On 13th January I did the Great Edinburgh Winter Run that took place in Holyrood Park. The first 1.5m of the race was a steep uphill as the course went up and around Arthur's Seat -  the toughest 5k I have ever done! Not all bad though as the views were amazing and of course the second half was a steep downhill.  Really pleased with 23:42 and 1st F 60-64.  It was also inspiring to watch the elite run the Great Edinburgh Cross Country in the afternoon - especially as they have since announced that funding is being withdrawn and this is the last year that Edinburgh will host both these events. A real shame.

The county XC champs aren’t the familiar “get covered in mud and then tell Facebook how you got covered in mud” event – this is a more serious fixture, with county medals at stake. However, the 30 Gazelles who braved the freezing sunshine in Thetford on Sunday 6 January still managed to smile their way around the course… oh, hang on… I think some of those contorted faces might actually have been grimaces. Thanks to Ian Edwards for capturing so much of the raw emotion of the herd. No really, Ian… thanks.

A heated (no… sorry, frozen) debate raged over spikes or trail shoes, shorts or tights, long sleeves or short… Most of the chaps went for shorts while the ladies chose tights (and hats, and fleeces, and electric blankets), although Jo Watkins and Maz Page braved the temperatures and got their legs out, and we’re still awaiting NASA confirmation that Ian Coxhead’s hat was in fact visible from space.

The start was alarmingly reminiscent of a Norwich Junior Schools XC fixture as we trudged around a playing field, the course marked out by molehills and flapping roadworks tape, everyone hoping they wouldn’t go flying over a lump of soil or a strip of plastic during the first two minutes. But then we entered the forest for the first of two (or three if you were a bloke… lucky you) laps through the fields and trees.

Conditions were pretty much perfect for a winter run: crisp and bright, without mud or ice underfoot. Mind you, there were potholes and tree-roots aplenty as the course weaved across the grass and along the tree-lined sections. The hills seemed relentless – especially on the repeat laps – and as we emerged from the trees to the sight of a huge hill stretching ahead of us, surely even the stomach of smiley Boss Gazelle Sam “I love cross country” Barwick sank a little.

Let’s be honest: it was tough: seemingly endless laps on tricky territory and plenty of ups and downs. But the race organisation was really good, the course excellently marshalled and all the hazards helpfully sprayed with fluorescent paint. And even though there was a LOT of “creative language” about everyone’s relative happiness while doing the actual running bit, it was definitely a brilliant Gazelles day out, topped off with the fantastic haul of medals we took home: team golds for the masters women (45+) and bronzes for the masters men (55+) as well as individual golds for Anne Ellen, John Moore and Steve Rolfe, silver for Audrey Batchelor and bronze for Theresa Dooley.

This was a very fortuitous turn of events.  I was too late when I attempted to enter the Marriott's Way 10k a few months earlier and was hence looking to fill an empty race weekend.  As luck would have it, an email arrived informing me that I had won a place in the inaugural Uniqlo 10k Olympic Park race on the 8th October - you had to sign up for the Strava challenge and run 40 miles in 2 weeks in September to enter the competition.

So not to turn down a free race, I set off at 6:45am on the Sunday morning arriving at the generous parking facilities within the Westfield shopping centre.  Chip and race number were quickly picked up and then I was directed to a table with hundreds of Uniqlo running tops of of all sizes and colours.  As I picked mine up I notice that pretty much everyone was changing their running tops to put on the Uniqlo tops - so I did the same.

It did feel a little strange looking around at everyone in the same type of tops.  Due to the random nature of the entries, no one really knew anyone else, but running people being running people, there were plenty of conversations going on discussing what the route might be, whether the sun was going to come out etc. etc.

After a brief but mad group warm up, we took our place at the start line - there was no segregation due to expected finish times and not really much opportunity to shuffle around, so you pretty much started where you happen to be.  After a short piece by a somewhat random live band, I heard the horn sound to start the race.

