Cheddar O - not so cheesy peasy - Wednesday 28 May

My name's Rich, I'm learning to be an orienteer, and this week I went out of bounds . .

There, it's out in the open, and I'm starting to feel better already. Last week at Westbury-on-Trym I'd had a good run around the course and had been devastated to learn that I'd missed one of the last controls. So this week I couldn't wait to get going, and to finish the course properly, with every control found and all in the correct order.

So what was I thinking of? I set off toward the first control, but for some inexplicable reason, turned right instead of left and headed south on the road to Wells. It was so stupid! I know that part of Cheddar and have no idea what was going on in my head. Of course at the time, I was convinced I was in the right place, looking for that first control.

Eventually I decided I had to go back to the start and try again. I didn't actually get that far but got to the junction where I'd gone wrong, and the scales fell from my eyes and I found the control. Unfortunately it had taken me almost 15 minutes. 24 hours later I took another look at the map, wanting to figure out where I'd gone wrong and only then did I realise that the bridge I'd crossed was out of bounds.

What a great start! I'd wanted to make amends for missing a control and ended up taking a right instead of a left. I was still beating myself up about this when I went straight past the side road that would lead to the second control. More minutes added to my time, and then, once I'd found that one, the inquest in my head was still raging when I decided that the 3rd control was in a churchyard, when of course it was in the side road alongside it. More wasted time on the clock.

Even I couldn't miss the 4th control, and fortunately there was a reasonably long stretch to the number 5 and this gave me time to pull myself together. I knew I'd been guilty of careless map reading and navigation and I wasn't going to get anywhere carrying on like that.

Number 5 made me smile. It was in a garden (so needless to say, I didn't find it immediately as I hadn't realised this was a possibility). But the sign in the garden that read "Orienteers welcome" was a nice touch and helped take my mind off my poor performance up to then.

The rest of the course wasn't so tricky, because I was reading the map properly, and I was concentrating on what I was doing, as I should have from the first step. There was a bunch of 8 or so controls around the school where we'd started and would finish. They were a bit close together on the map and I had to do some ducking and diving to find some of them but that's more to do with failing eyesight than not reading the map very well and perhaps I need one of those fancy magnifying glasses to stick on my thumb?

Conclusion? I was so disappointed with my start, and the time I took to get round, but pleased to have sorted myself out and rebuilt some confidence on the way. I can and will do better, and I can't wait for the next event, to prove it. And, no doubt, to make other new mistakes, and probably repeat some older ones!

I know I'm not the first to make these mistakes, nor will I be the last, and I expect I'll make them again, just hopefully not all at once. I don't intend to blog about every event by the way, that would be another mistake, I just needed to get this one off my chest.

Lark and Learn . .

It's been a while since I described my first encounter with Larking with Brains on, known to many as Orienteering . .

Since then I've spent too many hours on the motorway and far too few hours running, but I have managed to take part in some more orienteering events, and slowly, I think I'm learning a few things about this new - to me that is - sport. In particular, I've learnt that I wish I'd discovered it years ago!

My second event was down by the big tv mast at Priddy, just north of Wells, where many of us fought our way through a hail storm, it was freezing cold and I discovered that when it's really windy my eyes water and I can't read the map. Which made a couple of my route selections rather exotic. Despite this, I found the controls, and made my way round the course, and loved the sense of achievement I felt as a consequence.

Next, I found an event at Houghton Wood in East Yorkshire whilst I visited family in York. There was much to learn here. I moved up from Orange to Light Green, and was horrified to be handed a list of control descriptions at the start that showed symbols, rather than the written descriptions I'd followed at my two previous events. I recognised a tree, and a bridge, but the remainder was going to be guesswork. And that hasn't changed in the 2 months that have passed since then.

Written control descriptions were suddenly replaced by symbols . . I wasn't expecting that!

Here I learnt that I needed gaiters because despite wearing leggings, my shins were ripped to shreds, and my trail shoe laces came undone 3 times during the event, despite my habit of threading them through themselves. So I needed to get some of those snappy, elasticated laces that never come undone. And, apparently, I needed to get pink ones!

snazzy new posh pink laces . .

Finally at Houghton Wood, I found out the hard way that when I realise a younger runner is way off beam and headed in completely the wrong direction, I don't have a duty of care to remain with them. This was the hardest lesson of all, because it just went against my better nature, but in future, kids, you're on your own! (And why you should look to me for help will always be a mystery!).

my very own dibber . . although I really must loosen that elastic . .

