But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize.

Things are getting really creepy these days. I run but aim to distance myself from others by as much distance as possible. Other ‘new to jogging’ joggers, walkers, dog walkers and cyclists seem to think they have all the room for right of way and I, and other runners, seem to have to take the lower ground and take their chances running in the middle of the road and do their best to avoid traffic. You even get couples walking side by side while considerate drivers hopefully give us runners a wide berth. Give an inch and make a friend is a popular saying amongst peloton cyclists.

I’m now furloughed which will mean I’ll have more time to train for running rather than work for the man, or rest my weary bones. It seems the older I get, the harder I’m expected to work and the less I get paid. If you like marmalade, curd or jam, I’m your man.

• 

I must admit that at the moment the days are quite short. My daily pattern is waking early, between 6 and 7am, listen to the news and views and then fall back to sleep awakening several times but eventually getting out of bed with the realisation that I need to run at around 1pm. Not really any reason to get up earlier. Plenty of time for all the washing up and clothes washing to have clean running kit. A priority. So I now tend to run during the warmest and most populated time of the day. I loved running later at 8pm. It was quieter, more picturesque with the setting sun on the horizon and cooler temperatures. Tea, or breakfast, and watch crap telly, a few beers, fall asleep and eventually go to bed between 2 and 4am. And then do it all over again.

Rereading this, I really should use this valuable time wisely. I’m in the middle of two half read books which I could finish. I should try some You Tube Pilates and core and strength exercises. I have online England Athletics courses I could do. I’ve already completed a Mental Health in Sport course and the Harriers are part of England Athletics ClubRun support initiative. More of that later when the sessions begin. I could learn creative writing so hopefully this dirge may be more entertaining. Plenty of scope if only I could get my lazy butt into gear but it’s only been one week of six weeks furloughed so there is time for absolution.

The Harriers have come up with a few challenges to keep us all occupied during these days of Covid-19 isolation. April had a month of varying disciplines, May has Miles for Mind where you set yourself a mileage challenge for the month and be rewarded with a medal and raise money for Mind charity. We also have the brilliant Rainbow Challenge set by Kelly Sherriff. Where we have to wear a different colour of the rainbow tee shirt everyday. Monday is red, Tuesday is orange, Wednesday is yellow, Thursday is green, Friday is blue, Saturday is indigo/purple and Sunday violet/pink. Each night she posts a collage picture of all those wearing the appropriate shirt. Another reason why I can’t run too late! Friday is the online virtual pub quiz. And, we are now on Twitter. It has been fabulous to see how well supported all these challenges have been. At least I some time to think about a challenge for June.

Postscript

Last week we learnt of the sad death of founder member, Brian Beale. He held the club together during the times when interest in running and membership was low. I’m sure he would be very pleased how Burnham-on-Sea Harriers has flourished over the last couple of years and the visions we have for the future. RIP Brian.

We now live in the most worrying times since World War II. Coronavirus, Covid-19, has become pandemic and social distancing of at least 2 metres have become the norm. I’m quite a tactile person. I love to congratulate other runners on great achievements with a comment or a hug but these days it has become impossible.

We live in strange times when to social distance from a dog walker us runners can run in the middle of the road without fear to avoid traffic because mostly it’s not there, or Dare thanks Shaun Ryder and Gorillaz.

Motivation is so difficult. It seems racing won’t commence until September at the earliest and those training runs may become less and less vital. But, they are. Keep going. Keep running as long as the Government guidelines suggest it’s wise, healthy, and possible to. Try and continue those long Sunday morning runs throughout these days and you WILL feel the benefits in the Autumn and beyond. Try some faster running even if it’s only lamppost fartlek. One session a week will suffice. Post on social media and others will give you kudos to encourage you. Wave and speak to other runners that you see out will give you and, hopefully, them a buzz.

So many runners have been training very diligently for Spring marathons, half marathons and prestigious 10ks, like Bristol 10k. We’ve all had the disappointment of races and training runs cancelled by a succession of storms that have battered the UK in the early months of this sad year and now this. I admit that I’ve been very lucky as my Spring goal race was the 20 mile Grizzly and that went ahead.

All the races that I’ve entered through until June have been cancelled so Autumn is likely to be busy if they are all close to each other and then there is the Autumn races which are so popular. Many race organisers aren’t offering refunds which is a real shitter because you may have to decide which race to drop and of course finisher’s memento comes into the equation. Medal or tee shirt, etc. That brings us to another consideration, virtual races. These have to be a real motivation to run just as challenges on Strava and other apps.

