’ve found my massive paddles feel slightly more constricted in this version. Not good news for ultras as my feet tend to swell over about 50 miles or in heat … and I have tended to use my Speedcross 3 for all of my ultras. If these don’t ease with use, then this could be a big problem for me. Another thing I’ve noticed is that the heel raise is slightly higher even allowing for the higher lugs. I’ve had a bit of an ankle ache and while I’m reluctant to attribute this entirely to either the SC4 or the higher profile of the shoes, this might be a contributing factor. I’ve also liked the almost barefoot running feel (for me!) of the version 3s and not sure I’d want additional cushioning. However, I’ve so far only run 60-100 miles in the shoes so this might just be bedding in issues and the comfort of the footbed and padding is very good. 

BOTTOM: Speedcross 4, TOP: Speedcross 3 (my well-worn pair)

Overall

I like the shoes and in the main there are few differences in the versions. The lug change seems to be positive and the grip is a plus and if there’s improved durability then this is definitely a plus on a hardwearing shoe. However, the higher profile might be an issue for some and I’m reserving judgement on whether I’m going to make a straight switch to the 4s or to try and hoard as many of the remaining 3s online until I’ve put a few more miles on these Speedcross 4. 

Price: £100 (currently £63 in Millets Sports sale)

I got mine from Millet Sports here. 

Disclaimer - I’ve only run 60 - 100 miles in these shoes to date so there may be problems I haven’t spotted … or they may be even more awesome than I think they are. 

Millet Sports sent me the shoes to review as part of their Running Footwear range and as usual I've written exactly what I thought of them and took no payment. 

14 Reasons To Take a 5yo to a 24hr Event: When Running An Ultra Isn’t Enough Stress

Running a 24hr event? Why not take your small child along to add additional challenges! Unable to find your bra? The 5 year old will be running around the field wearing it! Want to nap? No – it’s time to play ‘Tigers’ in the trees instead! Want some peace? Unlucky! You’ll have to negotiate peace between 2 warring 5 year olds because one fell out of the tree onto the other ‘on purpose’.  Who wants to JUST run long distance and camp in fields anyway?

1. You get to play games such as ‘Who Lost My Shoe And Why Is The Other One On The Wrong Foot’ and ‘Why Isn’t The Sun Shining, Mummy? Mummy? Mummy?’ and ‘Why Can’t I Play With The Stove? That’s Not FAIR!’ instead of having to eat your meals in the gaps between laps, toilet trips and sleeping.

2. You get to help them nap on your airbag AND sleeping bag by lying sideways on them both. Not using them, just stopping YOU using them.

3. You get to share all your snacks. They share the pick n mix, the chocolate, the flapjacks and the pudding. But you get to do the washing up all by yourself. 

4. You get to pretend to be a tiger instead of relaxing. You shouldn’t be relaxing at a running event anyway, right?

5. You get to arbitrate arguments between 5 year olds and should you ever need to talk down a suicide bomber standing next to a fireworks factory you will find it a piece of cake after this. “I’m sorry you have a sore bit because your friend fell out of the tree onto you. It was an accident and I’m sure she has sore bits from falling onto YOU. Let’s give you both some more of Mummy’s snacks. No you both have EXACTLY the same amount of snacks. And yes you’ve eaten ALL of them.”

6. You get to do an exciting game of ‘Find All Your Underwear Around The Camping Field’ because you let the 5 year olds play in the tent, they’ve tried all your clothes on and discarded your bras all around the campsite. 

Ooh! Is that my bra ... (This is an ACTUAL race pic from Endure 24)

7. Your map memory gets hugely improved due to having to find the quickest way to the portaloos after having to take them “urgently!” to the loo 509 times. “It’s ok Mummy. I don’t need to go any more now!” 

8. You get to test your middle-of-the-night-foot-sensitivity after your nighttime-dash-to-the-portaloos-wellies get filled with magnetic letters, grass, stones and tiny action figures. 

9. You get to attempt the flooding technique to cure your hayfever as grass gets in the tent, in your clothes, your sleeping bag and in your coffee. Everywhere. There is grass EVERYWHERE. Carried in on tiny size 10 feet. HOW DO SUCH TINY FEET CARRY SO MUCH GRASS??

10. You get to practise the no-sleep you’ve been meaning to try for your long distance ultra runs. But in a tent between laps. Camping 5 year olds do not sleep. Ever. 

