BMAF Cross Country Relays 2013

There is a report of this race, by one of our eloquent supporters, Pete Budd, which you can find at http://www.salfordharriers.co.uk/Race-Reports.htm This blog is my personal interpretation of what occurred on 23 November 2013.

This weekend I joined in the fun on one of Salford Harriers away days. Organiser, Dave Lockett, had a bus full of old men and a bucket full of beer for the annual trip to Derby. With the bus unfortunately not coming via Northwich, Rob and myself, along with cheerleader Carole, made our own way there, as did some of the supporters, who not having to run, enjoyed a bit of a lie in. This was the 2^nd consecutive year the BMAF cross country relays were held at Moorways Stadium, Derby. Last year Salford did well taking medals in all four of the men’s events (see report http://rogalsop.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/salford-silvers-take-gold.html), this year we were missing some runners and some of those present were lacking fitness, but there was nothing wrong with our passion, we weren’t intending to just make up the numbers.

A couple of months ago I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to run in these championships, having suffered adverse effects during my attempts to race in the September relays. On my racing return, just three weeks ago, I had such a shocker that I was lucky to be considered for the B team. A good run last week saw me promoted to the M45 A team, but it was a close run thing. Having not been selected I was determined to get out there and run a blinder, to show I could still run well, but once I was back in the A team I was more nervous about my run, I was the slowest man in the team and I didn’t want to let them down. Still I knew what I would have to do if we were to have any chance of competing with the strong Leicester boys, and I was looking forward to being competitive. As the day approached my body was starting to feel pretty strong and my confidence was rising.

Rob, Carole and I arrived, in plenty of time, to find the rest of the Salford boys already chilling in the winter sun. Then it was a case of getting our numbers sorted and surveying the course. Last year the course had been dry and fast, this year it still looked relatively dry, though there were some sticky patches, and, with no wind, it looked like being another fast event. The distance was marked as 3.1k, same as last year, though it did look like there was a little extra bit added on before the last uphill, but I’m no expert on course measurement and it is irrelevant how long it is as it’s the same length for everyone.

The ladies and M65s were off first and it provided us with a close finish and an excellent time in the W35 event, for W45 Clare Elms. This year Salford didn’t have an M65 team. Then it was our turn, on the basis of last year’s times I figured I had about 20 minutes after the start of the race until it was my run, I was on 3^rd leg. So after watching the guys crest the first hill I started to get ready. Our M45 leader, and day trip tour guide, Dave Lockett, had made a bold start near the front of the pack. We needed him to get as close to Gordon Lee, one of the UK’s M45 best and Leicester man, as possible, but initially Dave was ahead. In fact it looked like Gordon was struggling for pace, until he emerged from the woods ahead of our Dave. James Kovacs was also hanging onto Dave’s shorts and our B team runners were showing us what they were made of. At the end of the leg Mansfield Harriers (M35) were clearly in the lead after a storming leg by Mark Johnson, Tipton (M35) were lying 2^nd with Lincoln Wellington (M45) in 3^rd place, just three seconds ahead of Gordon Lee’s Leicester. Our Dave had done us proud, his 10:41 saw him well positioned amongst the M35s, but crucially we were only 10 seconds down on Leicester, occupying 3^rd place in the M45s. James was a further 17 seconds adrift but keeping Salford in the medal hunt with 5^th M35 team. Our M35 B team was well up too with M45 Paul Birkett showing that he’s improving week on week, his 11:14 being a solid target for other members of the team and the M45 boys to aim at. Sean Cordell was in the mix for an incomplete M45 B team, running 12:56. In the M55 race Ilkley Harriers were first to show, but Phil Quibell kept Salford in the hunt with 12:18.

