Running for the pies

Running for the pies
Showing posts with label Winter Gut Buster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter Gut Buster. Show all posts

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

28th December: Gut Busting an Ostrich

Today was my hat-trick of Winter Gut Busters. For this and the last two years on the Sunday after Christmas I have hooned around for 10 miles over the fields and trails around Silchester to earn a cup of mulled wine, a mince pie and a medal. This race also has the shorter option of a 5 mile route, but in the interests of physical stupidity I have gone with the longer distance as per my norm!

Like yesterday’s Brutal I was running in the ostrich costume, but unlike yesterday, which was just cold, today was absolute brass-monkey and I was glad of the extra warmth that the costume would be giving me!

This year I had been organised enough to book my place early and get a parking spot on-site, so I did not have to worry about transporting my costume on the complimentary bus transfer from the overflow parking several miles away.

Last year and this, the country roads on the way to the race were very icy and for the second year running I lost the van on some black-ice, regaining control of it before crashing, although not as spectacular as doing a 180 in the middle of the road as I did last year!.. and on both occasions I was well within the speed limit, so it goes to show you cannot be too careful!

All parked and changed I huddled in with everybody else to try and keep warm with the sun still too low to shine over the farm buildings and give us any warmth, as we listened to the safety briefing - with a few amused and plenty of scornful looks at my get-up from fellow runners… If anything those running today were more po-faced than those at yesterday’s Brutal, with lots of people in running club vests and expensive kit ready to go and ‘own’ the 10 miles in front of them so as to not waste all the training and fore-going of quality Christmas fodder and booze.

The Gut Buster course is an undulating mix of country lanes and fields - muddy fields to be precise, as well as the delights of running around the walls of one side of the ancient Roman town of Silchester, before cutting through the middle of it. Because the terrain is relatively flat, with only a few hills that are mercifully short and not too steep, the pace is quite quick and unrelenting and it is completely different to the 10 miles I ran yesterday as there is no continual changing of pace as you move from ascending to descending and back again rapidly or stand catching your breath in a queue to get in to a large wading section… That said there is one water hazard here on the Gut Buster and you encounter that after around the first mile as you run through a ford that is only about ankle deep, so certainly no challenge to get through!

After the briefing we were shepherded around the corner to await the start and following the mercifully short wait the countdown was over and off we went, both races setting off at the same time, with nobody having a clue who is running which distance so gauging your pace against those around you proves to be difficult.

As I ran along, passing some slower runners and in turn being passed by faster ones as we all found our positions in the pack I was getting a mix of comments over my attire, splitting opinion, those people who did pass pleasantry’s with me rather than harrumphing their disapproval found it inspirational for themselves, as they were damned sure they were going to try their hardest not to have been beaten to the finish by a man dressed as an ostrich!

The road sections over the first half of the course were very treacherous through the ice on the ground. With having trail shoes on my feet, like most other people, grip was at a premium as you have very little surface area of your foot in contact with the icy tarmac, so most people were attempting to run as much on the very narrow grass verges as possible, with everyone looking out for each other with shouts of ‘ice’ whenever we cam close to frozen puddles or stretches of black ice.

Through the ford and we were soon climbing up the hill towards Silchester and the section around the roman town. The sun was now rising to its near zenith and sending some warmth down from the cloudless sky to melt the ice, transforming the previously hard ground to squidgy mud, which doubled the fun as soon as we hit the field section the other side of the ruins! As we crossed the fields I could hear the serenade of gunfire from people out shooting pheasants relatively close-by, so I commented to people as to whether it really was wise to be dressed as a bird whilst there were trigger-happy men with shotguns prowling around looking to shoot at anything large and with wings!

On this second half of the run I found myself keeping a similar pace to a lady called Ruth who was sporting a ‘Grim’ t-shirt from earlier this month, so I had asked how it was to find out if the course had changed since I ran it… Over the course of the next couple of miles that we ran together, it turned out she is in training for the Paris marathon later next year. She also had her family along to cheer her at certain points, so she was looking forward to seeing their smiling faces later on.


Running with Ruth
About a couple of miles from the finish, a fair few of us took advantage of one of the water stops. Whilst we were taking a drink, a local drove-up and started to angrily berate us for being out there making a mess and instructed us to pick up all the used cups and do it NOW! It was true that some cups had been discarded a little down the road, but those running the water stop would be doing a litter sweep to get rid of them during and after the event, but the old-boy in his car was just in a bah-humbug kind of mood so us runners just did our best to ignore him and carry on with what we were doing.

Soon enough we were heading across the final fields towards the finish. The last mile or so is a right slog, a continual slight ascent through the muddy fields as you think the end is never going to come, but eventually it does and I made it across the line in a slower time than last year, placing 267/313, and I eagerly took the chance for the glass of mulled wine and a couple of mince pies.