Since then I've invested in my own dibber (aka SI Card) and joined Bristol Orienteering Klub. And in the summer, Wednesday night is O night! I've taken taken part in the first 3 of BOK's 10 evening Urban and Park Sprint events. The first was at Rodway and Emersons Green. I felt at home in the first portion, as it was on the Pomphrey Hill parkrun course, which I'd been to 3 times earlier in the year, and I was running close to two friends. So it didn't seem like orienteering at first, it was just a run with my mates. But I soon realised that they were getting on with it, and they weren't talking to me, or waiting for me, and of course I was on my own.

As usual I made one or two unorthodox (with hindsight) route selections, but I found the controls in the correct order and once again, thoroughly enjoyed it, in particular my first experience of urban orienteering. But I realised that I needed to pay more attention to my choice of route, and the following week, at Nailsea, I think I succeeded in doing that, although inevitably there was one pesky control that evaded me for a while before I pounced on it.

Then last week, at the Westbury-on-Trym event, I learnt a particularly tough lesson. I found out what it feels like to finish, and to be told that I'd missed a control. It's an awful, gut-wrenching kick in the stomach feeling. I couldn't believe it! I'd had no idea that I'd missed one. There had been a couple of dodgy ones, but I'd found them after a little while, and although I remembered being confused at one particular point I really didn't appreciate that I'd completely missed a control. 5 evenings later and I'm still kicking myself and can't wait for the next event so that I can make amends. And I'm told that this won't be the last time I miss a control. That's probably correct, but we'll see!

My Happy Birthday Race . . the Bristol 10k . . Sunday 11 May 2014

So who wants to be 60? Certainly not me, that's for sure, although I hope I'll be in a position to change my mind in 2 or 3 years' time. But as we know, time waits for no-one, and it wasn't going to make an exception for me, so I had to get on with it. I can't remember when I learnt that the Bristol 10k was going to be on my birthday but when I did, I realised that this gave me something to do on "my" day, alongside the other 10,000+ runners, of course.

Initially I had a Grand Design to finish in 59.59. I hadn't done very well in May 2013, finishing in 68.23, but then in October I'd completed the Wistow 10k, in East Yorkshire, in 61.48, on a very wet and windy day. So it seemed reasonable to imagine that if I was able to get a decent run of training under my belt I could get under the hour. Unfortunately life got in the way and I've probably spent more time driving up and down the motorway to York and back this year than I've been able to spend running.

As race day - and my birthday - approached I recognised that I had a choice. I could try to race as hard as my lack of fitness allowed and see if I could get round (relatively) quickly, but whilst I'm happy to dare to dream, the dreaming needs to be tinged with some realism. I knew that if I tried to go for it, the race would very likely end in tears as I simply wasn't in any sort of shape to really give it a go.

The alternative was to float around at a sensible, sustainable pace, maybe stop and chat to any friends I saw on the way around, and carry a small camera and take some photos to remind me of my birthday. In short, I could just go out and enjoy myself. I decided to take the latter course, and having been encouraged by parkrun friends to make sure everyone knew it was my birthday, draped myself in a "60 today" banner.

I can't imagine that anyone has ever been wished Happy Birthday more times than I was on my way around the 10k. So many complete strangers in the crowd and amongst the runners noticed my banner and called out. My shoulders were sore from all the slaps on my back. And of course my friends, those in the crowd, those marshaling and those running - all looking out for me (I suspect I was hard to miss!) and so many of them wished me well despite being focused on their own races.

Then, glossing over the interminable queue for kit bags, and the fact that they ran out of medals and t-shirts (I was lucky enough to get there before that happened) . . the fun and laughter in the Berkley afterwards that just never seemed to stop.

Throughout the day I received heaps of messages and good wishes from so many people. I wrote about daring to dream, and I'd dreamt of having a birthday I'd never forget, and that's what I got. It couldn't have happened without all my friends - both here in Bristol and further afield - who made sure I enjoyed this big day. Thank you, everyone of you - I'm a very fortunate fellow indeed. And perhaps being 60 isn't quite so bad after all?

Larking with brains on

You may know that at this stage of my running career I often have to contend with extreme breathlessness whilst running, which I can only counter by walking for a while to get my breath back. As someone who never used to have any breathing issues, I find this extremely difficult to cope with as inevitably it means my times are slower than I'd care for them to be, and so my performances are poorer.

One of my friends at parkrun suggested that I could use the time when I'm walking to look around and plan my route. My immediate reaction was that I didn't need to do that because I just followed the runner in front, and anyway, at parkrun I already knew where I was going.