With our top M35 and M45 teams so close together it was going to be another good race between the two teams on leg two, let alone all the other teams trying to stop us from winning medals. For the M35s it was Billy McCartney, up against M45 (and last year’s M35 gold medallist) Ian Jackson. The guys slugged it out over the 3.1k but at the end there was still the same gap, as both guys ran 11:18. The M45’s were still ahead of the M35s but, more importantly, we were still 3^rd in the M45 race, Lincoln Wellington’s man had run the same time as Jacko so they were now our nearest rival in 2^nd place, the gap to Leicester had opened up, as they took the lead, their 10 second lead from the 1^st leg had increased to 36 seconds as they front loaded their squad. Our M35 B team was also showing highly in the mix as newcomer, John Dance, ran a great leg, 10:51, showing what an asset he will be to Salford. The M45 B team threw in the Towell, both during and after this leg, Bob Towell being our final runner and showing that he still has it with a 17:00 clocking. With many of the M55s away or injured it was Tom Daniels who was called into the team and kept them going with 15:41.

So as I stepped onto the start line for my leg I had a few things to ponder, Leicester’s man looked familiar, so I convinced myself he was their weak link, this would give me added impetus to my chase knowing that as much as I was about to suffer, he would be suffering more. I was the leading Salford man, maybe not by far, or for long, but I had Salford’s reputation on my shoulders. Matt Shaw was representing the M35s and not only is he a damned good runner but he carries 13 years less aging process and beer about his person, it was a foregone conclusion that the M35s would not be behind the M45s at the end of the 3^rd leg, but perhaps I might benefit from a bit of a tow as he passed me.

I went off hard, as was needed when you have a 30 second deficit to the leaders, but even so I was surprised when Matt overtook me whilst we were still going round the track. My hope for a tow in the Lotus / Mercedes ilk was dashed as it became more like a Red Bull / Marussia type tow. Still I was going plenty hard enough, I actually started accumulating lactic by the time I hit the mud patch and my lungs were working in overtime already. I imagine I’d gone off too fast for my fitness level but it was only an 11 minute run, surely I could put the pain to the back of my mind and concentrate on overtaking runners. It took me until I hit the woods, about half way round the lap, before I caught the Lincoln Wellington runner. I sensed he tried to hang onto me for a while, which was a bit distressing as I fought for breath whilst navigating the twists and turns of the woods, but I eventually pulled clear.

Back out of the woods and up the sharp hill into the stadium area, my favourite bit. This is where the Salford boys are most vocal and it really helps me. I forgot about the pain I was in and focussed on getting my legs to turn over quickly again. Leicester were a small dot on the horizon but I wasn’t about to give in, I had no idea what their next two men were like but we had Derek Crewe and Rob Tudor to follow, I had to give them every chance. I pushed through to start my 2^nd lap, legs were screaming at me to stop, my lungs felt like they were about to explode out of my chest, but this is where a strategically placed Carole comes in handy. If you don’t look like you’re trying as you run past Carole you get an earful and I didn’t fancy a night in the spare bed, so I forced myself to keep pushing, then through the Salford boys again, not the place to slow down either. Feeling it on the hill and then a slight slow down and wide line around the corner of the downhill as I was worried I was too tired to control myself through the mud. Back into the woods it was about 3 more minutes of pain, keep pushing. Up the hill again into the Salford boys and once again the noise was incredible, I went for the finish from this point and gave everything I had left, as I passed the line it was the first time I’d felt like I was going to throw up after a race, ever. Everything hurt, but mostly my pride as I realised I hadn’t made any inroads into Leicester’s lead (in fact I had gained 4 seconds). Then I turned around to see an M45 runner had come in just behind me and that was another shock (until I found out it was Brecon’s Austin Davies who had run, not only the M45 best, but the day’s best time of 9:58), I hadn’t been aware of his presence at all during the race.

Running hard up the final hill 

Where did Salford stand now. Matt had brought the M35s into 1^st place, the M45s were now 2^nd in their race and the M35 b team and the M55 teams were still battling, Mark Seed had run 12:25 and Mike Wakefield 12:23.

