On The Run - January 2013
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Transcript of On The Run - January 2013
On the RunAwards Edition January 2013
Magazine Editor:
Adam Hills
Contributors:
Ι Elise Allen Ι Jutta Crane Ι Steve Crane Ι Alastair Fadden Ι Gill Fullen Ι Angie Kay Ι Richard Piron Ι Graham Short Ι Bob Wells Ι
Editor's Column
Well, here we are again… after the memorable year of
2012. We have indeed witnessed the greatest London
Summer Olympics and Paralympics Games after all the
years of preparation and thought planning. It was
arguably not obvious who would light up the flame
after all the speculation that mounted. Now the flame
has safely gone out after the Games we can now look
forward to its legacy and hope it will bring positive
benefits to our country. It felt great to see the many
torch bearers that passed through our very streets and
the hundreds of spectators who turned out to watch
on a cool rainy Sunday morning in July. It felt pleasing
for our country to finish third with 65 medals, only
behind the populated China and the massive United
States of America. The edited version of Chariots of
Fire theme during each medal ceremony sounded
enjoyable to listen to. It was nice to hear of the many
Bedford Harriers who were very successful in gaining
event tickets to watch the Games live, the dedicated
Games Maker volunteers who gave up their time and
everyone who were inspired by the GB Team
achievements. There were numerous achievements
displayed within the Bedford Harriers during the year
2012 as can be seen on the Club’s website and within
the Awards Edition of the On The Run – so take a good
read. I shall be stepping down from the Committee this
year so if anyone else wishes to take over the
magazine editor role then that should be fine. Good
luck to all with your sporting goals and aspirations in
the year 2013 and hope anyone who may be
superstitious about the number 13 will continue to see
the positive benefits from belonging to and training
with the Bedford Harriers.
Adam Hills
EditorAbove photo by Billy Fadden -
from outside the Copperbox at the Olympic Park
CONTENTS
Editor's Column 2
Chair’s chatter 3
Success and failure 4-5
The Making of a Games Maker 6-7
My Journey To L..... 8
Looking back on 2012 9
Still Some Nice People in the World 10
From 2005 as a Complete Beginner 11
Testing Einstein’s Theory 12
Life On The Front Row Of The Griddle 13
Cover Photo By Ian Sturdgess -
Olympic London Marthon Photographers
Back Cover Photo By Alastair Fadden
2
Chair’s ChatterA belated Happy New Year to all members, their families and friends of the Harriers.
2012 was another great year for Bedford Harriers in many, many respects.
There were numerous athletic achievements including 17 new Club Best Times.
Harriers members continue to compete on a regular basis and many members
will have achieved considerable personal success over the last 12 months as will
be demonstrated in the awards ceremony.
The Club maintains a buoyant membership level and a robust financial position.
The membership continues to enjoy the benefit of a full range of coaching
ability groups, the 3 Counties Cross Country league, the Friday evening track
and circuit sessions and the weekend swimming programme.
The Harriers promoted races; the Oakley 20, the Doug Anderson 5K, the
Bedford Harriers 10K and the Harriers Half Marathon, all continue to be well
attended and generate encouraging comments from the participants. The
fledgling Spring into Summer duathlon was staged for the first time in 2012
and whilst the number of participants was comparatively low they were
nevertheless effervescent in their compliments about the event.
It’s certain that every individual will recollect several high points of 2012.
One of those must surely be seeing our very own Iva Barr promenading with the Olympic Torch through Bedford on 8th July 2012.
Much has been written and spoken about the sporting events over the past 12 months; all put much more eloquently
than that to which my humble prose could aspire.
What did become apparent as one followed the media reports throughout the summer was the frequency with which the
word volunteer or more accurately the words, Games Makers were used.
The media addressed the topic as though volunteering was a new concept initiated by LOCOG (London Organising Committee
of the Olympic and Paralympic Games) however, we all know differently.
Bedford Harriers members (and their families and friends too) have been volunteering for years; it’s true to say that without
volunteers there would be no Club. Bedford Harriers is extremely fortunate to have a membership that has the volunteering
ethic, not just now and again but repeatedly, week on week, month on month, year on year. More often than not the
contribution that our volunteers make appears to pass unnoticed and unrecognised. Many of our members give up considerable
amounts of their time to forward the interests of the Club and its members, whilst still finding the time to train and compete.
To all Harriers volunteers, (actually it’s most of the membership), your contribution is noticed and is recognised, although you
may not realise it, every single volunteer makes this running club one of the most successful in the country.
Best wishes for 2013
Steve Crane
PS Just to prove all is not sweetness and harmony pictured
above is Richard Pooley and yours truly wrestling over rubbish
bins, looks like he’s already had my braces away!
