Monday, February 26, 2007
Belvoir Challenge; Event Report
Whew! I am aching so-o-o much!! Guess it’s time for a report on the Belvoir Challenge…
… it was muddy! Three main types of mud… the glutinous, slippery slidey kind that causes you to slither all over the place, often with huge puddles for added effect, the kind that sucks you in so that you have to pull your feet out with a large squelch at every step, and the kind that clumps around your feet with each step until your feet get heavier and heavier and you feel like a cart horse.
It’s a big event… over 800 people were doing the 15 mile route, and around 200 doing the 26 mile. After a welcome cuppa, banana and toilet stop, I manage to get near to the front of the field at the starting line; the two routes followed the same path for 400 metres before splitting and I didn’t want to get stuck behind everybody. In hindsight I should have been further back, as as soon as the starting horn sounded I had runners practically climbing over me in their efforts to get by!
Threatening rain!
I am following a chap in a red jacket; he climbs a stile and then collapses on the ground clutching his leg! Luckily, he’s not injured, just suffering cramp, and quickly recovers and strides off into the distance. I keep passing and are then passed by a few ladies who are alternatively walking and jogging.
The next checkpoint is Croxton Kerrial, at 11 miles. I’m ready for a cuppa and stop for a coffee and sandwiches. The organisers wisely tape vast quantities of cardboard over the floor at all checkpoints! There are also yummy home made cakes and flap jacks, I pick a large piece which turns out to be two stuck together- but don’t complain!
As I leave, I catch up with one of the ladies walk/ jogging, and chat with her for a bit. She lives in London, and has come up just for the event. She is slightly slower than me, which always leaves me in a dilemma- is it rude to leave folk you’re talking with and push on? We overtake a group of lads who are training for a 60 mile event, and she drops back; We get our first view of Belvoir Castle perched on a hill top with a commanding view of the Vale, and walk up the ancient Sewstern Lane to reach the next checkpoint; Woolsthorpe at 15 miles.
Belvoir Castle
From the on it’s fairly open country, and I can see walkers spread out ahead and behind. It’s tough going walking through mud, I’ve heard several people say it’s a harder route than last year- it’s certainly muddier and hillier! My legs are just waking up to the fact that it’s a long one, and I can feel a couple of potential blister spots on my feet.
As we walk uphill and join the point were the 15 mile route joins, I catch up with a chap who turns out to be the organiser of the Ponton Plod- I congratulate him on this considerable achievement and promise to do it again this year! I feel myself getting quite tired now, and it seems ages to the last checkpoint. The route takes us straight down a very steep bank and through yet more mud. We walk through Branston, and I’m convinced we’ve actually missed the checkpoint!
But we haven’t- and after negotiating the Iron Staircase- which is, quite literally, an iron staircase, as the name suggests, guiding the way down a steep bank (an escalator would have been more welcome, but there you go!) we pass a yappy Jack Russell terrier not quite brave enough to attack, and reach the last checkpoint at Eaton- 21.6 miles. I decide to rest up for a few minutes and have a cuppa- it’s quite entertaining watching folks try to walk at this stage, and quite encouraging that there’s still quite a lot to come through (I’m not last!!!)
I heave my aching bones up and leave the checkpoint just behind the Ponton Plod guy, as it’s just starting to get duskish, It will be nice to finish before dark, but if not, never mind… I can always use my head torch… except- damn! I have actually forgotten to bring the damn thing!! Guess that means I have to finish in daylight! Luckily the route follow a nice level track- going downhill!- and I manage to break into a gentle jog, overtake one of the other walk/ joggers and almost catch up with Mr Ponton Plod. We reach Stathern, with about 2 miles still to go, just as cars are switching their headlights on.
Great! I’m going to do this! Legs aching, feet hurting… but not too bad! This is ok… until we enter a field which is just literally a sea of the most glutinous, slippy mud! I am trying to hurry as by now the light is fading fast, but this has the unfortunate effect of wrenching my feet sufficiently to pull on my blister, and for a split second I can’t move for the sudden shock of pain. Luckily Mr PP is now too far away to hear my language!
I manage to hobble on- for some reason by toes are killing me too- and get to a track, which, to my dismay, turns out to be just as muddy as the field. I slosh and slide my way down it, desperately trying to take advantage of the last vestiges of day light. Finally, the route turns down the track we came up at the start of the day, and I see the lights of the village in the distance and gratefully stumble towards them.
As I walk/ hobble through the village I ring mum, who seems quite impressed. I stumble into the village hall and a young boy hands me my certificate- 9 hours and 10 minutes. That’s 11 minutes slower than last year… but I did stop for coffee at the last checkpoint… and it was a harder route, everybody said so… yep, I can justify with the best of ‘em!
I choose a bowl of bread and butter pudding, and pour custard liberally over it. As I eat, the London lady comes in, followed by the group of lads. I hear several people say their GPS clocked the route at 28 miles, so who knows…
It was a good day, though, as always! And a welcome, if muddy, first walk of the year. Wasn’t quite such fun cleaning my shoes though!! I ended up doing a walk yesterday with a friend too- we went round Watermead Country Park, which is close to me and flat. Still, we must have covered about 6 miles. Did a bit of fence traversing too, as the path was flooded. (fence traversing; the art of climbing onto a fence, and shuffling along it, until you are safely past the obstruction. Doesn’t do much for your street cred, however, especially if, like my mate, you are clutching a small handbag)
NO exercise today!!!
My shoes!!!
… it was muddy! Three main types of mud… the glutinous, slippery slidey kind that causes you to slither all over the place, often with huge puddles for added effect, the kind that sucks you in so that you have to pull your feet out with a large squelch at every step, and the kind that clumps around your feet with each step until your feet get heavier and heavier and you feel like a cart horse.
It’s a big event… over 800 people were doing the 15 mile route, and around 200 doing the 26 mile. After a welcome cuppa, banana and toilet stop, I manage to get near to the front of the field at the starting line; the two routes followed the same path for 400 metres before splitting and I didn’t want to get stuck behind everybody. In hindsight I should have been further back, as as soon as the starting horn sounded I had runners practically climbing over me in their efforts to get by!
The Start!
Luckily the routes split, and typically enough, ours goes down the boggiest, muddiest track. Luckily though this gave way to a decent track, it did give rain all day but we were jammy enough to get away with just the odd blustery splatter and even some sun.
The first checkpoint’s at Goadby Marwood, one of the many pretty villages in the Vale of Belvoir. The food is always good on this event- brown bread cheese and pickle sarnies, and my favourite; cold rice pudding! We pass quickly through, and then onwards- through the villages of Chadwell, Waltham and Bescaby, plus, of course, loads more muddy tracks, fields and hills. Any semblance of attempting to keep dry and clean quickly goes out of the window at this point!
Threatening rain!I am following a chap in a red jacket; he climbs a stile and then collapses on the ground clutching his leg! Luckily, he’s not injured, just suffering cramp, and quickly recovers and strides off into the distance. I keep passing and are then passed by a few ladies who are alternatively walking and jogging.
The next checkpoint is Croxton Kerrial, at 11 miles. I’m ready for a cuppa and stop for a coffee and sandwiches. The organisers wisely tape vast quantities of cardboard over the floor at all checkpoints! There are also yummy home made cakes and flap jacks, I pick a large piece which turns out to be two stuck together- but don’t complain!
As I leave, I catch up with one of the ladies walk/ jogging, and chat with her for a bit. She lives in London, and has come up just for the event. She is slightly slower than me, which always leaves me in a dilemma- is it rude to leave folk you’re talking with and push on? We overtake a group of lads who are training for a 60 mile event, and she drops back; We get our first view of Belvoir Castle perched on a hill top with a commanding view of the Vale, and walk up the ancient Sewstern Lane to reach the next checkpoint; Woolsthorpe at 15 miles.
Belvoir CastleFrom the on it’s fairly open country, and I can see walkers spread out ahead and behind. It’s tough going walking through mud, I’ve heard several people say it’s a harder route than last year- it’s certainly muddier and hillier! My legs are just waking up to the fact that it’s a long one, and I can feel a couple of potential blister spots on my feet.
As we walk uphill and join the point were the 15 mile route joins, I catch up with a chap who turns out to be the organiser of the Ponton Plod- I congratulate him on this considerable achievement and promise to do it again this year! I feel myself getting quite tired now, and it seems ages to the last checkpoint. The route takes us straight down a very steep bank and through yet more mud. We walk through Branston, and I’m convinced we’ve actually missed the checkpoint!
But we haven’t- and after negotiating the Iron Staircase- which is, quite literally, an iron staircase, as the name suggests, guiding the way down a steep bank (an escalator would have been more welcome, but there you go!) we pass a yappy Jack Russell terrier not quite brave enough to attack, and reach the last checkpoint at Eaton- 21.6 miles. I decide to rest up for a few minutes and have a cuppa- it’s quite entertaining watching folks try to walk at this stage, and quite encouraging that there’s still quite a lot to come through (I’m not last!!!)
I heave my aching bones up and leave the checkpoint just behind the Ponton Plod guy, as it’s just starting to get duskish, It will be nice to finish before dark, but if not, never mind… I can always use my head torch… except- damn! I have actually forgotten to bring the damn thing!! Guess that means I have to finish in daylight! Luckily the route follow a nice level track- going downhill!- and I manage to break into a gentle jog, overtake one of the other walk/ joggers and almost catch up with Mr Ponton Plod. We reach Stathern, with about 2 miles still to go, just as cars are switching their headlights on.
Great! I’m going to do this! Legs aching, feet hurting… but not too bad! This is ok… until we enter a field which is just literally a sea of the most glutinous, slippy mud! I am trying to hurry as by now the light is fading fast, but this has the unfortunate effect of wrenching my feet sufficiently to pull on my blister, and for a split second I can’t move for the sudden shock of pain. Luckily Mr PP is now too far away to hear my language!
I manage to hobble on- for some reason by toes are killing me too- and get to a track, which, to my dismay, turns out to be just as muddy as the field. I slosh and slide my way down it, desperately trying to take advantage of the last vestiges of day light. Finally, the route turns down the track we came up at the start of the day, and I see the lights of the village in the distance and gratefully stumble towards them.
As I walk/ hobble through the village I ring mum, who seems quite impressed. I stumble into the village hall and a young boy hands me my certificate- 9 hours and 10 minutes. That’s 11 minutes slower than last year… but I did stop for coffee at the last checkpoint… and it was a harder route, everybody said so… yep, I can justify with the best of ‘em!
I choose a bowl of bread and butter pudding, and pour custard liberally over it. As I eat, the London lady comes in, followed by the group of lads. I hear several people say their GPS clocked the route at 28 miles, so who knows…
It was a good day, though, as always! And a welcome, if muddy, first walk of the year. Wasn’t quite such fun cleaning my shoes though!! I ended up doing a walk yesterday with a friend too- we went round Watermead Country Park, which is close to me and flat. Still, we must have covered about 6 miles. Did a bit of fence traversing too, as the path was flooded. (fence traversing; the art of climbing onto a fence, and shuffling along it, until you are safely past the obstruction. Doesn’t do much for your street cred, however, especially if, like my mate, you are clutching a small handbag)
NO exercise today!!!
My shoes!!!
Labels: Challenge walks, running