11. Your night vision improves dramatically in a short space of time due to a previously fully charged head torch having a flat battery as someone has been playing ‘lighthouses’ with it. It’s amazing how quickly your eyes can adapt when you’re running in a dark wood full of strange noises at 2am and your headtorch fails. 

12. You get to improve your explaining skills as the 5 year old gets the good sleeping bag. And the old sleeping bag. And the warm blanket. And you have to roll yourself in coats to stay warm in a freezing cold tent in the middle of the night. And get evil looks when 5 year old tells people “I couldn't have my coat when it was cold last night because Mummy was wearing it.”

13. You get to practise your herding skills when they keep running off to find their friends who are approximately 2 fields and 500 tents away and you have to work out the best way to cut them off before they cross the road / get lost in a massive sea of tents / lock themselves in a portaloo. Sheepdogs? Pah.

14. You develop your upper body strength by working out a way to hold them above a race portaloo without letting any part of their body touch the seat, the walls or the floor. And then improve your washing skills as you attempt to find a way to get pee off your running kit.

She's happy when she's not tired, hungry or on fire ...

Reasons NOT to take 35 year old friend Loz to a 24 hour event:

1. She gets grumpy when she’s tired.

2. She gets grumpy when she’s hungry.

3. She sets herself on fire trying to light the stove, then attempts to kill everyone by flailing bits of burning Loz around and setting the stove on fire. 

Reasons TO take 35 year old friend Loz to a 24 hour event:

1. Entertainment.

Note: Do not allow to use stoves.

Team More Endure (Pic by Cath)

Hope 24: How To Be An Amazing (*Amazingly Shite*) Support Crew

For once it wasn’t me running. It was the husband’s turn to have a go at running a 24hr race solo. I was promoted from ‘runner’ to ‘support crew’. Decided would attempt a Stepford Wife style support system but with wellies and noodles instead of heels and freshly-baked cookies.

Step ford Wife (Source)

Friday

4:30pm: As was going to be Best-Support-Crew-Wife ever I drove the car which I’d packed full of games for the hotel and snacks for the road. Even decided to allow husband to share snacks. However did give him a 2-turnarounds-max and 2-miles-from-home-radius for going back to the house to retrieve forgotten items. 

5:30pm: Drive going smoothly despite small argument over last chocolate bar and there wasn’t even any sulking (I got the chocolate bar).  

7:30pm: Discovered had somehow been conned into driving to Plymouth which is practically Cornwall and involves 145 miles on the M5. Stop at services and order husband out of car to bulk buy energy drinks. He comes back with one drink. Resist urge to sulk as am on Best-Support-Crew-Wife duty.

8:30pm: SatNav directs us to a dodgy looking housing estate in Plymouth on what appears to be an episode of Shameless. Husband gets shirty and threatens to take over driving. I get shirty and threaten to kick him out of car on dodgy looking housing estate. Compromise by locking all the car doors (to stop people getting in rather than us getting out) and navigating using map.

9:00pm: Finally get to hotel and discover have picked up wrong package and have brought parcel containing the cat’s new scratching post instead of the parcel containing the games. And the snacks are in the car.

9:01pm: Decide Best-Support-Crew-Wife doesn’t apply until race day and give up and go to bed. 

Saturday

8:00am: As hotel is only 5 miles from race venue can have a lie in until it’s time to put on support kit and wellies. Perfect. Prepare Husband-Solo-Runner coffee and breakfast.

10:00am: Husband has locked himself in bathroom. Suspect is nervous. Will leave him in there and practise Supportive-wife-style-smiling for Support Crew Duties.

10:15am: Getting a bit concerned as registration closes in 45 minutes and husband is still locked in bathroom. Practise more smiling and soothing “don’t be nervous” voice.

10:30am: Forget about Stepford-wife style role and bang on bathroom door.  Is not nerves. Husband-Solo-Runner had forgotten about time and was playing computer games on phone. Smile slips somewhat and resists urge to clobber Husband-Solo-Runner around head with welly.

10:52am: Finally get to race venue after mad dash drive through Plymouth. Under speed limit of course. Park car in field after finding brilliant spot by finish arch and close enough to loos for middle of night trips but not close enough to smell them. Am natural at this support crew stuff.

10:53am: Send Husband-Solo-Runner off to register and collect race number.

10:54am: Put up tent and gazebo all on my own. Blow up air mattresses and arrange food and kit. Am obviously AMAZING support crew. Suspect will get promoted soon to Queen of Solo Support Crews.

10:55am: Husband-Solo-Runner sits in car scoffing food and playing on phone.

