Sumara of Weymouth Blog

Liam and John all clean before the muddy race

The posh mansion we rented over Christmas. It even had a washing up machine!

The River Torridge was over its banks

23rd December 2012. For the Christmas period this year a group of 12 of us are staying in a mansion in Torquay. Selma managed to find the place and it is pretty swish with a billiard room, chandeliers and a sweeping staircase. To avoid the usual over indulgence is was decided that the Christmas break would be an active one with runs, walks and a “Military Fitness Style” session on Chrismas Day. We also booked ourselves into the Torrington Christmas Caper held on the Sunday before Christmas. I have been really looking forward to it because it has a reputation for being very hilly and very very muddy. Sadly I damaged my calf muscle doing a fast little run in Greenwich Park on the Friday morning and was worried about entering it. I decided to go ahead with loads of Ibroprufen gel and a compression bandage. I promised myself to run through discomfort but to stop at pain. There were 350 people at the start and it wasn’t raining, although it had rained heavily the day before. The River Torrige was in full flood.  There was a great local atmosphere with most people knowing each other and a lot of runners dressed as fairies. However even in fancy dress they did look like a serious bunch of runners with quite a few people wearing tee shirts from Ultra Races.  The start gun went at about 1111am and we seemed to run downhill for a long way. That obviously means having to run uphill a long way too. It is a bit disheartening running behind a fairy and not being able to overtake! It wasn’t long before the race began to live up to it’s reputation with fairies and Santa’s wading thigh deep through muddy flooded roads. I like these conditions and my left leg was holding up well so we continued and a moderate pace. The race is only 9.5 miles so the half way jelly babies and water came nice and early. My second jelly baby got splashed with mud but in it went in any case. The second half was more hilly and had a little sting in its tail. At a checkpoint about 8 miles in they directed us over a fence and down what I can only describe as a deep muddy gully with a mini torrent in the bottom.Then there was a pretty tough long climb over soft heavy ground. Bizzarely my bad leg was great but by now my good leg was playing up with exactly the same thing. I wasn’t sure if I could run through it but I reduced the pace a bit and carried on. It finally packed up as I crossed the finish line with John. Now I just hope it will recover quickly so I can enjoy the rest of the Christmas activities

I’m not sure what our time was because we forgot to look but around 1hr 35 minutes seems to be the nearest guess. Thanks to all the organisers and marshalls for making it such a fun race.

We ended up in the Black Horse Torrington for a well earned lunch. Little Anna (3 years) entertained the whole pub by confidently, calmly and clearly explaining that she wants a pink tortoise for Christmas. They wished her luck.

The actual result  was1hr 31min 26 seconds. There seemed to be 215 finishers so I doubt my 350 starter figure was correct.

The full results for the Torrington Christmas Caper are below:

http://files.pitchero.com/clubs/16415/TAACChristmasCaper2012RESULTS.pdf

The Start Line Looks Rather Sad 10 Minutes before Time!

The Sports Hall before the Race

4th November 2012
I had a quick look at the weather forecast on the day before the Sunday run and it said 6°C and 95% chance of heavy rain. And they were spot on! We drove through sodden roads to arrive in Marlow at 8.30. My sister who lives nearby came to wish us well. Actually the rain pretty much stopped as we started running but the roads were badly flooded. At one point we were literally knee deep in water and I am not exagerating. To begin with many runners were trying to keep their feet dry. I’ve learnt that this is a totally pointless exercise and decided to make use of the stream of water down the edge of the road to get clear of a jam of runners.
The route is all on tarmac so I wore my trainers but sadly Nike trainers aren’t designed for running underwater and soon the padding inside became bunched and lumpy. It made patches of the run pretty uncomfortable. The water was quite cold too and it was possibly this combination of fast hill running then cold water that caused Liam’s calf to cease up after about eight miles. This is home territory for Liam and he had been looking forward to the run for a long time. On a good day Liam can run the route in 1hr 35 minutes. It must have been a bitter blow when he realised that he couldn’t run through the pain and would have to retire. St Johns Ambulance looked after him and he got a lift back to base. I can’t understand how I missed him as I ran past but even stranger was that John said he overtook me a couple of times and I overtook him a couple of times too. The fact that I didn’t notice him at all was extraordinary as I was aware of many of the runners around especially those who got past me and there were a lot of them!
The route takes you through lovely undulating Thames countryside. It is more hilly than the Henley Half but none of the hills were real stingers, just a bit of a slog. It made it a slightly slower run than Henley and I think John and I completed it in around 1hr50 minutes with Grit a bit after. I will try to find the results and some better pictures when they are released.
Once we were all assembled back in the sports hall we were kindly invited to Liam and Sarah’s house for a massive lunch and a few beers. Heaven.