Mental health is of critical priority during this time. Running provides a baseline. It gives us normality. Running is really inherent as it gives some release from the pressures that work and life bring and worries about family and friends. Many people are home working or furloughed therefore to get out smell the fresh spring air and actually see another human being is important. Temperatures are rising and the sunshine is so tempting but, please, continue the two metres guidelines and run in your locality in a safe area and not drive to a location which may not be safe.

The word unprecedented has been used a lot recently but it is appropriate now. In my lifetime I’ve never experienced anything like life at the moment. I was pooing myself in the late 60s/early 70s over the Vietnam war and then a decade later over the Falklands Conflict and AIDS. We have the resilience as long as we adhere to social conscience and respect to others to reduce NHS to manageable levels.

Be Safe.

Clampdown © The Clash

The voices in your head are calling
Stop wasting your time, there’s nothing coming
Only a fool would think someone could save you
The men at the factory are old and cunning
You don’t owe nothing, boy, get runnin’
It’s the best years of your life they want to steal

I was called into the work’s conference room today. I was instructed to sit down at the opposite end of table facing the General Manager. It was like one of those film scenes where a rich old man sits at one end of a dining table while his young wife sits at the other. To my right, the Production Manager and number 2. Needless to say we were a minimum of 6 feet apart.

‘Clive, do you have an underlying illness that you feel we should be aware of?’ asked the GM. ‘I have a very small patience thereshold where you’re concerned’, I thought. ‘Yes’, I replied. ‘Yes, I have asthma’, I replied politely. I thought he should have been aware of this as I have missed many days of work with related respiratory illness such as bronchitis. ‘I’m worried about my health during this uncertain period of Coronavirus’, I added.

What followed simply took my breath away.

GM said ‘You may think it’s only jam but if we can’t supply Fortnum and Mason their customers will go to Waitrose, and their customers will go to Sainsburys’ At this point I thought that he might as well been talking in Spock’s native tongue of Vulcanese as I’ve never even set foot inside these stores let alone bought anything from them. ‘Eventually’, he continued down the food chain, ‘the poorest people won’t be able to buy jam’.

‘Do you remember when you were younger and your mum used to make you jam sandwiches when you came home from school?’ he carried on. Vaguely before my mum’s stroke that left her paralysed down her right side and loss of speech and, Ah, those rose tinted days of Tiswas, dehydrated orange juice and playing out late until it got dark. This got me thinking about self isolation and Bruce Springsteen’s track ’57 Channels (and nothin’ on)’ which laments the standards of 20th century television and nothing has changed.

The pain across my shoulders, through the back of my neck and up through my head was excruciating which made me sit even more uncomfortably in my chair. ‘The lowest paid have to do all the working’, GM said. But can the lowest paid do some living before the dying.

That’s pretty much the highlights. I didn’t get to say much more as I wasn’t really allowed to interrupt or dare tell him that I’m as nutty as a fruit cake and been taking meds for nearly 10 years. Maybe he should walk/run a mile or 20 over the muddiest terrain in the South West in my shoes.

I didn’t exercise my right to exercise this evening.

Sorry that’s it’s not really about running but I needed to sound off. Be safe for you, your friends, your family and everybody.

The Grizzly was a week ago and I’ve had a week off work for maintenance reasons and now us runners have to confront Coronavirus or Covid-19 as a block to our racing. Storms Dennis, Ciara and Jorge have prevented us from training and racing previously. Now, London Marathon as well as every other provincial race, have been postponed in a panic as football, rugby, cricket in a foreign field have been also as well as every other sport or pastime. Schools are closed and panic buyers have stripped the shelves everywhere.

I’ve been running slow training miles recently but that is cool. I’ve been running social miles to help others to run a little quicker. If I run with a group and they run 10 seconds a mile quicker, they feel a little better about themselves and are able to run faster and I’m satisfied. Me, I’m not too bothered as I’ve done something to contribute and would love to see others reach their potential. It’s a nurturing/mentoring thing and it makes my heart glad, really.

I struggled around the Tuesday Harriers club run when I’d rather lie in a warm bath reading, or reflecting on the day and thinking about a plate of baked potatoes, beans and gammon. As club captain, I try to plan a safe route, recce it and keep it interesting which is pretty bloody difficult as we basically have 3 routes so it’s the shimmys that make the difference and the run funky.

