It’s been so long, as Sigmund Freud is supposed to have said to Mrs Freud, when she came back from staying with her mother. Never mind, what’s past is past. What’s the current situation?
- Beachy Head marathon is in less than three weeks, my first marathon for five years, and my first Beachy for ten. Training has been disrupted by a chest infection, but I’m confident I’ll get round
- I have a new Garmin. The previous one, a Forerunner 405, was a present from my mother, who died in 2006, so that gives an idea of how venerable it was. It couldn’t cope with long runs, expiring before the end of 15 mile runs and, latterly, 10 mile runs. I thought about an Apple Watch, but the new series, while covetable, don’t quite do what I want in a running watch.
- Preparations for next year’s Moyleman are in train. Entries are open to people with deferred places, previous entrants and members of local running clubs, and go live for everyone in a day or two
The chief news is that I ran, for the sixth time, the Lewes Downland Ten. Organised by Lewes AC, this race takes the runner through some of the finest scenery in the south of England, and is marked by thoughtful touches like personalised messages on the reverse of running numbers. Mine read, “sorry you missed last year, Tom [I’d had a place for 2017, but failed to show, as it came too soon after the Eridge 10 mile] though maybe not a bad thing considering the weather - fingers crossed for a good run in good conditions this year.” The race is also well supported by AS Marolles, the running club in Lewes’s French twin town, Blois. In some years they have run wearing berets and with strings of onions round their necks.
Numbers are collected in the hall of Wallands School, which is also Moyleman race headquarters. I met assorted fellow Striders, and other running chums, and then set off for the start, on Landport Bottom, again also the starting point for the Moyleman, While the Moyleman is honest with runners, and starts at the bottom of the hill and sends them up, the Downland Ten starts halfway up, sending everyone downhill before turning and making us slog our way for a more or less continuous ascent over three miles. At Blackcap there’s a water station, and I drank deep. It was a beautiful sunny day, and warm.
We went on to a chalk path, the way to Ditchling Beacon, before turning off and downhill. Here Istruck up with two runners, let’s call them Pete and Sara, because they were indeed called Pete and Sara. We were the back of the pack, and, as you do on events like this, chatted of races past and future, of parkruns and marathons, and of the cut-off time for this event. Sara was worried we wouldn’t make it. I reassured her. It’s set at a generous 2 hours 45 minutes and even I can run ten miles well under that time. I said, perhaps a little patronisingly, that they seemed to be running at my pace and would have no difficulty. They may have interpreted this as a challenge as, after we had passed a long section of narrow paths, they overtook, and I lost them in Aschcombe Bottom.
This section can be infernally boggy, but, though we had had rain the day before, it was dry enough. Then there’s a steep uphill, and a return to the aforementioned water station, manned by the stout men and women of the Cliffe Bonfire Society. At this point the unthinking runner might decide that the worst is behind them, but the last couple of miles, up to Blackcap itself and the beacon, is not without its challenges. I knew by now that I was the last runner. I’d been passed by a fleet-footed marshal, and a quad bike collecting the markers. I pressed on, and found myself at the top of the finish field. It’s a long way down, but I took it as fast as I could, and arrived home in 2:11:50, the last of 186 runners. I was presented with my reward, a water bottle, filled with water (not, alas, Harveys or Abyss) and overheard one of the marshals say that he was pleased as everyone had finished well before the cut-off.
I’d said, after a tiring and disappointing long run the previous weekend, that the Lewes Downland would be a test for Beachy Head. If I had a good experience at Lewes, then I would go ahead with Beachy. If not, I’d take it as a sign that I was not fit enough. I am delighted to announce that I am confident Beachy will happen. I feel well and, most importantly, I think I have that sense of scale that’s necessary for a marathon. The Downland Ten was hard, but I could think of it as relatively short compared to marathon distance.