Coming into a team late is never easy and it’s a particularly hard task when you’d turned up expecting to be in a B team only to find yourself in the lead with a mass of teams hunting you down. But that’s the nature of an event like this, it doesn’t matter if you’re fastest or slowest as long as you put in the same amount of effort. Phil West was the unenviable runner in question and he gave it everything he had. Two teams, Bourneville and Tipton, came past but Phil tried so hard to keep us in touch with them and ahead of the others, his 11:37 stacking up well against his opponents. In the M45s Leicester pulled further ahead as Derek Crewe couldn’t quite match Gareth Deacon’s pace, but he’d stretched the gap to Brecon a further 11 seconds. A good leg also by Charles Foster in the M35 b team, he’d expected to be working but when that fell through he could think of nothing better than a day trip to Derby. This was the final leg for the M55s and we had England international Stan Owen. The team was well back when Stan started but that didn’t stop him running the 4^th fastest M55 time of the day. In doing so he pulled the team up to 10^th position.

The final leg for the M35 and M45 teams and it was still to play for. Dean Parker, of Bourneville, ran a good leg from the front, ensuring that they stayed ahead to take victory. Our Mike Grace ran brilliantly to snatch silver for Salford from Tipton. The M35 b team finished 12^th with Albert Castille fighting against some very competitive middle order men and earning a good 12:04 for his efforts. Rob Tudor, my mate and Cheshire gurning champion 1981-2012, was left in an awkward position, 50 seconds behind Leicester but only 13 ahead of Brecon. Should he chase hard and risk losing silver or should he concentrate on keeping silver by holding something in reserve. In the end Rob decided to go for it and threw in a fast first lap but having Leicester nowhere in sight with only 5 minutes to go must’ve been galling, still Rob kept the pace up, no telling if Brecon had another Austin Davies up their sleeve, whilst, no doubt, holding something in reserve should he need a sprint finish. His reward, team Silver, 2^nd fastest in the team and 7^th fastest M45 of the day, he’d done just the job we wanted, making up time on Leicester whilst only giving away 1 second to Brecon.

It was job done, two silvers for Salford, not as good as last year’s one gold and three silvers, but still a successful trip.

And then onto the presentation. The moment where Dave earns his reputation of Salford Tour Guide of the year by presenting the team with a bucket of beer. The medal presentation was drawn out, but beer is a great comforter in times like these. For myself I feel I must apologise to my Salford team mates, I’m usually pretty chirpy after races, particularly if I feel I and/or the team have done well, but on this occasion I was a shadow of my dancing on the table self, the race, albeit a short one, had taken every ounce of energy out of me, I had nothing left to give and sat slumped in a corner dazed and confused. I had about as much conversation in me as a trappist monk and spent the majority of the presentation staring at the bottom of an empty beer tin, wondering when somebody would notice I needed to be fed another one. But I managed to make it up to collect my medal, which is my only complaint about the day, the guys all ran pretty hard and deserve some recognition for their efforts, I believe it is fitting that each should get their medal and a handshake presented to them by whoever is the official on duty but today all the team’s medals were handed to the first person up.

Anyway enough complaining, I don’t really think we should complain too much about people who give up their time for these events (unless they add 11 seconds to your leg time), once again it was a brilliant day out on a good course with good facilities.

At the end of all that how do I feel about my run? I ran out of my socks, it was a far superior run than anything I’ve done this year and possibly one of the best runs I’ve done for many years, all the more special because I’m still not back to full fitness. People talk about eyeballs out and giving 110%, well that’s about how I felt during my run (though I have a problem understanding how you can give more than 100% I will accept it’s use in the context of this blog). In the end I was joint 8^th fastest M45 and I came away with another national medal, can’t say much fairer than that.

I may be smiling but if it wasn't for Jacko and Dave I'd be slumped on the floor

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Photos courtesy of Sid 

Old Rog, More Like the Old Rog

Last week’s race in Stockport was one I’d rather have forgotten as soon as it was over, but of course that doesn’t happen, the results are out there for everybody to see. So instead I’ll embrace the fact that I sometimes have bad runs, after all it makes the good times more special. Of course mid-week that result got even worse as I was demoted to 72^nd position, as three runners appeared Mr. Benn like ahead of me in the final results.

