Custard wellingtons

The theme of a running race per weekend has continued. I use the term ‘race’ loosely, especially with reference to my most recent event. As I mentioned last week the Park Run 5K is popular across the UK attracting people of all abilities and ambitions. Both my ability and ambition were dampened this week as I stood on the start line of the Moors Valley run, although it was nothing in comparison to my friend, aka “the hen”.

I can hear you shouting ‘why are you running on a hen do?!’ – a few of the girls were asking this but we managed a fifty percent turn out, all embracing the compulsory fancy dress. I have always enjoyed running without the need to spice it up in a costume so I was slightly concerned with the comfort factor and what to wear. As it turned out an extra layer of clothing over my usual running attire worked as a pleasant insulator on a chilly morning. I cannot say the same for then hen as her already hideous outfit was topped off with custard filled wellingtons – and somehow she ran the whole thing, beating many baffled participants.

Since returning from Africa it has been an unusually hectic few days. I had hardly finished unpacking before preparing my bag to head off to Brazil for work. After three weeks away there are a few things that you really appreciate. Personally the comfort of my own bed and the independence of driving my own car feature high on the list. Both were severely hampered. I cannot find my keys and I still have no recollection of where they could be or where else to look. Do not worry I am not sleeping on the street, an emergency spare set of house keys are now in use and a second car key has been sent. This just leaves me slightly uneasy as I head off again, this time with no spares.

Sunday morning stroll

The theme continued through out my South African holiday, I was bitten by their active bug. As I headed West along the coast the enthusiasm and opportunity for sport did not let up. I am aware much of this is due to the climate in the southern hemisphere at this time of year, as who could resist the allure of the outdoors with the fresh sea air and the deep warming sunshine. 

I got a little carried away after completing the Park Run, so much so that just a week later I had agreed to run a half marathon. Thankfully I was now down at sea level although the 4am alarm call on the Sunday morning did have me questioning my decision. Unlike in the UK no pre entry was required,  I could have so easily rolled over and ignored that alarm. Thankfully I had agreed to run it with a friend, there was no choice.

Just as the sun was rising over the ocean, hundreds of like minded slightly crazy runners set off along the quiet and picturesque route. It was only then that it dawned on me, I have not trained for such an event, my longest run in the last nine months probably equated to half the distance. This news then reached my legs at about fourteen kilometres into the twenty-one kilometre race. As we meandered along the river Knysna towards the sea the stunning views with mist rising off the shimmering water and the hills appearing behind were just enough to distract my mind from the fatigue in my muscles.

Damage limitation was required and what better way to recover than a dip in the chilly waters off the Eastern Cape. This brought back memories of cross country races in Cornwall that were often followed with a dash into the Atlantic post run. The only difference being I did not need to worry about a possible hypothermic reaction.

Active at altitude

The craze for sport does not end on the sofa or in the seats of a stadium here in South Africa; it continues out onto the streets and across the parks. Much to my delight I discovered that the people of this country enjoy doing sport almost as much as I do.

This trip is a holiday yet it has had several similarities to training camps of my past athletic career, but with more wine and food. My first few days in Johannesburg I was keen to get over the flight and test my fitness at the altitude of 1650m. Swimming was not a problem and when presented with an open water pool, shared with just two other swimmers and at a cost of forty pence per session, I was in heaven.

After a couple of steady runs in the local park I was feeling brave and signed up for the five kilometre, free, park run. Now an international event hosted by cities all around the world I have participated in several at home and thought I should sample an African one.

The sun was already beating down and the air feeling far too thin as I made my way across the park to the start. It was just 07.45am and the masses were gathering - children, pensioners, dogs, families, the buzz was quite incredible. I set myself a target to beat my slowest recorded UK time, bearing in mind the heat, the huge hill, the altitude and the fact that this holiday has featured plenty of delicious South African wine. The odds were stacked against me.

In the end I was surprised with more than just my time and result. A few hours later the email with the statistics dropped into my inbox. One thousand two hundred and sixty runners had completed the 5K that morning. That takes mass participation to a level far above anything we in the UK can comprehend for a weekly occurrence.

Wedding rivalry

The wings flexed and the body was jolted in every direction as we accelerated away from the runway and into the tail end of Storm Imogen. I could not complain as the Boeing 747-8 made it safely through the turbulence and headed south for warmer climes. The following morning I landed in drought ridden South Africa, it is amazing what difference a ten hour flight and just two time zones can make.

I am having slight deja vu. Last September I attended my first wedding abroad in Greece. It is not the foreign location that is so strikingly similar, more the international sporting situation. The Greek wedding between my Welsh friend and her English fiancé fell on the same evening as that disappointing rugby World Cup match when England lost to Wales. On the plus side it gave my friend her fairy tale day. I am now in South Africa for my English school friend’s wedding to his South African bride to be. The location has changed but this time the sport is cricket; the wedding party rivalry is still just as ripe.

Unlike the rugby World Cup the cricket lacks such a definite conclusion to this historical rivalry. England comfortably won the test down in the Southern Hemisphere back in January and went into the One Day Internationals looking strong. With an encouraging start they were one game ahead after three matches. I thought this would be the perfect occasion to break my cricket virginity and join the barmy army. Frustratingly I had to dash away before the extremely exciting fourth game concluded. With South Africa being so sports mad there was no shortage of bars showing the cricket, however I was in a smart restaurant for a pre wedding meal with the girls. I need not have worried as the result became sadly obvious as the sports bar opposite erupted with cheer, and it was not full of the barmy army.

Taking a battering

It has been a battering weekend for the Westcountry in both the weather and the sport.

I stupidly thought that we had left the worst of  the winter weather behind us after one of the wettest January’s on record,  how wrong I was. It was impossible to hide from the storms that battered all of the South West last weekend, the wind and rain were relentless for a second weekend in a row. The previous weekend I gave in and resorted to mountain biking, a form of exercise that is designed for such conditions, this weekend however I was determined to fight it. I headed out for an ambitious ride on my light carbon framed road bike, my mind set on proving the storms could not hamper my training any longer, sadly I lost. Two punctures later as I was starting to loose the feeling in my digits I admitted defeat and turned my back on the gusting wind, racing home to thaw out. Sunday I opted for the static spin bike, what a novelty it was to overheat whilst sitting on a bicycle.

The sun also refused to shine on Westcountry rugby as both Bath and Exeter lost at home in their respective matches. Last year’s Premiership finalists Bath have been struggling at the bottom of the table most of this season. They faced local rivals Gloucester, a team they had not lost to for several seasons. Yet frustratingly for them it was another nail in the coffin after an exciting Friday night derby saw Gloucester win the battle. Exeter Chiefs faced current Premiership leaders Saracens, with the first chance of the season to knock them off that top spot. Having not lost at home for a record thirteen months it was made all the more painful as they could not quite hold off the visitors in the second half, loosing just fourteen points to eleven.

It was not quite all doom and gloom though, thanks to an encouraging win for England rugby at the start of the Six Nations tournament.