Tom Roper's Running Training

Snow day run number two

The weather gods having answered the prayers and sacrifices of much of the nation for a snow day, it would have been impious and dishonourable not to mark the day with a run. By the time I was ready to go, half an hour before sunset, the only off-road trip possible would have been the one I ran yesterday and I don't like to repeat the same route on consecutive days.

So, though I ran on icy paved surfaces, rather than Sweder's heroic hills, my trip to Seaford front, as far as Bonningstedt Promenade and back, was fitting and enjoyable. The cliffs were lit by intense light, and the tide was high. There were few people around, so I could concentrate on where I was putting my feet, rather than the toddler, dog and granny dodging that usually characterise this route.

I wonder at the apparent collapse of an advanced civilisation, faced with some snow and ice. On the other hand, as long as the closure of my workplace continues to present unexpected running opportunities, perhaps it is not altogether a bad thing. And it can produce beauty such as I saw this afternoon, or in this satellite image from NASA.

Photo from NASA/GSFC, MODIS Rapid Response

A snowy run

Confined to Seaford by the inability of Southern railways to get me to work, I had a day working from home, and thus the opportunity to run, just before dusk. I like my snow like I like my women: crunchy and frozen on the top, but yielding to a firm tread. Today's was wetter than the ideal, but good nevertheless. I set out along Chyngton Way to the foot of the hill to South Barn. Progress was slow on the slippery pavements and the track up the hill, but then I reached the top and flat, untrod paths, edged with fields of chilly sheep. The snow fell lightly here, blown a little by the wind. Everything was grey, and I could not tell where sky ended and sea began. To the east I could only make out parts of the Seven Sisters. I could see icicles under some of the cliff's overhangs. Then there is the descent, the same descent that slows up the end of Seaford half-marathon. I took this very slowly. A little way inland tobogganers slid down the slopes.

Seaford Striders New Year's Day run

Just as New Year's Eve gave the pleasing meteorological coincidence of a full moon and clear sky, New Year's Day was bright and sunny, with little wind, ideal conditions for the Seaford Striders New Year's Day run. I jogged down to the Martello Tower for 11 am, to join roughly twenty runners of varying ages.

We ran from the Martello Tower to the sailing club, paused to regroup and then ran back. At the finish President Rob graciously poured us all a glass of champagne, a fine start to a new running year.

The races for the 2010 Sussex Grand Prix are now known, which will give some structure to my running year. My intention is to enter some of those Grand Prix events I haven't run before.

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2009

A year and a decade end, a decade in which I returned to running after nearly fifteen years abstinence. Strictly speaking, since the first decade of this era ran from 1 AD to 10 AD, a new decade doesn't start till the start of 2011, but I think I shall not win that argument.

Last Monday was the fifth anniversary of this blog, started when I thought I should keep a record of my training for the 2005 London marathon. My first-ever post described a typical run for that time, a 6.9 miler to Bishopstone and up Seaford Head

For the last run of the year, I went out with the Striders last night on a truncated version of the club's winter training route, an enjoyable and not too cold five miles or so. In 2009 I ran:

• The London marathon, my tenth, after which I said I'd hang up my marathon shoes
• Three half-marathons (Eastbourne, Hastings and Seaford)
• The Bewl 15 mile
• The Lewes Downland Ten Mile
• Two 10Ks (Hove Prom and Brighton)
• Some odd distances: the Alfriston 6K and the Christmas Pudding Dash

What of 2010? I haven't made my mind up yet. I'll do a spring half-marathon, probably Hastings. Beyond that, I'm not sure. The first run of the year will be at 11 am tomorrow, when I and other Striders will take our hangovers to the Martello Tower.

Seaford Bay

Needing a little more distance, I ran from home to Splash Point, then to Newhaven East pier, and back, the whole being 7.2 miles. The first section, the journey east, was hard work in a stiff, chilly wind, but I love the winter sunsets over the sea. The light lasts much longer than one would expect.

About the town with the Striders and up Seaford Head, solo

I have two runs to recount, a rare but welcome visit to Seaford Striders club night on Wednesday, and a solo three miles on Boxing Day.
The Striders were a little depleted, it being Christmas Eve Eve, but there were enough of us to form two groups. The fast group set off to run our winter route in reverse, while I joined the slow-coaches, who ran the route in its conventional, anti-clockwise direction. We met the fast runners in Hillside Avenue, at about the same time as we met Santa's sleigh, pulled through ice and snow by Seaford Rotary Club.
We pressed on, past the cemetry, up Barn Rise along North Way, and back by way of Kedale Road and Elm Grove.
On Boxing Day, to purge myself, I set off for the three mile Seaford head route. It was hard work, and windy at times. A light shower of sleet fell as I reached the highest point of the route. The ground was saturated and slippery, and I took an oblique route down Seaford Head at the end, in the interests of safety.