'Flying' across the finish line.
Ah well, this was the last run for the year for me as I’m back in the saddle tomorrow to carry on with the Festive 500 challenge that I set myself to achieve.

What I have concluded having run the last 2 days whilst dressed as an ostrich:

Surprise surprise, running with a costume does slow you down, as the bulk around you tends to make a smooth flowing running style difficult to achieve (not that my normal style is in any way smooth or flowing), plus you do become aware of rubbing in certain areas and you do heat-up more than normal, so its certainly not something to be running in when chasing a pb!

Most importantly, lighten-up people! don’t take it so damned seriously, the whole thing about running should be to have a bit of fun as well as challenging yourself in getting out there and doing it - just because some random person puts a costume on to run in, does it really ruin your race or spoil the experience for you?

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.


Monday, 6 January 2014

29th December: Gut Busting Blues

The first time I’ve done a double header and a fitting end to a monster year of running in 2014: part 2 of my Blues Brothers 10 Miler.

This second instalment was the Winter Gut Buster over in Mortimer & Silchester. It was the same course as the one I had run last year, although this time around I had been more organised and entered properly rather than having a wait-list place on the day.

With the beautiful sunshine all day for yesterday’s Brutal, the clear conditions had prevailed overnight producing quite a hard frost with sub-zero temperatures.

Driving the short journey from home to the overflow car-park at Wokefield Park, where I had been allocated a parking space with bus transfer to the start, I lost control of the van on black ice on one of the country lanes: As I went around a right hand bend, the back stepped-out and I lost control… Fortunately I reacted as you should (this is not the first time I’ve had a skid in a car) and was fortunate enough to regain control before I hit the hedge at the side of the road.

I say its not the first time, the worst time I had was when I was caught by a gust of wind and aquaplaned off a motorway in France at around 70mph, flying off the side and barrel-rolling the car through 540 degrees through the air before landing upside down and then rolling a couple more times on the ground for good measure. The end result was this:


Just a couple of scratches.
A bit of panel-beating and she'll be fine!
Anyway, back to the running!

Just as I parked-up I watched the transfer bus pull away, so figured I’d have a bit of time to kill, so I had my pre-race brekkie of a Cliff bar and drank some energy drink before half-changing in the back of the van. For the Brutal I had forgotten to wear my support shorts, but I came-out of the run unscathed - I wear them to support my right groin muscle more than anything, but with minimal lateral movement exerted when running, unlike in football, it seems I can easily survive without them, so I decided to do without them again today.

When I saw the bus pulling in to the estate I shoved the rest of my gear in my bag I made my way to the queue, taking my seat with everyone else once the doors opened.

A 10 minute ride and we were at the race-base of Butlers Lands Farm and I went through the registration process before looking for a place to change, only to be informed on inquiring that there was not one, so I snuck in to a barn behind a tractor and turned from fat bloke in to Blues Brother.

Milling around I bumped into Dennis ‘Carthorse’ Cartwright - of the ‘Den’s Got the Runs’ blog, and we were able to have a chat about what he’s got coming-up. He was using today as a training-run ready for the Enigma Winter Double - two marathons in two days the following weekend!

As the clock ticked its approach to the 10am start everyone gathered in the farmyard for the safety briefing. Just looking around it was easy to see that there were far more people than the previous year. Today was the Gut Buster’s third time of running and word has certainly spread!


Huddling like penguins to keep warm at the briefing.
With the organisers saying that the field is nearly double from what it has been previously and the interest was for plenty more places if they could have offered them. Looking at the attire of my fellow runners, there seemed to be less in the way of pavement-pounders out for a change of scenery that I saw last year and more in the way of ‘serious’ runners shod in trail shoes. But then again after the quagmire conditions last year, I think people would have heard what to expect on the course.

After the briefing we were ushered around the corner for the start and we were all off.

The throng behind me!
I set off at what I thought was a reasonable pace, but turned out to be quite a pace!.. Both the 10k & 10M races had started at the same time and although I was towards the middle of the field, it seemed like I was trying to just hold-on with those around me, which at the time I put-down to tired-legs from yesterday’s Brutal.