Update: Well I now realise why I can’t remember passing John, it was because he got in 7 seconds in front of me! My result was 1hr 53mins and 15 seconds which isn’t too brilliant but the course was really slow because of all the water. Here is a little video from Bucks Free Press from the winner.

http://www.bucksfreepress.co.uk/news/10025661.Video__Marlow_Half_Marathon_speaks_about_victory/

Here are the results:

http://www.chiptiming.co.uk/pdf/marlowhalf2012.pdf

and here is a great Youtube Video with some intersting shots of the flood at about 8minutes in and some interesting shots of certain people walking up the hill around 19 minutes in!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2bp6-SI3gA

John, Grit and Me before the Race

Grit with a Stag in the Flower Pot Inn

The wonderful Flower Pot Inn

The Start Line

Grit in the Clubhouse

When my body says NO I say YES

Liam before the Race

Sunday 14th October 2012
We scraped the ice off the windscreen and drove from Cholsey to Henley through a faint mist and a totally blinding sun. It had been a fairly wet week but it looked like it was going to be a great cool sunny morning for the run. Grit and I had been invited for dinner with the Halsalls on Saturday evening. We took the high risk option and accepted. Not that the food would ever be high risk, it is always amazing, but normally the main course gets served just after midnight and the alcohol can be, well lets just say, generous. Amazingly, we ate scumptious pasta at 8.30 pm (a personal best for John Halsall) and only had one beer! Honest! It was good to see Jack and Ella on top form.
There were about 1200 competitors in the races and we got parked just before the mad rush. It was well organised although the distinct lack of Ladies Loos caused a huge queue which must have been frustrating for some.
Grit, John, Liam and I found a position about midway in the crowd ready for the start. It was chipped timed so the fact that it took a minute or so to get over the start line didn’t matter too much. We looped around the Rugby Club grounds and then exited onto the road. The run was 90% on road which isn’t my favourite surface but it is a bit faster than running on trails. Grit was wearing Merrel barefoots and the rest of us wore trainers. We ran over the Henley Bridge then off onto a great little road heading towards the Flower Pot Inn. I was going for a negative split and only aiming to get within the 2 hour mark but it seemed quite fast and relatively easy. At the half way mark I guzzled half a gel ready for the 100m climb. I was well ahead of my planned time but felt OK and I prefer hills to flat.
About halfway up the hill I got one of my urges to go faster and started to sprint up past lots of runners but sadly I can’t sustain it for long enough and had to ease back I need to really practise more hills but because Greenwich Park has been closed this year it has spoilt my local hill training area. The hill was pretty easy and then there was a nice runnable downhill section for a few miles before getting onto the Fairmile for the last mile or so. I always like to sprint at the very end if possible but misjudged where the finish line was so I had to slow down a bit before the end. More speed practise needed! Liam had already romped in but I was pretty chuffed with my time of 1 hour 46 minutes and 35 seconds which was a personal best by a few seconds.

In fact we all did really well and we all came well inside the 2 hours we had set ourselves. We listened to the prize giving which was a strange affair because the lady announcing the prizes had to face backwards to speak into the microphone and most people just wandered off. It was a bit of a shame because I think all the volunteers really deserved a massive big clap for all their efforts. It was a great run. We celebrated at the Flower Inn, a favourite little pub near the river. Next is the Marlow Half Marathon on 4th November. It is meant to be hilly so it could be fun.

One of the Solent’s Forts

Jet Skis frolicking while the “Strong Wind Warnings” were being issued. Hardly a puff of wind.

