16/02/14
Dunbar was the 6th venue and
the finale of the fabulous Borders Series Cross Country. The sun was
shining but a chill wind saw only the very hardy in club vests
without a long sleeve underneath. Being old and frail I had a t-shirt
over a helly and although it was warm with the wind behind when we
turned for the chase home into the teeth of the wind I was glad of
the extra layer.
Although the kids' races at the Borders have been shortened versions of the adults' they are still given quite challenging courses. Today they had to cover the same start to the end of the beach as we did then a fair bit of the trails to the lighthouse and back.
Previously on this course I have dropped a few
places on that return leg – the undulations and headwind slowing me
down. I was concerned that this may be the case this year also and
had braced myself for a shaming last mile or 2. I did have the excuse
of the day before at Carnethy 5 up my sleeve, but then a lot of the
field were there too.
We arrived in plenty time but already
the place was jammed tight with parked cars. Steve managed to sneak
us in to a prime spot and as we changed, Michael G appeared. He is
not entirely over a knee injury but it held up during the Carnethy 5
so well, he thought he would give it a thrashing over the relatively
flat coastal route (and soft ground) at Dunbar. I thought he would
have lost so much fitness over the 4~6 weeks out that he would be
suffering. However at Carnethy he got a long lead over me in the
first half and it was only in the last climb and descent that I
pulled a small distance ahead. Clearly he would have been miles ahead
if he ever stayed injury free long enough to put some training in.
Having had far too much fresh air the
day before I was a bit dreamy today and forgot a couple of things:
the caffeine sports drugs and the garmin. The former I didn't seem to
miss and at the start I took off as if I had been mainlining it
during the (chilly) wait on the line. We were running into the wind
yet it didn't seem to be holding me up in the usual manner. I had to
caution myself from overtaking Michael Reid and the front runners,
and instead just stick where I was. After quite a journey to the end
of the beach we turned round a marshalled pole and headed back. I was
in 5th place and knew this was still far too ambitious but
was enjoying the way the Hokas were rolling over the beach. Long
before Hokas were invented I was trying to figure out what the ideal
shoe for the likes of the Black Rock 5 would be. Something light and
broad to spread your weight over the sand with a trail sole – hill
shoes being too narrow and possibly too gnarly. Like a miniature
snow-shoe. Hokas are probably ideal and I looked at the deeply
imprinted mudclawed sand with a smile.
Rab from Musselburgh going like a train overtook, then just before we left the first beach
Dave Wright went past and I expected Fergus to do the same. We have
been spending time together lately (Thursday night at the poorly
attended Wintervals, yesterday at Carnethy (though only briefly until
the gun went off) and now today.) I am not used to Fergus being
behind although I recognised his unique style without having to
look round. (He takes about 2 steps to my 3 or 4.) Up onto the
grassy stuff and along to the lighthouse. Off onto the beach again
(firm sand glinting in the sunshine) and Fergus is still on my
shoulder. I take photos of him to see if this encourages him
move past but no, obviously his race yesterday at the C5 had taken
it's toll. Some people have accused me of psychological warfare
taking photos during a race. I would probably deny this. On a sunny
day when the shutter speed is fast enough to capture the run it's not
only a good illustration for the blog but also a reminder sometimes
of what happened in what order.
Thanks to Bob for the photo!
Hadn't realised I was quite so coordinated (matching shoes and helly) until I saw this photo.
Eventually there is a marshal and we
are back on the grassy trails. The sandy soil drains well and there
are only the smallest muddy patches. Still pleased with choice of
shoe and I particularly enjoy the odd section of sand, rocks, and
gravel mix which the cushioned soles float over.
forward
I remember from past years here that
it's a long haul back from the far turning point and the lighthouse
seems to mock from a distance as one runs toward it, getting no
closer. I knew that once the wind was in our faces and the path
started to climb that Fergus would no longer be prepared to jog along
at my pace and the sight of Dave going up the rise ahead inspired him
to race off. I tried to duck in behind to get some benefit of the
draft but that lasted about 4 steps before I settled back to a jog. I
took a couple of photos ahead and behind to break the monotony of the
small climb. I hadn't realised that Michael G was next man behind at
this point. He saw me “taking a selfie” and I think he took it as
a personal insult. He was also disparaging about the swiftness of my
ascent up any incline, although not quite swift enough himself to
close the gap.
I was too busy watching my feet along
the twisting single track to notice who was behind. I had seen a
reassuring gap and felt if I kept a steady pace (and briskly walked
the uphills) I could probably avoid too much humiliation this year. I
can't remember at what point I noticed it was Michael but it
increased my focus considerably, as well as my admiration. I had
thought his lack of training would have left him gasping, especially
with the C5 in his legs. He said it felt like maybe a 4 week taper
had left him fresh. Oh to be young. Anyway, I started running the
up-hills.
And managed to keep a good distance
between us. I felt I made a decent job of the 2 fence-crossing stiles
– not bothering to use hands to steady myself just running/bounding
over without breaking step. I wasn't delighted to remember the last
bit of the course which ducked into the grassy dunes again, dropping and
rising, but at least we didn't have to go round the back of the lime
kilns on the way to the line, which I crossed in 8th and
(given the lack of Mr Whitlie this time) 1st m50.
A bit of a warm down and some photos
and loads of chat then off to Hallhill Sports Centre for a hot shower
and prize giving. Willie J finished the series in great form, well
within the same minute which meant he and I got trophies for overall
3rd and 2nd m50. While the juniors were
getting their prizes I chatted in the bar area to legend Bill Gauld
(singular winner in the over 80 category) who is coping with a back
injury which stopped him doing the weekend's races. It has also
interfered with his badminton!!!
The Borders Series is so good it is in
danger of becoming a victim of its own success. This time the entries
were through Entry Central and capping the numbers meant some folk
were left out. And yet being a series of races not everyone turns up
to every race (to say the least). Hopefully they will allow more folk
to enter next time with fewer exclusions and fingers crossed that not
everyone turns up to the races with restricted parking (which is
possibly the thing that limits the numbers). It is a difficult call
for the organisers to get right. However we have all really enjoyed
the events - a superb mix of great and varied courses, highly
competitive but with the emphasis on fun and friendliness. Big thanks
to the six clubs and all the people whose hard work route setting,
organising, marshalling and time-keeping, often in harsh conditions,
has made the series possible. Six beacons of joy to light the way
through the grim days of winter.
Nice report and pics - I was marshalling the beach turning point - great aspect for a view if the runners snaking around the beach.
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