Salford Harriers Raising Their Game

I like a bit of history, it was my favourite subject at school and I’m enjoying watching the programmes looking back on the First World War, in this the 100^th year since the start. During my 25 years as a runner I’ve belonged to clubs with great histories and I feel like I’ve made an actual contribution, albeit a small one in comparison to others, to that history. It was one of the reasons I joined Salford Harriers, nearly two years ago. They go back to 1884 and have won a number of major titles since then.

Unfortunately, for me, I’ve spent most of my time with Salford suffering with one injury or another, my current problem, pulled hamstring, is reminiscent of the injury I had when I first joined. Fortunately for Salford my incapacitation has not stopped them from winning as the club is filled with talented runners, in fact so many that our B teams feature prominently in competitions as well as our A teams.

Since I joined, and it’s purely coincidental, the Senior team has been building in strength. Sure Andi Jones leaving was a big loss but fresh blood has come into the team and our Senior squad can boast a team full of International runners with improving pbs. The Masters, always a threat and always supportive of Masters competitions (usually bringing more than one team in each age group, who else could boast that claim) have won or been challenging for the win in just about every competition. Since I joined, when we were already a class Masters squad, we’ve been bolstered by the addition of more quality runners. Unfortunately, for us, this last year the rules have changed to reduce the number of athletes to run in Masters teams in the relay competitions, whilst this should make competition fiercer, allowing more teams a bite at the cherry, it will mean a number of our athletes will miss out on their own little nibble. Perhaps it’s time to allow B teams to feature in the medals, I’m sure we could sneak a few that way and I’ve never seen why strong teams should be penalised, look at Aldershot’s ladies team, they regularly finish 1^st and 2^nd in major competitions but the fact that some always miss out on medals may encourage them to leave a team they don’t want to.

Next weekend is the Masters Road Relays at Sutton Park. It promises to be a fantastic day out. It always has been and I’ve been lucky enough to be involved for a number of years. I’ve yet to make my debut for Salford in this event, last year I was almost ready to start running again after messing up my Achilles in the winter, this year it still looks like I may have to miss out again. For Salford it’s not just a chance to fight for medals against the best clubs in the country, it’s a day out. Having seen our A team line ups I’m quite excited to see how they do.

It’s been a bit of a break since I wrote my last blog, work has kept me busy, so busy I’ve been working seven days a week for a while, thankfully I enjoy my work and there is reward in doing it. My last blog saw me express my thoughts on giving in to the injuries, whilst at the same time I was making a determined bid to try to make our four man team for next week’s championship. Writing down my thoughts made me more determined, the following weekend I was up in Scotland for a family do, so I decided to run the Edinburgh Parkrun. For the first time in many a race I actually lined up at the start thinking I could have a good race, I’d even put on my racing flats, something I’ve never done before for a parkrun. It was a windy day but as I set off the wind was behind me, I went through the first k faster than any I’ve done in a long time and an even quicker 2^nd k, but turning the corner half way round I was suddenly hit by this incredibly strong wind, the likes of which I’ve never experienced before. It stopped me dead, I pushed through, by 3k I was hitting lactic but still fighting through this stiff wind. It was incredibly painful and I just wanted it to stop but it wasn’t going to so I just had to keep fighting it all the way to the finish. I’d been on for a sub 17:30 finish early on but the wind saw me falter to 18:02 a chance wasted.

The confidence gained, despite the slow time, meant I lined up, four days later, for a 5 mile race with a real feeling that I could do well. And I was doing well, through 3 miles in a time that would have seen me run about 17:20 for 5k, I was coming strong in that 4^th mile, passing people and setting my sights on a group ahead. With 1 mile to go I felt a slight twinge in my hamstring, I eased back a touch but thought I’d be ok to maintain pace. I decided not to push any harder and let the group ahead go, but I was still on for a reasonable finish, then 300m to go to the finish I felt a big pull. This time I had to slow right down and jog/limp into the finish. I lost a lot of time in that 300m but only 1 position. More importantly that was it for me, I could hardly walk and it’s only now that I’m able to make a start running again. Such is the life of a runner.

All my plans for this year have been thrown into disarray, the races I was targeting are all bunched around May and June and there is no way I’ll be fit enough to compete at the level I wanted to by then. I’ll have to build up slowly and focus on next year, when I hit the new age group. So clearly I’m not giving into it just yet.

Incidentally, I’ve just realised that I’ve written this blog from the perspective of the mens team, but actually the ladies are also showing form and will be aiming to feature next week too.

Come on Salford.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Is Enough, Enough?

I don’t really like quitting and I don’t actually think I’m a quitter, but sometimes you just have to say I’ve given it everything I can and it’s time to move on. I tried hockey, I was the worst player on the team, even though I scored one of those really spectacular goals that would feature on goal of the year, had there been cameras around, the sort that only the best players can conceive of, or, in my case, is a mishit back pass that not only doesn’t stay on the ground but also heads in the wrong direction. It was my first goal for the BBC, my 2^nd and last goal would follow about 10 minutes later, less spectacular and, this time, actually intentional. Soon after I realised I was fooling myself if I thought I was going to be any good at hockey and gave up. My quitting of the hockey world coincided with the quitting of my career at the BBC, I was going nowhere in an organisation that I loved working for but they didn’t love me enough to pay me a salary that meant I could actually afford to live in London.