Welcome to the January 2013 Awards Edition
of the Bedford Harriers ‘On-The-Run’
PPS Harmony restored, all standing to attention.
3
2012 will be remembered for so many fantastic sporting moments, withthe Olympics showing the fantastic heights of success, but also thedevastating emotions of not achieving goals. We all felt inspired by ourheroes’ achievements, especially Jess, Greg and Mo on that magicalnight, but the real test of character is surely for those who failed tomedal to pick themselves up and carry on. This has been a reflection of my year, albeit on a far less significant scale.
The year started well for me : I decided early in the year that duathlonwas a logical step for me, with swimming as my weakest discipline andrunning my strongest, but when I entered two qualifiers I was stillrather taken aback to win my age category in both. I decided they weremore difficult than triathlon in that the first 10k run is harder on thelegs than any swim and so putting power into the 40k bike is tough. Totop that the final 5k run on seriously tired legs is a killer, but with thoseresults in the bag my ticket to the World Championships in Nancy,France was booked.
However, my main target for the year was Ironman UK in Bolton, notan altogether glamorous venue, and I made the mistake of seriouslymisjudging the difficulty of the course. The bike was unrelentingly hilly,made worse by increasingly strong winds during the day, but it was onthe run that the hill I’d missed on my course recce really hit hard and bythe third lap most were walking it. Having trained in extremes of rainand wind all Spring, I was looking forward to a wet, cold and windyrace, so when the day dawned bright and clear and became one of thehottest days of the year so far, I really suffered from heat anddehydration. It was a small foretaste of what was to come later in theyear. Not happy with my performance, but still managing to win my agecategory, I had won the golden ticket, the Kona qualification. Ticket to Hawaii, booked.
It was great to travel out to France with Richard Piron, who had alsoqualified for the World Championship Duathon. What with alsomeeting Harriers Julie Tapley and Pete Buckingham, and BRCC’s PhilHolland and Jason Moore out there, it was always going to be a well-supported race. The parade of Nations set the tone for the GB teamspirit and following the Union Jack into the beautiful and imposingmain square of Nancy made me proud to be a part of the team. Thepasta party was well organised and the food actually really tasty, as wemaybe should have expected in France. The run course was loops offroad through a local park, followed by a technical urban bike coursewith little advantage to be gained from a tt bike, as the hilly, twistingand stop-start nature of the course kept riding skill to the fore rather than pure power.
On race day the ladies waves were set off first and I was worried aboutthe fairly narrow course considering that our wave was 90 ladies. I hadbriefly checked out the competition and decided that two Germans andan American were going to take the medals, so if I could keep them insight I might not be too far behind. I positioned myself just behindthese ladies at the start and ran off on their heels hoping for the best.Naturally impatient, I quickly found their pace too slow for my liking,so switched my attention to two strong GB ladies, with whom I happilyran round the first lap. I was somewhat amazed to find them bothgradually dropping off the pace and as I overtook them both, it waspretty unbelievable to find myself running into transition in secondplace. I fully expected to be fairly swiftly caught and overtaken on thebike, so I was unsurprised when on the third lap, despite some prettyhard pushing on my part, I was overtaken by another American. All Icould do was keep pedaling as fast as possible, pray for no puncturesand get to transition not too far behind. When racing that hard Isuddenly discovered how difficult it is to count to five, so I turned intotransition unsure of whether I should be jumping off the bike or settingoff on another lap. I was not the only one, however and luckily I hadcounted correctly, unlike several other competitors.
Into transition in third place and I decided that if I could hold thenbronze was a good result. I gave the run all I had left, which still feltrelatively comfortable and I was making ground on the ladies in front ofme, but 5k is a short distance and I ran in still in third place, but morethan happy with that position. Amidst hugs, photos and congratulations
over the finish line I happened toglance down at the two Americans’legs and was astounded to see thatthey were both W35s, whichmeant I had won my section. Gold.World champion. Astounded andthrilled; definite high; success. Ihave to mention Gary Moore here,as he was the best supporter ever,with the right information andencouragement all the way roundthe course, thank you so much. Itwas great staying to watch themen race, cheering Richard on andsupporting Jason, Phil, Pete andNED (ie.anyone from Holland)made a superb weekend of racing.
Hawaii of course was a completely different proposition. The journeytook 26 hours door to door and mum and I were beyond shatteredwhen we arrived. The week that followed I spent being awestruck bythe amount of incredibly fit athletes running, swimming and cyclingaround the town and depressed by the amount of tt bikes these tannedsuperbodies were riding. The course itself didn’t look too imposing, itwas rolling, but very straightforward and the complete opposite ofFrance. It was definitely hot, but tended to cloud over towardslunchtime, making great racing conditions. The wind didn’t seem toobad either, I was feeling a little more confident!