10:56am: I make coffee and make sure everything is perfect.

11:00am: Race briefing.  

11:55am: Husband-Solo-Runner goes and stands on start with everyone else. I go and find a spot to cheer and take photos. This will probably be the only time in 24 hour race Husband-Solo-Runner will be smiling. I don’t tell him this. 

11:59am: Husband-Solo-Runner runs up to me in a panic "I forgot to charge my Garmin and it won’t turn on..." Start to say “You complete tw-...” Then remember am supposed to be Awesome Support Crew and stop sentence and give him my brand new Suunto to use instead. Resist urge to clobber him around head with welly. 

12:30pm: Went and clapped him at the 2.5 mile point. Went and clapped him at the 4 mile point.

1:25pm: Lap 2: Went and clapped Husband-Solo-Runner at the 2.5 mile point. Went and clapped him at the 4 mile point. 

2pm: Went and got snacks on ready for Husband-solo-runner. Made coffee. Prepared fresh socks. Did whole Stepford Wife thing but in running gear and wellies. Am AMAZING at being support crew! Suspect may win trophy for being best Support Crew ever. Make a note to email race organisers about making this A Thing. 

2:15pm: Have revelation about what would improve 24 hour races even further: beer tent. Had hopeful explore of campsite. No beer tent. Make a note to email race organisers about making this Another Thing. 

2:30pm: Ran lap 3 with Husband-Solo-Runner in attempt to encourage and support up close. And to take mind off lack of beer tent. Amazingly beautiful run course. Fricking massive hills though but had excuse to walk up hills as had to make sure Husband-Solo-Runner goes slowly. Even ran down hills slowly which is just plain wrong. Ran with Husband-Solo-Runner and let him dictate speed despite wanting to run fast and enjoy hills. Am obviously amazing support crew.  

4:00pm: Husband-Solo-Runner went round on another lap so went and did some loud cheering and clapping for the Solo Runners. They looked a bit bemused. They’d only done about 15 miles at this point and had hardly made a dent in their snacks. However am sure they appreciated the effort INSIDE.

4:10pm: Throat bit sore from all the enthusiastic cheering. Had a chat to Alice of Cirencester and saw Linda and Steve of Yeovil Town Road Runners.

4:15pm: Went and had a nice sit down. I could get used to this sitting. 

Had a bit of flapjack. This is the life. Sitting, eating snacks and reading in the sunshine. Tried some of the crispy cakes.

Read a bit of book. More snacking. Bored of book.

Went on Facebook. Read ALL of Facebook. Mmmm flapjack. Mmm crispy cakes.

Went on twitter. Read ALL of twitter. Mmmm cake.

Bored. I wonder what these nuts taste like.

Will read twitter again.

Unable to find more flapjack and realise I have eaten ALL of the flapjacks (1 entire box) and ALL of the crispy cakes (1 entire box). And all of the nuts. 

Shit. Can’t feed Husband-Solo-Runner on grass and empty noodle packets. Resist urge to clobber self around head with welly.

Remember we passed a Tesco on the way to site.

Realise can’t get car out of field due to runners.

Panic.

PANIC!

Realise mad panic is probably due to huge amounts of sugar and remember am runner so can RUN to Tesco to get snacks.

Check on husband-solo-runner. Have 35 minutes until he is due back at tent. Get a sprint on. 

Make it back to tent loaded up with food and snacks before Husband-Solo-Runner realises all food is missing. Phew. Is lucky am runner. 

5:00pm: Is only 5hrs in and Husband-Solo-Runner is already refusing food. This is going to result in dramatics later on. Luckily it also means he hasn’t spotted the missing crispy cakes. Resist urge to clobber him around head with welly.

5:10pm: A man in a clown suit keeps honking his horn at me. Is this a hallucination brought on from eating ALL the cake? 

6:00pm: As expected Husband-Solo-Runner is being all dramatic and complaining about feet. (And lack of crispy cakes). Forced Husband-Solo-Runner to eat noodles. He cheered up dramatically after eating food. Sent him out to run another lap.

6:45pm: Just had to use the line. “No. No more noodles until you’ve run another 5 miles. Here have a banana.” Am evil run crew. Decide have discovered amazing new Support Crew Distraction: Runger Games. Like the Hunger Games but with noodles and 5 mile runs.   

8:00pm: Went out and ran 2 more laps with him with a headtorch. Actually physically ran behind him and PUSHED him up all the hills. Have secured place in history as best support ever. Apart from eating all the food.