The Christmas Pudding Dash

For my last race of 2009, I chose to enter the Christmas Pudding Dash at Ashburnham Place. The organisers were send encouraging e-mails in the days beforehand, reassuring us that the ground was raceable and that the race was definitely on.

The race started at 10.30, so I could stay in bed until 7.30, and then get up for porridge, toast and honey. The journey there was glorious: the sun over the Cuckmere and the frozen hills above it; a few exciting driving moments on the road through Jevington; and the view from the Pevensey levels of the cupolas of the Herstmonceux telescopes, their domes shining as the cupolas of Russian churches must hundreds of miles to the east.

At the start, runners milled around, many dressed in Saturnalian costume. My favourite was a nun, though there was also a very convincing fairy. The course consisted of two laps round the grounds, and had been reversed, I understand in the interests of safety. After a children's race had been completed, off we went. After crossing the lake, we climbed a hill. I took a while to find my rhythm,. I have been reading about breathing techniques, and unwisely experimented with some at this stage. They didn't;t work and I found it hard to return to my normal breathing pattern. After the climb, we ran along the top of a wooded ridge for a while, before a descent and a brief run on a road, then returning to the house by the drive. For the da capo, we were sent out on a brief spur to add some distance. By now I had found my rhythm and fought a fierce duel with a fellow runner with a small dog, overtaking the pair on the second ascent of the hill. I am sorry to say they caught me on the way down.

The Garmin showed the route as 4.31 miles, rather than the advertised five.

Two winter runs

With a week to go till the Christmas Pudding Dash, I needed to get some miles in. But, only able to run on Saturday and Sunday, all I could manage was a three miler along the front and back through the town on Saturday afternoon. Sunday came with bright sunshine and blue sky, but by the time I had digested breakfast, dark clouds and a light drizzle had appeared.

I set off to run up Seaford Head to the barn, then down into the Cuckmere estuary and up again at Hope Gap. The most taxing feature of the run was the Cuckmere mud. On sections of the path beside the river I could only move forward at tortoise-like speed.

Fashion notes: for the first time this winter, I felt under- rather than over-dressed. I have a curious head-band that I only put on when it's very cold. It made me look more than usually ridiculous, but kept my ears warm.

Sunday's run was around 5.8 miles. The Garmin's battery gave up after the first half-mile.

The wrong trousers

 
I arrived at the Meridian Leisure Centre in Peacehaven to marshal for the Mince Pie Ten Mile in heavy rain. I will regret my failure to find my waterproof over-trousers, I thought to myself.

But, by the time I had carried goodie bags, bananas and mince pies in, and attached a considerable number of notices to the walls, the rain had finished and blue sky was coming from the west.

This curious course combines glorious stretches on the downs with some tedious running around the ugly back streets of Peacehaven. I was allocated a spot at around the two mile point, where the runners emerge from Lower Hoddern Farm. My duties were to stop traffic as the runners crossed. The drivers of the cars and buses were tolerant, with one notable and unpleasant exception. The leading runner, Robbie James of Lewes AC, came through at a cracking pace. 'He'll never keep that up,' said a spectator, but he did and was going just as strongly when he passed me at my second marshalling point, at around nine miles, to win in 59:22. The course was muddy and waterlogged, as the bespattered running kit they wore as they passed me on the way back testified.

Marshalling is a fascinating opportunity to observe the wide variation in running styles. I wonder if it is possible to construct a taxonomy of these, based on the variables of arm movement, foot placements, head up or head down, and so on?

The great @sweder was among the contestants, and tweeted as he went round, photographing the course at each mile, and has since written a race report on Running Commentary.

In the afternoon, though replete with a sailing club lunch, I felt I had to get out and emulate the Mince Pie runners. I went out on the Alfriston Road and over to Fiveways, then across to Bishopstone and back along the sea-front, nearly eight miles. The going was sometimes sticky, but by no means impossible.

A hiatus

I ran yesterday and today, for the first time for nearly two weeks. I ran on Friday night, on my return from work after an exceptionally taxing week, yet I found I had the energy for three miles round Seaford, and enjoyed it considerably. It was Christmas shopping night in the town, when all the shops stay open late and a Ferris wheel appears, a new addition to Christmas iconography, at least for me. But while the town was lit up with these vanities, the sea front was quiet, almost deserted and the clouds out to sea dark indigo.
Then today I went over Seaford Head towards dusk, in drizzle and a stiff wind. Both runs were around three miles. but I felt so much better for them. I look forward to Christmas: ten days of uninterrupted chances to run.