Running – Middle Age Fanclub

The Leeds 10k 2026

I’m experiencing a rare feeling of quiet optimism as I get to the start line of this year’s Leeds 10k. For once, training has gone surprisingly well and I’ve not been plagued with colds or illness of any kind. No aches or pains of any consequence and no injuries. I am however still fully aware of my age, my heart and my body, so while I’m relaxed as we wait to get going, I’m not kidding myself about my capabilities!

Once we get going, having practically crawled our way through the start, it doesn’t take me long to realise that I feel really relaxed. I’m keeping an eye on my pace and fully aware that I’m probably caught up in the atmosphere and running a little bit too quick, but it doesn’t feel bad at all. Sure enough, my first mile is done in a decent time. I’m not quite in James Brown form at this stage, but I feel good!

Our next stage is a little more uphill and I know I’ve slowed down, but it’s not significantly so. I still feel relaxed and continue to do so for the next couple of miles too.

Up to this point there has been plenty of support out on the course, which is always the case. Leeds is a big, friendly run and people make an effort to come out and offer lots of encouragement. So while for miles 2-3 there’s someone running with a speaker playing Maroon 5 amongst other abominations, there are plenty of spectators out calling out names, offering us high fives and just generally being lovely.

There’s also a bloke running near me at this point who seems to think it’s his job to motivate us – shouting stuff like ‘Get your breathing back, NOW!’ and warning us when there’s a photographer near for some reason. I stay relaxed but can genuinely say that I find this kind of thing really off-putting. Mate, my breathing’s ok, cheers and I genuinely don’t care if someone takes my photo and I look like I’m putting a bit of effort into running. Stop shouting!

Before you turn for ‘home’, so to speak, there’s a big hill to run up. Living where I live, I’m used to hills but usually still find them hard in a race. Today feels different though and while I don’t charge up it, it’s only in the last 20 yards or so where I’m really slowing down. And the bonus is, we get to run back down it on the other side of the road.

At this point I notice that the 55 minute pacers are climbing the hill while I’m descending, but for the first time in the run I’m aware of them and know that I have to keep going to stay ahead of them.

The last three miles or so are spent mainly on Meanwood Road, which is largely just a straight run. It’s pretty much a steady downhill as well; something I didn’t really realise until afterwards when I saw the elevation of the route on a map! I’m content just to keep going at the same pace while keeping an eye on my watch knowing that I there are two hills to come on the way into Leeds and that these would definitely slow me down. I still feel fairly relaxed and strong though.

It’s the final hill that gets me though! It comes more or less straight after the first one on the approach to Leeds and by that point my legs are struggling. Having got to the top I then get a little confused as to exactly what’s left, thinking that the finish is round one corner when in fact it’s the next one. At this point someone shouts out, ‘Don’t let those pacers catch you’ and I know that those 55 minute pacers can’t be far behind. It’s definitely time to kick on!

My kids are waiting just above the finish and it’s fantastic to see them, but by this point I’m fighting, knowing that the seconds are ticking down and that it would be touch and go to get in under 55 minutes. And in the end, despite as much of a sprint finish as I could muster, I missed out by 15 seconds, finishing in 55 minutes and 14 seconds. Damn those last couple of hills!

As will happen at the end of a race, I cramp up quite quickly in my calves and hamstrings so it’s just a case of finding some space for a bit of a stretch before keeping moving in order to collect a well earned goody bag, medal and t-shirt. Whatever age I get to and however many runs I manage to complete, I’ll never tire of a medal and a t-shirt!

After that it’s just a case of heading up to Millennium Square to meet my kids where, despite now being 19, my daughter charges across the square screaming and gives me a huge hug, followed by more muted congratulations from my son. Both knock the medal and t-shirt down into 2nd and 3rd place respectively in my list of rewards.

A few days later and I still can’t get those rogue 15 seconds out of my head. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased with my time. But the competitive side of me still wants to be running faster! Luckily, there’s always a next time. So for now it’s a case of keeping on training until my next race in October.

The Pontefract 10k 2026.

