Bit Of An Understatement

L is annoyed. Well that’s a bit of an understatement.

Her weekend, during which she was taking part in two of the swims in Lake Windermere, one of the mile swims on Saturday and the one-off two mile on the Sunday, has been cancelled. Well, actually officially postponed, which is not much good when you wake up on the Friday of a four day break you’ve booked time off for, for the specific purpose of doing those events.

Apparently the organisers are looking at a potential new 2010 date but I can’t see that happening. The algae isn’t going to clear overnight and we’re heading towards winter now.

Where were their contingency plans? Could they have done the swim in another part of the lake or perhaps in another of the lakes?

So what to do… Personally I would like to hit the Lakes anyway, there’s decent beer to be drunk up there and great scenery to do it in but my girl needs to be placated with something more substantial... and that something may be an event t-shirt. Hmmm. I’m less fussy, I just need to be placated with something dark, strong and beer like.

I switch the computer on and draw up a short list of races in nice places off the Runners World website, ones that will take entries on the day. After a brief debate and several strong coffees, Caernarfon comes a close second, because there’s no t-shirt, to something called Alice’s Run, a 10k near Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire, which does. I feel a weekend based in Malham would be just the ticket. It’s a place I’ve wanted to revisit since we went there a few years ago. Comparing our combined memory banks we actually work out that our visit there was as far back as 2002... How time flies.

Anyhow, car packed and we’re off.

We check into exactly the same campsite as in 2002, and I remember it surprisingly well.



In fact I’m sure none of the toilet doors locked back then either. There are other more pleasant assorted memories that come flooding back along memory lane as well. Of course on that trip we had two youngish children with us, aged 9 and 11 and a very young collie. Doggo would have only been a year old. That young collie disgraced himself on several occasions as I recall. MD would have been so proud of the old man.

We walk into one of the two pubs in Malham, The Buck Inn.



Again it brings back a few memories but I don’t remember this... Old Peculiar on the bar. Well that's me placated.

(Friday 3rd September)

Bunking Off

When the alarm goes off on a morning L often suggests we bunk off. She always comes up with some tempting and persuasive arguments but no, again today I’m not convinced. Tomorrow we can bunk off, I promise, or at least pretend to. We’re off anyway and heading up to the Lake District. L is doing the Great North Swim. I’m spectating and because all that Old Peculiar and Snecklifter needs company, I’ll also be propping the bar up.



Having not bunked off, I’m not sure what’s best to do today training wise, run or bike? On the grounds that I’ve only cycled to work twice during August I choose the bike. Only two trips on the bike in August is terrible. I suppose I did have a couple of week’s holiday in there but even so.

It’s a pleasant pedal.

After work I ride home, kick the dogs’ footballs around the garden for a bit and then get the bus back over to Derby. We have a works meal tonight. It’s Indian, so unturnable really and a good start to my four days off.

Just as I’m ordering my first Cobra of the evening a text arrives on my phone. ‘URGENT: Great North Swim Postponed. Check www.greatswim.org for info.’ Hmmm. Is L having a laugh?

Apparently not. Checking the Great North Swim website reveals that they have ‘postponed’ the event due to the ‘prevalence of blue-green algae and the impact that this may have on your safety in the water’.

Talk about last minute... particularly considering how long the organisers must have known about the problem, as it is not something that has just occurred. We heard a warning about the algae back in June and were told to keep our dogs well clear of the water when we last went up there. Yet despite those algae warnings the Windermere Tri went ahead as planned in July.

So now they have 9,000 disgruntled punters who will have spent months training, booked accommodation and taken time off work. Call me cynical but perhaps the tourist industry didn’t want people to have time to think about cancelling...

(Thursday 2nd September)

Trench Foot

This morning we defrost the car and drive down the M1 to Huncote in Leicestershire for a spot of cross country, something by the name of the Huncote Hash. The race is on because unlike the Caythorpe run last week it’s not on road so won’t be as slippery. That’s the theory anyway.

Cross country is not my thing at all. I prefer any terrain that I run on to be smooth and tarmac if at all possible, kind of road like, certainly not muddy. Luckily, the fact it’s so damn cold should render the mud meaningless.

I have my River Trent hardened shoes on, the ones I used for Survival of the Fittest and they still have bits of genuine Trent algae hanging off them. They will feel at home in this race, as there’s a stream that we are required to run down. L considers wellies but in the end pulls her orienteering shoes out of what they thought was their peaceful retirement.

As we stash the dogs in the car and head down to the start, they immediately start a duet of howling, totally embarrassing but we can’t give into such blackmail. We ignore them, fully expecting someone to report us to the RSPCA.

We line up for the start amongst a group of cowboys and Indians; fancy dress seems to be the order of the day. Some of the girls are in saris; they have perhaps come as the wrong type of Indians. There’s even a gorilla lurking somewhere near the back of the pack.

I start well but then concede a lot of places. I’m not pushing myself too hard on such a perilous course. I have bigger fish to fry coming up and this event is basically just an excuse to get some miles in. How many miles, I’m not sure, as they are very vague about the length of the course, 6 miles, 6.5, maybe more. I also don’t have the correct footwear on and some of the hills they have us on are quite steep. I almost slide off a few of them. A camber up one ice covered hill, the surface seemingly polished by the runners ahead, and go sliding most of the way back down again. Despite struggling to stand up at times, I still think I’m doing quite well until a gun toting cowboy comes running past me.



Rumour has it that the course offers spectacular views of the surrounding villages and countryside but unfortunately I can’t look up to see because I’m too worried about where I’m putting my feet.

Towards the end, some parts of the course have thawed out a bit and I finally get some traction, managing to run at something approaching normal race pace but then just as I’m getting in to it, we come to the ‘highlight’ of the run. The wade through the stream. Thankfully the earlier runners seem to have broken the ice on the surface. The water though is still feet numbingly cold. My first thoughts are that thankfully it’s only a short section of water. Then once I’m up to mid calf in the freezing water, I think what a long stint it is. As I emerge out the other side, I have to look down to check that my feet as still attached to my ankles as I can now no longer feel them. It takes a good few minutes to warm them back up again and then thankfully it’s the finish.



My time was over 54 minutes for however far it was. They describe it as a fun event, a chance to fun and blow away the Christmas and New Year excesses. Doesn’t stop them disqualifying the first two runners home, who were minutes ahead of the rest of the field and it’s suspected that they found a short cut somewhere.

I fetch the dogs from the car and wait for L to come in. She duly does, managing to hold off a late surge from the gorilla.



Afterwards we retire to Scruffys, to nurse our trench foot and to try out their Sunday lunches. They are all out of beef, so their roast consists of grilled best steak, which is a rather nice variation. The soup starter is also rather tasty and filling, particularly when I remind L of her resolution to cut down on her bread consumption, which means I get double. I’m always thinking of her wellbeing.

(Photos Huncote Harriers AC)