March was to be a busy month racing wise, especially with all the previous month’s storm postponements. The Grizzly 20 miler with all that mud, and now, this week, a headtorch 10k staged at Taunton and Pickering Golf Club on a Saturday evening after a park run. I do love headtorch racing. It is such fun, sadly Kelly ‘I shot the’ Sherriff couldn’t make it due to illness but I’d love to join her with one later in the year. This one was organised by Flying FoxRunning. I’ve ran their races before and they put on a great event

Road trip; Mark Benton drove, navigated by wifie, Tracey, backseat driven by Madame Pompomadour and me. We were to pick up Billie-Jo Hopley on route, because sadly, Paula had joined our unwell list. It was a good to know Paula hadn’t misinterpreted about Billie-Jo’s age on her race application. Conversion was it’s usual colourful nature but appropriate for Billie-Jo’s tender years, and she probably knew better than us ‘adults’.

It was a relief the race was still going ahead. It had been originally scheduled for February but cancelled due to storms and now with Coronavirus decimating sport all over Europe and the UK, it takes a brave administration to keep events going. Strange as running and fresh air are supposed to be healthy and good for you.

The event consisted of a 4km race, a 7km race and a 10km race and participants could run all, one or two of them. The representing Harriers, including Jon Jacobs, were here only for the long 10km race. The race was delayed some 30 minutes due to slower 7 km runners finishing and the ‘hanging around’ at the start wasn’t doing much for my, or any bodies, nerves. I knew from experience that running around a golf course would be easy with good tracks but, however, running on the trails just away from said golf course would be full of potential hazards, and this proved the case.

I started midfield, as not to go off too quickly, and was running well and overtaking until…the first real muddy section when I lost a shoe. This really pulled my chain. I had ran the 20 mile Grizzly the previous week and only lost my patience and now in the FIRST kilometre I had to prise my shoe out of sticky mud and it cost me a couple of minutes. Trying to untie triple knotted laces caked in mud and squeeze an equally muddy socked foot back in with cold hands guided only by a headtorch is pretty near impossible. I was a little peeved and found myself running with the Canicross runners, who started after the main pack.

I gradually picked up some places over the twisting, ascending and descending I overtook a fallen warrior in Mark Benton. Literally a fallen warrior. He looked like he’d been swimming through the mud and then Billie-Jo, who was having a terrific race. I just knew her light steps with a smiling face were loving the run. Back onto the golf course after 9 kms and feeling the breeze. The ground under foot felt uneasy to run on either after the mud and cambers. I overtook more runners and one dared to attack me near the finish but used my experience to fend him off and finished with a tasty piece of banana cake.

Shivering at the finish with Madame and Billie-Jo, I decided to use the facilities. I used to be a Night Manager at a golf course in Tewkesbury and I knew no changing room and showering facilities in the World matched that of a golf clubs. I was more than pleased to spread as much mud everywhere as possible and indeed I did. I was followed by Mark Benton, who I hoped did the same. Tracey B used the ladies but I’ll leave you to your own ‘Flake chocolate commercial imaginations’. Obviously, not to say the lovely Tracey B is not crumbly, but probably 75% chocolatey and 25% flakey.

It’s probably the last race I’ll run before the Autumn due to Coronavirus Covid-19 and by then many things will have changed. Thanks for your love and support. It’s been a gas.

• 

Welcome back, my friends
to the show that never ends.
We’re so glad you could attend!
Come inside! Come inside!

The ever organised person, who I’m not, had the forethought to recce the Harriers Tuesday night run on Friday therefore leaving Monday free for lounging. Sunday was Grizzly day. The Grizzly is a gently meandering and slightly undulating 20 mile jog around the coastal paths, through bogs and river crossings in South Devon. My preparation for races always including an easy run the day before, if only to boost my own confidence. It used to be 5-8 miles around the ‘idyllic’ roads of Tewkesbury, floods permitting, but nowadays is the wonderfully organised Burnham and Highbridge park run. 5km of park and esplanade. Cheery smiling, hungover faces with the occasional canine or child. It was International Woman’s Day this weekend so the theme was…6 Nations Rugby no, International Woman’s Day and the park run was a ladies takeover. Maybe it should have been men doing that for the women but hey ho. 492 runners, joggers and walkers took part and I swear 2/3 were women, well it seemed like it.

With apologies to Gordon Lightfoot. My version of The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald. I thank you. By now you would probably notice I like to add a musical reference. So hear (sic!) it goes.

