“I think Phimi and one or two others have entered it” Mark Saez told me as we were hurtling along Leaburn Road for the second time last Sunday afternoon.
“Well in that case!”
The seed of challenge had been planted. My appetite whetted, the last mile of our 14 miler was our quickest, nothing do with me desperate to get my hands on my Mac and to the Entry Central sign up page.
Entry done and dusted before Mark had finished his post run cup of tea back at mine, next up, Saturday morning out of bed bright and early, no fuss breakfast, harriers vest dug out, (first since the men’s health 10k in June I think!) in the car and rolling down the expressway to Hamilton.
Arriving nice and early and parked across the road at the Ice Rink, I jogged over to the registration hall, pick your number up on the day affair. A well set up scene with runners lists on the wall directing you to the relevant desk to collect your number, I was in and out in less than 5 minutes.
I should mention that at this point it was 9am and already the temperature was getting in to the high teens, clearly this was going to be warm work out!
As time went on the throngs of our local running community assembled. I met Davie Searil, Mark and Lucy and closely followed by Stephen, Frances P (who had also thrown her hat in the ring and was taking the challenge on) and Emma, along to cheer us on. Then we bumped in to big John McBride and Kevan Harvey and one or two others. The local clubs were well represented; Cambuslang, Motherwell, EKAC, Strathaven, Airdrie and of course Hamilton, be criminal if they hadn’t turned up!
A good two mile warm up for me, with some quick hill climbs, the beating of my heart race ready, we took our places in the starting grid. This being a bit of a community event there was the obligatory mass aerobics thingy and the never stuck for words woman on the mike talking just about everything - fancy dress, the weather, water stations, first aid, the route, bright t-shirts, nice dugs at the starting area, cute babies, the weather, mare dugs……………blah blah blah. Too much Americano I’d wager!
The aerobics wummin (Kay would have been proud of her!) was so revelling in her gig that she actually ran on a bit too long and the start was delayed by a couple of minutes. But once everyone had slotted in to the pen the air horn hollered and off we went down the hill for an extremely rapid start. A familiar but unseen voice from the crowd shouted us on our way, Frances had come along with her niece to cheer us.
So, as we went down the hill from the pedestrian precinct we turned right on to the dual carriageway which had been closed to traffic and along towards the retail park entrance opposite Asda. For a special treat, the organisers had chucked in a wee bit of XC as we ran down the steep banking and over the freshly cut (but not raked up – does my heid in, lazy beggars!) grass and on to the path leading towards the palace grounds football parks.
At this stage of the race the field was still quite tightly compacted and with the paths being narrow with some 90-degree tight turns to negotiate, care had to be taken not to end up your bahooky! Right, left, left, right, right and we were at the end of the palace grounds and heading for the tunnel under the M74 and over the River Clyde bridge and in to Strathclyde Park. From there the route essentially followed the same course of the Parkrun with a wee bit chopped off at the turn on the far side. Then back along the other side towards the bridge, palace grounds, the XC section, the dual carriageway and the climb to the finish – but it wasn’t quite as simple as that – keep reading, I’ll tell you in a minute!
As expected Mark took off like a bullet from Dirty Harry’s Magnum although that said, me and Stephen weren’t slouching either. He shouted out the time through the first K and although I had no idea what he said such was the tone of his voice, it sounded like we were going pretty fast.
Looking at the splits, my first mile was 6.18 with a fastest speed of equivalent to 6.02 m/m so yes, we were shuffling along.
So, just running off of Stephens shoulder he was setting the pace and I was content to let him since he has had a far more successful season than me but before the race he mentioned that late on in the week he had come down with a cold and wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Nonetheless, keep the ambitions in check and measure the form as the race progresses – I ordered myself.
Out on to Strathclyde Park and at about 2 miles, I felt that I had a wee bit more to give so risked stepping ahead by a couple of strides. Managing to maintain the fragile pace, we headed towards the half way point, shaky cup of water, invariably that goes up my nose, tight turn and on the way back – YASS. Except, you’ll remember from my previous musings on this blog that I always feel the run in to the end of the Parkrun there goes on forever. Relentless, knackered, another harrier vest 5 yards behind me. Look at the tarmac, keep it going, keep it going. Splits going south, the pace is slipping, footsteps behind me and their long shadows ahead of me, this is going to be tough.
Holding on, we get to the end of the path where it splits on to the road or along the path to the water sports centre. The guy in front of me goes along the road, so do I, no marshal to tell us otherwise. Across the bridge which involves a wee climb just when you could see it far enough and off the other side and a welcome steep downhill before the tunnel.
In to the Palace grounds and this where it all went pear shaped.
We ran along the way we had come and made a sharp left turn, I’m still following the Motherwell AC guy 15 yards ahead of me. The Marshalls, it seemed had all gone for lunch, or tea, or home!
So, you all know how it is at 8.5k, bloody awful, head in the zone, concentrating on holding out to the finish, my performance about to blow up, happy to be told where to go, follow vileda!
Except where we were to go left we didn’t and went straight on towards the XC grass banking strewn with freshly cut grass! The watch said 5.5 miles, something no right here! Running out of course, going to be short. Never mind keep the head down and get to the end – no doubt the shouting’ll start later.
So onwards, up on to the road, along past Asda and the final turn up the hill to the finish line – Frances shouting encouragement from the crowd.
I crossed it in 39.14, my best since Grangemouth in 2015 although my speed of 6.40m/m average meant that I had only ran 5.89 miles. It transpired that Mark who had finished in 37.38 had also gone the wrong way, Stephen was following me so he was short too and from talking to a few finishers at the end, there were tales of this route and that, some had completed the 10k, some a wee bit short, and others (like me) who had chopped a big slice off.
The moaning has already began on social media – apparently there were a few other issues with the event over and above the route confusion but all in all another great chance to get out racing with some clubmates and on such a beautiful day for a run!
So, the scores as we crossed the line;
Anybody know Robert Haig, I don’t, but he was registered as a Calderglen Harrier and completed in 36.39
Mark Saez
37.58
28/ 428
7 M40
Martin Howell
39.14
43/ 428
9 M50
Stephen Phimister
39.29
47/ 428
11 M50
Robert Gibson 47.54
138/ 428
David Searil
52.52
221/ 428
11 M60
John McBride
53.45
232/ 428
40 M50
Frances Phimister
57.28
281/ 428
25 F40
Lucy Saez
59.32
300/ 428
75th SF
The overall winner on the day was ex Harrier Kevan Harvey in a brilliant time of 31.56 with the first lady and also taking 1st F40, Karen Kennedy from PH Racing in a time of 36.58.
So, once the shouting had died down and we posed for the obligatory post run snaps we headed off to a lovely café for some well-earned refreshments.
Thanks to Frances M and Emma for the cheers at the finishing line and for the photo’s attached below.
Martin H.