As I was fighting my way up the first hill, a figure appeared on my right shoulder and enquired if I was who I am… I turned to see a familiar face - someone who I had not seen since I was 19, which makes it pretty much as long since as we were old back then! I knew Tania back from schooldays in Yateley, and at that point in her life, she really wanted to get in to running cross country, which I was getting in to at the time when back from uni, so I agreed to take her out on to the trails at Blackbushe to do a couple of miles. Its amazing to see how far someone has come from being a reluctant teenager exhausted after running for around half an hour - these days Tania has several marathons under her belt as well as plenty of other races at shorter lengths and is now getting her pace up for an assault on the CTS South Devon half marathon in Feb, supported by her husband who is also a keen (and quick) runner… I tried for all I was worth to keep-up with Tania’s pace and to have a decent chat, but my being a fat-bloke got in the way and I had to make my excuses for holding her up as I really couldn’t keep the pace going for much longer and needed to throttle back, plus I did not want to ruin her race - and with that she shot-off in to the distance en-route to her finish of 7th female!.. Sorry Tania, I probably cost you a place or 2 but it was good to catch-up, albeit briefly, whilst I was struggling to breathe and talk at the same time… and fair play for spotting me through my fancy dress as well!


Up the first hill - Tania's arm to my right as she cunningly hid behind the fella in green as we approached the photographer!
As I eased-off the pace, I found I really did not have too much choice in the matter anyway. With the icy conditions overnight, the tarmac on which we were running for this stage was slick with the cold stuff and at times everyone was struggling to stay upright - trying to pick a path through the worst of it or attempting to run on the narrowest of grass verges on the road side. With most people sporting trail shoes, the grip you get on the ice is even less than normal as you only have the tips of the lugs on the sole contacting the ground, so you tend to do bambi-on-ice impersonations whether you like it or not.

Around the icy bend just before the ford.
As we arrived at the ford there was the choice again of going on the narrow bridge or through the water. Naturally I chose the wet option even though I would not need to queue for the bridge this year, but if you’re going to be getting wet and muddy, you’re only postponing the inevitable so through the water I ploughed without breaking stride.

Hitting the wall.
Up the hill from the ford and soon we were at the walls of Silchester and around the city walls we went, although this year we did not do a complete circuit around them, instead cutting through the main street through the middle of the city and back out past the llama’s.

Glowing Llama!
Crossing the denuded sprout field, the going was a lot easier than last year as only sometimes did your foot sink down to the ankle rather than all the time, and after traversing this it was another road section up the hill to the split for the 10M & 10K.

Just after the split I found myself yo-yoing positions with a girl called Tiffany. Before her superior pace allowed her to pull away we naturally got to chatting about running and it turns out we're both down to do the Classic Quarter ultra in June. Today was her first foray back out running in an organised event as she builds-up her fitness levels ready for the terrific undertaking that will be the Classic Quarter. She was persuaded to go for it by one of her friends as it is on her birthday! What a way to celebrate - getting a finish in an ultra under your belt, surely a birthday you would not forget in a hurry. Good luck in your training Tiffany and hopefully I'll bump into you at the start in June.

Hitting the long and winding road section.
The next section of the course was exactly as I remembered it from last year: the longest road section of short steep undulating hills. This part last year had me suffering from my wearing of new trail shoes not yet fully worn-in. A year on the same shoes have been well and truly worn-out having seen me through a good few marathons and have proved awesome on the softest of ground, but unfortunately they are now nearing the end of their life with the seams to the side of the toe splitting on both sides on both shoes. They are now going from race to race awaiting their fate.

The long hard slog across the soaking fields made-up the last couple of miles. Seeing the farm and the finish line on the horizon, and hearing the tannoy welcoming the finishers home I remembered that its a tease… You think you’re going straight there, only to divert away and then skirt around the edges of the fields before it relents and you turn for home. At least time I was prepared for the energy sapping incline through the cloying mud that this section is and I managed to keep myself on a pace to get to the finish in one piece… I may not have won the race, or come any where near winning the race, but at least the man on the tannoy congratulated me as being the winner of the fancy-dress race... If they were to have had one!

With my medal around my neck from one of the marshals and my timing chip taken from me, I made a bee-line for the mulled-wine and mince pies available for the finishers. Scoffing one and savouring the warm spiciness of the wine I made my way back to the finish to clap home fellow finishers.


I had realised whilst running that Carthorse had not passed me during the race so he would surely be appearing soon and sure enough a few minutes later he crossed the line and after he’d composed himself I congratulated him and enquired how he had found it - and the smile on his face said it all! He was surprised at how quick he had managed to cover the course - well ahead of the time he thought he would have, and the same was applicable for me as well.

I finished 7 minutes faster than I ran the course last year in a finish of 149/259 so a decent 58%... My assault on mid-table mediocrity carries-on apace!

The Gut Buster event is well organised and a great fixture to have on the door-step just before New Year's. With how popular it is getting I am wondering how they will be able to cope if they are going to grow it further, and if it is already at capacity then it will become one of those events that you need to book your entry as soon as they open as it will sell-out quicker by the year.



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Sunday, 10 February 2013

30th December: Gut Buster

I spent the last couple of days since the crash willing the gash to get better. I intentionally did not look at the dressing or change it over this time as I did not want to be scared off by anything I saw!