The legend lives on from South Devon downs
Of the cult race they called The Grizzly
The Grizzly, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of March turn gloomy
With a load of runners in awe a couple of thousand or more
Without breakfast Clive Baker weighed empty
That good runner and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of March came early

BoS Harriers was the pride on the Somerset tide
Coming back from some run we ran in
As the fast runners go, we were more sedate than most
With a crew and good captain well reasoned
Including some meds to stop a couple of churns
When they left fully loaded for Seaton
And later that morn when the town crier’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?

Road trip was with Chairman Canvas Love, Madame Pompomadour and Captain Bakey in the Skip Mobile. On the way down we were serenaded by Ozzie Osbourne and Bryan Adams and what arias they sang to bolster our mood for running 20 miles. After about 45 minutes, Canvas needed a ‘comfort’ break. He stopped his passion wagon, leapt out into a field only to be confronted by the biggest pig in Devon. He changed his mind and crossed the road but was clearly visible to all in his bright yellow Harriers jacket.

We rocked up in Seaton and met up with the other participating Harriers Tracey Thomas and Ians Booth and Waude. The skies opened and rained for a solid hour before start time. We were huddled in our cars hoping it would subside for that final sprint to the loo. In my experience the queue to wash your hands was longer than the queue for the toilet.

Assembled on the start line the rain had stopped and the sun was shining like a perfect Spring morning. The first mile is a loop along the shingle beach, past the boatyard and the up and away on the first climb. It then sweeps down to Beer, up through a caravan park and along the coastal path to Branscombe Beach. At this time Madame Pompomadour was about to spend my money on a full English breakfast and the arcade machines.

At Branscombe Beach the race splits. The Cub runners turn left and head back to Beer and Seaton, Grizzlies turn right and climb. Soon after this point we encountered the real mud and I quickly discovered that I may have made an error in judgement. In the week leading up to the race I had been suffering with a cold and a severe lack of self belief and confidence. I thought that I had no way near done enough training but sheer bloody-mindedness had to push me on. I didn’t want to be the only Harrier not to go the whole way. I wanted that happy ending and I wanted that happy smiling face that Tracey and myself had the previous year running the Cub.

The next few, well 10-12, miles were running hell. Hills and mud, not to mention two bogs and the hill in the picture. I’ve ‘bonked’ (run out of energy due to poor calorie intake) before but I felt in a bad place today and the gels didn’t seem to help. My physiology is greatly different since my illness so my preparations for long runs and long races have now been reduced to chance. Maybe that just one more marathon dream has to be binned.

Back down to Branscombe Beach and the long drag over the shingle and the last massive climb and down back through the caravan park to a stall giving out free samples of beer from a local brewery. After the all the water energy gels, this beer was the best thing to touch my lips since kissing Tracey Danter at primary school when went on a school trip to Bristol Zoo in 1970. Back down to Beer, a road crossing, another shortish climb and the back to Seaton. I was feeling a lot better now and smugly proud of myself for completing the toughest race/run I’ve ever ran.

At the finish, after being hosed down by the ugliest, dopiest fireman in the South West, I met up with Canvas and PomPom and went looking for Tracey to go and have a celebratory beer. Alas, we couldn’t find her and journeyed home looking for a suitable hostelry on the way. We found one. Ye Olde Poppe Inn, Tatworth near Chard. Although there were several cars in the car park, the pub was empty apart from the landlord and his laundry. This was definitely a local pub for local people. We had one drink and quickly left.

Welcome back, my friends
to the show that never ends.
We’re so glad you could attend!
Come inside! Come inside!

I’m currently in training for The Grizzly (an easy cheesey peasey 20 mile race based in Seaton, South Devon). With two weeks to go, I needed something to boost my confidence to establish I could do it and relieve some stress. So I set out on the Weekend of Endeavour.

I like my job and my work colleagues but unfortunately the management are as useful as a choc ice in the Sahara, when it gets hot they disappear, but I am lucky, in as much as, having Fridays free. I left work Thursday night and as Spandau Ballet sang ‘With a thrill in my head and a pill on my tongue. Dissolve the nerves that have just begun’. I wasn’t listening to Marvin all night long but heading out to Weston-Super-Mare for the February edition of their Prom Series. Speedy Harry Petheram drove and he must to have been thrilled to have Madam Pompomadour as navigator, Tracey Thomas as responsible adult and myself to help him find his car after the 5 mile race. It’s a bloody good job he doesn’t drink. ‘Dude, Where’s my car?’.