The Lovely Brimble off Osbourne Bay

Brawns Restuarant in Cowes with Selma and Grit

The Hovercraft off Ryde

Log ? 6th-7th October 2012
The journey to Cowes from London is rather spoiled by the poor link between the train and the ferry. I get the impression that Southampton would rather you stayed in town instead of spending your money on the Isle of Wight. In theory there is a free bus link between the train and the boat but there is no timetable to be found anywhere and even the bus drivers can’t say if the service is still running. The local taxis milk it for all its worth. It is all a bit of a shame because it adds just that extra hassle which makes leaving the Good Ship at Cowes too much like hard work. Still the boat ride is always fun. The slow boat leaves you in East Cowes, handy for East Cowes Marina, but as it takes about an hour it is only worth it during the daylight when you can enjoy the views. The high speed ferry ends up in West Cowes but costs more, actually it is really expensive. As usual there are a highly complex series of secretive deals to be had. None of which you will find if you use the automatic ticket machines. So to sum up, I left work at 1815LT and got to the rather clinical “Lifeboat” pub by the marina at 1045LT. That is an average speed of 14 miles an hour, about cycling pace.

We had a busy schedule for Saturday. I said I would look over a 38ft Swan with a friend of mine in the morning so the Water Taxi came to pick me up at 10am. A fine Swan she was too with lots of loving care put into her. The only negative bit was the mast step which is so often the case on lots of yachts. I suppose water will inevitably gets down the mast and with a keel stepped mast it is in a rather enclosed area ripe for a bit of corrosion. All repairable I am sure. Otherwise lots of new gizmos and lovely new teak deck and a new engine. My friend is now thinking about buying it!
After seeing the yacht, Grit and I went for a run from Cowes to Newport and back along the cycle path. It is a nice shady run but a bit flat for my liking. The best bit is towards the end when you can divert along a nice dirty trial by the River Medina. Our speed was pretty apalling at 9.33 minutes per mile over 7.57 miles. That would be a very slow half marathon.
We just finished the run in time to spot Brimble on the AIS entering Cowes so we waited to greet them before going for a shower. The East Cowes Marina was packed with Challenger Boats so Brimble had to snuggle in behind them. There is a bit of tide that runs through the marina and one poor yacht really fouled up trying to get into a near impossible guest berth. I felt a bit sorry for them.
Once we were showered, Selma and John and Grit and I headed to the bright lights of Cowes City Centre. As we are doing the Henley Half Marathon next week, in theory we shouldn’t be tanking back the beers but somehow we got a bit carried away and had a fairly boozy night. We had a great tapas/pizza meal in Brawns. Grit and I ate there the week before and would recommend it. John told us of the MayDay they had heard that afternoon. It was text book perfect, very calm with all the details, there was a man overboard in Osbourne Bay. The coastguard couldn’t make contact with them and asked other boats to see if they could help. After a fair while of MayDay Silence etc a yacht called in to say they had seen a training yacht in Osbourne Bay practising Man Overboard! Oh Dear, he must have pushed in the transmit button! All a bit embarrasing.
In the morning Brimble and Sumara left together at 0800LT to catch the east going tide. The sun was out but there wasn’t much wind. However there was enough to move and we weren’t in a hurry. Brimble peeled off North to the Hamble after an hour and we carried on, having to use the motor from time to time. As we ghosted along we listened to the usual strong wind warnings coming from the Met Office. It was like a lovely summer day as we neared Chichester Beacon and headed up the channel over the bar. We eventually moored in a very tight spot on a very very short pontoon in Chichester Yacht Basin at about 1600. It might end up being my last sail of the year. The boat is being lifted on the 23rd November. Awe.

Race Number and Medal!

Grit and Me relax after the Race

Muddy Legs

In theory we were going sailing this weekend but a close study of the grib weather files was not encouraging. As I was still in a positioon to shunt my holiday by a week I decided it would be a good idea to let the deep depression pass and hope (naively maybe) for better weather the following week. That meant there was a weekend free. Something had to be done to fill it up. I thought a little run would be fun and a quick browse on Runners World website came up with -

THE DADDY BEAST!
£36 later Grit and I had signed up for a 14 mile trail race which needs little explanation. The Daddy Beast is the big nasty race which takes place as part of a series of races from The Scout Centre in Cranham. We, stupidly, did not realise that we could camp there and ended up camping about 15 miles away (in Folly Farm).

