13 hours ago
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Wednesday, 29 December 2010
This is a test post from the command line with txt file
line 1
line 2
line 3
you get the picture?
yes we see.
line 2
line 3
you get the picture?
yes we see.
Monday, 15 November 2010
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Kendal Mint Cake and Cankers and Fencing Staples
Some runners do fiendish back to back races all the time but it's not something I have much experience of. Until this weekend. Grisedale Horseshoe yesterday, and today the Derwentwater Trail Race.
These races are devised so that there is a challenge and a race. They're both the same course and distance, the difference being that the challenge is, theoretically, for the slower runners and walkers, and it doesn't have prizes. It starts an hour before the race.
It's a traditional race with a lot of my Elvet Striders clubmates, but this year they'd all opted for the challenge instead of the race. There were a bundle of Striders running in the Challenge and I jogged towards the Start area a few minutes before 1pm in the hope of grabbing a chat and a few photos. Unfortunately, the organisers had decided to start the challenge a few more minutes before 1pm than I had anticipated and all I saw were the receding backs of the runners as they headed up and away.
So away I wandered lonely as a cloud for a while returning nearer to 2pm for the trail race. Anticipating that they might start this one early too I made sure I was lounging in the starting area in good time. Sure enough with the little hand not yet on 2 we were sent on our way.
I was curious how it'd feel doing this after the Grisedale Horseshoe the day before. Interesting. Very much like the second running phase of a duathlon just when you've hopped of the bike. Not unpleasant. Actually, yes, really quite unpleasant now I come to think about it. But I'd paid my (substantial) entry fee and made my choice.
It's really a rather nice course and fiendish in a mischievous sort of way. I like the way it snakes up one side of the valley, hops over, then carries on up the other side. The terrain was much squashier than I expected but I was wearing some lovely new Salomon trail running shoes that I'd bought from that nice Mr Fisher earlier in the morning.
Towards the end of the race I was beginning to loosen up a bit and started making a few gains on the fast descent to the finish. I had to explain to the lass in front that if she hung around gassing to her
mates she'd lose her place in the funnel and I'd get her time and she'd get mine. No tea, juice or sandwiches for the finishers (you'd have to do a fell race at a quarter of the price if you want that) but a cup of water and a bit of Kendal mint cake. No sign of any Striders but a browse of the results showed good fast runs by everyone who did the Challenge.
No decent race is complete without a proposal and this one was no exception. Not long after I'd finished I heard a bit of a commotion and turned to see a rather unusual engagement in progress (she said yes). So all the best to the happy couple.
So what about the cankers? I didn't know but soon guessed that the Fitz Park had some interesting and unusual trees. This defiant old oak was hosting the biggest canker I've ever seen as well as a rather unenthusiastic hoof fungus (Fomes fomentarius).
And finally, do they or don't they? Split the wood that is. Some hammer in the staples vertically, some at an angle. The BTCV recommend putting staples in at an angle as it reduces the the risk of the posts splitting. At Durham Wildlife Trust we've just whacked them in. I've looked at a lot of fence staples (I need to get out more) and it seems to me it doesn't make much difference either way.
| ||
| From Derwentwater Trail Race |
These races are devised so that there is a challenge and a race. They're both the same course and distance, the difference being that the challenge is, theoretically, for the slower runners and walkers, and it doesn't have prizes. It starts an hour before the race.
It's a traditional race with a lot of my Elvet Striders clubmates, but this year they'd all opted for the challenge instead of the race. There were a bundle of Striders running in the Challenge and I jogged towards the Start area a few minutes before 1pm in the hope of grabbing a chat and a few photos. Unfortunately, the organisers had decided to start the challenge a few more minutes before 1pm than I had anticipated and all I saw were the receding backs of the runners as they headed up and away.
I was curious how it'd feel doing this after the Grisedale Horseshoe the day before. Interesting. Very much like the second running phase of a duathlon just when you've hopped of the bike. Not unpleasant. Actually, yes, really quite unpleasant now I come to think about it. But I'd paid my (substantial) entry fee and made my choice.