I considered running with Tracey Benton to help her to get a little quicker after weeks of running with the Harriers slower club night group. The course headed southwards along the esplanade and then at a turn around point northwards for two laps. The wind was blowing and the start kite was bent double. I admit I was struggling to breathe in that wind and was seriously considering a ‘Did Not Finish’ but soldiered on and things went from crap to better and was building a good platform for the second lap. I was a little annoyed by a Great Western runner who was using me as a shield from the wind, drafting. I slowed and let him catch up with a group in front but was pretty chuffed to breeze past him on the homeward leg and finish a 5 mile race in my fastest time in over 12 years. It was fun to listen to the loud tuts from Weston A.C coaches whose shouts of encouragement were drowned out by Madam Pompomadour’s tinnitus inducing screams of ‘C’mon Burnham’ and ‘Benton, Benton, Benton’. Tony McKee ran a pb and in those conditions he must feel more is to come. All Harriers had great runs especially Flobbs, Tracey Thomas and Howie J. Petheram III

Friday morning and an early start for a tour of the Quantocks with Tracey Thomas and Ian ‘Yoda’ Booth as our ‘Sherpa’. Grizzly training but Yoda got lost in Bridgwater and my thoughts immediately went to ‘it’s gonna be a long day/ night and I hope Air Ambulance and Kate Adie aren’t involved’. As it turned out it was a fabulous morning with great company running over some testing terrain in preparation for our target race in Seaton. Tracey has been devouring hills like a thirsty alcoholic at a beer festival and has taken her to another level. Yoda and myself desperately tried to keep up. The wind was as great as the views and it was truly a pleasure to run up there. The hours and miles flew by as we chanted our mantra ‘Time on your feet’. It was half term and grandparents with moody grandchildren minus mobile phones and video games were walking dogs. I can’t empathise enough that the secret to running faster is, strangely, long, slower running. It was a terrific run with the best of running distance, terrain and pain.

Saturday was a gentle recovery park run. People who know me know that for me to turn up is an effort in it’s self but at least I have the rest of the day for footy, rugby, maybe cricket, and planning Tuesday’s club run.

Sunday and the Babcary 7.5. Jinkies, how do I approach this? Last year I was well prepared, training well and really had a go but this year my confidence and expectations were low but I knew I was okay and this was a means to an end. Kelly Sherriff had been unable to run in the week leading up to the race due to illness so I thought I’d accompany her around the midly undulating course. Nice big hill at the start to spread out the runners early, another in the middle and yet another towards the end. After 2 miles she admitted she just wanted to go back so I like to think my singing kept her spirits up. We were rewarded by terrific runs from Little Timmy Byrne and, again, Phil Hobbs and Jasons Roberts and Vickers but overall Super Sue Nicholls who was the top age graded runner. Also, a nice shot glass as a race memento and lashings of homemade cake. Harriet Hobbs won her children’s race and disappointingly, again, only chocolate to the local runners that and no tail runner, again, makes this race one that the Race Director needs to take more care with.

Welcome back, my friends
to the show that never ends.
We’re so glad you could attend!
Come inside! Come inside!

And you may find yourself
Living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself
In another part of the world
And you may find yourself
Behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house
With a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself, well
How did I get here?

A song about a man in mid life crisis and reflection. When I stopped and really thought about these Talking Heads lyrics, I realised how true it was. I asked myself, how did I get here?

The song can also be interrupted by the runner inside. The goal, the process, and the result. How did I get here?

The goal is a race. The process is the training; a combination of long slow miles, shorter speed running and/or hill running. The result is the start line, taking part and, hopefully, the finish line with the cheers, medal and/or tee shirt.

You may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
You may ask yourself
Where does that highway go to?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? Am I wrong?
And you may say yourself
“My God! What have I done?”

The most important section has to be the process. The enjoyment of the training and preparation is the only part of the process that will help you obtain your objective. You may find yourself entering a race. If it’s a longer one than you would usually consider and the weather is inclement, rain, cold or even hot, training may not be fun and therefore not done so the entrance fee could easily be wiped off as a take away or another frivolous expense. How did I get here? Join a club or find a running buddy to encourage you to get out. That will make friendly and social, and maybe a little competitive.