Having written about getting my hopes up about running in this event a few days ago, it’s quite nice to be able to sit here writing about the actual thing and not feel in any way disappointed. I mean, I’d have liked to run slightly faster, but in reality I’m totally satisfied with the time I achieved and the way I ran.

It was an early Sunday wake up to get out to Pontefract and then a rush to the start to pick up my number and get stretched and ready for a 9am start to the race. It was also one of those days where I curse my build; my skinny little legs really don’t enjoy the cold! Still, as we were counted down and the clock clicked over to 9am, the sun had just about come out.

Pontefract is a hilly course and although I’ve now done it five times, I had still forgotten just how hilly that actually was. I was fully prepared for the two big hills that follow on straight after the halfway point. I knew they’d be a slog, I knew that my legs would be like jelly by the time I reached the top and so I was okay with that. However, after that more hills just seemed to keep on coming and as positive as I tried to keep, I was actively swearing at them by the time I reached what turned out to be the last one! And yes, I know that swearing at hills won’t achieve anything, but believe me, somehow it helped!

My plan for the race was just to stay positive and determined and to keep checking on my pace. I had it in mind that I could afford some 9+ minute miles, but that in the main, I had to be running more of the 8 minute kind if I could. I suppose it’s not rocket science. I was also aware that some of those hills might take me above 10 minute mile pace and I really couldn’t afford that, even briefly.

The first half of the race went better than planned, although I did go out far more quickly than I’d wanted for my first mile. But by the time we turned to head towards the finish for the second half and those hills hit, my plan was coming slightly undone. The sun was also now firmly fixed in the sky and it was getting a little bit hot. There was nothing else for it than to grit my teeth and just keep plodding on, staying as close to those I’d been using to pace me as possible.

For the second time running in a 10k I missed the water station, which was a bit of a disaster. I did ask if there was another further on and was told ‘yes’, but it turned out that they meant that there were two other volunteers just across the road. And I missed them too!

By the time I’d got myself to the final mile or so I was parched. However, I’d had an energy gel – the first time I’ve used one, disgusting by the way – and so just kept on going. The plan was to attack that final mile, but usually I’m not capable until around the latter part! However, today I’d found another gear pretty much instantly.

Much of the final stretch at Pontefract is downhill, which means you can pick up some pace if there’s any energy left. I wanted to be running somewhere in the 7+ minute mile pace, but I was still a little surprised to see just how quick I was going; I was close to 6 minute pace. And the added bonus was that by the time I spotted my wife and son at the roadside I felt like I was really travelling! In my head I must’ve looked great, but I’m sure their eyes would tell you something very different!

At the bottom of that final hill you almost turn back onto yourself and into Pontefract park towards the finish, which you guessed it, is up a slight hill! I must admit to feeling knackered at this point but I just kept pushing myself to keep that sprint finish going. And with spectators on either side of the course cheering you on, it’s really pretty cool provided you’re not in a complete mess!

In the end I clocked in for a 55 minute run. That much hoped for 54 wasn’t too far off and where usually I might beat myself up about missing out, today I was just happy to get around a tricky course and feel like there wasn’t a great deal more that I could have given.

I bumped into a couple of old friends afterwards once I’d met up with my family again, so that put an added sheen on the day. Both had run way quicker than me, but both also said how tough they’d found the course. Maybe it wasn’t just me swearing at those hills then!

Same time next year? Why the hell not!

Getting my hopes up again…

On Sunday I will take part in my latest 10k race. Regular readers will know that I’m under no illusions as to actually winning. Or even placing in the first thousand, as it goes. Finishing is always a little bit of a surprise.

However, it’s fair to say that I’ve been getting my hopes up again.

Recently, while viewing my latest run statistics on Strava, I scrolled down my feed to find an ‘On this day 4 years ago’ notification, letting me know that this time (April) fours years ago I’d ran a 51 minute 10k. Now for a lot of people that’s not particularly quick, even for some in my age group. I was staggered though.

I’m not one for remembering personal bests and stuff like that, but I was taken aback at this 51 minute revelation for a number of reasons.