It was always my intention to race again the following Saturday, and the fact that I’d had a bad run wasn’t going to reflect on that decision. My body felt weary from the race but I felt I had something to prove, if not to anybody else then at least to myself, my training had been going well so surely I was better than the results indicated. I had a decision to make, did I ease off my training to ensure I was fresh for the race or did I continue my hard training regime focusing on getting fit for future championships. It was an easy decision to make, nothing was going to make a dramatic improvement in one week but the hard work put in now would pay dividends later in the season. So I put myself through a tough week of training, made even tougher by the gale force winds on Thursday.

Saturday approached and it was a nice dry day, a bit chilly but it is November. I managed to persuade Carole to come with me, I won’t take her along if I think the course isn’t spectator friendly but it does make that little bit of a difference having somebody there rooting for you. We arrived at the course in plenty of time, I picked up my number and went for a walk around the course, with Carole. I used to run a lap before and after the race but these days it’s hard enough racing 6 miles I can’t be bothered to add an extra 4 miles to the total, I’m not a mileage junkie, and at least this way I could spend time with Carole, she was going to have to spend long enough on her own while I raced. The course was mainly firm going, with small pockets of mud, much more to my liking than last week.

As we got back towards the start the ladies were already on their way, only three from Salford but they were running prominently and took first team. Compared to last week it was a low key turn out for the men, only four of us, more supporters than runners. Not enough for a team, it takes six, and we didn’t think we had enough for a Masters team, we thought it was four to score and although we all qualify as Masters, nationally, in this league it’s M40+ and Billy’s a mere youngster. As it turned out we only needed three so we did finish a team, coming second in that category.

After a team pic, courtesy of Sid Sacks, we were off. Normally Billy’s a fast starter so I expected to see him ahead of me, along with Paul, who’s running so confidently at the moment. But I was surprised to find myself leading the Salford Harriers. Last year I briefly led the whole race but no chance of that today, running with dented confidence and the presence of Dave Norman in the field, I was back somewhere around 20^th position. All I was interested in was having a better race than last week, finishing closer to Paul (he was 51 seconds ahead of me last week) and finishing 2^nd Salford.

I put in a solid first lap, but even so I was surprised I was still the leading Salford runner, at the turnaround point, as you start the next lap, I had a quick look across the field and saw Paul not far behind, only a matter of time before he caught me, I was already starting to feel I little tired. Billy was a little further back, I hoped that was a big enough gap for me. My mindset was now fixed on retaining my position as Salford leader to the end of the second lap and I ran the lap as though it was my last, with the exception of my storming finish (I’m not that daft).

I managed it but as I started the third, and final, lap Paul had closed right up on me to within 5 seconds. Billy had fallen back further so it was all about Paul and me. Clearly Paul was going to beat me, I was feeling really tired and he looked fresh and determined, still I decided that the longer I could hold him off the closer I could finish behind him. I pushed down the hill for a breathing space and even ran confidently through the muddy patch. Then we hit the open field and the wind was hitting me hard. I pushed through it but I was really beginning to feel tired now. Onto the next field and I pushed hard, trying to hold off the inevitable. Further and further into the lap and still Paul hadn’t come past me. I was getting close to the end and pushing as hard as I thought I could. Then it was onto the tricky bit through the wood, I could hear somebody catching me but I thought it was probably the young runner I’d passed earlier. As we hit the mud I heard a voice and looked around to see Paul on my shoulder. I had position so took the best line, whilst being fair and leaving space for Paul to come around me, if he wanted to. It was a tricky place and I did accelerate so we emerged from the woods still in the positions we’d entered and now we didn’t have far to go to the end, two straights and a hill to the finish. I pushed and got a little gap, I pushed again and hitting the hill I put in my final effort at the start of the hill. It was a long hill but I could sense I was going to hold off Paul, with relief and thinking we didn’t have a team I allowed a Leigh Harrier to sprint past me at the end, only to find out later that had cost me 1^st M45 position. Numpty.

I was really tired afterwards, I felt quite weak on the way home, but I was much happier with my performance and I’m heading in the right direction. Plus that’s two cross country races on consecutive weekends and not a trace of a problem where my injuries had been. It was good to see my old fighting spirit showing itself and now I’ve remembered what it’s like to fight for position I’m hoping it will help me next time out.