If it was money I was after then I needed a change and I found myself embarking on a career in the computer industry. It started well, I picked up programming quickly and was one of only three people, from the course, to get selected to work for the top employer on the list, NatWest. With a new career came a new sport, football. I’d never been a great footballer but I was above average. I didn’t have any dreams of playing for a proper club or even making any money out of it but I did harbour the dream that I would get a regular team place in a local Sunday league team. Those hopes were soon dashed when I realised the difference between playing with friends and playing competitive footballers. After 4 months of getting selected to join the team in the pub after the match I realised my football career was a non starter, time to try something else.

I tried running, I seemed to have some natural endurance so I thought I’d join a club. Hercules Wimbledon beckoned, but they were shut, so I ended up at Belgrave. I wasn’t much cop at running either; my first 800m, on 6^th May 1989, ended in 2:15.2, but I still came 3^rd. I followed this up on 12^th June with a 5000m, which I completed in 18:12 – I wasn’t last. Two months after my first 800m I ran my second one and improved dramatically to 2:14.8. Not exactly Olympic material, but there was something about running that I liked. I could see that if you worked hard you could improve but most of all I didn’t have to get picked to take part, all I had to do was enter. Obviously I realised that for some events you had to be selected but in those days I had no real ambition, other than to improve my performance and have some fun.

A young Rog winning a mile race in 1990, 4:35 - a classic stopwatch photo

Twenty five years later I have improved, though I’m now slipping closer to those original markers I set down. Not only that but I did get selected for some big events, and I’ve had a lot of fun. However these days I really am beginning to find it hard to motivate myself and I’ll admit the thought of giving up has crossed my mind.

During the middle of my peak years, seen here leading a BMC 1500m with some of Surrey's best in action

In those twenty five years I’ve had two maybe three calendar years where I haven’t suffered an injury that has meant taking a break from the sport. A lot of the injuries were short term strains or pulls which took a couple of weeks to fix and then you were back, when I was younger it didn’t take that long to get fit again either. 1996 was the first serious injury, I strained my heart running with a cold. The injury itself sounds worse than it was, it was a simple muscle strain, the muscle being the heart. Had I carried on at the time I could have caused a more serious outcome but as it was I took a break and allowed it time to fix itself. It took me a while to get back to fitness and even then I was nowhere near the form I had been in prior to injury. So I trained harder, I’d been in the form of my life in the autumn of 1996 and I wanted to get back there. Unfortunately training harder didn’t work, it just broke my foot, metatarsal to be exact. Fortunately, when I tried to come back, nine weeks later, it had been a really wet summer and I began my training in a waterlogged park. Amazingly, after only 5 weeks training I anchored Belgrave’s Surrey Road Relay team to win gold, and I earned that gold with a fantastic run, under the circumstances, to hold off a Herne Hill runner thought to be of similar ability to me.

That winter I got back close to where I’d been the previous winter, some great Surrey Leagues, a good performance at the Inter Counties cross country champs and even one of the faster legs at the South of England road relays. This was it Rog was back and about to set the running world on fire. Only I didn’t, in the spring I started to get calf pains, I tried to run through but after several weeks of on/off training I decided it was time to see a specialist. Without going into details I had a problem, in fact it wasn’t only one my whole body was a mess. The answer was to have an orthotic built. In the meantime I had to rest.

This was to become one of the longest breaks of my running career, to date, about five months. Luckily I was contracting at the time, on an hourly rate, so I could focus everything into my career and making the money that would see me through rainy days in the future. The problem had been so painful at times that I really couldn’t see myself coming back from this one, particularly after how hard I’d worked to come back the previous two times. I reviewed my time in running and decided that I couldn’t complain, I’d had a good run of it, achieving much more than I could have hoped for, if I had to give up now so be it, I’d find something else.

But I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet. After watching Belgrave struggle to get out a team in the Surrey road relays of 1998, a year after we had won the title, we couldn’t field 6 Surrey qualified runners, in fact we couldn’t even field 6 runners and failed to even finish a team. I rarely get angry or moody with running but that performance took the packet of biscuits out of my hand. I was the fattest and heaviest I’d ever been at eleven and a half stone but I made up my mind that Belgrave needed me and I needed running.

I started running again soon after, it was slow progress but I aimed to make my comeback at the County Cross Country champs in December. It wasn’t a good start, it rained persistently and the course featured a steep hill that had little grip on it. We went up it four times, I had to walk on two of those occasions. I finished 66^th, but I’d finished and I was only going to get better. A month later I was 52^nd in the last of that season’s Surrey league races. I probably would have been somewhere in the 60s if it hadn’t been for some loud Belgrave runner following me round that second lap shouting his head off at me to keep pushing, the only reason I pushed harder was to get away from the annoying sound of his voice. As it turned out, no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t shake off Will Cockerell and this would be the start of another great running relationship, but at least I beat him. It did take a while for my fitness to come back but by 2000 I was running well again, a 31:04 10k, my best for seven years, and I lined up for the Surrey 5000m convinced it was my time to win, after so many 2^nd and 3^rd places, and I was right up there, sitting on Stuart Major confident I would sweep past when I wanted to, and then it happened, my calf tore. I hobbled round for two laps before realising that carrying on would make things very bad.