It's really a rather nice course and fiendish in a mischievous sort of way. I like the way it snakes up one side of the valley, hops over, then carries on up the other side. The terrain was much squashier than I expected but I was wearing some lovely new Salomon trail running shoes that I'd bought from that nice Mr Fisher earlier in the morning. |
| From Derwentwater Trail Race |
mates she'd lose her place in the funnel and I'd get her time and she'd get mine. No tea, juice or sandwiches for the finishers (you'd have to do a fell race at a quarter of the price if you want that) but a cup of water and a bit of Kendal mint cake. No sign of any Striders but a browse of the results showed good fast runs by everyone who did the Challenge.No decent race is complete without a proposal and this one was no exception. Not long after I'd finished I heard a bit of a commotion and turned to see a rather unusual engagement in progress (she said yes). So all the best to the happy couple.
| ||
| From Derwentwater Trail Race |
So what about the cankers? I didn't know but soon guessed that the Fitz Park had some interesting and unusual trees. This defiant old oak was hosting the biggest canker I've ever seen as well as a rather unenthusiastic hoof fungus (Fomes fomentarius). |
| From Derwentwater Trail Race |
And finally, do they or don't they? Split the wood that is. Some hammer in the staples vertically, some at an angle. The BTCV recommend putting staples in at an angle as it reduces the the risk of the posts splitting. At Durham Wildlife Trust we've just whacked them in. I've looked at a lot of fence staples (I need to get out more) and it seems to me it doesn't make much difference either way.
| ||
| From Derwentwater Trail Race |
Saturday, 4 September 2010
The Grisedale Horseshoe Fell Race
It was a gorgeous morning in Glenridding as I queued at the 'quiet' Car Park ticket machine and decided how many hours I wanted to buy. Better safe than sorry. Five hours should cover it. It's only 10 miles after all. Back to the car to find Will and Casper had arrived and it was time for the handover.
Casper, meet Roberta, Roberta meet Casper. Will was hoping to have a good crack at this race and Casper was unlikely to attack the more technical sections of Swirral Edge with quite the same agility or enthusiasm as Will would. With leads and poop bags handed over, we were all, in our different ways, ready to go.
An amiable gathering around the village hall during which, at some point, I think the race was started, and away we headed into the fells. I've done this race before so was under no illusions about what awaited me. But it's amazing how a year can soften one's memory. As we hauled ourselves up Mires Beck it all started coming back to me. Ah yes, I remember now. This race is really really hard. I was swapping places occasionally with NFR's David Coxon who had started the race mp3-cladded, but now seemed to have other things on his mind.
The weather was very different to last year with clear visibility in all directions, which meant navigation was no fun. Up Catstye Cam and along Swirral Edge, clear and sharp as a knife. I preferred it when it was cast in mist and you couldn't see the climbs ahead. Hot on the heels of David and up onto Helvellyn Ridge, then ... where the hell did he go? It was, admittedly, very busy. There were people out walking and eating sandwiches and drinking coffee and all sorts of nonsense. A very different scene to last year. I appeared to be all alone and I hot-footed it southwards in the hope I might find someone to chase. I bumped into a rather cheery runner walking back the way we'd come, and with a nonchalant wave and a satisfied smile he said "can you tell them that No. 96 has retired?", and suddenly he was gone.
By the time I hit the Grisedale Tarn checkpoint I was convinced that David Coxon had fallen of a cliff and was lying in a pool of blood somewhere and passed on my concerns to the marshalls. After the checkpoint another runner waited for me and asked me if I had the faintest idea which way to go as he hadn't a clue. I pointed up, rather pointedly, to St Sunday Crag, and he got the message. He was waiting for me again at the top, and this time I pointed down, towards the ford, and I messed around for a bit trying to find the famous bit of scree that some say leads to a portal that magically takes you down a fast way to the valley floor. No joy, so I just aimed for the gap in the trees and hoped for the best. Not a bad descent but, as I feared, when we hit the track it was detour time (taking the overall distance to over 12 miles), back up the valley to another checkpoint on a bridge before the run in to the final assault.
