The Crowborough 10k has a certain reputation. Usually the last event of the Sussex Grand Prix, and taking place in early December in the highest town above sea level in the whole of Sussex, it can be cold. Indeed, in 2010 the race had to be cancelled because of snow and ice, and an attempt to rerun it a couple of weeks later also failed thanks to General Winter.
Last Sunday it was chilly, and I was grateful for a base-layer and a long-sleeved top under my club vest. Looking round the race head-quarters before the start, I marvelled at the number of runners, men and women, who refused anything more than a vest on their upper body. Nor were these Spartans the fast runners who would get round a 10k before the cold could begin to bite, for even at the back of the pack, runners recording similar times to mine were also minimally clad. Our club captain urged us outside before the start, recommending some cold air in the lungs and on the limbs before the start. I have no idea if there's any evidence for this approach, but you don't argue with the captain, so I joined the huddle at the start. What sort of time was I aiming for, asked a fellow Strider. I replied that I just hoped to be back before the light went.
The race is a two lap triangle, with a descent and an ascent. At the start of the hill there's a ford and in some years runners are given a choice of fording the stream or taking a bridge to the side. This year the marshals guided us gently to the bridge. The uphill was harder than I remembered. After a 57 minute Brighton 10k, I was unsure whether I could stay under an hour here on this tougher course. In the event, I was two and a half minutes over the hour.
The marshals were superb, encouraging us all, even the slowcoaches in my section. My particular favourites were those with a bag of jelly babies half-way up the hill, and two young women about half a mile from the finish who had equipped themselves with a list of entrants and were able to address us by our names.
I finished in 1:02:33, 347 out of 386 finishers.
Yesterday I went back to the orthopaedic surgeon to review the results of an MRI scan of my knee, injured back in July in Glasgow. He sees no major damage, is disinclined to operate and advised me to start increasing my training to see what happens. So, with this in mind, I today entered the Three Forts as my spring marathon. At 27.2 miles, this is in fact an ultra-marathon and represents my first race beyond the conventional 26.2 distance. David Cameron may be nervous of crossing Rubicons. I have no such fear. Training starts on 14 January. Alea iacta est!