Having done the ground work on the dark, cold winter nights or early sun drenched mornings over the three, six, twelve months you will line up with hundreds or thousands of others. Some hoping to achieve fast times or podium places the rest to get round unbroken. All the same. The same distance only the times different.

Time isn’t holding up
Time isn’t after us.

Apologies to Brian Eno, David Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz

Oh my God I can’t believe it
I’ve never been this far away from home

Harriers Tuesday club run was sandwiched between Storms Ciara and Dennis (Dennis?, Really?). Running has been a tricky affair dodging the worst of the wind whilst fitting in the mundane aspects of life like, for instance, work. Boo! Two races that I planned to run for preparation for The Grizzly, a 20 mile jaunt over the worst possible terrain the South West coast has to offer, were postponed.

The usual Tuesday run was to start and finish at the BASC (Burnham Association of Sports Clubs) and not BASC (British Association for Shooting and Conservation. Seems a little contrary!!! How can you kill and conserve?). The venue was to stage the Burnham-on-Sea Harriers Annual General Meeting. In short, a bit of chat and a cabinet reshuffle.

Everything was going swimmingly along until Social Secretary came up and I heard whispers of my name. Then, shock horror, Sweet Jinny Darling (not my nickname. I’d call her Not So Sweet Jinny TroubleMaker!) put my name forward. Don’t get me wrong. I like a pint or eleventine and a curry like the next runner but our club is getting bigger and a social may need to include Jesus and loaves and fishes washed down by water that’s been turned into Mark Benton’s Malbec.

This was rapidly followed, and too quickly even for my subtle digestion, by the election of Club Captain and blow me down with a howitzer my name came up again and before I could say NO! I seemed to be voted in. I then thought I’d pass around tea and coffee because surely the next vote was to be Tea Boy and I felt certain I’d get that as well! Seriously, I’m very proud and honoured to be captain. I hope I can live up to your hopes, dreams, expectations and previous captains Tracey Benton and Super Sue Nicholls. Guide you all to personal bests and offer encouragement in times of injury, runner’s block and disenchantment. Please contact during office hours because I won’t see them! Only joking.

Many congratulations to Ian ‘Yoda’ Booth on winning the Captain’s Cup. I love you, man.

Welcome back, my friends
To the blog that never ends
We’re so glad you could attend
Come inside! Come inside

Three lions on the shirt, the British and Irish Lions rugby union team, England’s cricket second team are the Lions, Cameroon’s national football team are known as the Lions, America’s National Football League has the Detroit Lions, Gloucester Rugby have dropped their Cherry and Whites moniker and are now known as the Lions and as a Charlton Athletic supporter it irks me to add Millwall’s nickname is the Lions but this weekend I’m with the Lions of Longleat to run the Longleat 10k. No the Lions of Longleat aren’t a crack team of Kenyan runners based in Wiltshire but the famous animals from the Longleat Safari Park and stately home. I last visited Longleat in 1974 as an excited 10 year old on a school outing. Of course the animals were a main attraction but also was the Doctor Who exhibition in a disappointing mock up of the Tardis, well is was the 70s and expectations weren’t all that high even after the moon landings but Jon Pertwee was my favourite Doctor.

Longleat Safari Park was opened in 1966 (3 Lions) and was the first drive through safari park outside of Africa. In the 18th century it was landscaped by Capability Brown and is now the ancestry home of the 7th Marquess of Bath, Alexander Thynn. a serial philanderer, politician, poet and artist or needs to get a real job and struggle for a crust like the rest of us *blog writer’s opinions only for legal reasons but I’m sure we all have nicknames for ‘gentlemen’ like Alex*. I like to see animals roaming in their homeland but not if they’re going to be hunted and killed by rich Americans and apparently it’s legal but don’t get me started on that.

Road trip commenced at a nearly manageable 8.15am for a Sunday morning epic drive out of Somerset and to the Wiltshire border town of Warminister where Longleat is situated on it’s outskirts. With a new audience, Madam Pompomadour recounted her fanciful array of slander about me. Luckily nobody bought into her lies and my dignity remains as intact as possible. As we approached the entrance into the safari park we passed Centre Parcs and the ladies said they would much prefer a day at the spa to a toughish 10k. Ignoring the requests of the sat nav to turn back, we joined a hefty queue down to the car park near the stately home. With the volume of traffic behind it seemed impossible for the event to start on time. Lisa parked up and Super Sue dashed to the toilets and we wandered to the start area. I needed my usual pre race visit to the porta loo for my team talk, the stereotypical ‘Win this one for the Gipper’ type of thing, and when I emerged nobody was around and I had literally seconds to make the start. Lucky as I’m always nervous before a race and had no such time for any moments of self doubt. Hit the ground running.