But then I realised that Caroline was talking about orienteering. I've known about orienteering for years and years. I'm sure I read an article by Chris Brasher describing this Scandinavian sport when I was a teenager, probably in the Sunday Times or Observer, that made me think it sounded interesting. But at the time I was a fairly poor soccer player and certainly not a runner, and so the notion of orienteering was filed away in the dimmest reaches of my brain.

I started running in my 30s and in time became a runner who enjoyed all sorts of distances on all sorts of surfaces, but never had an opportunity to go orienteering. I was aware of the sport, as a sort of parallel running universe. But still I didn't look for an opportunity to take part.

So when Caroline suggested I try orienteering it struck a chord as being something I wanted to try, and I realised that my reluctantly acknowledged lack of speed wasn't necessarily a hindrance and might even be an advantage. A bonus was that I've always loved maps, although I've never considered myself very good at reading them and deciphering all the information they're filled with.

Having decided that I wanted to try this out I was unsure about actually going ahead and doing so. I didn't want to make a fool of myself. Fortunately, Caroline suggested a local event that would be ideal for beginners, and even offered to run with me and shadow me.

Usually on a Saturday morning I take part in a parkrun but yesterday I went to Pomphrey Hill parkrun to take photographs there, before heading to Stoke Park Estate to go orienteering! Stoke Park Estate used to be called Purdown . . it's that wide open space alongside the M32 out of Bristol that's overlooked by a big building that's the colour of the inside of a Crunchie bar!

Armed with a dibber lent to me by Caroline I registered for the event and was given a list of the checkpoints (controls) I would have to find, in the order I needed to find them. We went off to the start and waited in line in a grid marked on the floor. There were different courses available, each with varying degrees of difficulty and on shorter or longer courses: Yellow (easy), Orange (moderate), Light Green (harder) and Green (hard) and I'd been advised to try out Orange, which meant I would be looking for 10 controls over 3k of running.

At this point I still hadn't seen a map, and as there was one by my feet in the grid I picked it up and began to inspect it. Immediately (well, almost!) I realised the map was unmarked. My mentor explained that this was just for reference, it wasn't mine to use during the event and I would have to put it back! Apparently "my" map was waiting for me just beyond the start. I was quite anxious by now and learning that I didn't get to see a map until after I'd started didn't help. I'm the type who likes to plan ahead. Preferably a few weeks ahead!

Soon I was at the front of the line, watching the event clock tick around and when the buzzer buzzed, I dibbed my borrowed dibber and picked up my map. I was underway. I remembered that the first thing I needed to do was look for the triangle on the map as that showed me where I was, and having located that, I found the first control and decided which direction I needed to run in. Having had all this confirmed by Caroline, we set off along the path between the trees, and in less than 2 minutes I'd found my first control! What a thrill that was!!

The first few controls were in the woods, and the paths were just a sea of mud. This was larking, but better than that it was larking with a map and compass in my hand. As we moved from one control to the next, I got lucky each time and found the controls straight away, whilst my shadow assured me I was getting it right, offered advice when I needed it and suggested that actually she was redundant.

Caroline's theory was right. There were times when I became breathless and needed to walk, when I was able to look around, get my bearings and not only assure myself that I was headed the right way but also work out where I needed to aim for beyond the next control. Inevitably I went wrong at one stage. Despite two other orienteers heading off to the north of a pond, I set off to the south of it. There was no guarantee that we were on the same Orange course but by this stage it was likely. I was convinced I was right, but Caroline asked if she could look at the map. It turned out I'd mistaken a horse trough for a pond (what?), the other two runners were right and I was wrong. No change there!

And after just over 30 minutes it was all over. What fun! To add to the excitement, when I checked back in at registration and un-dibbed my dibber, I was given a print out showing my times at the different controls, and at that time I was 3rd out of 15 finishers. 3rd? That was astonishing and only surpassed by the fact that later on, when the results were published, I was still 3rd, out of 23. Blimey!! Mind you, I was 12 minutes behind the 12 year old boy who had won, and of the only two runners in my age group who took part, I was 2nd!

I hope I've given the impression that I enjoyed this experience. Finding those controls was a real thrill, each time. It's always good to run of course, and this was a great and mixed venue. And I loved seeing all the other orienteers dashing off in all sorts of different directions, either through the woods or across the wide open spaces, each on their own mission. Everyone was friendly, there was cake, and the sun shone. And I did it!

There's an event near Wells on Sunday. I'm sure the Mendips are lovely at this time of year!

Finally, thanks to Bristol Orienteering Klub and the University of Bristol Orienteering Club for staging the event, and to Caroline and other friends for encouraging me to explore this new path.