I’ve kept coming back for more, retirement in 1998 would have been premature, I achieved much more after that, in fact I’ve continue to achieve in running. Last year, threw up another bad injury that has caused me no end of issues and caused me to lose a lot of the race fitness I had built up, yet I still won races and I still took medals. So far this year has been pretty poor by my previous standards, I’ve struggled through two very muddy cross country races and I’ve found my fitness lacking in the three road races I’ve taken part in. The thought of giving in is not so alien a concept but I’m not sure I’m ready to do it just yet. I’m thinking of trying a different sport, perhaps that will make the decision for me, but all I need is a good race and I’ll embrace running again. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, there are thousands of runners out there who I’m sure wish they could run as fast as I currently am, but I’m no longer enjoying pushing my body so hard and worse I hate turning up at races feeling indifferent, the sparkle, the desire, the passion, the confidence have all deserted me. How do I get them back, perseverance is the key, keep plugging away and maybe, just maybe I’ll find some of my old sparkle, perhaps all I need is a road relay, particularly one where I’m handed the lead.

Give up in 1998, just think how many road relays I would have missed, let alone won. Here I am in 2009 leading on leg 1 of the South of England Masters champs, the day after my brother's wedding, I wasn't even in good shape but relays bring out the best in me.

But if any of my running buddies are reading this, don’t worry the towel is still on the rail. I am running relatively pain free and, though a little slower than I would like, there is a flow to my running. Deep down I know I can’t just give up the running, I also know that, if I can stay injury free, the form will return and I’ll be back competing with my peers, I might even get that first victory over Rob Tudor. But I always wonder if one of these injuries will eventually call time on my running, and if it does, I will retire a happy man, having been a part of four great clubs, Belgrave, Herne Hill, Edinburgh and Salford – five if you count NatWest, when they were the best.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Giving and Taking Advice

2 Sept 1990 – a Sunday morning. I was at Belgrave Hall getting changed ready to run my first half marathon, the Wimbledon. I’d been running for a year and a half now and I’d improved some, my 5k pb had gone from 18:12 to 15:57, but I’d never run as far as a half marathon, not even in training. There was only one reason I’d entered, my girlfriend’s brother was running it and their parents were coming to watch him. Having tried hard to gain their respect for four years here was an opportunity to turn things around in one race. As I got changed there was the usual clubroom banter going on, between guys doing the half and other guys just there for their usual Sunday run.

Amid the banter one old guy came up to me and introduced himself as Charlie Dickinson. I’d never heard of Charlie, not surprising as he’d been travelling around the world since I’d joined Belgrave, but now he was back and about to show the Masters (or Veterans in those days) scene what he could do. But the one thing that stood out about Charlie was that he was full of advice, whether you wanted it or not. I was just trying to relax, enjoy myself and beat my girlfriend’s brother but Charlie kept on giving me snippets of advice I wasn’t really interested in, afterall my dad was old and I’d never listened to him, why should I listen to an old man I didn’t know. I told him I thought I could run 1:20 and he told me I should stay behind Fred as he was definitely going to run 1:20.

With Charlie’s advice firmly in my head I began the race, headed off without Fred and finished in 1:18.50. The last three miles had been hard work and I was knackered. I’d beaten my girlfriend’s brother by about 25 minutes, had I gained any parental respect, probably not as I suffered post race flatulence for the rest of the day and fell asleep mid afternoon. However I had gained a begrudging respect for Charlie, who didn’t abandon me, like I abandoned his race plan, and kept popping up at various places on the course to cheer me on. A year later I started training with Charlie, under the guidance of Arthur Bruce, by now I was a more willing recipient of his advice and we became great friends, how could you not with someone who runs his 5000m pb (15:14) at age 44.

As I improved I started dishing out advice in Charlie fashion, but after a while I realised that people didn’t want to be told what to do all the time, so I stopped. Of course I was happy to dish out advice but now I waited until I was asked. I generally follow that path still, though recently I can be accused of giving one of my Salford colleagues some advice he wasn’t asking for, his response reminded me of this tale.

But I often do give advice to people when they ask, naturally you can get advice from many different sources and often those sources will offer differing advice. That’s natural and it’s up to you to understand the advice and choose whichever course you feel is best for you. I did get annoyed with one client who I gave advice to, they then went to get advice off other sources and spent days questioning why my advice was different to theirs, but that’s another story.

Someone else I took advice from, when I was a beginner runner, was Belgrave’s John Mather, John’s recently opened up a group on Facebook ‘I was, or am a runner!’ There are some great pictures and cuttings being uploaded into the group, from many of Britain’s finest athletes of the past, some still going, worth a look if you can get it.

Moving onto more current times: it’s almost two weeks since I underwent a series of running firsts, it’s amazing how many there are available to me, despite all my years in running. The event was the Northern 12 Stage Road Relay, held at Heaton Park. It was the first time I’d taken part in the Northern event, having been a regular at the Southern event with Belgrave and Herne Hill previously. It was the first time I’d been in a 12 stage B team, when I previously hadn’t been good enough for the A team there was no B team entered, mind you on this particular occasion I’d have been happy to be in the C team. I also thought this was the first time I’d been the slowest short stage in the team during a 12 Stage, but on closer examination I realised I was the slowest in Belgrave’s National 12 Stage team that took Silver in 2004, though on that occasion I was still able to hold my head up with 3^rd fastest on the leg, the two guys faster than me, marginally, were from the two teams I was chasing (we were lying in 3^rd when I took over, and when I handed over), Kevin Quinn of AFD and Duncan Mason of Salford, Kevin I’ve known for many years, we trained together for a while, Duncan, I met for the first time proper at the Northern 12 Stage. Needless to say, on this occasion, I didn’t set the Salford tent alight with a scintillating time, but I did ok, most importantly I came through without making my injury any worse, though I did run into a rock on my warm up and suffered a painful bruised knee for about a week. Salford’s A team were always in the hunt and were just shy of the medals, coming 4^th. The B team were always up there challenging for a National qualification and were well placed with two legs to go, but then we went a man down, a disappointing end to a great day, but not one to dwell on.

Anyone know where leg 11 is?

2010 in the Herne Hill A Team, having a good run sweeping past the Belgrave athlete as I approached the Belgrave supporters, can't remember receiving any cheers for old time's sake!

After the race I went to Spain for a few days, a planned trip to try to sharpen up in the sunshine in anticipation of a National 12 Stage leg. Following our non qualification, my inability to really turn on the pace and the weather forecast, I was wishing we’d decided to go to the Lake District instead, for some serious walking. But as it turned out, the weather in Spain was great, whereas in Britain it was not, and my injury pains started to subside, thanks at last to all the hard physio related exercises I’ve been doing, and I was able to start running a bit faster. In fact, despite only being their four days I was able to train reasonably hard on three of them, the old Rog is coming back. In fact since I’ve returned from Spain my training has gone particularly well, I’m moving freely again, virtually without any pain and with a much improved pace, even on the short sharp reps. Now time to start planning my next race, I think.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Trafford 10k

21 February 2010 – I had a terrible night. I don’t know why, it was just one of those nights where you can’t get off to sleep. The next morning I was due to run the Trafford 10k, having been 1^st M45 at the Alsager 5 two weeks previous, running faster than I had 5 years earlier when I was 1^st M40, I was keen to see what I could do in a 10k. But, when my alarm went off, I felt rough as anything. I got out of bed all the same and went to the window, before me the road was covered in a thick layer of snow. We were renting in the countryside at the time, Hassall Green, there was no way the road would be clear by the time I needed to leave. I supposed the main roads would be clear but I knew the race was around country lanes too. Frankly I felt terrible and really didn’t feel like it, so I did something I rarely do, I decided to skip the race and go back to bed.

Later I heard the race had been rescheduled, due to the weather. The rescheduled event took place on 7 March. I’d had a good winter of training and a long period without injury so I was looking forward to my second bite at this particular cherry. Still new to Cheshire, having only been down since November 2009, I didn’t know many people and, being quite shy, I spent my time, before the race, relaxing with a book. It was a cool but sunny day, perfect for a race, and Chris Thompson, of European 10000m silver fame (though that was to come later in the year), took full advantage, setting a blistering pace from the start. His winning time of 28:02 was phenomenal and over 1 minute 30 seconds ahead of 2^nd place, pretty impressive in this strength of field. In 6^th place Andy Ward was also impressive, 1^st M40 in 30:22. Gary Priestley, prior to him joining Salford Harriers, was in 16^th, 31:46, just ahead of 1^st Salford Harrier, Simon Bruton, 18^th in 31:49 and two places further back was 1^st M45, Roger Alsop, still a Herne Hill Harrier, in 32:19. I’d had a great run, I was flying and best of all it felt so easy. But I couldn’t hang around to bask in any glory or try to make friends with the locals, I was due back in Sandbach to have lunch with the Foster’s, an old school friend and his family.

Move on four years and the Trafford 10k is now firmly established in March. I haven’t been able to run it since 2010, enforced holidays and injuries seemed to get in the way, but I’ve been wanting to for a while. This year the enforced holiday was early and I was keen to have a road race to focus on so I entered, and, in retaliation for all the enforced holidays, I entered Carole as well. I was really looking forward to the race, sure I knew I wasn’t anywhere near the shape I was in in 2010 but I felt I was just about getting over my injuries and starting to train reasonably well. However, then the injury and illness struck again.

Unable to train with any real quality, over the last three weeks, I set myself a realistic goal of trying to run sub 36 minutes. Seems an easy target to beat but considering most of my recent training has been carried out no quicker than 7 minute mile pace, maybe not so easy. That was my realistic goal, but I actually fancied trying to break 35 minutes. To cap it all, just as my hamstring was improving, I pulled it again on Friday night. Just a slight pull but enough to feel a twinge every time I sneezed, yep still sneezing….

Sunday was a glorious day, Carole and I were basking in the sunshine at the start of the 10k. What a change not to wear anything under my singlet, no hat or gloves either, I even got my sunglasses out. We were told to listen for a whistle and 3-2-1, but in reality they might as well have used a dog whistle it was so ineffective. I barely heard it and I was only about five rows back, Carole much further back didn’t hear it at all and thought there had been a false start. Anyway we were off.

Standing around tightly packed is never a great way to start a race, but even worse with tight hamstrings and I felt a slight pull as we started off, I knew it would be ok once I got going but my slow start meant I was swamped in the first k. Frankly I wasn’t too bothered though, I knew I’d pull through as the race progressed.

There were some great results; Nick McCormick was a runaway winner, showing his intent from the start, creating a gap early on, his time of 28:56 was 27 seconds faster than 2^nd place Ross Millington with Richard Weir just 10 seconds further back in 3^rd. Very impressively proving that age doesn’t have to mean decline, Andy Ward was again 1^st M40, two places higher than in 2010, 4^th, with a time 44 seconds quicker than in 2010, 29:38. Salford Harriers were well supported in the race with 21 runners and the usual group of supporters. Our number one on the day was Joe Bailey in 5^th place overall, with a time of 29:47. In 13^th place was Carl Hardman, just a day after finishing 32^nd in the Inter-Counties cross country champs, with a time of 30:41, with Josh Tighe 3^rd man in 36^th place, with a time of 31:57. Dave Lockett ran another great race, a week before the BMAF cross country champs, to take 1^st M45, finishing 48^th in a very impressive 32:48, just ahead of 3^rd M40 Glyn Billington, who set another pb of 32:51. My mate, Rob Tudor, who refused to give me a lift to the race because I have been critical of his musical tastes, was also impressive to take 2^nd M45 in 75^th with a time of 33:35. We also had 2^nd M55 with Phil Quibell and 1^st M65 with Stan Curran.

Myself, I was far from impressive with a race position of 133^rd and a time of 35:41 but I can’t get disappointed with that result, knowing what I know about how my body currently is, though I am disappointed that I’m unable to run properly without pain. Perhaps it’s time to take an enforced break to give my body time to fully repair, or, temptingly, try something else. I did feel disappointment during the race, not for myself, but when I caught and passed Ben Riddell during the last 2k. Ben’s a much younger and faster runner than me but he was jogging when I passed him, clearly something had gone wrong, I hope whatever it is will be fixed soon. As for Carole, in her first 10k for a number of years, she ran well, her chip time was under 57 minutes, which is not bad considering she only trains once or twice a week and the most she’s run in one go, over the last two years, is 5 miles. She was happy with that and I was happy the sun was shining, so off home we went to eat our mars bars and await the official results.

I knew I'd be slow so I picked this crafty disguise so nobody would recognise me - photo from Sid Sacks

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

The Cold War

As I wrote last week’s blog I had no idea what a horrible week I was about to endure. I mentioned, in the blog, I felt I had maybe been affected in the previous Saturday’s race and Sunday’s training by a cold coming on. At the time I wrote the blog it felt like something that would soon pass over, how wrong I was. I managed to run some fast quality reps on Tuesday night and I was looking forward to gradually increasing the pace as I try to make my mark on the 2014 road racing scene. But I was wrong, I awoke on Wednesday and my body had been taken over by this horrible virus. I was weak, I was coldy and I was struggling for breath.

I’m a great believer that getting out in the fresh air is of more benefit to you than sitting at home watching TV, dosing up on lemsips and feeling sorry for yourself, so I attempted an easy run. The attempt failed, it wasn’t easy in fact it was hard work running slow. Still hopeful that it was a temporary situation I attempted another go at an easy run on Thursday. It was no easier, in fact it was harder, so hard I think I might have enjoyed a run around Boggarts Hole Clough more, though it’s a close call. This time I abandoned the run early. I then made the decision to take a break from training.

With the pseudo mother-in-law visiting for the weekend this would give me a great opportunity to spend time with her, taking her for walks in the Cheshire countryside. Friday was a couple of hours up the river Weaver to Vale Royal Abbey and back, the fresh air did make me feel better but I was still struggling with a bunged up nose that evening. On Saturday I was working whilst Carole looked after her mum, so it was only little peeks at fresh air, but I was beginning to notice recovery was on the way.

Sunday we did a round trip to Shropshire, visiting places of historical note that I’d not visited before. It was a great opportunity to get some fresh air as we were restricted to how far we could walk by my cold and my pseudo m-i-l’s age.

The first place we aimed for was Telford, named after Thomas Telford, of iron bridge fame, or better known by me for having had some of the country’s finest road runners. We skirted around Telford as the bridge is actually in Ironbridge, now there’s a coincidence.    

It may look like just another bridge to you, but this one's famous.

I was pleasantly surprised with the place, I expected it to be an interesting bridge across the river, but the village is very attractive and houses lots of museums featuring the various industries that occupied the gorge the village is situated in. Sadly none of them appeared to be open on Sunday. We had a wander along the river and up the valley side a little and then it was off to the next place.

I wanted to go to Shrewsbury as I’d been told it was a nice place, but Much Wenlock is not far away from Ironbridge and, as the home of the Olympian Games, surely worth a visit from a modern day Olympic games watcher. I hadn’t actually expected there to be much in Wenlock but, again, I was surprised, another attractive village with a part Norman church and ruinous abbey, plus it had a museum, which had a good display about the Olympian Games.

Then onto Shrewsbury, birthplace of Charles Darwin and T’Pau. I even have a running friend in Shrewsbury, but I try not to impose my family on my running friends, nor my running friends on my family. A wander around the town revealed an attractive place, but it was a bit difficult finding your way in first time round, I could have used sat nav but that’s got me lost more times than Carole.

It's an evolutionary place is Shrewsbury

Yes Shrewsbury was nice but I’m glad we made a round trip of it instead of just a day trip to Shrewsbury, we’d seen everything in a couple of hours, but I will go back, given enough inducement.

With the weekend over and the pseudo m-i-l on her way back to an independence vote it was back to the running on Monday. Still suffering with the cold it was slow and steady. I’m improving daily but any ambitions for a good road race time will have to be put on hold for a while as I build up my fitness and my confidence.

Ah I hear you say, I thought this was a fitness blog, not a travel blog, and so it is. The message is clear, if you have a cold, get some fresh air, but don’t push yourself in training. I’ve run with a cold before and strained my heart doing so, it’s not worth it, this time I was sensible and put my ambition on hold, the cold won’t last but my ambition will. I’m playing the long game, what I can’t win this year I will have another shot at another year.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Nightmare on Boggarts Hole Clough – Part 2

Some sequels are better than the original, many are not. Nightmare on Boggarts Hole Clough – part 2 falls into the latter category. For starters there was a delay in it’s production, the sequel should have taken place around this time last year, but then I screwed up my achilles and the ongoing saga of that has been blogged about enough. After last year’s experience in the Manchester cross country league, I couldn’t find any positive reason for wanting to race cross country at Boggarts Hole Clough, but I do have this unendearing characteristic that makes me decide to take the hardest route towards my goal. Sometimes I despair of myself, and I feel sorry for Carole.

I’ve not had a great cross country season, in fact I’ve not even had a good one, I’d say it was fair to middling. That’s understandable considering all the problems I’ve had this last year. But I still have this desire to compete at cross country events. Mind you, my cross country background comes from mostly well drained 5 mile courses in the Surrey League. The Scottish East District League was also about 5 miles and the ground was relatively firm too. Here in the North West, with the exception of Heaton Park, all the courses seem to be waterlogged, slushy and muddy with lots of tight corners, plus they’re all 6 miles – that extra mile does make a difference if you’re not fit.

But, for reasons that are completely unclear, I turned up at Boggarts Hole Clough on Saturday, ready to race. Clearly everyone knows my feelings about running in mud, and at Boggarts Hole Clough in particular, as just about every Salford Harrier I talked to seemed surprised by my presence. Despite the mud, the cold, the damp, I was actually keyed up for the race, I’ve struggled with my race starts since buggering up my achilles, but I was determined to get away at the front of the field this time. In fact I was so much in my own little world, of fantasy race starts, that I completely missed Bev Simons winning the ladies race, only realising it was done when I saw three Salford ladies at the finish, with only four ladies having finished this was a great team result, particularly as there were only four Salford ladies competing today. Not only did they win the team event but they won the overall league title and Tania Hernandez won the individual title for first lady of the series. Well done ladies.

Then it was our time, disappointedly there were only three of us running for Salford, Stan Owen, myself and Albert Castile. This meant we wouldn’t finish a team in the senior event, four runners required, but, with an average age of over 50, we would have a masters team. After the obligatory starter’s chat we were off and I made a determined start, but it didn’t seem to matter, I was still swamped by youngsters. Despite the waterlogged conditions I wasn’t actually finding it tough to run on the top field, I just didn’t seem to have any pace to get up to the leaders. Still they were within sight and I was confident that I’d pull through the field as the race progressed. By the 2^nd lap of the top field I did feel I was in my stride, I’d pulled in some people but I seemed to be breathing a lot harder than I would have expected, for the pace I was running. I put it down to having to work harder to pull my feet though the mud. The 2^nd lap of the top field marked the 1^st big lap, that incorporated the bit that went through the woods. That was the bit I struggled on last year, but I was keen to do myself justice. The first bit through the woods didn’t seem as bad as last year, more runny than glutinous but then we arrived at a steep downhill and I started slithering all over the place. Wary of my lack of grip and deciding I didn’t really want to go A over T I slowed right down and virtually walked down the hill. This created a big gap ahead of me and allowed others to catch me up. As I set off again, nearly falling over on numerous occasions on my way back through the woods to the top field, I briefly had the desire to pull out, but a little Rog inside my head told me not to be a wimp, run slowly if need be, don’t worry about where you finish, but don’t pull out. Logic said I was already covered in mud so I might as well earn a position for my time and washing machine. I carried on, with team mate Albert Castile harrying me to the start of the last lap.

Stan Owen, usually a very quick starter, had got away from me at the start. The same thing happened at the last league race and I was only able to catch him in the final 300m, this time I had no chance of catching him, I couldn’t even see him. He ran another good race to finish in 20^th position and win the overall M60 title. But I didn’t have time to worry about Stan as Albert strode confidently past me just as we started the last lap. If we’d finished in those positions I would have been the last Salford Harrier, I wasn’t about to let that happen, without a fight. Albert had pulled up on me during the tricky wooded part of the course so I knew I had to build up a gap on the top field. I tried to concentrate on relaxing and getting my legs to turn over better, it worked a bit, though I was still finding my breathing heavier than I should. Back into the woods I’d built up a bit of a gap on Albert. This time I found it easier to navigate my way through the muddy wood, only half walking down the hill. It was enough, though only just, as I finished in 28^th, one place and 21 seconds ahead of Albert.

The whole race had been another nightmare for me, I really struggled and at the end I was exhausted, even though I didn’t feel like I deserved to be, at no point had I felt like I was really running competitively. It had been my worst position, ever, in the South East Lancs league, 28^th and 4^th M45 (despite the only M45s to have beaten me in the series not being present, nor the one who finished just behind me on both occasions). In fact, on my previous excursion to BHC I had finished 27^th in a much tougher field of the Manchester League. Despite my disastrous run, we still ended up coming overall 2^nd M40 team and, overall, I finished 14^th Senior man and 2^nd M45.

At night my mate Rob Tudor invited me to join him for a training run the following morning, I was a bit unsure, thinking I’d be stiff and slow after my race, but in the end he persuaded me. I was stiff and slow and I was also struggling with my breathing again, I put it down to not being relaxed because of all the aches. However waking up this (Monday) morning it is clear all is not well in the Alsop body. A number of my clients have been going down with colds over the last two weeks and I finally came down with my version of it. I was sneezing and wheezing when I got up, felt a bit better after breakfast but when I tried running I struggled with fatigue, my breathing wasn’t right and I nearly threw up after only 4 minutes of easy running. At least I had the good sense to cut my run short. Maybe that explains why I was breathing heavier than I should have been in the race. That’s it for me, as far as cross country is concerned, for this season. I’m keen to start running in road races, where I’m sure I’ll fare much better. But for those who’s season continues, good luck in the National, next weekend.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk

Running in Vietnam

I’ve just come back from two weeks in Vietnam and I’ve had a fantastic holiday, but why Vietnam? My knowledge of the country is pretty scant, based mainly on what I’ve read and watched with respect to the wars with France and America, but I was aware that it has started to become a popular destination and it does have some pretty good beaches. One of my ex-bosses went a few years ago and she was pretty enthusiastic about the place, so it was one of those places I fancied trying, it was just a case of whether it was the right place for Carole and I to visit, and when. So when Carole said she wanted to take me away for my birthday present, Vietnam sprang to mind. We considered it, alongside other places; Thailand, the Caribbean and Florida, but eventually, thanks to the glowing review from one of Carole’s colleagues, we plumped for Vietnam, and I’m so glad we did.

Before we went I did a bit of research, the place we stayed at when we went to India, last year, was not a suitable venue for outdoor running, so it was a good place to be with an achilles injury, that restricted walking, let alone running. This year, despite ongoing niggles, I was hoping to run. My research told me that Ho Chi Minh City, where we were going to spend the first two nights, was not a great place to run, though it was possible. No problem, I’d already decided I was going to take a three day break from running, to try to help my niggles to go away. The second resort, Hoi An, appeared to be flat and, on google maps, it looked like there was a long straight road by the hotel, perfect for doing reps along, I thought. So setting off I was confident I’d be able to get in some good training during my holiday, not forgetting that it was actually a holiday.

25 January was the date of departure, I was looking forward to arriving, though the fact our flight was overnight meant I wasn’t looking forward to the journey itself. I had options for the morning, I could do the inaugural Warrington parkrun, I was tempted, but, frankly, I couldn’t be bothered, the niggles told me it would just be another disappointing run, and getting up that bit earlier would have made a long day, with the overnight flight. So I did my own fartlek course in Kingsmead instead and managed a pretty decent session, to set me up for a nice break.

It was a long flight from Manchester to Ho Chi Minh City, via Dubai, we left on Saturday evening and arrived on Sunday evening (day 1 of my rest period taken care of). I was so stiff, all over, the first flight had been ok but the second one felt so much more cramped. Day 1 in HCMC and we did a walk around the city, quite an interesting city, especially with all the decorations being set up for Tet, but very scary crossing the wide roads, with mopeds coming at you from all angles, it seems in this part of the world it doesn’t matter which side of the road you drive on, you aren’t required to stop for pedestrian crossings or traffic lights, perhaps a little exaggeration but a large percentage drive that way. Surprisingly, over 14 days we only saw one road traffic accident. Long walk over it was back to the hotel for dinner and packing ready for our trip to Hoi An, the next day.

Get away from the traffic and enjoy some nice architecture in HCMC

Day 3 of the holiday and the last day of my self-induced rest, a long trip to Hoi An, due to flight delays, and when we got there it was a bit overcast and a little chilly. Mind you it was now evening so we got changed and took a bus into the town proper, about 5k away. What a buzz, the town was full of life and colour for the Tet celebrations, Tet wasn’t until the weekend but it’s celebrated for up to two weeks, the two weeks we were there. We ventured into the town briefly on a number of days and every evening for dinner, it was a great place with some interesting buildings, but over the four days around the New Year it was a bit unbearable due to the sheer volume of people. Still it was worth venturing in for the quality of the restaurants.

Tranquility: view of the pool and sea from our room.

And the beach isn't bad either

Day 4 and it was time to resume running, three days rest and I was still a little stiff, as I set off my left glute was pulling (it had been my right one in the USA). It eased out before 6 minutes and I set off on my standard holiday 1,2,3 run. Not having travelled down the pavements before (roads were just a bit too full of mopeds) I took it a little steadier than I normally would, watching out for uneven slabs, people, holes in the ground, dogs, cattle and mopeds (yes they had a habit of coming onto the pavement just in front of you and I had to take rapid avoidance measures on more than one occasion). The previous night I’d met an American couple, he had been running and got bitten by a dog, that had ruined a part of their holiday as he sought treatment to prevent rabies, so I was intent on keeping well clear of all the dogs, there were a lot but they were of the yappy sort, still a nip would have still meant being treated for possible rabies, an unpleasant prospect compared to lounging by the hotel pool.

The next day my achilles was sore and with the heat starting to get to you after 20 minutes of running I decided to keep it short, 16 x 1 min with 30 secs recovery. I found it pretty hard work and my achilles was really sore at the end. With this in mind I decided to skip the run the next day and instead did one of my 45 minute PT sessions. Meanwhile, on the beach, Carole had reignited her passion for running and was running for longer than I was, I’ve entered her for a 10k so it’s time she pulled her running socks up. She had found the beach more to her liking than the busy roadside, you still had to avoid dogs and cattle but there were no mopeds.

Back to the 1,2,3 and the 16 x 1 minute for me over the next two days, but I’d taken a leaf out of Carole’s book and did it on the beach. On the second day we hired bikes, they weren’t very comfortable and there was something wrong with the setup on mine, I should have given it a once over but I was keen to get into the countryside. By that evening I could hardly walk, my left knee, the cause of many breaks in training over the years, was aching. I’m not sure if it was the bike, the beach or a combination of the two, but I was worried that was the end of any holiday running. The next day I treated myself to a 30 minute PT session.

Having the day off running seemed to help and the following day I was back into it, though I’d decided to just run out and back at a nice easy pace. I avoided the beach and when we did go out cycling I made sure the bike was set up better.

I started to take age and body issues into consideration now, knowing I’m no longer the youthful 47 year old who could do back to back sessions I decided I’d alternate between steady runs and reps. It was getting hotter every day and the 3 minute reps were feeling quite tough, so I decided to stick to the 1 minute reps. After all I was on holiday, the hard work can wait.

Finally, something older and more of a ruin than me - My Son

On the penultimate day I did my longest run, still only 40 minutes, less than Carole’s longest run, she’s a machine when she gets on a beach, and then, on the last day, I felt I was beginning to motor on my 1 minute reps, just in time to go home and start to ratchet the training up.

Long flight home, we were on the cramped plane to Dubai, by the time I got off in Dubai I was limping again, I was thinking I’d probably need to take more time off when I got home, however, arriving in Manchester, in a roomier plane, I didn’t feel so bad and could walk with barely a limp.

Over the next few days I was stiff, I decided to just run long runs, 8.5-10 miles and run reps with clients. However a couple of days of that and I realised I was just constantly stiff, so I booked in with Mike for some bioresonance. Luckily Mike was available at short notice, the next day I felt much freer when I was running, I was flowing again and I ran the 8.5 mile run two minutes quicker than two days previously, despite the stiff wind. I still have a few aches but I feel so much better, I’m off to see Mike again next week for a further booster.

So what did I think of Vietnam, lovely country, very affordable, fantastic food, friendly people (on the whole), extreme road crossing capability required and not the best place to run fast, though if you want to you can. We didn’t pick up any illnesses, despite eating salads and having ice in our drinks, no dog bites, though one almost got me, and no random attacks by cattle feeding off the plants growing on the roadsides. All in all a great trip, I’d go back.

Written by Roger Alsop

www.rogeralsop.co.uk