The route was basically three laps of a figure of eight around the main stadium and along two of the rivers - as you ran through the start gate 3 times, the chip timing actually recorded each lap time which was interesting.  Each lap was pretty flat but with several definite inclines, usually followed by a steep drop down, it was quite twisty in places too with 3 almost 90 degree turns.  This did pose an issue for the first few kms as the paths were actually quite narrow and people were finding their position for some time due to the random starting line up.  Still, towards the end of the first lap things settled down.  It was great to run around the Olympic Park though and I was impressed by how runner friendly the whole site has become.

I was hoping to beat my 10k pb which I'd set a few months earlier at Run Norwich, which I know is not a fast course.  I set out trying to maintain a 7:15min/mile pace and was slightly up on this after the first two laps.  The third lap was hard, my legs were definitely felling the pace now and I really had to push in the last mile, but did manage to come in almost a minute ahead of my pb with a time of 44:21 - I don't think I'll be beating that for a while!

Bag collection and goody bag received effortlessly and I (slowly) walked back to the car park and was home before lunchtime.  All in all, a good experience, well organised race (although next time they should order the start) and a great venue.

Whilst most of the herd were running in Banningham, five Gazelles made the brave decision to head  to the coast for the 2nd Nicholson’s Law Lowestoft Half Marathon. I did have my concerns as I drove east, as it became darker, wetter and the wind speed picked up. However it is a race worth considering.

The race starts at Ness Point and the first mile runs besides the sea wall, then you hit a “killer hill”, short but sharp. The course is a 2 lap “out and back” so you have the delight of the hill again around mile 6. There is a strange lap of a football pitch to do on both laps, too.  However a bonus is it is run on traffic free roads. 

It was great to get the encouragement of fellow Gazelles along the route as the faster ones passed me on the other side of the road as they started their 2nd laps, it’s certainly kept me going as the “drizzle” was now blowing into my face.

I was looking forward to the last mile as it would be down “killer hill” however the winds had built up by now and I had to work hard running into the head wind. It was at this point I was regretting the “mile efforts” with the Thursday night gang.

Congratulations to Joe Hawes who came 4th overall and thanks to Anne Ellen, Tim Cook and Mark Sexton (making his return in the Gazelles vest) for their encouragement on the course.

It’s not a PB course but one worth considering for next year - subject to the weather that is!

Given my flight back from a business trip to Toronto was not until Saturday afternoon and inspired by Lou Hurr's Canada parkrun adventure, I decided to seek out the closest park run to my hotel.  Luckily, given there are only 11 parkruns in Canada and Canada is not exactly a small country, the closest parkrun was only 30 miles away.  It was clearly meant to be, as the hotel had an Avis carhire desk on site and it turns out that 1 day's hire is cheaper than the taxi fare to the airport!!  So after a little google mapping, I jumped in the car on the Saturday morning and drove to Whitby.

Looking at past events, the fastest finisher times ranged from 18 to 23 mins, with attendances of around 20 runners (somewhat different from what I'm used to at Eaton!).  So I was in with a chance of securing a fastest finisher!  I arrived at the start line at 8:45 and people were very welcoming - it was an international field, with people from the UK, Hong Kong, US and Canada.  The route was an out and back setup and the Run Director basically said that you just need to keep left at every junction - I was a little nervous at this point as there didn't appear to be any signage and there was a chance that I would be in front with no one to follow.  

I needn't have worried, a quick 3-2-1 and we were off, it soon became apparent that I would not be the first finisher as a young looking lad wearing a Horsforth Harriers vest sped off into the distance, so I tucked in behind a tall pilot from Hong Kong and though about securing 2nd place!  The route was actually lovely, smooth wide paths, great views over Lake Ontario and pretty flat.  After 1km the pilot seemed to slow and I concentrated on keeping my target pace of 6:50min/miles - little did I know at this point I was actually in the lead.  At around 2km the guy 'in front' appeared from some bushes behind me complaining of having taken a wrong turn, I just needed him to make a couple more mistakes like this and I would be home and dry!!