The Four Salfordeers - Paul, me, Billy and Albert (or Andrew as known in some circles)

Running confidently through the woods

The following day I’d arranged to meet my mate Rob Tudor for a long run. I wasn’t sure if I’d be up to it but no harm in trying. We had a good run around Northwich and the woodlands, I was surprisingly springy for the first 5 miles, but I was tiring towards the end. Another week now and back to the hard work.

Written by Roger Alsop (with thanks to Sid Sacks for the pictures) 

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Rog’s Racing Return

22 September, the date of my last race. I wouldn’t call it a disaster but it was a pretty disappointing display. I couldn’t run at 100% effort because I was in pain, not the good pain that you get from knowing you’re giving everything but the bad pain from the ongoing injury and then the worry that you’re only making it worse. So poor run in the bag I called it a day, as far as racing was concerned.

I was clearly able to run, without too much discomfort, but I couldn’t run flat out, so I decided it was time to tick over and concentrate my efforts on helping my running clients and try to enjoy running rather than flogging the old body.

Following the success of the bioresonance treatment I was keen to see how my body would hold up to racing, but my early attempts were thwarted. I managed to find excuses not to race; taking Carole to the airport, picking Carole up from the airport, taking my mum out for a birthday lunch, but really I was just a bit nervous about over-committing myself so close after recovering from what has been my longest ever sustained period of injury. So I missed the 1^st Manchester Area Cross Country League fixture, I ignored the urge to do a parkrun and I threw away the opportunity to run a fast 5k on the Wirral.

But I had a plan, I was already booked on a trip to Spain, my usual pre championship tune up venue, booked when I thought I’d be back to my best by now, so I’d train hard over there and race the day after I returned, in the 2^nd Manchester Area Cross Country League fixture.

Training went well in Spain, good quality runs interspersed with long runs around the hilly interior, with some relaxing long walks along the beaches of the Costa Calida.

Sunday 10 November, Woodbank Park, the venue of my last cross country race, 9 months to the day previously. Although a little nervous, having completely knackered my achilles on that previous occasion, I was keen to put that behind me and show what I was capable of. I arrived in good time, despite all attempts by my sat nav to send me all over the place, and it was a lovely day with the sun shining. But beneath that wonderful sunshine my nemesis lurked, a waterlogged and muddy cross country course. Oh well, can’t have everything my own way and at least I’d finish better than my last visit, 53^rd, when I could hardly run at all.

At the start line I was surrounded by my Salford team mates, a good turnout for the club and this helped me to feel positive about the race. Then the gun went and I was immediately swamped by a mass of runners. No problem it was a wide enough start and I was sure I’d pick my way through the field. And then the next 40 minutes just seemed to meld into a blur of mud and I finished the race in my lowest ever Manchester League position, 69^th.

In trying to understand what went wrong I have no clear answer but lots of theories.

1.       It was muddy, I’ve never been a class cross country runner but constant mud just doesn’t suit my style of running. True I’ve won cross country championships and was even 2^nd in the British Masters Champs, but all achieved on firm courses.

2.       I’ve missed a lot of training throughout the year and whilst I’ve managed to run reasonably well over the occasional 5k a 10k is a different pair of training shoes, and if you’re lacking fitness cross country will find you out more than a road race.

3.       I’m lacking race practice.

4.       I train on my own or with clients that aren’t as fast as me, perhaps that has made my understanding of how hard I am training a little unreliable.

5.       I’m old and want a beer in front of a log fire while watching the TV, bring me my pipe and slippers.

Whatever the reason I know it’s only a matter of consistent training over time and getting back into the racing mode that will bring me on again to challenge my peers. I don’t give up that easy, the pint can wait. Two positives I can take from last Sunday’s race are; that I ran hard up the hill and, despite my hamstring throbbing on the 3^rd lap, I suffered no post race adverse reaction. I’m now awaiting my next cross country race with relish.

Incidentally Salford won the Men’s and the Men’s Masters races, my contribution was not needed in either team.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk