Cajoled!! It makes a great sound as it rolls around your
mouth, it’s a half-way house between congealed and paroled but generally means
that you have been forcefully persuaded to participate in something which is
probably against your better judgement. Something like taking part in a one
hour body combat class an hour and a half before you take part in a race
consisting of running up and down an 888 foot hill three times.
And so I was cajoled by my gym buddies (Team Pump) to beat
up an invisible man for an intense cardio workout on Sunday 22nd
September before competing in the Butser Hill Challenge. To be fair I guess it
was down to me that the guys were taking part in the challenge in the first
place, although there was no cajoling I certainly threw down the gauntlet, and
the pursuing banter made it impossible to withdraw from either event without
facing immense ridicule and a very high chance of being ostracised from any
future gym activity.
Butser Hill is the highest point of the South Downs National
Park in Hampshire, the challenge was founded in 1978 and was one of the first
major and toughest organised mass runs. It is a demanding ‘grade B’ short fell
run taking in 3 steep ascents and descent of Butser Hill. The organiser describe the run as follows ‘It is a demanding run and it is therefore
essential that competitors are both medically and physically fit.’ ‘The course
is rutted in places, with badger scrapes, rabbit holes and flint. I can also be
slippery on bare chalk and if the grass is wet.’
I competed in this event last year in pea soup fog and
side-ward rain. This year I fancied smashing last years’ time as the weather was
ace and touching on the warm side, it was just the one hour Combat class to get
through first.
I pitched up at Horizon Gym in Waterlooville nice and early,
so far just me and one other waiting for the class, no sign of team pump as yet
(so called because we all attend the Body Pump class, however upon reflection
Team Combat sounds a hell of a lot better). I was starting to think I was being
done over until Mike glided on over sporting his usual Southampton top,
followed by Sophie and Ross, JT was on the Vodka last night so she will
meet us at the hill. Dean (group instructor) is also signed up for the run so I
was hoping that he would be talking it kinda easy, not too much work on the
legs today, maybe I might get away with 75% effort. Fast forward one hour, I am
feeling sort of broken, I haven’t done Combat for about 2 months and now I
can’t find a place on me that doesn’t ache, It even hurts a bit to pull my top
off over my head. Dean doesn’t do 75%, its 100% or nothing, I take some kind of
masochistic pleasure that the next event is more my domain and that the tables
will be turned, I still bloody ache though.
It’s a short drive to Butser hill and the gang meet up, we
are all here apart from Dean. Colin turns up to be official photographer but
not to take part (some lame excuse about having already done a triathlon that
morning). I think the workout has actually warmed me up well and I am bang up
for the challenge, the hill definitely looks a lot steeper when you are
standing at the bottom of it, but I don’t mind a hill or two, and I train here
sometimes so I know roughly how to tackle it.
It is getting closer to the gun and there is still no sign
of Dean as we make our way to the start line. GPS aligned and ready as a
fanfare of watch bleeps fills the air on the starter’s command of go. There is only about 200 runners, so there is
not a great deal of jostling for position, the tracks are quite wide at this
point so you can run 3 or 4 broad and still easily pass if you need to. The
first major obstacle wasn’t in fact the first ascent, it was more of an animal
intrusion than an obstacle, we started to climb the first few feet of the
incline when a sheep on our right hand side thought that now would be a good
opportunity to get over to the left hand side, now I am sure that our woolly
friends are used to seeing the odd group of trekkers and runners traipsing
passed them on a Sunday morning, but I would imagine the sight of 200 people
charging towards them might be enough to think that there grass chewing days
are numbered and that they will soon they be accompanied with mint sauce. Bleating
their disapproval or maybe encouragement the other sheep were egging on the one
caught out on the right hand side of us to come and join them, thus resulting
in a darting game of chicken as it ploughed in and out of the group of runners
like a surreal game of Takeshi’s castle.
So onwards and upwards, quite literally, the first hill is
ok, it goes on for a while but it is at more of a gradient so it isn’t so
steep, don’t get me wrong it’s not easy but it is fine to plod away and keep
the legs moving. At the top you can really see the rolling views of the hills
and countryside around you, it’s truly beautiful and everywhere you look is
like a picture postcard. This is perfect running territory and I am so lucky
that these sort of places are right on my doorstep. Soon the downhill approaches,
people have different ideas about running downhill, some take it slow and
deliberate, some like to side step and careful pick their way down, I just like
to open up my stride an attack it, like a kid running down a slope flaying his
arms about so he doesn't fall over. I read somewhere that if you run quick
downhill your body will still recover at the same rate as if you had taken it
easy, and of course I want a good time so I push on hard and try not to fall
over.
I am not a massively competitive person, I am with myself
though and I like to beat my own times, but not usually with other
people/runners, don’t get me wrong I will always see someone I want to beat,
but this is more of a fartleking manoeuvre so I can achieve my goal, rather
than any personal running vendetta against an individual, in today’s race
however I felt a brewing of competitiveness twice, the first time was half way
up the second hill.
Colin was waiting about 200 yards up the main ascend of
Butser Hill, capturing a lovely camera shot of me smiling (obviously not
pushing hard enough ha) as I began my assault of the grassy incline. I felt
really good at this point, I was overtaking more people than were going past me
and I felt really strong, the Combat class in the morning had actually warmed
up my legs and they were eating up path ahead. About half way up a lady
overtook me, she looked to be going really well, it was here when someone
shouted at her that she was the second lady that my competitive streak stirred,
I had to beat her, not because she was a woman, Christ I get well and truly
beaten all the time by women, but because she was the target to aim for, if I
could beat the second lady home I must be doing really well. Her blue top
seemed to dance off further and further away as I chatted to my thighs to push
harder, you have to really believe that the hard work in the gym and on the
road accumulates for that moment when you need it the most, if you put trust in
your legs that they can do it, they will, they might need a reminder and this
is why I talk to them sometimes, usually a shout of ‘come on thighs’ is enough
to do the trick! Powering towards the summit I refuse to stop and walk and take
great pleasure in the fact that the second hill is almost done, just one more
to go and the time is looking good.
Mrs Blue shirt is now at the top and disappearing left
towards the second downhill of the race, I know I have to push hard on the next
leg to catch her up, I spot her about 100 yards ahead and I stretch out to
catch her up. She is getting nearer and nearer until suddenly she is next to me
and then behind me, a small morale boosting victory is mine, I feel great, I
know that if I can keep in front of her then I will get a good time, and with
only one more hill coming up I must be assured of smashing my PB for this
course, if only there was a photographer at the bottom of the hill and I would
have surely treated him to a trademark heel click, I was kinda euphoric in this
small battle that to be fair was only going on in my head, I was …. .. .. ….
Being overtaken by Old Father Time!!!!
Bosh, I hear a swooshing noise of the wind being sucked out
of my sails, I don’t know why but all of a sudden I was competitive again. I
have huge respect and admiration for the older runner, I absolutely do not
expect to beat anyone of an older age because invariably my pre conceptions
have been proven wrong in the past. I hope to be an older runner who surprises
the nippers one day, but as for today I needed to beat this guy. I don’t mean
to be rude when I called him Old Father Time, it was just what I had stuck in
my head as he breezed past me in the last few metres of the descent and headed
back on up the hill. His calves bulged and flexed as I ran up the single track
behind him, there is no room to really overtake anyone here, not that I could
have if I wanted to, this guy is a machine. This third and final climb is a lot
steeper than the other two, it is also heavier underfoot with more mud and
undergrowth to contend with, although this doesn’t seem to faze OFT as he
bounds up the terrain like a grey bearded mountain goat. A few people are now
walking, they let us pass on through, I can’t even say thanks, my lungs are
somewhere in my throat and I am doing everything I can just to keep up,
everything is screaming, thighs, calves, lungs, abs, yet still the distance
between us is gradually increasing. When we get to the top he is well on his
way towards the final descent, it’s about 400 metres or so of flat running
before the turn for home. Walkers, marshals and families are cheering everyone
on, boosting everyone, squeezing that last little bit of effort out of you,
sometimes it’s just a little cheer that can get a big result.
The final downhill!! As
you are running down the hill you can see the finish line at the bottom, it
still looks a mile away and the crowd are pretty much in the distance. Sod it
lets just go for it, OFT seems to have the same idea and I think we are both
balls out running now, slowly I am getting nearer, I’m not sure if I have
started too early but I have to catch him! It only feels like I am making up
inches but there is a lot of hill still left to run. I am aware that I am now
making ‘sex noises’ as I use up everything I have in the tank to run him down,
closer, closer, then boom I am on his shoulder, we run next to each other for a
while, I am pretty sure he didn't want me to pass him either, I summon up my
last bit of energy to edge past him, there is only about 50 yards left to go,
it feels like a sprint finish but is more like a fast jog up to the finish
line, I have time to look at the clock and over the line I go.
Medal presented I jog up to Colin and wait for the others to
finish, Mike is next, then Ross, then an epic sprint to the finish which see’s
JT just ahead of Sophie.
An awesome effort from Team Pump which see’s in a total climb
of over 2600 feet.
I finished 43rd in a time of 42 minutes 47 seconds
and a total distance of 5 miles (according to my GPS watch) knocking over a
minute off of last years’ time.
One final point to mention, not that I am one to name and
shame, but Dean Wilson was not able to make this year’s Butser Challenge, so
technically we are owed a race, how does Hellrunner sound 04th
January next year :o) .
Me running behind Mrs Blue Shirt |
Start of the main Butser Hill - Smiling !! |
Old Father Time |