Firstly, I couldn’t remember being this quick. Secondly, this would have been under 6 months before I would collapse with heart issues (in the security queue in Manchester airport!) and I would have been suffering with the palpitations that would ultimately lead to having a pacemaker fitted 7 months later. And finally, because since having said pacemaker (and being ‘fixed’) I’ve struggled to break 55 minutes, let alone 51!

It left me feeling perplexed, to be honest. A little bit amazed that I’d been running so quickly (for me) at that time, but also feeling quite annoyed at what having a pacemaker has done for me. That’s a feeling that I can get quite often and I’ve decided that there’s no point dwelling on it. After all, it most likely saved my life, so running a bit slower shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Which is where getting my hopes up comes in…

This coming Sunday I’m running the Pontefract 10k. I’ve had 7 whole weeks of training and have been able to get out for most of that on more than one occasion per week. For each of those weeks I’ve managed at least a 10k training run as well as another shorter one and sometimes even a bit of something else like yoga or a walk. In short, training has gone pretty well, which is far from usual for me. For the last couple of years it seems like I’ve been either ill or injured coming up to a race and have rarely stood on the start line feeling like I’m going to do myself justice. And so I’ve been getting my hopes up.

Sunday’s weather doesn’t look too bad. A suggestion of rain, but barely any wind. I know the course quite well and although it’s hilly so are my training routes. And training has gone well over these last 7 weeks. I’ve not got a cold, nor am I feeling signs of any sickness at all. I’ve even got a new inhaler! I’m not hopeful of getting anywhere near that 51 minutes, but if I could get in under 55 then I’d be thrilled. Fingers crossed that after what can feel like endless uphill sections during the last 3 miles, I’ve still got enough in the legs to put in a big finish over that final mile or so. I’ll let you know how it went. Wish me luck!

The Wakefield 10k 2026

As anyone who reads my stuff on a regular basis knows, I love running. It’s something that I’ve done on and off since childhood, but when I had the first of my heart operations 7 years ago it was something I started to take more seriously again. Having my pacemaker fitted 3 years ago then really focused me; I needed to be as fit as possible.

Last Sunday marked my latest 10k race, the Wakefield 10k. This was my third entry and I was pretty much raring to go.

It’s felt like my training has been blighted by injury and illness for more or less the last year or so. I haven’t ever felt very fit and when a race has come around I’ve either went into it having not ran the full distance in training or having only managed a smattering of training sessions.

For my latest Wakefield adventure though I’d had 7 weeks of decent training and despite a cold a couple of weeks ago, had just been getting on with things. Still, I wasn’t exactly raring to go, but I was optimistic of posting a decent time. The weather also went my way too; hardly any wind and it was quite warm too. So everything was just about in place for a good run!

I really enjoy doing the Wakefield 10k. It’s an undulating course and therefore fairly challenging, but it suits me in a way as there are loads of hills where I train. So as much as I complain about having to run up hills all of the time, it means that at least races with hills come as no great surprise. It doesn’t stop me grumbling though!

There are also always plenty of spectators out along the route and they’re always really supportive, which can give you a timely boost just when one was needed. It’s funny how I would consider myself a bit grumpy at times and not really one to join in too much forced fun, yet get me in a race and I’m high fiving kids and pressing their ‘Power Up’ signs left, right and centre! I guess it’s just all part of the experience. I mean, it can’t all be about ending up with a body that aches for days after, but knowing that you at least earned a new t-shirt or a medal!

In the end, I didn’t quite get the time I wanted. I thought I was running well and was keeping an eye on my watch, but on reflection probably went out a little quicker than I should have which meant I suffered a bit in the last two miles. So my 55 minutes wasn’t quite what I wanted. I saw my wife and son in the final stretch of road before the finishing straight and instinctively sped up, but I was shattered!

To add to my problems, they’d moved the finish line back a bit, meaning that when I kicked and started to sprint for the line…it wasn’t there! Well, it was but just further away than it had been before, so that as I turned the corner into what I thought was about another 100 yards or so, it was about double that and my tired legs did not respond well. I managed to steel myself enough to keep up a decent pace, but had let two or three people pass me in my confusion. Never mind!

Such was my effort that I was convinced I was going to be sick as I crossed the line and it was just a case of keeping moving, finding a space and pulling myself together a bit. Luckily, I wasn’t sick!