My trial swim on the course terrified me … it seemed to go on forever, Iwas very seasick and emerged after 1hr40 with sunburn all over myback and sores from my swimsuit rubbing. Heartily discouraged, Ibought a speedsuit , ate heaps of ginger and swam every day to try toacclimatise to the salt water. I decided to try tt bikes the day before therace – bad move! Loved the tt bikes and the way they rode and wasmajorly depressed to go back to my road bike, which I usually love.Running seemed my only ace card, but with increasingly painful plantarfasciitis (tendonitis in both my feet) having plagued me for somemonths I was unsure even of this. On the whole I managed to psychemyself out of the race even before I arrived at the start line. I realisethis now, but at the time still felt reasonably positive.
Racking was brilliantly organised and it did feel great to be actuallytaking part in such a superb event. The pre-race banquet had recappedon the history of Ironman and the Hawaii world championships, so wewere aware that we were part of a famous tradition which includedmany of the best athletes in the world. On race day I found myself inthe queue to enter the water with my German friend, who I’d raced inLas Vegas. We chatted about our age group and prospects, but we hadno clue at that stage that she would come first in our category and takethe world title. I would be both overjoyed for her and intenselydisappointed with myself.
The swim went pretty well for me, considering my expectations, so Ijumped on the bike quite positive and continued to be happy as myaverage bike speed showed well over 20mph for the first few sectionsof the bike. The cross-winds hit at about 40miles in and I had to laughout loud as they simply threw me hard across the road, forcing me to
Success and failure, 2012 a year to remember By Gill Fullen
4
grip the handlebars tight to keep off the hard black lava bordering thecourse and briefly be thankful for my road bike. Needless to say, not asingle disk wheel was to be seen. The course climbed gradually fromthere into the wind and up to the turnaround point in the small town of Hawi on the Northern tip of the island. The climb was long and tiring,so to turn around at halfway and have the prospect of a long descentwith the wind behind me was pure pleasure. I still thought things weregoing ok at this point, but my stomach had shut down as per usual andwas refusing to accept any kind of fuel. At this point, some 5 hours intothe race, fuelling should have been my priority, but all I could do wastry to keep hydrated. The skies had remained clear, with little of thecloud cover we had become used to, and the heat reflected off the roadand lava was fairly intense. The feed stations I arrived at looked as if atornado had hit them, with little left on the tables and cups, bottles, gel packets and squashed banana strewn all over the road. I was luckyto pick up water by this stage and my fueling strategy was in tatters.
To compound my misery, as the hours went on the wind picked up. Icouldn’t work out how the wind was now in my face yet again on theway home, how did that happen? People on their lovely tt bikes werefree-wheeling downhill past me, as I pedaled as furiously as I was able.Transition had neverseemed so far away. All Iwanted to do was get offthe bike and I made it mymission just to keeppedaling until I arrived,one revolution at a time.Finally the town was insight and a sharpdownhill into transitionwas a blessed relief. Ihadn’t realised how hardI’d pushed on the bikethough, it had seemed soslow, (averaging justunder 18mph in theend), but when my feethit the ground I foundmy legs simply would notsupport me. I wasleaning on the bike tokeep me upright, when itwas taken from me to beracked and, justmanaging to stay upright, I hobbled round to the changing tent, where Icollapsed onto a chair and downed two full cups of coke. The superhelper managed to organise me into my trainers and relieve me of mybike kit, shoving gels into my back pocket, which I knew I wouldn’t beable to stomach. I sat for a bit longer before praying that my legs wouldhold me up and set of in that distinctive ironman shuffle on to themarathon course.
At this point I was seriously dubious as to whether I would be able tofinish at all. I reconciled myself to having to walk the run course, eventhough I was still managing to jog slowly, and could still not stop myselfchecking out every number that ran past me to see I they were in myage group. Competitiveness dies last apparently. I eventually acceptedthat jogging was the maximum I was capable of and if I wanted thatfinisher’s t-shirt that was what I’d have to put up with. Eighteen mileslater the girl next to me depressingly estimated our finish time as12.30hrs, at which point I said, lets change that and asked my body if it could go any faster. To my astonishment I found I could finally runagain! Much of this part of the run course was uphill, so run speedsdon’t tell the story of how many people I ran past, how fresh I felt andhow relieved I was to finally some kind of pace. My final mile of themarathon I sprinted in 6.10 minute/mile, to great support from thecrowds. Too little, too late, I crossed the finish line in a dispirited11.47.42, unplaced.
Failure is not something I’m used to and I have to admit to fairly seriousdepression after the race, which spoiled my experience of one of themost amazing destinations in the world. I’m coming to terms with itnow and the only way forward is either to never put myself through itagain, as I had promised myself throughout the race, or to go back anddo better. No choice really.
So if I was that upset with my performance, how do you cope withmissing out on an Olympic medal? My highs and lows this year have in the end led me to take lessons from both, to enjoy success, but notcount on it, to accept defeat and learn from it. With determination we can all achieve amazing things and self-belief is the key.
5
I have never won the lottery, and it’s pretty unlikely that I ever will
(since I understand you have to buy a ticket) but I came closest to
experiencing that lottery winning feeling, on 21st September last year,
when I received an email telling me, not only that I’d been accepted
as a Games Maker, but that I would be based at the Olympic Stadium.
It was virtually a year to the day since I’d submitted my initial
application, I’d had an interview 2 weeks earlier which had gone
pretty well, but the odds were that nearly 3 in 4 people would be
unsuccessful. But some people do win the lottery and I was in. Now
all I had to do was wait another year! Goodness I hope there’s some
good training because I didn’t feel particularly able to stage an
Olympics (even in my small way) at this point.
Training started with an orientation session on a bitterly cold day last
February at Wembley Arena along with 10000 others. This really didn’t
really give us much idea of what we’d actually be doing, but was more
designed to inspire and ignite our interest. Like we needed it! I
remember one phrase that Seb Coe used in his talk during the event.
He was confident that we would put on a good games. “Your role as
Games Makers”, he said, “would be to turn a good games into a great
games”. The cynic in me in thought “well you would say that wouldn’t
you”. I don’t believe that many of us at that time had any idea of
whether such a task was achievable. Particularly by British people. The
subsequent role-specific training events did not just concentrate on the
practical aspects of the job like using ticket scanners and checking
accreditation, but on motivating us to be something else. Something
distinctive, something inspirational. Are you kidding! Don’t you know
we’re British? We are dour aren’t we? We keep ourselves to ourselves.
Excellent at queuing though. That’s a comfort.
I set the alarm for 2am for my first shift (way too early) to catch the
4:08am train from Bedford. I felt conspicuous as the only one dressed
in purple on Bedford station. However, by the time we reached St.
Pancras there were more Games Makers than not exiting the platform.
Many were now experienced since the other venues had been running
for a week. It’s hard to convey the excitement that I felt as I entered the
park and saw the stadium and thought to myself, “that’s my office for
the day”. It felt such a privilege to be part of that team at the start of
every shift. I found myself drawing in a deep breath and metaphorically
pinching myself. As we checked in we were given a deployment card
which assigned us to a specific area and team for the day. The stadium
was split into 4 areas, one for each point of the compass, and we
received a daily briefing in our area groups before being split into our
teams and given a further team instructions. Each team had a specific
role, which might be manning the ticket booths for a gate into the
stadium or in charge of a seating area. This aspect of the role of
organising us took hours at the start of each day. There was a lot of
hanging around because just our Event Services Team inside the
stadium consisted of 800 people on a shift who needed splitting into
areas then teams, and moved into place. On the first day we finished
our final briefing just 15 minutes before gates opened. During these
15 minutes all of us were moving like blue-arsed flies around our area
making sure we knew where our nearest first aid or buggy store was,
where to get drinking water and where to let it out. In 15 minutes time
we would be expected to be experts. Of course we would be in 10 days
time, but this was shift one.
On this first shift our team was allocated the role of managing crowds
in an area of the concourse. One nice Japanese lady came up to me. In
her broken English she asks “where can I buy your uniform”. “You want
to buy this?” Come on Graham be professional now. “I’m afraid you
can’t buy it, it’s only provided for those that work here”. I don’t add
that most of us were terribly self conscious of wearing it initially.
Though this would change over the coming days. Two of our team (a
dinner lady from Leeds and a lady accountant from Surrey) are given
the job of (wo)manning the umpire chair to greet those coming into our
area. You get a script but they threw this away fairly soon. The smiles
these two ladies generated in the world’s corniest jokes were
infectious. Maybe Brits can be very welcoming after all.
Of course being at the greatest show on earth helped quite a bit.
There’s the noise for one thing. You didn’t so much hear it as feel it in
your stomach as the stadium erupted. When it did so people started
running to see what was happening. I wander in looking casual and talk
to a colleague. “What’s happening?” “It’s Jess Ennis.” “What has she
done?” “She stood up and took off her tracksuit!” “Ah”.