10:30pm: 45 miles done. Decided Husband-Solo-Runner deserved a dirty burger but burger van out of burgers and refusing to sell us sausage inna bun as these were for breakfast time. Hurriedly bought Husband-Solo-Runner plate of chilli as he was eyeing up the tethered dog.

10:45pm: Husband-Solo-Runner refusing to run in the dark and went to bed. Resist urge to clobber him around head with welly. Am sure 24hr races supposed to last for 24hrs ... but am not complaining as comfy sleeping bag and air mattress. Plus have stolen The Warm Blanket. Decide is a good plan to sleep until morning. Make mental note to try not to snore so as to keep up role of Awesome Support Crew. 

Sunday

7:00am: Woken up by Husband-Solo-Runner leaving the tent. Waved sleepily at him from sleeping bag. Couldn’t face cheering. Too early. Too loud.

7:30am: Decided HAD to get up and be amazing support crew again. Sigh. Supporting is hard.

7:45am: Man in clown suit now dressed in chicken suit. Suspect is results of extreme sleep deprivation.

8AM: HAD CAKE AND ENERGY DRINK FOR BREAKFAST! WILL FIND HUSBAND-SOLO-RUNNER AND ENCOURAGE HIM BY RUNNING REALLY FAST IN CIRCLES! CHEERING! AND RUNNING! AND CHEERING!

RAN WITH HUSBAND-SOLO-RUNNER!! PUSHED HIM UP SOME HILLS!

DECIDED WOULD DO HILL REPS USING MASSIVE HILLS ON COURSE. USED TREE AT BOTTOM OF HILL AND EXTREMELY SLOW MOVING HUSBAND-SOLO-RUNNER  AS TARGET FOR THE ENDS OF THE REPS. DECIDED THAT HUSBAND-SOLO-RUNNER  SECRETLY ENJOYED BEING PART OF A TEAM AND ME DOING HILL REPS AROUND HIM WAS ACTUALLY VERY ENCOURAGING AND NOT ACTUALLY “REALLY F**KING ANNOYING!” LIKE HE SAID.   

9:00am: Sugar crash. Do not want to walk up any more hills. Husband-Solo-Runner is being grumpy. Not sure why he’s being so grumpy. Not as if he has a tummy ache from all of the flapjacks he didn’t eat yesterday. Huff. 

10:00am: Husband-Solo-Runner also refusing my help pushing him up hills in daylight. Apparently “Is embarrassing and all the other solos will laugh.” Huff. I’m not the one walking like have had a brown accident in shorts. 

11:00am: Husband-Solo-Runner adamant he does not want to do 65 miles but suspect he secretly would like to do more than target. Try to get him to run down the hills but he is not keen. He had a go after I threatened to withhold noodles but his evil-disjointed-scarecrow style of having-run-60-miles is scary. Relieved when he stops running to do his usual ‘Brown Accident’ style walking. 

11:59am: The race finishing horn blows when we are about 12ft from the finishing line. The look of relief on Husband-Solo-Runner s face when he realised he wouldn’t be allowed to run another lap is somewhere between Oh-My-God-They’re-Giving-Out-Free-Beer and I’ve-Eaten-All-The-Chilli-But-I-Have-Loo-Roll. He is relieved, ecstatic to have hit 60 mile target and thankful to be allowed to stop. 

12:30pm: A successful weekend. Husband-Solo-Runner has hit his target, I got to eat all the food and we found a brilliant new event that we’ll definitely be returning to. Wonder if I can persuade Husband-Solo-Runner to push ME up all the hills next year?

About Hope 24:
Hope 24 is a 24hr event run on 5 mile loops around a country estate. Big hills, gorgeous trail route and a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. £45 entry, camping is free and the money raised from the event goes to a charity so it's all for a good cause.
You can enter here.

A Run with a Friend. And a Biscuit.

Through the gate and past the horses, our feet flying across the wet grass. Enjoying the rain against our faces. The horses come towards us but we run away, on through the field. No carrots today, horses.

Jump the electric fence – over in one leap, fence and grass sailing beneath me – and down on the grass the other side. She jumps after me in an ungainly way almost catching her feet in the fence. We run on. On to the bottom of the field.

Through the gate and out into the muddy rutted earth on the other side, wide puddles made by massive tractor tyres. The water is dark and murky, raindrops making ripples.

Splash – through the puddles at top speed! Splash! Jump the thick mud! This is great fun! Why can’t all my runs be like this? The water and mud make patterns up my legs.

