A little hill running: Meon Valley Plod 2008

"When did you last run?"
"Ryde 10 a couple of weeks back"
I clearly hadn't understood the question. A short while later:
"When did you last train?"
"Yesterday"
"How far?"
"6 miles"
As we stood at the start, it occurred to me how that short bit of conversation defined the difference in attitude between us. To me this was just another training run, to her it was a race, a challenge, something to prepare for.

My only concern had been how many layers to wear. It had been -4C overnight at home and despite the sunshine it was barely above freezing now. There were some in just vest and shorts, but no way was I going to push even remotedly hard. This was a nice gentle training run.

Gentle?

This race is hard. Don't let the glorious countryside, or on this occasion the brilliant sunshine, fool you. There are some very steep hills, including Old Winchester Hill and Butser Hill, the highest on the South Downs, and some very difficult underfoot conditions. This year the going was good, unlike the previous years of mud, mud and more mud, but there were still some very difficult rutted paths to negotiate, and still a good smattering of mud to keep the mudpluggers happy.

Before the start the race director warned us not to complain if the 'nearly 20 miles' published in the race details turned out to be a bit further, or the mile markers were a few yards out. It turned out to be 21 miles!

We were under way and I was into my stride feeling good and running a good pace for my easy effort. A few up and downs and we hit our first steep hill at 3 miles and the field reduced to a slow walk. We then found ourselves queuing at a stile. I watched as the queue began to stretch down the hill. I must have waited nearly 5 minutes. This would be OK if it was the same for everyone but the tail-enders turned left, over a fence and carried on up the hill in the next field. I figured they'd get caught out as they'd have to negotiate the barbed wire back into our field, but at the top the 2 fields merged and they were able to cut a big corner as the 2 halves of the field merged on the top of the downs. Now I know this was just a training run, and I was determinedly not racing, but it narked me a bit to be overtaken by Nick, no disrespect, whom I must have been several minutes ahead of by then. I had a bit of a moan to Marilyn too as I passed her along with all the other tail-enders. Just for good measure I had a whinge at our supporters - thanks Gina for letting me vent. Ah well, it's just a training run.

On we plodded and eventually arrived at East Meon church, where the mud 2 years ago had been impossibly slippery. This year was possibly worse! The ground was firm but we were left with firm ruts with a thin coat of mud on top which made it very difficult to run. The ruts were regularly spaced across the path, at a spacing just too short to maintain a comfortable stride. If only they'd been spaced a little further apart I might have got a rhythm going. In the end, I succumbed and fell flat on my face. Fortunately it was a soft landing - nothing damaged, just my pride.

The ground was still frozen in places but it was becoming quite a warm day, which soon baked the mud onto me. The drink station was a welcome sight, as I bumped into my friend from the start line. I'm sure I'd been ahead of her before the stile! I was determined not to ask which route she took. This is not a race, it's a training run!

I had my first of 5 chunks of very nice fruit cake. I think the race has sponsorship from a cake company. Good move! Definitely a race for cake lovers! It was also nice to have slices of orange at the aid station. Good organisation.

I was running with my friend for most of the second half but determined not to race. We then got to Butser Hill and the huge climb and I started to pull away from her. Aha! (I'm not racing. I'm not racing)

At the top of Butser we met our supporters Graham and Gina again (did I see Kevin too?) and I heard them shout something about Malcolm. Maybe I was catching him? I stopped at the next aid station for a relaxed orange, water, cake number 3, to be caught by my friend and then passed by Malcolm as he rushed past with his game face on. No time to consider the rum on offer at the aid station (yes, rum!). Must get a move on! No wait, this is a training run.

I had another relaxed stop at the final, unofficial, aid station, but could see Malcolm in the distance as my friend, whom I wasn't racing, pushed on. I caught her, passed her, and eventually caught and passed Malcolm, whom I also was not racing. Malcolm caught me again as I strolled up the last hill and with a mile to go he was just ahead of me.

My recent long training runs have been rather uncomfortable, partly due to the after effects of the damage to my psoas and abdominals, the original injury that stopped me running for 4 months, and also partly due to very tight adductors which seem to have been struggling with the increased mileage. After 20 miles today though I felt in remarkably good shape. I'd only had a small amount of tightness in my lower abs and my adductors felt OK. It was with immense relief that as we passed the mile to go sign I felt full of running. I pushed the pace up a bit and overtook the 3 women I could see up ahead. By the finish I'd opened up a gap of 2 minutes on Malcolm. Good job I wasn't racing him!

The 21 miles took me 3:44:09. If I'd been running the same heart rate on flat tarmac I'd have covered 28 miles. That's one hell of a training run!

This is a fantastic race. It's well organised by Pompey Joggers. The scenery is stunning, but boy it's hard.

Let's hope we can get back to the mud bath next year!