Next day on my second shift I met another Games Maker on the
platform at Bedford. He was working at Russell Square. He had twice as
many shifts as I did and his role was to direct the press onto the correct
bus to get to the various Olympic venues. For me these were the real
heroes amongst the volunteers, like those working the last mile
directing people to and from Stratford station. They had to deal with
millions of people, often at the end of the day, when they were tired
and not in the best frame of mind. I experienced this in a small way on
my second shift. I was in seating, but got moved at the end of the shift
to help with the buggy store. Now much in the Olympics was well
organised. One exception to this was just how much space was
provided for pushchairs and wheel chairs. The rooms were far too small
to meet the demand. We had two rooms which were stacked floor to
ceiling with buggies. And of course those that deposited them earliest
tended to be those that wanted to pick them up first. This was terribly
inconsiderate. We really needed them to turn up in reverse order since
those that left them latest were the easiest to reach. “Mine’s a black
McClaren” one lady says. Of course they were all bl**dy black
McClarens. “Can I suggest madam sprays it pink next time”. But these
were tired children and tired adults and we needed to find their
The Making of a Games Maker
Graham Short
By Graham Short
6
vehicles in a timely manner. There were 8 of us frantically pulling
buggies from these rooms by the end.
My third shift was my first evening shift. I mostly worked morning
shifts, but the finals were in the evenings, so this was exciting. The
highlight of that evening was the 100m with Mr. Bolt going for his first
gold medal. The shift was probably the hardest of the games. We got
one short break for a meal but the rest of the time was pretty much full
on. So many people tried to blag their way into the stadium that night.
We also had people rushing the entrance to try and force their way in. I
had several face offs with some very angry, some very drunk people
who felt they deserved to be inside. We turned away athletes and
coaches that didn’t have the appropriate accreditation. We turned
away Sally Gunnell! We turned away two policemen with machine
guns!! It was so hectic that we’d rather resigned to being stuck on the
bridge all evening. At 9:45 we had an emergency briefing. There were a
lot of extra people milling around the disabled seating area. They were
causing a nuisance by leaning over people in wheelchairs to take
photos. We were redeployed to form a cordon behind their seats. We
were moved in just before the race started and as soon as it finished we
were moved back onto the bridge. I was inside the stadium for a little
over 10 seconds.
So proceeded my Olympics week. Confidence, pride and joy growing by
the hour. Each morning that sharp intake of breath at the first glimpse
of my stadium office. A physically demanding day as we often didn’t get
much break during the shift, but then who wanted to spend time in the
break area. I really enjoyed the interaction with the public. When
families came in I would ask the children “Excited?” Some seemed to
hide behind their parents at being spoken to, so I’d chide “He’s hiding it
well”. It brought a smile and smiles are infectious. On the bridges I had
to make sure that every entrance gate was utilised to keep queues
down to a minimum. “Please use all the ticket entrances” I would
bellow “as all the stewards are equally ugly”. When it was my time for
scanning I would throw my arms out wide as people approached from
a distance. This invariably meant that some would throw their arms
open in response. “You don’t have to hug me madam, I just need to
scan your ticket”. Back home that afternoon passing policeman doing
the “Mobot”. Weary after my journey, I’d sit and watch the highlights
program on TV I’d recorded from the day before, invariably loaded
with the success of Team GB. By the end of this emotional roller
coaster, there were few days where I wasn’t close to tears, if not in
tears. Amazing to those of us on the team, was just how much praise
was being given to the volunteers. The plaudits from Locog, athletes,
spectators, the media, and even the likes of Boris were as surprising as
they were welcome. My God, what am I part of?
My final shift was the closing ceremony. Before hand, I was really
excited to be working it. It turned out to be, without doubt, my worst
shift. I was allocated to the bridge closest to the VIP area. As the games
had pretty much finished in the park this was to be solely used by the
Olympic Family to come into the park. As you may remember there was
just 24 hours between the last athletics in the Stadium and the closing
ceremony, when staging needed to be erected to turn the place into a
concert venue. The dress rehearsal was running late and as we stood
waiting for the all clear, a line of dignitaries were escorted up to our
entrance. A man from Zambia was at the head of the queue. “I’m afraid
we haven’t been given security clearance to let you in at present”, I
said. “Well that won’t do, there are old people here. They won’t be able
to queue here for long”. Slightly taken aback, I asked his colleague from
Zambia “Have you had a good games, sir”, “Well it’s been alright so far,
but we shall have to see after this”, adding “I don’t like to talk when I’m
tired”. This set pretty much the tone for the evening. These people are
after all professional Olympic visitors. They seemed to be here mainly
to eat, drink and criticise. I wanted to be with the happy people; the
General Public. They were a joy to be with. There was also once again
hundreds trying to blag their way past us to get into the ceremony.