New t-shirt collected and a bottle of water in my hand it was time to do the usual thing of worrying about meeting up with the family. The layout of the finishing area had changed a bit and I wasn’t sure they’d be able to find me, but just when I was wondering how long they’d be, they appeared. A few minutes later I bumped into a former student – who I’d also met at the same event last year – so that made for a lovely end to my morning’s running. And if running a 10k isn’t reminder enough of your age, meeting an ex student from what must be 15 years ago, with their toddler will really emphasise this!

My next 10k is in Pontefract in May and it’s another hilly one. With that in mind I’m going to try concentrating on some strength work in among my running, as my skinny little legs really aren’t built for hills! And I’ve already signed up for next year’s Wakefield 10k with the goal of being in better shape than I have been in the last 3 years or so and getting a personal best. Even at my age it’s nice to set some ambitious goals!

Back on the roads again…

Just under a couple of weeks ago I took part in the Dewsbury 10k and having had time to reflect, as well as rest my aching legs, I thought I’d write a few thoughts down.

If you’re a regular reader you’ll know that I love running. I don’t think I’m quite at ‘running bore’ stage just yet, but I’m having a good go. And if you’re a regular reader you’ll know that for around the last year or so I’ve struggled to train consistently through illness and injury. For Dewsbury I was running on the back of only three training runs, brought about because of a chest infection and sinus problem that knocked me flat for just over a month.

In my final training run I’d dragged myself around a 10k route in just under an hour. It was horrible and I felt like death warmed up, but I’d gotten round. My attitude to Dewsbury was that I needed to just get round…and try and be a little quicker and less embarrassing!

Despite it all I was genuinely excited about running the night before and I woke up feeling pretty optimistic too. Better still, I felt reasonably healthy.

Thankfully it was a decent morning, weatherwise, with the sun making a rare February appearance and the wind barely blowing at all. Perfect conditions for running!

As ever with a race it was a battle to get through the start with a crowd of us just plodding forwards as the numbers gradually cleared in front of us, but once I got through the start line and into my running I felt pretty good. I’d decided to go out steadily and then up the pace as we turned for home at the 3 mile mark, but on the few occasions that I checked my pace I was always quicker than expected and I knew that this would probably catch up with me.

The Dewsbury course is reasonably flat though, with the first half going slightly uphill and the second half heading back down. Still though, I was right about my legs! It wasn’t long before I was feeling the strain, but it helped that I knew the roads and was obviously aware that every step was getting me closer to that 10k mark. So it was just a case of gritting my teeth and getting on with it.

The final mile felt like it might never end and frequently checking my watch wasn’t helping! But I managed to stay focused and ignore the fact that one of my hamstrings was cramping a bit and kept going.

As ever, seeing my family at the side of the road gave me a welcome boost and spurred me on a bit, so as I got to the final third of a mile or so I was really pushing myself. The trouble was, I couldn’t see the finish! At Dewsbury the finish is around a corner at the end of a long straight road and if I’m honest, it was killing me not being able to see it! Even when I rounded that final bend it still looked far too far away! However, knowing that I’d be finished the race in a matter of seconds, I just decided to sprint as best I could.

I could hear footsteps behind me; obviously anyone with any energy left is trying to sprint in these circumstances, and a glance over my shoulder told me that several people were intent on getting past me. Despite my age and lack of fitness these days I’m still very competitive though, so only one person passed me before the line, a young woman who was literally flat out sprinting! Fair play to her!

In the end, despite the lack of training, I finished in just over 54 minutes and although I’d have loved to have gone quicker, I couldn’t help but be pleased with my efforts. In fact, such were my efforts that when I came to drive home I couldn’t lower the clutch without my calf cramping up, resulting in about another 15 minutes spent stretching by the car before it was safe to go home!

Next up is the Wakefield 10k on 22nd March, which gives me a decent amount of time to increase my fitness and be ready to give things a real go. Well, that’s the plan anyway!

Running: It’s been a funny old year.