I was now finding the whole thing pretty grim. Last year it was just a long gruelling but ultimately satisfying test of endurance. This year, something was different. I was really miserable. Perhaps it was the heat, or more likely, I was tackling an event that I was not really fit enough to do justice. I shall treat the race with more respect next year. Across the bridge and a bit of paddle in the beck, and a long drink. I was taking huge handfuls of water to drink and I'm not usually one to get thirsty during races. The waddling had to stop and I stumbled on to the final climb. This went on, as I thought it might, for absolutely ever. At the top the marshalls, who must have been there for hours, offered me a sweet. After some chat it transpired that it wasn't a jelly baby but actually a wine gum, so I declined. Jelly Babies had all gone. Damn the fast runners!
Now just the final descent and a lacklustre shuffle to the line and I was absolutely done. A glance at the results board showed David Coxon had been in for some time, clearly the results of some devellish site-to-site transport from the top of Helvellyn to Dollywagon Pike. I asked Roberta how she and Casper had bonded and she said "Absolutely fine, he walked beautifully on his lead as long as we went exactly where Casper wanted to go." Will finished in 8th position overall and a fair bit faster than the year before. With the detour and extra checkpoint my time worked out pretty much the same as last year, but this year with a bit more sunburn and a lot more humility. Just a short drive now to a comfy hotel bar and bed and a few beers to get in the mood for the Derwentwater Trail Race the following day.
Grisedale Horseshoe Fell Race at EveryTrail
EveryTrail - Find the best hikes in California and beyond
 |
| Roberta & Casper |
An amiable gathering around the village hall during which, at some point, I think the race was started, and away we headed into the fells. I've done this race before so was under no illusions about what awaited me. But it's amazing how a year can soften one's memory. As we hauled ourselves up Mires Beck it all started coming back to me. Ah yes, I remember now. This race is really really hard. I was swapping places occasionally with NFR's David Coxon who had started the race mp3-cladded, but now seemed to have other things on his mind.
 |
| David Coxon |
The weather was very different to last year with clear visibility in all directions, which meant navigation was no fun. Up Catstye Cam and along Swirral Edge, clear and sharp as a knife. I preferred it when it was cast in mist and you couldn't see the climbs ahead. Hot on the heels of David and up onto Helvellyn Ridge, then ... where the hell did he go? It was, admittedly, very busy. There were people out walking and eating sandwiches and drinking coffee and all sorts of nonsense. A very different scene to last year. I appeared to be all alone and I hot-footed it southwards in the hope I might find someone to chase. I bumped into a rather cheery runner walking back the way we'd come, and with a nonchalant wave and a satisfied smile he said "can you tell them that No. 96 has retired?", and suddenly he was gone.
 |
| Swirral Edge and Catstye Cam |
By the time I hit the Grisedale Tarn checkpoint I was convinced that David Coxon had fallen of a cliff and was lying in a pool of blood somewhere and passed on my concerns to the marshalls. After the checkpoint another runner waited for me and asked me if I had the faintest idea which way to go as he hadn't a clue. I pointed up, rather pointedly, to St Sunday Crag, and he got the message. He was waiting for me again at the top, and this time I pointed down, towards the ford, and I messed around for a bit trying to find the famous bit of scree that some say leads to a portal that magically takes you down a fast way to the valley floor. No joy, so I just aimed for the gap in the trees and hoped for the best. Not a bad descent but, as I feared, when we hit the track it was detour time (taking the overall distance to over 12 miles), back up the valley to another checkpoint on a bridge before the run in to the final assault.
