Saturday 2nd Feb SMC run

Day 35 - Saturday 4th February 18.3 miles : total miles to date 187.9

 What a glorious morning. The car registered -9 oC on the way to the meeting point and I was prepared with two buffs, wolly hat, three layers on top, gloves and rucksack. The bag had a variety of items, including a first aid kit, the obligatory toilet roll, a spare jacket, mars bar, water, small towel, aspirin, camera and a black bin bag. Why a bin bag? For the smelly and wet kit at the end. Despite the cold and various races, we had a great turnout yet again. Katie was there raring to go for the fourth weekend in a row, as well as a new lad and yet another returning SMC member in the shape of Jim Dodd's, which was great to see. Jim hasn't been out for some years and I think my insistence on sending him weekly Thursday planning mails, finally broke his resolve to stay away. A very welcome return, even if it was under duress. We hadn't had Jim and Chris Jenart out together for three years, although Shergar and Lord Lucan didn't turn up in the end.

The first hill

The Flying Scotsman George Arbuckle

Niki, Chris, the two Phil's and Paula

The two Phil's and Katie

 The route involved a very big hill for almost the first mile which did wonders to warm everyone up. Unfortunately, I think it panicked the new lad who had visions of another twelve miles of more of the same. I tried to re-assure him, but a mile or so later he turned around and went back. He confessed that he had eaten far too much for breakfast and felt sick. 

All the crew 

Niki, Jason and speed demon Claire

 The crowd had pushed on with RJ relishing in his new satnav nickname and true to form, took the wrong route just after the a cross section. By the time I caught them up, it was too late to turn around and we hatched out a new route. We had strayed into a well used training area of another club, Stopsley Striders. Sure enough, in the distance we saw a group running towards us which had the inevitable effect of causing our front runners to move from the ultra shuffle into long striding, fluid steps. Luckily, we rounded a corner not long after and the ultra shuffle soon came back in a few of them. This is a style of running you often see in very long distance runners and one certainly adopted by me and RJ. Feet hardly move off the ground, arms quite tight to the body and small, slower steps. Its a style that you wont see in training manuals and is one developed to conserve as much energy as possible. 

Regrouping at the closed pub

 A winding, rutted and frozen path lead into a village and we re-grouped. Satnav yet again started at the front and took the crew the exact opposite of where we were going. The lad has run this route many times and I watch in amazement waiting for a flicker of recognition, which didn't come. I corrected the direction with my usual understated bit of leg pulling and took us down a step path.

The Flying Scotsman and the Silver Surfer

Phil and ultrateer RJ in the background

The almost mythical Chris Jenart

 Unfortunately, that meant an even steeper and longer path back up the other side. I made the mistake of being in the front and had no option than to set the pace and run all the way to the top. A few of the others didn't make it, which gave me the chance to whip the camera out and take a few pics.

Chris and RJ

Claire and Niki

George and Martin

 Shortly after, we reached the separation point for the twelve milers and those doing longer, which was going to be somewhere between twelve and nineteen miles depending on how many new paths that we took. Katie settled on the short option which was very sensible and speed merchant Claire came with us. After last weeks end burst, I pointed out the error of her ways and the clubs unofficial motto, LSD. That's not a reference to drugs, but long, slow, distance. She did disclose that last weeks run was the furthest she had been and that her GP had told her not to run due to dodgy knee's, which she ignored. What a girl. In the mould of RJ, who says if it hurts, run more until it stops. Another bit of advice you wont find in the manuals.

Around 5 miles to go

 The next hour involved almost total cross country running with lots of undulations and some truly stunning views across the open plains of Bedfordshire at various trigg points. As we wound back to the start, we had to run the last mile on road. The flying Scotsman eased to the front and whispered those three little words I love to hear. Fancy a blast? With that, off we went like it was a 5K. Trouble is, his blast is a lot faster than mine and I was soon trailing, only to be caught by Martin Beare, who also eased passed me in the final furlong. And Claire? I had expected her to go past as well, but later found out she lives close to the finish and as we ran past her house, she stopped and went in. Some flack needed next week for that, me thinks.

Superb views on the left, climbing around Sharpenhoe Clappers

It was a balmy Oo C  as we finished, as George took off his shades that he had been wearing all morning. It appears coolness comes with speed. That's why I'm still in comfy cardy and slippers still, I guess?