Oh my . . now that's what I call a parkrun!

Fountains Abbey in North Yorkshire . . one of those places you just have to visit. At least, I'm sure that's what my parents told me when they dragged me round the grounds of this enormous ruin, sometime in the 60s (here's a photo of us at nearby Rievaulx Abbey in 1963).

It's probably also what I told my 11 year old daughter in the summer of 2000, when I dragged her round with me. Ness had found the caves at Stump Cross much more interesting, but I had some fun. By the time I visited Fountains Abbey in 2000, I'd been running for several years, but I didn't have the vision to see the potential for a run with my friends that was right there before me.

Fast forward to 2013 and the National Trust, which was already hosting several parkruns in England and Wales, got together with the local parkrun community in North Yorkshire to plan a parkrun in the Abbey grounds. And on Saturday 1st March 2014, after a lot of hard work by everyone involved I'm sure, 375 runners turned up from all points of the compass, to take part in the first ever Fountains Abbey parkrun.

thanks to Megan for this and the two photos below

In the final few days preceding the big day there had been worries that there might be fog, or ice, which might prolong our journeys or even postpone the event. But of course the parkrun weather window was in position in plenty of time, and there was neither fog nor ice. Nor was there rain or wind, and for much of the morning the sun shone down on the valley of the River Skell.

Because there were so many of us all arriving at approximately the same time it took a while for the final few to park, and with the start being a 10 minute walk away, it was decided to delay the parkrun by 15 minutes. So if you're planning to visit Fountains Abbey parkrun, please bear in mind that it's no good rocking up at 5 to 9!

The 15 minute delay was great though, because it allowed us to spend more time gazing around in awe at our surroundings, to warm up for a little longer, to find familiar faces amongst the many parkrunners, and take more photographs, as many of us were.

thanks to Megan for this and the two photos above

Fountains Abbey parkrun consists of two laps, one shorter one around the Abbey complex, and a longer one that takes us around the Georgian Water Garden, at the furthest end of which we cross a narrow bridge, upon which we had been urged before the run, not to stop, and we didn't! The footpath is a good smooth surface, and although there are no hills, there are one or two lumps to overcome. The volunteers were great, really encouraging and friendly (although my friends at Ashton Court will be disappointed that I didn't stop to hug any of them).

thanks to Sarah for this photo - one of the many great photos she took of this parkrun

All parkruns are special. I've taken part in several, at a few different locations, and I know that they all have their own unique characteristics. But once Fountains Abbey parkrun was underway, it was immediately obvious that it is more than special, and always will be.

It's easy for me, running closer to the back of the pack than the front, to say so, but this is a run to savour, to hold your head up and look around and take it all in. I've no doubt that the first person to run 100 parkruns at Fountains Abbey will have noticed something new every time. There is simply so much to see. Not just the Abbey itself, which must have been a huge building 500 years ago, when it was still in use. How did our ancestors build these huge buildings? How did they get the stone down into the valley, and who had the imagination, the vision and the courage to design and build such a building? Takes your breath away just thinking about it.

thanks to Sarah for this photo - another of the many great photos she took of this parkrun

And beyond the Abbey itself, the swans sailing unhurriedly across the lake. The line of runners snaking along the footpath up ahead, their many coloured clothing reflected below them in the Lake. The beautiful trees, the spring flowers. And the people from the National Trust joining in with the other supporters and cheering us on. And after this magnificent parkrun, what a great coffee shop to round it all off.

I can't wait to get back there at Easter!

Thanks to all the volunteers and everyone else who make Fountains Abbey parkrun happen. In case you hadn't heard, Fountains Abbey was founded in 1132 and was in use by the Cistercians until 1539 when Henry VIII suppressed the monasteries. It's a Grade 1 listed building, which is owned by the National Trust and together with Studley Royal Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It's the only one of those with a parkrun. I've put some links over there on the right, if you'd like to learn more . .

A larkless start to the year . .

There's been very little larking going on since my last report, it must be time to start planning some more . .

In the meantime, I've managed to take part in 6 different parkruns, twice at my home run Ashton Court, and once at each of Hull, Little Stoke, Sewerby, Chipping Sodbury and Fountains Abbey. The latter two occasions were inaugural events, and I'll write about the last one later.

There was some mud at each of them, but nothing really  worth larking in. Sewerby tried hardest, as the weather was quite atrocious with needles in the rain and a slippery surface, but it still wasn't a lark, more's the pity.