Next time we will definately camp at the Scout Centre which looked about perfect.
We arrived at 8.30 to book in because I had messed up the online booking as I normally do. The club racers were there with their matching singlets and logos. They looked pretty hardcore. I suppose there were only about thirty entrants so there wasn’t anywhere to hide. At the race breifing we were asked if we had any comments and a big clap of thunder roared above. We started, and the rain started too. What an amazing trail it was. Situated on the edge of the hilly Cotswolds we were running down muddy washed away paths, through corn fields, across meadows, in dark woods and just about every terrain you could imagine. There were steep and long 100m climbs and wonderful views. The trail was well marked, although it was still possible to run past a turning if you lost attention. Grit and I ran together at the back of the fleet but certainly not completely last. After three hours and about 16 minutes we finished to a lovely welcome with medals, goody bag and an ice cream. Highly enjoyable and I would love to do it again next year. Our time was pretty slow but it was longer than a half marathon, rumoured to be 14 miles looking down but a lot longer with the hills. A pretty tough race. I was happy with the result. No injuries.

The results have been released and we didn’t do too bad!

http://iamoutdoors.co.uk/events/cranhambeast/cranham-beast-2012-results/

Gordon Baird Greets us in Troon

Poor Sumara was about a day behind the rest of the fleet but we were determined to finish. We had heard that about 13 yachts had retired and three did not start so although we were definately going to be last at least we were going to finish! We had all booked tickets on the overnight sleeper back to London and some of the crew had to get back to work or other arrangements. It was going to be a very tight call. The sail across is about 13 miles (I think – this is from memory). We ghosted out of the northern channel from Lamlash. From the top of Goat Fell we saw ripples of wind on the water further out to sea, so we were hopefull of a fair sail. It was a slow start and the oars almost came out but eventually we caught a bit of wind and Sumara got under way. Now things were looking promising. We booked a cab to greet us at Troon to get us to the station. However soon I could see a smooth area near to the coast and sure enough when we were two miles off the wind died. A short blast of the motor would have got us there in time to catch the train but there was no way after all this effort that we were going to spoil things so out came the oars. We rowed in desperation to try to catch the train but soon we realised it wasn’t going to happen. We were only a mile off. The engine was a big temptation but instead we decided to call the cab firm and get a quote for Troon to London. Gulp! Oh well, it had to be. We rowed on and the harbour entrance loomed. It was dark now. We rowed towards the marina entrance and pumped up the dinghy. A large fishing boat swung around the corner and was surprised to see us. Grit and Rick rowed on ahead and ran to the Marina Office where a slightly bemused member of the staff was surprised to see us. He thought the race had finished yesterday. Not for Sumara!

It was a shame not to be able to celebrate as Sarah, Charlotte and Rick had to jump in the cab. Grit and I stayed behind to clear up the boat. The following day whilst walking down the pontoon we were enthusiastically greeted by Gordon Baird. Gordon gave us a heros welcome although we came last and Gordon came first! We had a lovely chat and coffee onboard his huge catarmaran called Obedient.  After sorting the boat Grit and I had a tasty meal in the Marina Restaurant and caught the train back to London. The big adventure was over.

We were the smallest boat in the race and we came last. However we did finish. There were 50 boats due to start the race. Three did not make it to the start start leaving 47 competitors but only 29 finished. Obedient came first in 40 hrs and 44 minutes 22 seconds. We took a little bit longer at 106 hrs 57 minutes. We didn’t bother about the seconds!

Rick has done a nice write up in his local mountaineering newletter. Here is the link.

http://www.shrewsburymc.com/pdf/newsletter/SMC_Newsletter_Jul_2012.pdf

Alasdair Grit and Rick on Goat Fell

Sumara was so late arriving at Lamlash on Arran that the organisers had to leave so they asked us to time ourselves in and out. It was a hot day and we were not going to be running in the dark but we stuck to the rules and ran with the full kit including extra thermals, torches and spare batteries. Grit, Rick and I were the runners this time. I was pretty tired after the week’s hectic activity and slowed the team down a bit. Grit was very perky. Rick described her as a metronome. The run in to Goat Fell is a long trek from Lamlash but the climb is very straight forward with a path to the top. On this sunny day it was crowded with tourists. We reached the summit and immediately turned to descend. Rick flew down in his usual style quickly followed by Grit. I was still taking these downhill runs cautiously to avoid stressing my recovering knee. The long run back to Lamlash exhausted me but for some strange reason, as usual, I sped up towards the end. I’m never sure why that happens. I don’t have the timings with me right now but I think it was around 6 hours. We rowed back to Sumara for the final sail to Troon.