The 2.5km mark was a chalk line on the pavement, at which point you turned around and retraced your steps back to the start/finish line.  It was great high-fiving the other 15 runners as we crossed, everyone clearly enjoying their morning run/walk.  I did manage to finish in 2nd place with a good time for me of 20:58.  Phil, the guy in the running vest, finished in 19:02 having run 5.5km!!  There was also serious celebration as Elaine and Sarah cracked 40mins for the first time having tried 5 times previously.

With such a small event, the volunteers had multiple jobs to do e.g. the race director also handed out the tokens and also scaned your barcode.  I was asked if I minded taking pictures of each finisher as they cross the line for their Facebook page.  Everyone stayed and clapped every single finisher and it really felt like a sociable event.

Certainly an experience I would repeat if I'm in Canada over a Saturday again.

A nearly perfect (or as good as I am going to get) training period meant The King was confident on breaking the 4.5 hour barrier at the Robin Hood Marathon 2017 on Sunday 25 September. He needed to knock off around 6 minutes from Dublin last year (where 4 pints of Guinness and half a bottle of red wine the day before had proved to be the best final preparation). This year, just one Guinness and two medium glasses of Valpolicella with the spicy meatball pasta at “Sexy Momma Loves Pasta” restaurant the night before.

There is no easily findable course altitude data on the marathon website – if there was, it would put off the majority of runners! One hill after another for the first hour or so. Not that Elvis minds the odd hill – but the number, together with the 20 degree heat, meant that a lot of energy was sapped early on. A quick wave to Ady around mile 5 (his mile 8) and a brief chat with Mimi around mile 11 buoyed The King who hit half way a minute under the desired time for a 4:30 time.

The hills gave way to pleasant parkland and a bit of off road, akin to Marriott’s Way. However, Running Elvis gets his energy from crowd support (as well as gels) and there was little from miles 13 to 20 (although very good marshals). Still, with 3 miles to go, straight 10s would get The King home sub 4:30.

Alas, those early mile exertions came home to roost and although there was no crumbling, the time aimed for was missed by just under 3 minutes. Cramp in both calves and under the right knee (a new one!) meant EP could not go any quicker (even if he had managed to muster further energy).

Still, another 3 minutes off the PB – maybe another bronze certificate if I’m lucky…….

The Baton

You might think that being handed from one sweaty palm to another and being joggled around in all weathers for twenty-four hours sounds unpleasant.  For me, it’s the highlight of my year.  Better than Christmas, or birthdays.  Imagine that!  The other 363 days, I sit in a box with my extended family – all sixty-one of us - waiting for September.  But when it’s the weekend of the Round Norfolk Relay, I come into my own.

Oh, you might think it’s about the runners.  The humans.  Them!  They strive and sweat and grunt and glance anxiously at their watches. All for me, of course.  Their fellow humans, the ones in jeans and jackets, who don’t run, stand around shouting at the running humans.  The running humans wear tiny tight bright clothes, so that they can run specially fast for me. The running humans grab at the water held out by the jeans-wearing humans; they gulp down sickly sticky sweet goo; they spit, and swear – and they keep running, on and on, carrying me.  It’s all for me.  I am their precious cargo. 

I like the first part of the journey – the humans call it “stages one-to-seven”.  I like to see the sea and the sun.  It’s my only chance in the whole year.  This time, there was rain, too – heavy rain – but the running humans put their heads down and kept going.  Nothing was going to stop them getting me to the next running human in the chain.  Even when the path was slippery-slidey with mud, or crunchy-feet-sinking-down-in-the-shingle, and the human’s breath came deeper and they turned redder and groaned at the beastly hill rising up ahead – even then, the running human kept on, and held me tightly.

The next few stages are pleasant, too, on the roads.  The bewildered faces of the Yarmouth humans as I glide past them during their Saturday night out.  Horsey Windpump; the smell of chips and coffee wafting from the jeans-wearing humans’ hands; the increasing dusky dark picking out the flash of the humans taking photographs of me.  I could smile as I pass, and wave, like a human celebrity - but there’s obviously no need.  My shiny glow alone is enough to impress.