Whilst turning away a 7 foot high basketball player who admitted he’d
had some drug issues, I was approached by a lady Games Maker who
was working in the park but didn’t have stadium accreditation. She
said, “I know I can’t come in but could you take my phone in and take
some photos to show my class” (she was a trainee teacher). I ran up the
4 flights of stairs past the VIP area to the only place we could get in to
see. I must have misunderstood her instructions, because I couldn’t
seem to make her phone work. Down again and I explain that I don’t
think I’m doing it right. She looks and says, “Yes all you’ve managed to
take a photo of, is your thumb”. Right that does it, I grab her by the
hand; haul her after me up 4 flights, flashing my accreditation at the
steward as I go. I put her in the stair well where she has a good view
and she takes her shots. 30 seconds later she comes blubbing to me “I
don’t want to get into trouble” and down we go again. As I show her
back out the exit gate, I at last start to feel good about myself. This is
what I should be doing, making people happy. As Queen comes on we
start the actions to “We will rock you” in a row with the girls selling the
programs. The spectators coming to use the smoking area by us fall
about laughing. Yes, that’s what we do. We make people happy.
In doing so we made ourselves happy, and proud of our country and
our achievements. Yes even British people. Great British People.
P.S. If you haven’t already seen it put “Happiest Olympic Volunteer
2012” into YouTube and enjoy a good laugh.
7
(these are the first few lines of my upcoming autobiography -
due out early 2013!?)
Triathletes and marathon runners shouldn’t fear the end - finishing
a long hard run or Triathlon is a bit like dying. The day after you are
a just a bit stiff....
For those outside the triathlon fraternity ‘L’ is the age 60-64
category as defined by the British Triathlon Federation. Having
started my running career – if you can call it that - back in 1981
at the tender age of 29, I have now gone to L – literally....
Foreword.
Before 1981, my perception of long-distance running (or running
just for the hell of it) in the UK was that it was mainly for odd-balls
– people who had tried, and perhaps failed at the more
conventional sports at school. Track running, especially middle
distance events as part of Athletics had always had a fairly steady
following in Britain but probably more so in the 70s and 80s than it
is today? Perhaps the London Olympics might re-invigorate the
nations interest and more youngsters especially will head for their
nearest Athletics track. As I write however, I fear Team GB will
struggle to medal in all but a few *middle and long distance
running events and any glimmer of enthusiasm will fade before the
end of the year. * OK – perhaps a certain Somali born GB athlete
might do quite well!! Maybe it’s because that back in the 70s we
regularly turned out world-class middle distance runners. Coe,
Ovett, Moorcroft, Cram et al. The media jumped on the
bandwagon and these guys subsequently became household
names. Running finally was beginning to look ‘cool’ and british
youngsters had a belief that they could be the best runners in the
world.
Road, trail and marathon running was still distinctly a minority
sport. I remember from school the 1962 film and book “The
Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner” by Alan Sillitoe and that
galvanised mine and I guess a lot of other peoples views of running
– i.e it was a ‘lonely’ old business. However in 1977 things were
stirring in the USA. People – lots of people- were out running.. to
get fit, to compete in the occasional race or just because they could
– and yes it actually felt good!
A guy called James (Jim) Fixx had written a book called the
“Complete Book of Running” and in so doing helped launch the first
global running boom.... and over in Hawaii, a top endurance
swimmer, an ultra distance cyclist and marathon runner decided to
challenge each other to an IRONman Triathlon. The following year
in ’78, 15 triathletes took part and the rest, as they say, is history.
The running boom inevitably crossed the Pond in ‘80/’81 and I,
along with many others got caught up in this new sport and pass
time for the masses.
From 1982 to 1986 running exploded in the UK and mainland
Europe– events appeared everywhere – from 5 miles up to the
Marathon. Established athletic clubs didnt quite know how to cope
with the influx of new runners who weren’t particularly interested
in track running. New clubs were formed – Striders, Road runners,
Fun Runners, Runners, Joggers and Shufflers sprung up alongside
the established ‘Athletics Clubs (AC)s’
Triathlon didn’t really take off big time until the late 1980s but by
the mid to late 1990s was itself booming, with runners, swimmers
and cyclists all keen on giving multi-sport a go.
The great thing about Running and Triathlon and probably one of
the main reasons for it’s success is that you don’t need to book up
a venue, don’t need to check whether your buddy or team are free,
the court or pitch is available, don’t need a referee and you are not
constrained by time – just take off wherever or whenever you feel
inclined. Cycle to work, run to work. Run before work, swim at
lunchtime, run home from work, run and bike with the kids in a
buggy. It was and is just a case of being imaginative. Innovative
event organizations took advantage of our lust for all things
running and all manner of races appeared on the scene.
Although Triathlon will always be a summer sport unless you have
the means to move hemispheres twice a year, there is no real
season for running, it’s just as much fun (off-road) in the snow as
t is on a beautiful warm summers day.
It was this thinking that coaxed me away from football and squash -
30 years ago and set me on a journey of discovery. This is my story -
a pretty average runner and triathlete, someone who likes to
compete but, more importantly, enjoys the training experience, the
cameraderie of like-minded people exploring the countryside and
testing their minds and bodies against the terrain, the elements and
pushing to see how far and how fast they can do it. Sometimes I
prefer to run and bike alone, sometimes with a big group. More
often than not I like hills, woods, mountains and heathland, but
other times it’s fine racing on flat tarmac against the clock. By
including Triathlon, the scope for adventure is even wider – road
cycling, sportives, racing across continents!, MTB on trails, open
water swimming in lakes, rivers
and sea.