I was now finding the whole thing pretty grim. Last year it was just a long gruelling but ultimately satisfying test of endurance. This year, something was different. I was really miserable. Perhaps it was the heat, or more likely, I was tackling an event that I was not really fit enough to do justice. I shall treat the race with more respect next year. Across the bridge and a bit of paddle in the beck, and a long drink. I was taking huge handfuls of water to drink and I'm not usually one to get thirsty during races. The waddling had to stop and I stumbled on to the final climb. This went on, as I thought it might, for absolutely ever. At the top the marshalls, who must have been there for hours, offered me a sweet. After some chat it transpired that it wasn't a jelly baby but actually a wine gum, so I declined. Jelly Babies had all gone. Damn the fast runners!
Now just the final descent and a lacklustre shuffle to the line and I was absolutely done. A glance at the results board showed David Coxon had been in for some time, clearly the results of some devellish site-to-site transport from the top of Helvellyn to Dollywagon Pike. I asked Roberta how she and Casper had bonded and she said "Absolutely fine, he walked beautifully on his lead as long as we went exactly where Casper wanted to go." Will finished in 8th position overall and a fair bit faster than the year before. With the detour and extra checkpoint my time worked out pretty much the same as last year, but this year with a bit more sunburn and a lot more humility. Just a short drive now to a comfy hotel bar and bed and a few beers to get in the mood for the Derwentwater Trail Race the following day.
 |
| Looking west to Helvellyn |
Grisedale Horseshoe Fell Race at EveryTrail
EveryTrail - Find the best hikes in California and beyond
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Dougie Nisbet -- Running -- races -- Stockton-on-Tees -- River Rat Race - 2010 -- Sun 29 Aug 2010 01-54-12 PM BST (Modified)
Dougie Nisbet -- Running -- races -- Stockton-on-Tees -- River Rat Race - 2010 -- Sun 29 Aug 2010 01-54-12 PM BST (Modified)
Originally uploaded by djnisbet
Roseberry Topping Fell Race
At £4.61 per mile, compared to the Great North Run at a measly £2.90 per mile, you expect to get a fair bit for your entry fee. But what’s this, no road closures? No Lucozade or water stations? No walk-through showers? No medal at the finish? Does Brendan know about this? What this tiny and absolutely barking event does have is far better prizes and much nicer views, and thankfully, none of the runners shouting Oggy Oggy Oggy as we crawled up the mountain. As if we had the breath.
It was a gorgeous evening for this year’s event with the now familiar site of both first-timers and old-timers standing around looking up towards Roseberry Topping with the usual expressions of shock and awe. Roseberry Topping was looking both beautiful and scary in equal measure. There was a lot of chatter about whether “The Chute” would be the better route choice for the descent, with most runners deciding that not breaking a leg would be a more reasonable option. 
A prompt start at 715 and soon after the bottleneck of the first gate. I hopped over and was managing to stick close to my clubmates Cal and Nina and was pretty pleased about that. Soon it was hand-over-hand up the Chute and then the final stumble to the trig point with Nina and Cal a little ahead and Jan a little behind. The gaps between us soon widened on the descent with Will way ahead but just behind the ultimate winner. The local vest I was following took a wide loop on the way down that avoided the steps and allowed for a flat out run for most of the final yards. I was about 50 seconds faster than last year so it couldn’t have been a bad route choice.
 |
| From Newton under Roseberry: Roseberry Topping |
A prompt start at 715 and soon after the bottleneck of the first gate. I hopped over and was managing to stick close to my clubmates Cal and Nina and was pretty pleased about that. Soon it was hand-over-hand up the Chute and then the final stumble to the trig point with Nina and Cal a little ahead and Jan a little behind. The gaps between us soon widened on the descent with Will way ahead but just behind the ultimate winner. The local vest I was following took a wide loop on the way down that avoided the steps and allowed for a flat out run for most of the final yards. I was about 50 seconds faster than last year so it couldn’t have been a bad route choice.
 |
| From Newton under Roseberry: Roseberry Topping |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