 

I did go along to Long Ashton on 23 February, a Sunday, to watch and support friends taking part in Nailsea Running Club's Ironwood Challenge. This is about 10k, starts and finishes in the village, and slips and slides over hills and trails in between.

Inevitably I took my camera along and despite the rain and cold managed to get some reasonable photos. I haven't got them on my website yet but you'll find them on my flickr pages. I'm certain there's a link somewhere . .

a double dose of Bristol parkrun on New Year's Day, followed by a swift chaser at Hull 3 days later . .

Little Stoke parkrun 60 and Ashton Court parkrun 135 New Year's Day, Hull parkrun 200, 4 January 2014

The New Year began pretty much as it seems to have continued for the past week . . wet, wild and windy . . and cold . . a complete contrast to the final day of last year.

New Year's Day is the one day of the year when, if you're fortunate enough to live close to more than one parkrun, you might be able to run two in a day. Here in Bristol, for the first time ever, we were amongst those fortunate folk, as there was a Little Stoke parkrun at 9am, and one at Ashton Court at 10.30, with an easy 20ish minute drive between the two (despite which, Rich Cranswick and Ian Shepherd just kept on running, from the first finish to the second start line).

Little Stoke parkrun gets the New Year off to a great start . .

And so, in really vile weather, 143 of us took part in the 60th Little Stoke parkrun. We couldn't have done it without the wonderful volunteers, who as always ensured that yet another parkrun took place without a hitch. I found the run hard work . . despite the course being flat I struggled with my breathing yet again and was slower than I wanted to be. I spent a lot of the run wondering if I'd be able to cope with a second 5k, up and down Ashton Court's big hill. My cameras were in the car, in case I decided that one parkrun was enough and wanted to take the soft option and record the morning's second run. But I'd been looking forward to running two parkruns for the first time for so long and I wasn't going to pass up on the opportunity . . and besides, it really wasn't good photography weather.

how would we ever manage without our wonderful volunteers?

Geoff sets a new pb for a quick pre-parkrun briefing . .

Having completed one parkrun in a disappointing time . . but nevertheless having loved that warm parkrun feeling, I made my way over to Ashton Court where the weather hadn't got any better. There were 152 of us who listened to Geoff rattle through his pre-run briefing quicker than ever before, in the rain and wind and cold. 77 of us had run at Little Stoke, so we were already soaked to the skin. I can't praise the volunteers enough, they were simply amazing, enabling us to run in such awful conditions.

the start of the second leg of Bristol's first parkrun double . .

The run started and once again, I soon became breathless. The field seemed to spread out quite quickly, and as I crossed the golf course near the top of our parkrun, with the leading runners already charging down the hill, I looked around and it seemed to me to be as bleak a running experience as I could recall. I've been running for almost 30 years, in all sorts of weather, in all sorts of places. One of the worst occasions was the Taunton Marathon in 1998, where we ran all 26.2 miles in heavy driving rain, it just never let up and completing the race was a triumph over the weather as much as the distance.

the Taunton Marathon 1998 . . quite possibly the wettest event yet . . until today . .

I reckon that this 5k parkrun was as bleak and as testing a run as any I've ever done. I made it to the turn around point, wished Dave Engledew who was marshalling there a Happy New Year, turned round and just as I had the previous Saturday, whizzed down the hill to the finish almost as fast as I've ever done. Still a bit slow, mind you.

So that was two parkruns in one day. Hard work for everyone in any conditions but especially on the first day of 2014. Looking back though, extremely rewarding,

3 days later, on a regular parkrunday, and I was at my birth town parkrun, at East Park in Hull. I've run there 16 times before, but had somehow not visited at all during 2013, and it was good to be back, despite having brought the wind, the cold and the rain along with me.

It was a special occasion too, being the 200th Hull parkrun, Di's 150th parkrun, and the morning when, for the first time, one of Hull's under 14 parkrunners took part in their 100th event. Congratulations to all!

Much to my surprise I ran well this day. I set off faster than I'd intended, I managed to keep my breathing in order, and not only did I not slow down very much but I ran the final kilometre in the same time as the first. And finished in under 30 minutes for the first time in a long while. Almost a week later, and I still can't quite believe that I managed to run as I did. One thing perturbed me though . . the large number of male runners with their legs wrapped up warm. I of course wore shorts. I realise that it's no longer Grim, but are they getting soft up north?

Finally, after a brief warm down, it seemed that most of the 285 parkrunners found their way to the cafe, for a hot drink, plenty of cake, and much laughter and amusing conversation. I'm looking forward to returning in a couple of parkrundays' time . .

where there's a parkrun there are smiling faces . .