I first saw the light one warm May morning in 1981. Still in the
Company’s squash league, my buddy Ray suggested we try and
get a bit fitter and he took me on a 3 mile run around the Colworth
Estate where we both worked. We didnt have proper running
shoes, just a pair of old Green Flash tennis shoes. We set off at an
easy pace and after about a mile or so came that ‘eureka moment’.
I had run a bit like this training for football and being forced, at
school to do Cross-country when the football pitch was too
waterlogged, but now I suddenly just enjoyed doing it – running.
Feeling the warmth of the sun, the breeze, listening to the birds,
seeing new countryside. We weren’t racing, just running a
comfortable pace. It immediately made me question why I wanted
to go into a big box and hit a little green ball around for half an hour
or more. I carried on playing squash for a few more months but the
writing was on the wall. ....I had become a runner.
My Journey To L.....From The Colworth 5 to The Race Across America,
Duathlon, Triathlon, Ironman and back again...
Stories from 30 years
of running, cycling
and swimming...
By Richard Piron
8
Looking backon 2012, the Olympicsand all thatWhen Adam asked me to write an article for the magazine my
thoughts were a) another year gone by, already, how? and b) did
anything remarkable actually happen in 2012?
Well, the Queen celebrated her Diamond Anniversary and even as a
non-British person I appreciated all the pomp and glory and I even
watched some of that endless boat procession. When it comes to
putting on a spectacle the Jubilee was only outdone by the Olympics.
London really knows how to put on a show. I know that some of the
Harriers acted as games-makers and by all accounts it was something
they will remember forever.
Tickets to the Olympics were, allegedly, rare and so when we got a
request from my German cousin to book her some tickets my heart
sank. My cousin, her husband and their daughter Finja had a special
reason to be at the Olympics. Finja competes in the heptathlon and
represents Germany in her age group, she is 16 at the moment. Will
she compete in the next Olympics? Who knows. It’s a long and
expensive road for an amateur athlete. Anyway, she was desperate to
get in to see the athletics events and we applied for 6 sessions. We only
got the one session, but were so fortunate that it was the evening of
the “Golden Saturday” when Jessica Ennis won the heptathlon and Mo
Farah won another gold.
Their seats were perfect, everybody was friendly, the crowd was
deafening, everybody cried and for just one moment the stadium (and
the nation!) celebrated as one. I think if anyone appreciates the effort
it took for Jessica Ennis to win the heptathlon it is a fellow athlete.
Whilst not taking anything away from the efforts of Mo and the others
(and certainly not from the Iron men and women I know!!), I think it
takes a special person to win the heptathlon. You have to be good at
seven different disciplines. For the shot put and javelin throw you
want muscles, big muscles. But they are not very helpful for keeping
your weight down to make you run fast in the 100m hurdles, 800m
and 200m. You then need the skill for the high jump which requires
maximum precision so that you launch yourself at the right moment.
Anyway, we will be able to follow Finja’s progress in the heptathlon as
she is coming to stay in England for a year from September 2013 and
will train with Beds & County (did I hear “boo, hiss”?). She has also
taken up pole vaulting so if you see us lugging her six poles around you
will know why. We are learning a lot at the moment, for example that
you need different poles for different conditions so they can be longer,
shorter, more bendy, more rigid etc. She currently clears 3.20 metres,
just measure that against a wall and look up and imagine yourself
jumping that high, I get vertigo just imagining it.
Oh, one more highlight of 2012: Watching Bev Hayes and fellow
runners in a race, all dressed in their school uniforms. Allegedly, the
organisers have asked them to come back every year dressed like that
as it really drew the crowds. It actually just confirmed what I have
always said: “die Doofen werden nicht alle, sie werden Mitglied bei den
Bedford Harriers.” Loosely translated as: “Bedford Harriers are all a bit
nuts but quite lovable with it”. Happy New Year and Happy Running.
Photos by Ian Sturdgess
9
By Jutta Crane
From 2005 as a CompleteBeginner
I joined the Bedford Harriers in 2005 as a complete beginner. The first
time our group were able to ‘run on the road’ we felt like ‘proper
runners’. Since then I have done races from 5K to Half Marathons and
Triathlons. I am proud to say I was on the Race Management Team
which I can recommend to everyone, if you can’t run the race it’s nice
to see it from the other side. Everyone that you cheer on at races is
very appreciative of marshals and it makes it a very worthwhile job.