Well it wasn’t as long as six hours! It was 5hours, 28 minutes and 13 seconds. The average speed of ascent was 500m/hr with a maximum of 890m/hr. The average speed of descent was 830m/hr with a max of 1830m/hr. The total ascent was 1224m and the highest point according to my £29.00 Decathlon watch was 878m.

Chart Plotter off Kintyre!

By now we knew we were the last boat to leave Jura for Arran. Barbara, who was one of the organisers had politely asked if we were still competing. “Of course we are” was Chatlottes reply. To get to Lamlash on Arran we would have to round the Mull of Kintyre – a notorious headland with fierce tides and overfalls. The wind was now coming from the south east and we couldn’t lay off the course. We eventually had to tack to avoid contravening the shipping lane regulations. Tim had told me how one year a yacht ended up nearer to Northern Ireland than Scotland. How I laughed, but guess what? The wind became very light and the tide turned and the good ship Sumara found herself nearer to Northern Ireland than Scotland! Of course eventually the tide would become fair and we were able to tack in towards Arran. Rick and I thought it best to grab a couple of hours sleep while Sarah, Grit and Charlotte took the last short watch into Lamlash. Sadly it wasn’t to be so easy. The wind turned and headed them and soon they were closer to Ailsa Craig than Arran. We ended up with everyone rowing as hard as they could. I tried pulling in the dinghy. It took a long old time but we finally picked up a buoy in Lamlash ready for the last run – up Goat Fell.

Alasdair and Rick on the Paps of Jura

Alasdair on the Paps of Jura

Having been sailing for 26 hours means you are not necessarily in tip top race condition at the start of the run but somehow the adrenalin kicks in and the energy comes from somewhere. Harris, from the nice yellow yacht in Dunstaffnage, had made us a specially decorated tub of nourishing energy giving food and kindly given it to us as a present before we left the marina. Even with Harris’ nosh I wasn’t sure quite how we would pull this one off. At least we were running in daylight. Rick and I cleared the thorough kit inspection and jogged off to the foothills of the Paps. With a combined age of 114 years we were probably the oldest team to run this section, but maybe not.

The cumulative ascent was to be 1740m. Our maximum speed of ascent was 1010m an hour and our maximum speed of descent was 1930m an hour. The Paps are quite steep sided and when you’ve got to the top you need to descend to climb another one and then do it all again. I was beginning to flake out on the second ascent but just managed to continue the top. After that it wasn’t so bad.

My fear of my knee playing up didn’t happen but I was trying to be kind to it on the downhill runs. It was good being with Rick, who was much faster and more experienced than me. I learnt a lot of little techniques and loved running down the scree slopes.
The scree is tough on the shoes. Mine held up fine (Salamon Speed Cross SCS) but Rick’s Inov Mudroc’s really took a bashing. About a third of the studs were torn off the sole and others were about to break loose. He will be taking them back as they were pretty new. I never liked my shoes when I bought them but now I think they are the bees knees.
After 6 hours and 51 minutes we arrived back at the check point, a little worn but not injured, and we were collected by Charlotte in the dinghy ready for the next section.

I confess that we had been a little worried on-board the ship as the runners had taken longer than we expected. We knew one runner from another team had to be air lifted off and we were much relieved when a text arrived from Charlotte saying they were on the road back. Once the tired but very cheery runners were safely onboard at 7am we heaved up the hefty anchor, got the sails filled and made way back down the Sound of Mull.
The big tidal gateway en route to Craighouse on Jura is the Sound of Luing. The organisers had conveniently chosen a weekend with a new moon so it was to be powerful spring tides (and no moonlight!). The tides can whizz through the sound at 7 or 8 knots so there was no chance if we missed the fair tide. Time was however ticking away and the wind was already slacking off. If we were to arrive too late then we would need to head to the Sound of Islay at the southern tip of the island – but that added miles.
We did eventually arrive at the Sound of Luing in time for the tide but the wind had now slackened of to a very light vesper. We needed to man the oars for although we were travelling at 8 knots we had no steerage and if we took too long the Corryvreckan would suck us in and spit us out the other side.
After a while a breeze returned and the female watch even had to change down sails only to find the wind died again and they had to change back up. Rick and I were snoozing below trying to catch some sleep before running the Paps of Jura.
After 26 long hours and 20 minutes we arrived at Jura at 0839.
Charlotte rowed Rick and me ashore. The dreaded Paps awaited!