When I say ‘it’s been a funny old year’, it’s not been funny at all. For the first couple of months of 2025 I was struggling to shake off the effects of a bug I’d had over Christmas and New year and it just felt like I wasn’t making any progress at all. Running was no fun whatsoever.

By March I’d managed enough training to complete the Wakefield 10k in a reasonable enough time to keep me happy. It went better than I’d imagined it would and that was more than enough. I resolved to get out training and get my fitness levels back up to where they’d been a couple of years before. This had been around the time of having my pacemaker fitted, when strangely enough I’d been the fittest I’d been in decades and was running well, producing faster and faster times week in week out.

Sadly, as this year has progressed, things didn’t particularly change. There was little or no upturn in fortune or fitness and injury followed illness followed injury. If I got really lucky I’d be ill while carrying an injury!

Since March I think I’ve managed to run less than ten 10ks. Only one was in a race; the Leeds 10k which as ever was thoroughly enjoyable. The ones I’ve managed to complete in training have been slow and gruelling. Mostly though, I’ve been restricted to shorter distances with the odd bit of strength work thrown in for good measure. But even the resistance bands have fallen by the wayside. It’s been hard to stay motivated when I’ve been full of cold, feeling sick or nursing my back through a week at work, hoping that it doesn’t just ping and leave me in a world of pain. This happened in August and left me struggling to walk, let alone run! Not content with feeling that it had strained a little in the morning, in the evening I thought that it would be a good idea to start moving heavy bags around only to find that the ‘ping’ happened with the first attempted lift. Absolute agony!

I managed to find renewed motivation going back to work in September as I trained hard to be ready for my local 10k. I’d started off trying to run some quick 5ks before building up distances. Towards the end of September I realised that I hadn’t had my race number through for the 10k that was taking place at the beginning of October. Checking my emails revealed no confirmation though and then the penny dropped; I hadn’t actually entered. I took it as a sign. Still struggling to gain any momentum or fitness I decided just to take my time and train steadily towards the next 10k at the end of November, giving me loads of time to get sharp and ready for a race that is relatively flat and known for the chance it gives for personal bests.

Even then, things just wouldn’t go right. A couple of weeks ago I injured my foot and still have no idea how I did it. One minute I was walking along fine and the next it hurt to put my foot on the ground. That lasted a week before gradually getting better!

Over the last week I’ve been able to get in two runs; a 4 mile and a 5 mile. Neither was hugely quick, but I’m happy to have miles in the legs and on my 5 miler I have to say, I felt strong.

Hopefully, this is the start of just being able to get out running regularly. I managed to get out for a run on our recent holiday in Mallorca, even though I’d planned to go out twice…illness again. I love the change of scenery though and the fact that I can get straight into the pool once I’ve finished, so even just the one run is a bonus! Now, back in chilly England, I’ve got around a couple of weeks to get myself race ready. Maybe there can be a decent ending to my running year yet!

Wish me luck!

Book Review: ‘Outrunning The Demons’ by Phil Hewitt.

Running is one of those subject that can be quite divisive. As runners, we’re sold on its many qualities. It can almost feel like a drug in its addictive nature and despite the pain and the exhaustion, we always come back for more. Worse still, it can also become all that we want to talk about and so, we become ‘running bores’ on top of everything else. Believe me, other people love a running bore!

‘Outrunning The Demons’ is a collection of real-life tales from various runners of all abilities about the reasons why they run and the reasons why running has saved them. There are stories of bereavement, addiction and mental health challenges and all of them highlight the importance of running to those involved. In fact, Hewitt himself turned to running after being mugged and left for dead in 2016, so he’s living proof of the healing qualities of getting out for a run.

Since rediscovering running in my forties I’ve realised its importance in helping me think things through and its values in terms of my mental health. Then, having had a major heart procedure when I hit 50, running has become even more important, giving me at first a recovery goal and since then a lot of the strength needed just to keep going at times.

So ‘Outrunning The Demons’ felt both pertinent and personal to me. There was lots to relate to in these tales, as well as the type of pain and running ‘journeys’ that I couldn’t hope to understand. Among the 34 stories there are elite runners and there are people who only took up running because of the loss of a runner who was close to them. Charlie is a recovering drug addict, Theresa lost her firefighter husband in 9/11 and ran to take his place in a marathon, James an army veteran recovering from trauma in Iraq and Sujan suffers with anxiety brought on by a troubled childhood. All of them looked to running to help them cope again with every day life.

And there are loads more amazing stories to read about here. This is a book that’s as full of inspiration as it is pain. And it’s a book where you can’t fail to care about the people that you read about. So, at times it’s an emotional read. If you’re a fellow runner, you’ll undoubtedly recognise many of the emotions and be able to empathise with the trauma that some of these ordinary folk have endured.

Hewitt’s own tale is startling and perhaps worthy of a book in itself. But instead, he spent time bringing together people from all corners of the globe who have sought out a similar solution when faced with the kind of problems that might otherwise have seen them go under.

‘Outrunning The Demons’ is at times an incredible read. It’s subtitled ‘lives transformed through running’ and is comprehensive in recounting what really are some remarkable transformations. Always interesting and always inspiring, it became hard for me to put down at times. A life affirming read, whether you’re a runner or not.

I give ‘Outrunning The Demons’…

Power Up signs, smiling more and a bloody cricketer! The Leeds 10k.

Having been forced to miss last year’s Leeds 10k due it falling on the same day as my daughter’s 18th birthday, I was looking forward to this one. It’s an event that I came late to, having only done my first one about 4 years ago, but I always really enjoy the race.

All in all, it was a good day for me. Illness meant that I’d managed less than a month’s training – 7 runs – and only a couple of 10k runs in that time. That said, having pulled out of my last 2 races in April and May, it was nice to feel well enough to even get round one for a change!

I’d been to a gig the night before and so my legs were pretty sore from all that standing and dancing, which resulted in some lovely shin pain all the way around the 10k. Nothing else for it but to grit my teeth and get through it though!

I’d hoped to run it in under 55 minutes, as that was my quickest run in training. Alas, it wasn’t to be! A slow last mile, where I just didn’t quite have the legs to get me up the last couple of hills quickly enough, brought me in slower than I would have liked, but I have to admit to being pretty pleased with my time of 55 and a half minutes.

It’s a brilliant race to do. There’s always lots of support out to cheer you on your way, which actually does help. The route is fairly undulating; some nice flat parts, some lovely downhill stretches, but some nasty hills – particularly coming back into Leeds in the final mile – so it’s a fairly challenging course.

This year, rather than writing some kind of report, talking you through almost every step I take I’ve decided to take a different approach. Sat at home afterwards I had a moment to reflect on some of my favourite bits and some of the things that occurred to me as I plodded my way round the course.

Choirs. There were at least 3 choirs out on the course and all of them gave me, and I daresay thousands of others, a timely boost. The best of them though was outside a parade of shops in Headingley. All wearing black and yellow, all ladies and just sensationally good. I actually ran past applauding. I mean imagine being kind enough to think, let’s get together and sing some songs to those knackered looking people who’ll be going past on Sunday. I just think it’s a lovely thing to do.
A one man band. Near Hyde Park, I think. Just as we were crossing a road to head to a much needed downhill stretch I heard music. Drums, a keyboard, maybe some guitars. And then when I looked it was one bloke playing drums to a background of what I assume was a programmed synthesiser. Just rocking away without a care in the world!
Volunteers. Loads of them. Whether they were at drinks stations or just marshalling along the route, the volunteers are the heart of any event. Sometimes, when you’re feeling pretty shattered and some kind soul in a high viz bib tells you, ‘You’re doing great’ or ‘You’re amazing’ it really helps. Invariably, I’m not but it’s such a lovely thing to hear!
Fancy dress. I’ve never understood the need to run in fancy dress. Don’t get me wrong, I really admire those who do it, but have always felt that it’s enough just dragging myself around without a costume! This year I spotted runners dressed in all manner of costumes; a flamingo, a sloth, a lion complete with mane (this was in about the last half mile and I lengthened my stride, determined not to be beaten by bloody Simba!), a sunflower and a zebra. My son – a little too happily for my liking – also informed me that I was beaten by a man wearing full cricket whites complete with jumper, a bat and all of the padding; a really heavy outfit to run a 10k in on a hot day! It takes a special kind of person to commit to something to that extent!
High 5s. I’m not normally one for a high 5. Not very touchy feely, me. However, whenever I do a race there a families with children who will hold out their hands to get a high 5 from the runners. Again, it’s just another lovely thing about this type of event and I try to go out of my way to indulge at least a few of them. Kids always get a bit of a kick out of it and it’s just really rewarding to hear them laugh or see them smile as you run over. That said, given my sweaty red face, it must be terrifying for them as I approach!
Power Up Signs. The effort that had gone into some of these cardboard masterpieces this year was amazing. If you’re not in the know people sometimes hold signs saying ‘Power Up Here’ or something similar while watching these races. The idea is – like a video game – you touch the sign and receive a ‘power up’. This year people had drawn Sonic on them, characters from Mario and all manner of other stuff. And they looked great. Sadly though, they don’t actually work!
And finally…smiling! The amount of smiling faces who turn out to give some encouraging is always a real positive and I really appreciate. In fact, there’s nothing better than spotting my family somewhere near the finish, smiling and screaming at me. This year though, I decided that it might help my running if I smiled more. Let’s just say I don’t ‘wear’ running well. I look knackered and my face and body must seem to scream ‘HELP!’ to the casual observer. So, for this run I tried to relax, smile and even have a bit of a laugh and I think it kind of worked. Mind you, it didn’t work on the final long hill when a fellow runner dressed head to toe in various dayglo colours took it upon himself to turn Mr. Motivator and shout encouraging stuff like ‘Come on, guys we’ve got this’ and ‘We’re all in this together!’ as well as singing lines from whatever song popped into his vacant head. Smile? It was all I could do not to tell him to shut the f… up!

Anyway, I’m off to find my next running adventure as the next one booked in isn’t until October! I’ll be back for Leeds next year though!

Middle Aged Moans and Creaking Bones.

It’s been a bit of a difficult start to the year in terms of health and fitness. It started with me catching some kind of bug just after New Year, which pretty much knocked me for six. It felt flu-like (I promise it wasn’t just the mythical ‘man flu’) and really didn’t help in preparing for the term ahead at work, as well as the new year in general. And it’s been largely downhill ever since…

A few Sundays ago, I was meant to be running the Pontefract 10k, easily one of my favourite races of the year. Training hadn’t been going well though and the most I’d ran in over a month had been 4.5 miles, which was a long way short of what I needed to complete for a 10k (6.2 miles). Still, despite the lack of miles in the legs I’d resolved to run and just give it everything I had in order to get over that finish line in a half decent time. And then the Saturday before happened.

On the Saturday before the race, I woke up feeling fine. I’d had a decent sleep and was up and showered early and ready to go. The usual Saturday plan is to head to a local country park in order to volunteer for ParkRun or just get some washing in and then head to the supermarket to do the weekly shop. With my son busy revising, it meant that we wouldn’t be volunteering, so once the washing was in I headed to the supermarket where, up to a point, everything was going swimmingly.

Suddenly though, as I headed to the checkout, I felt violently sick and my stomach was turning more than my washing machine. I dumped my trolley and ran to the toilets, just in case – can you imagine the eternal shame of throwing up in your local supermarket? Nothing happened though and so when I felt a little better I rescued my shopping and went and paid for it.

It happened again though, almost the minute that I walked in through my front door. To cut a long, repetitive story short, I ended up in bed, sleeping like a baby for the next couple of hours. On waking up, I realised pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be making the trip to Pontefract the next day.

This was the second race in two months that I’ve had to pull out of. The first one, in April, was just because I felt extremely tired. I didn’t even really want to race, having done the same one last year and hated every second of it! It was only bloody mindedness that made me enter again!

And so, that Pontefract Sunday was spent trying to pick myself up from feeling low and working out how to put things right. I had four weeks until my next race – the Leeds 10k, which is always fantastic. I decided just to take a slightly different approach and resolved to think less about times and distances and just make sure that I get out and run. No excuses, no pondering and deliberating and talking myself out of things…just get out with a minimum distance in mind and run. Hopefully fitness would come and as the race approached I would be able to start preparing properly and getting some longer distances in.

As I write on 2nd June, it’s been going well. I dragged myself out and did a post work 5k on the Monday evening after having missed out on Pontefract and I’ve been keeping going since then with 4 runs in total as well as several long walks and some yoga. My latest run was a Friday morning 10k which was nowhere near as tough as I’d expected and although I was slightly irritated with my time (just over 56 minutes) I’ve told myself that it doesn’t matter and that if I can run under 55 minutes for the Leeds 10k, then that will represent a bit of a triumph.

Hopefully, by the middle of June I’m approaching some sort of fitness. In an ideal world I won’t be struck down by another bout of mystery illness and so be able to just slowly build my strength back up. It’s been good just to give myself a kick up the backside and adopt a ‘no excuses’ attitude.

Roll on Sunday 15th June and the Leeds 10k! Fingers tightly crossed until the actual day though!

Book Review: ‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’ by Adharanand Finn

For a while now, ultra running has both appalled and fascinated me. We’re talking ridiculous distances and conditions – running 100 mile races is fairly typical and often involving mountains and other such treacherous terrain. The idea of putting myself through such torture, despite my love of running, appalled me, but the idea that people chose to test themselves to the limits in such events absolutely fascinated me.

‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’ had been on my ‘to read’ list for a while. It had sat there in one of my book boxes idle, occasionally popping its head up and briefly grabbing my attention before losing out to something shinier. And then one day, I decided that the time was right. It turned out that I really should have picked it up earlier!

The book plots the rise in popularity of ultra running; basically the pursuit of running ridiculous distances over many hours, sometimes days and often in ridiculous conditions. It would seem that there are now plenty of perfectly sane humans getting bored of the shorter distances, you know, like a marathon! For the uninitiated this means that ultra runners are taking on anything from 50k to 160k. In fact, the longest ultra is actually 3100 miles!

As with the last book of his that I read, ‘Running with the Kenyans’, Finn immerses himself in the world of endurance running. In order to write the book, he doesn’t just search out ultra runners, he becomes one and it’s an interesting read. Finn not only runs the races, at one point he even moves in with one of the world’s best ultra runners living in a cabin on a mountain, training with him and generally just trying to absorb everything he can about this world that he’s joined in with.

The adventures of ‘The Rise of the Ultra Runners’ take us all over the world in the pursuit of the ultimate test. Finn talks us through each agonising step in a world where things can change from one minute to the next. It seems that as an ultra runner you never quite know when disaster might strike.

However, these athletes, Finn included, are ridiculously dedicated to their craft. So whether, it’s an injury, the terrain, the weather or just the fact that the climb just doesn’t seem to want to end, these people just don’t seem to ever want to give up. Given that the distances can stretch into the hundreds and sometimes thousands of miles, this is an illuminating read, to say the least. And there was me congratulating myself on keeping going for the final mile of a particularly tough uphill 5k the other night!

‘The Rise of the Ultra Runners’ is a fantastic read whether you’re a runner or not. If you run, it’s about our world, but multiplied by 100 in most cases. If, like me, you often struggle to drag yourself around a 10k then you’ll be amazed at the physical and mental feats described here. The fact that not only can humans push themselves to their physical and mental limits over what feel like obscene distances, but also while they’re literally climbing mountains or battling with ridiculous extremes of temperature will never not fascinate me. But it’s not just that that’s so interesting. With this book, the devil is really in the detail in terms of exactly what we’re capable of.

The further I got through the book, the more fascinated I got. And the more fascinated I got, the more I thought about trying an ultra marathon myself. The reality is that I most likely won’t ever have the time, but it’s an idea that I still can’t shake and I’d love for there to be a time where I was able to train for one and make it happen.

And for me, that’s the genius of the book. It tackles something that will seem utterly ridiculous for the majority of us and yet, we’re still compelled by what we read. This reader, despite the onset of middle age, a pacemaker, asthma and a terrible habit of eating crisps and chocolate and drinking red wine read it and genuinely thought he’d be able to run a 50k race. And let’s not get started on my genuine fascination with a 100 miler in South Africa!

I give ‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’