The very best part is the middle of the night.  That is when I start to see my family again – my siblings from the box.  That is when we start to catch up with one another.  Each is held tightly by a running human.  The running humans form a long line along the road, stretching as far as the (human) eye can see.  Each running human places a light at its front; each is followed by a car, and each car has a flashing light.  Some running humans have bicycles beside them, with cycling humans, and more lights.  Sometimes my running human passes another, if he or she is particularly fast, and I whisper a secret baton-hello to my sibling as we glide by.

It pleases me to see my family, who have individually travelled all the way around Norfolk, being carried by so many running humans with such great ceremony, all lit up.  It befits us.  It is a truly wonderful sight.

When dawn breaks, the humans switch off the lights.  This year, there was mist, and more rain.  I could only just see the flat, pale fields, and the straight canals through the gloom.  The jeans-wearing humans looked tired, as I passed.  Some still couldn’t resist photographing me, of course - but most were huddled, wearing coats and hats, and yawning.  I suppose they couldn’t help it: humans are only mortal, and accustomed to sleeping when it is dark.  I appreciate them breaking their usual routine for me.

The finish, as always, was glorious.  All the humans – both the running humans and the jeans-wearing humans – were there to see me cross the line.  How they cheered for me!  I shone more brightly than ever – I positively sparkled, knowing how desperately those humans wanted me to arrive.

The strange thing is, as soon as I crossed the line (with the final running human), the running human put me down with my siblings, and simply walked away.  This happens every year.  It puzzles me very much.  I have been used to such reverence, for twenty-four hours; the humans put such effort into carrying me around Norfolk, and over the finish line – and then they just abandon me.  Where is the ceremony, the grandeur, after the race?  Where is my banquet – my after-party?  I am put in my dark box again, and there I stay, until next September.

It almost makes me wonder whether the whole thing – the whole Round Norfolk Relay - is about the runners, and not about me at all.  Could it be?

Breckland 10km is without doubt one of the friendliest local races – ideal conditions and a flattish course (apart from that long slow drag at the start, anyway...) on Monday 1 May meant we saw some amazing times from some of the herd.

Sam Thelwell flew around in 39m58s, his first sub-40 10km and a fantastic 17th overall. Steve Cook came home in 44m20s, followed closely by Steve Sadd in 44m25s and then Lee Oxbury in 47m01s. Huge cheers to boss Gazelle Sam Barwick, who – paced by Jason Brunt – finished in an outstanding 51m12s, annoyingly four seconds off her PB, though! Beth King (paced by Pete Thompson) ran 52m22s, and Imogen Lees was 20 seconds down the road in 52m42s. Nigel Bullen completed the picture in 57m03s.

So London had been a long time coming. When I was 11 I went to London to watch my Dad run it for the first time, never daring to dream that one day I'd be able to run it. I'd then started applying to enter when I was in my early 20's. Despite numerous entries into the ballot I was never successful. Then, in April 2016 I managed to record a good for age qualifying time: we were going to London!! I was building the weekend of the race up in my mind: recreating a family adventure of my childhood, eventually being able to race this iconic race, having a good rack at a sub 3 marathon and retracing Dads footsteps 30ish years on.

"13 degrees" they said, "There'll be a sea breeze" they said. 25/6 degrees in full sun, no breeze at all! But still 6 Gazelles made the journey to the Costa del Brighton for this, very picturesque, marathon. Lining up on Preston Park the race plan was scrapped as it became apparent that this would be a scorcher. The first third of the race loops around the city centre, which is fantastic for friends and family as they can see you many times. I'd forgotten how pretty the Brighton Pavilion is! 

"New York, London, Paris, Munich," as the song goes..... well, Brighton, Paris, Lowestoft, Norwich. It seemed Gazelles were everywhere over the weekend. The herd's biggest turnout was at the Norwich half, where 18 runners joined the throng of more than 2,000 starters at the Norfolk Showground - plus many others offering moral support around the course.

If Cambridge is the home of science, then we're all thrilled to have been part of the experiment about how many runners would still willingly take on 13.1 miles when the start line was so shiveringly cold and wet that we all wanted to secretly go home and eat toast.