I'd agreed to enter the Gut Buster after Walshy, Stu Charles and Dan Swaine had said they intended to give it a go. Unfortunately by the time I got my finger out of my arse and went to organise my entry, they had filled-up. On closer reading of their website, it stated that they close the race based on car-parking availability at the venue, so with the race not being too far away by distance - around 10 miles, I was intending to cycle so I contacted the organisers over a place on the wait-list.

Their reply came that if I could get there by car-share or any means then I could enter on the day regardless for the standard £20 fee, so by cycling I was guaranteed a place!

On the day I was up at sparrow's fart getting ready to ride there. I had decided that I would just put an elastic bandage over the dressing on the knee to protect it and hope for the best… I knew that the wound was not scabbing properly by the amount of plasma that was leaking out and the occasional dribble of blood.

I set out and about a mile en-route I realised I had left my wallet back home, and with needing to pay the £20 I had no choice but to return, grab it, and dash off again. This had cost me 10 minutes and I was conscious about not making it on-time.

Pedalling furiously I managed to get to the event about 10 minutes before the scheduled start. After registration I sent a message to Walshy asking where he was - it turned out they had all gone to the gee-gee's at Newbury the previous day and got too wasted to even consider being up for a run… So it was me alone.

The route for the Gut Buster is about 75% cross country and the rest on the farm-tracks and country lanes, with a ford to cross. The route takes you around the walls of Calleva Atrebatum - where I had run the Real Relay torch through the middle of not 6 months previous - then off across farmers fields back to the start. The weather leading-up to it had been rainy on top of sodden ground, so a mud-fest was to be expected and I had already got wet on the ride over from the spray.

The race started about 15 minutes late, and off we went down the soaking wet farm tracks wending our way down to the ford. In the safety briefing we had been advised to go across the single-file foot bridge to the side of it rather than risking the water, but having run the Brutal a few weeks ago and the Grim in the past, a bit of water was holding no fear for me and as everyone queued to get across I ploughed on through the water, with a few hardy souls following me.

The start had been very bunched and it took a good mile to get enough room to run at my own pace rather than those in front who were noticeably slower. By the time we made Calleva Atrebatum there was ample room and there was no jostling for space.

I was wearing my trail running trainers so I was prepared for the mud, but most people weren't so fortunate - they were learning the mistake I had made at the Pembrokeshire CTS marathon: no grip is no fun! It made me chuckle with a bit of schadenfreude watching people sliding and slipping over into the mud as I ran past with not a care about my footing!

After our lap of the walls of the Roman city we went across some recently harvested fields which were ankle-deep mud with every step and sucked the life out of your limbs. The mud was pretty unrelenting from this point onwards although not as bad as on this field.

Around this part I ended up being overtaken by someone wearing an Endurancelife shirt - one of the ones they give you for running the Coastal Trail Series, so I struck-up a conversation with him before he would inevitably disappear off! It turns out that today was his 99th race of the year and tomorrow, New Years Eve, was to be his 100th! He had set himself a challenge of 100 races for the year - all varying in length from 10k to marathons. By the end of the year, tomorrow, he would have run just shy of 1,500 miles competitively. This guy was in his late 40's so there's still hope for me yet for these mad-cap schemes of physical tomfoolery! He had just run the CTS Gower marathon and recommended it, although he was disappointed about having to run it in the rain, but you have no choice over the weather!

The course was marked at every km and by the time we got to the 9th we could see the finish-line. This was a right tease!.. It was uphill over harvested muddy fields, energy sapping to say the least, but you could see the finish line and it spurred you onwards!

Once across there were glasses of mulled wine and mince-pies for us to snack on, and a chunky medal for the momento. As I stood there necking some mulled wine, one of the stewards came over and started to talk to me asking if I was ok. Bemused I said I was fine, the rest of the conversation went something like this:

No, you're bleeding, quite badly
Am I?
Er, yes your knee
Knee?.. Oh that, it's nothing (I felt like doing the Black Knight from the Holy Grail here)
But you've lost a lot of blood.
Seriously, it's not that bad I did it a few days ago, it looks worse than it is.
You should come to the medical tent and get it properly dressed.
Thanks for the offer, but I've got to cycle 10 miles home so I would just undo all your hard work, so I'll take my chances!

After changing t-shirt I clambered on to my bike and slowly rode-off home, a journey that seemed to take an eternity

In the end after the results were published, I had come-in 98/164 with a time of 1:38:04 a time with which I was happy all things considered with the knee and having cycled at speed to get there beforehand! After my shower upon my return I was still not brave enough to yank-of the dressing, so I left nature to weave its magic.



A good shot of the bloody knee!

Approaching the finish line.