Thicker than a sheep – yep thats me

We are definitely in bank holiday season and yesterdays run was likely the last before Preseli while I do this taper thing and eat stuff (you know for the race etc and not just because I wanna eat stuff)

So a quick 5 miles which meant I met this very very very newborn dude

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Welcome to the world!

And while I do sometimes mention that sheep are a bit thick they had nothing on me today.  I reached the headhigh rape seed oil field and it had poured down during the night. One step into the jungle and I could tell it was pretty wet.

The options were plough onwards or go back. Or I could have opened my pack ( I was practicing with the kit I am running in on saturday) and put on waterproofs. As the race is part of the Welsh Fell Running Championships it means we have to carry full wind and waterproof kit plus compass, whistle etc.

Guess what – I forgot I had waterproof gear in my pack so I just ploughed on through. It was like similtaneously having freezing cold water poured down my front and into my bottoms while being whipped with heavy wet laces. Thank god I wasnt in shorts

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Drencherated and covered in sodding petals

Oh the places you’ll go ….

Yesterdays long run went well, only another 11 miles but felt really good and in control of my pace so I finished it feeling quite similar to the start.  Up along the cliffs to Nash Point and then the length of the beach up onto Witches Point for a few climbs. A circuit of Southerdown beach then a scramble over Witches at low tide and then a run home via the ladders and my folks. I love saturday mornings!

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First up – I think these are barrow mounds and Nash Point. There was a Bronze Age hillfot here
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Steps – Lots of steps. From the cliffs you can see the stepped nature of the rocks on the beach. This is why beach running hurts sometimes. No wonder my ankles and knees protest.
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Low tide and a part of a shipreck (I assume) is uncovered. Kinda cool but then ….
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….. when you see it in context of being in the middle of the sand here you can only imagine everything that lies underneath ….
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Someone stole my rainbow!
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The grass covered cliffs of Southerdown beach
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Witches point looking toward Nash Point. This is a fun scramble across which can only be done at low tides.
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I found this in a pool left by a fisherman (along with other litter – arseholes) Not sure what it is but I was attracted magpie-like to the bright green and so I tied it to my pack and ran back with it anyway.
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Spotted the ship!  Good blurry photo this – I can tell you it was big and white!
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First lamb of spring battering for milk! Good luck dude

A journey into nosebreathing

It had recently come to my attention through the efforts of my personal training advisors  (you know who you are) that by breathing through the nose will prevent going over the heartrate threshold (or something like that, at least it acts a a bit of a regulator) so I set off for the beach last night to try it out.

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Gratuitous beach shot

First impressions – felt a bit odd, I’m clearly an inveterate mouthbreather when I run, usually in some sort of gasping fish out of water style. After I while I got more used to it, I think I should have been counting steps and breaths or something but I’d forgotten what I was meant to count and how much I should be counting to anyway so I just made it up.

It does actually seem to work, if I was finding it hard to breathe through the nose and felt like I needed a gulp from my mouth then I knew I was pushing too hard. Mainly the uphill bits it seemed as I could happily cruise at around 10 min per mile pace on sand while nosebreathing.  In fact the hardest part was remembering to do it once I got into the zone and started enjoying the scenery and terrain.

I actually covered seven and a half miles and it didn’t feel like I was putting out too much effort. Maybe this slow/chi/noserunning technique has plenty going for it. It was kind of a definite comeback run for me. Every day as I travel to work I pass at a distance the hill of Witches Point at Southerndown and I can just make out the wall on the side of it. Throughout my injury it has teased me with its presence and every time I’ve gone past I’ve sworn my revenge on it.

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Who’s in charge now then wall?

Yesterday that time came and when I reached the wall I took a photo of my vanquished foe, gave it the two fingered salute and pranced around it just to demonstrate my return and put this completely inanimate object back in its place – I’m king of the hill again!

Instead of the beach on the way back I ran the cliff route which means lots of hills to test out the nosebreathing. I have to admit to switching to my mouth a few times before remembering why I’m doing this in the first place.  Gob shut I continued slower.

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View from the clifftop

Once again for those that reached the end of the post I give you the brave … I don’t care that you are photographing me …. lamb

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I swear if that little face doesn’t make you vegetarian then I don’t know what would

Needs Must – The Devils Driving!

Well not driving – riding!

After a visit to the doctors yesterday who reckons its a ligament strain not a fracture I decided bugger complete rest it’s impact that hurts so let’s try non impact – cycling! (For non impact I mean on the hfoot, impact may well occur into the front of a bus or over a hedge). So off I went this morning for a rummage and to dig out the old mountain bike I own.

It’s not the prettiest, in fact it’s built like some sort of bike-tank hybrid judging by the weight of it, if I do crash into any buses they may well be the ones to come off worse. I spent an hour or so fixing up the minor faults, ignoring others and smashing a few bits off it with a hammer (I reasoned it was making it lighter at least).  The gears dont work very well, if at all if I’m honest, it likes to stay between gear 7 and 12 and pretty much likes 10 best, any other and it clicks madly in protest and then slips back to 10 anyway. The brakes rub a bit as the wheels are slightly buckled – This is of course great resistance training! Every cloud has a silver lining and all that jazz.

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Here she is in all her half working glory! I’d like to get rid of the lock but don’t have the key or a hacksaw

The sun was shining, I put my new ankle supporty thing on and off I went. I found that the best way of dealing with unhappy gears is to give in, stay in 10th and when hills approach hammer up them in the same gear and pray my legs don’t buckle before the hill ends. I’m alive to write this post so my technique clearly works (I will studiously be avoiding any long hills)

First stop Marcross. It was weird cycling places where I run to normally. Almost felt like cheating.

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Marcross beach on a spring day – Opposite is the hill I train on – I’ll be back you bastard!

On my way to Llantwit I passed lots of other cyclists, they usually gave a friendly nod or greeting but I could see what they were thinking – What is that idiot riding and why doesn’t that idiot have a helmet on? Well guys you answered your own question – Idiot but an idiot with the wind blowing through his locks! Yes I may die but it will be stylish (For stylish read painful and splattered over the front of a bus)

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Llantwit beach at high tide
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LLantwit beach looking toward Atlantic College
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View of the Bristol Channel on the way home
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Awwwwwww fluffy lamb thinking “wear a helmet you dick”

Things I noticed –

Cycling uses some different muscles to running.
My foot and ankle felt fine so it seems cycling can be a substitute while I recover.
As nice as it was to exercise cycling is no substitute for running trails.
Pheasants crack me up when they run.