On, on! Run, run!

Under the railway bridge, my feet and breathing echoing harshly back from the dark dripping stones as we pass.

Across the field ... and cows! I’ve avoided cows since a recent incident and subsequent cow chase – with me at the front - which ended in a dash and slide under a fence. Quick! But the cows watch us, their faces bovine and dull. They don’t move towards us, don’t think about chasing us, just turn their heavy heads to watch our progress.

Uh-oh. A kissing gate. I HATE these. I try to get under the fence but am called back and we go through the kissing gate together.

 

The mud is up to my knees now, brown splashes on my face. 

Through a ploughed field, a single smooth path through the middle, worn flat by other feet than ours. I take the lead and she follows on behind, running, her feet kicking up clods of earth.

Pheasants clatter up in front of us. Over the hedge and gone before I have a chance to react.

Ugh. Another kissing gate, another pause to get through it before we can run again.

2 tall grey birds in the field, standing tall. They flap away slowly and ponderously as we come towards them. So slowly, I think I could catch one.

We run towards the woods, the long wet grass washing the mud from my legs and we are up to (another!) kissing gate and into the dark of the woods. The path is covered by fallen autumn leaves, damp and slick and I want to run along the banks, where the grip is better and there are no paths but I cannot. I stay on the path and run, run hard, jumping the fallen branches and looking for the next trail.

The rain is dripping on my face from the tree canopy overhead, the ground slick under my feet. I feel alive and I am running. Running fast. This is how running should be. The dimness of the woods all around me, the falling leaves flickering between branches, the rain making everything smell fresh and earthy.

I start as a squirrel runs across the path and disappears into the undergrowth. Squirrel! I love squirrels! I want to follow it, to chase it, to find it! But I am aware that she is behind me and would not be happy about going through the undergrowth. I have to share my run today so I stay on the path.

Out of the woods and down a paved road, wide enough for us to run side by side. Around the corner, under the apple trees. I know she wants to stop and scrump an apple but she does not, can not as a group of walkers are clustered at the corner. We exchange greetings and run past. I put my nose in the air. I am RUNNING not walking today.

Through – sigh, would you believe another kissing gate? – and across the fields, the sheep are scattering before us, but I resist the temptation to scare them, to make them run properly. They scatter and come back, staring at us, running through their field. Their plump woolly bodies quivering with indignation at the interlopers, running across THEIR grass.

Another gate, I wait for her - these things are complicated – and up a hill. The grass is short here, rabbit-nibbled and scattered with leaves from the oak trees. We run a bit, walk a bit. The steepness of the hill and the mud has robbed her legs of the strength they had earlier. Me? I could run for miles. Miles and miles.

Through another gate and down a narrow trail. It’s muddy and slippery and there’s only room for moving in single-file here. She follows behind, running but treading carefully. I’m fine. My feet are sure and steady.

 

A rabbit! A rabbit! Across the path! I jump forward and almost knock her off her feet.

“Wait!” I wait but I REALLY want to run faster. Through the woods, through the puddles and the drifts of leaves. But I wait.

We run together, our feet making hardly any sound on the leaves and we quicken our pace through the woods. It’s spooky here, there’s the remains of a path between the dark shadowy trees but it doesn’t feel nice here. There were buildings here once but the trees have grown up since making dark places and shadows. We move faster and we are soon out into the sunshine.

A view of the town, the houses small and doll-like in the distance and we are running down the hill, down the trail, the grass growing through the middle of the road. The hill sharpens and our legs take us fast down to the fields, past the hunting lodge. Down the sweeping hills with gravel underfoot, past the castle and the lake gleaming dimly silver under the dark grey skies. We run together and it’s nice. Nice to run, nice to have company.

The final grassy uphill is waterlogged and muddy. Our feet splash in the puddles and the mud. It’s slippery and our legs are filthy again.

Onto the road, I stay on the pavement between her and the hedge. She is in bright neon yellow and is easy to see. In my cream coat I am not so visible so I stay in, tight. I hate the cars coming past, the blast of damp air into my face and the spray from the road. We are still running, but next to a busy road is not the same as the soft trails and the calm of the fields and woods.

The pavement ends, but I can see our house at the top of the hill. The road is narrow, the houses widely spaced. We dash from gateway to gateway avoiding the traffic speeding past and a final sprint brings us to the 5-barred-gate and home, off the road. Safe from the traffic. Home.

She looks down at me and pats me. “Good dog.”

AND I get a biscuit.

Today has been a good day.