The hooter sounded and the timing chips pinged and away we strode 150 metres towards the big house, left past the carpark and the first climb. Steep climbs in the first 500 metres sorts out the runners going for a time or place and the pretenders, and we soon down to single file. Onwards and, literally, upwards, sharp left and more climbing. My recent runs with Kev Clements and up the Quantocks were paying dividends and I found the ascent easier than I might have. Still climbing then descending and sweeping down past the Bath Arms and back into the Longleat grounds, through the start/finish area, past the house and deep into the grounds. Longleat House and the safari park won’t be open to the public for a few weeks and as we ran through one of the visitor’s areas it was apparent with everything closed. Straight on and past a field of bounding kangaroos, left and up, up again, round and down back to the house and back up that first climb. Passing the pub the second time and now with the smell of Sunday roasts. Entering the park for the last time and realisation of 800-1000 metres of straight, flat driveway to the finish and the glory for all runners. Not only the prize winners but the ‘average Joes and Janes’ who run for pleasure, weigh loss, friendship, mental health, and that medal.

Terrific times ran by Lisa and Alison and especially Super Sue who ran under the hour and won a very competitive Over 70 female competition. A tough race but I’d recommend it to anyone who wants a challenge with great surroundings but be careful female runners in case Old Alex wants to make you a ‘wifelet’.

Saturday, Park Run and the Burnham breeze was blowing a hoolie. I trotted around with Jinny Darling and Tony McKee chatting to occupy my ‘racing’ mind and keep my powder dry for the evening’s main event, Storm The Fort 10k at Brean Down. Maybe the race should have been called Eye of the Storm. Little did we know when signing up that because the course was different to the usual access road and back but along the road, through the fort and back over the Down via the Trig point. This annoyed Aspire, organiser of other Brean Down runs, because the National Trust refused permission for a similar route.

The evening arrived and time for the road trip. Harry Petheram was our kind host and we were joined by Madame Pompomadour and Jonny Jacobs. Madame gave her usual directions even though it was dark and she had no clue where we were. Fortunately Jonny suggested following the road until it stopped. On arrival, I was easily persuaded to drop down to the 5km as the wind was blowing harder than an asthmatic in a Turkish bath. *cleaned that one up!*. Hence Joy Decision. Jonny Jacobs put forward a good case when he said that he loves a good cliff rescue!

We met up with fellow Harriers, Paula and Billie-Jo Hopley, Super Sue ‘The Pocket Rocket’ Nicholls and Jason ‘Run Fat Boy, Run’ Roberts. Harry and Jason were still running the 10km and I felt a little guilty for dumbing down, but not that much. Registration was easy and Jon, as a coastguard, was at great pains telling the organisers that he informed his colleagues that bright lights will be seen from the Down and it wasn’t an angry mob with torches and pitchforks chasing a man made monster off the cliff in Mary Shelley tradition.

Even though Jon and myself both felt a twinge in our pride muscle, Harry and Jason were still keen to tackle the two laps of the dark side of Brean Down. The 10kers set off after an entertaining pre race brief and followed shortly after by us one lap jockeys. Walking up the road onto the Down and seeing Jon and Billie-Jo speeding away disturbed me slightly. What if I got into some difficulty? A coastguard would be ideal to help me and then I remembered, Jon likes a ‘good cliff rescue’ and I didn’t want cliff to become Clive.

Running along the road to the fort at the seaward furthest point was fraught with difficulties even wearing a headtorch. The beam shone out a few metres in front of me and I could see what was coming but the problem was under my feet and many times I felt the unevenness of the path bend my ankles. Once at the fort, we ran through the compound and one of the buildings where a photographer was snapping our startled faces. Out of the fort and up the Down and slip, sliding to the Trig Point which provided outstanding panoramic views of Weston-Super-Mare in front and Cardiff and Barry behind. Then back down the access road to the finish to collect our goody bags and drink coffee.

Harriers produced great returns. Harry was 3rd in the 10k and Jason a creditable 18th after his injuries and illness. The 5k produced a clean sweep in the Ladies race with Billie-Jo winning, Sue 2nd and Paula 3rd. Overall in the 5k Jonny finished 3rd and I scrapped 6th.