I also completed all of the Cross Country races last year just so that
I could get my beanie hat (which I haven’t worn yet!). I recently moved
to Weymouth but I have to say I am VERY PROUD to have been
a Bedford Harrier for the last seven years. I have met some fantastic
friends through it and if anyone had said to me years ago that I
would be a runner I would have bet money on it that I wouldn’t.
I say GIVE IT A GO, you will feel fantastic after achieving something
that you perhaps thought you couldn’t do. Thank you to everyone
that made it so special.
By Elise Allen
Still Some NicePeople in theWorldOne nice group of people are the guys at the Beds Garden
Carers our chosen charity for this year - When Paul Sutherland
showed me round their HQ in Brereton Road, Bedford. He
introduced me to a bunch of guys who
love sanding and restoring furniture.
Over a year later when it was
brought up at the committee
meeting that our lovely bench that
was kindly donated to us in
memory of Doug Anderson was in
need of some TLC I remembered
this fact. I phoned BGC asked them if
they would mind putting their skills to
good use. Of course they said yes, they picked it
up and spent many happy hours sanding polishing and oiling
the bench to restore it to its former glory and returned it back
into situ. It now looks great and should be good for many years
to come - a big thank you to BGC.
Maybe if you have time, take a trip round to our lockup where
our bench lives and spend a few moments testing the bench
and admiring their good work.
As a footnote the restoring team leader at Beds Garden Carers
was so impressed with the quality of the wooden joints that
are now few years old he decided to phone up Stuart Garden
Architecture who made the bench to tell them how impressed
he was - the next week a van pulled up with a brand new top
quality bench for the charity as a thanks for such a nice phone
call - that's another bunch of really nice people!
Beds County XCThe championships were well under way by the time the
Harriers needed to be there, the men were starting at 1pm for
their 3 or 4 laps (11k approx) depending on age and the ladies
starting at 2pm for a mere 2 laps! (5k!!)
The course was all on grass with some very steep hills and then
the massive descents - all of it was muddy and slippery! It was a
great venue to watch the race as you can see a lot of the runners
and seeing who had fallen over with their sides covered in mud.
The men went off for their 4 laps the over 60’s only having to
complete 3 and the temperature decided to drop so out came
the scarves and hats but this did not stop us cheering and
encouraging them round the course. There were some fantastic
sprint finishes and a good result from the men.
The ladies, all 4 of them, started and the faster ladies did lap
some of the remaining men on course. Again watching and
cheering our ladies into 2nd Vets team and age category
winners.
It is hoped that the organisers will up the distance for the
ladies as only 2 laps is rather an insult on their ability!!
Next is Parliament Hills and I shall be running this event -
pink spikes have been ordered.
Results
Anna Folland 2nd Lady, 1st vet and 1st vet 40
Kevin Willett 1st Vet 45
Alastair Fadden 3rd Vet 45
Neil Lovesey 1st Vet 50
Richard Piron 1st Vet 60
at Campbell Park, Milton Keynes
Saturday 5th January
3rd Vet Men’s Team
Kev Willett
Alastair Fadden
Gary Finch
Chris Linney
Dave Roberts
Neil Lovesey
By Angie Kay
By Alastair Fadden
10
2nd Senior Ladies & Vet Team
Anna Folland
Sally Cartwright
Sally Johnson
TestingEinstein’sTheoryApparently Einstein claimed that 98% of people could not solve a
riddle about European male smokers and drinkers. His puzzle has
been recast using terms more familiar to runners (and to discourage
sneaks on the web!). Can 10 or more Harriers solve it?
The top 5 runners in the Shires Road Race Championship came from 5
different clubs and each celebrated their success with a different drink.
Each runner used a different brand of shoe and different colour shorts
throughout the season, and each had the best WAVA percentage at one
of the 5 contested distances.
The Hurrier was the Shires’ champion.
The Jogger wore red shorts.
The Ambler was best at the marathon
The runner in green shorts was best at 10k.
The runner in yellow shorts wore ASICS shoes.
The runner in Saucony shoes was best at the 5k.
The Plodderwore Nike shoes.The runner who wore
New Balance shoes drank white wine.
The runner placed 3rd was best at the half-marathon.
The runner in Adidas shoes was placed next to the one who drank beer.
The runner who drank red wine placed next to the one
who wore ASICS shoes.
The runner in green shorts placed just ahead of the one in black shorts.
The runner in Adidas shoes placed next to the best at 5 miles.
The Hurrier placed next to the runner with blue shorts.
The Striders member drank lemonade.
Who celebrated by drinking water?
Life on theFront Row ofthe GriddleDespite my best efforts to poison all the runners at our very own
Half Marathon, once again I was asked to cook the sausages and
bacon. I arrived a 8 o’clock armed with 5kgs of chopped onions
(thank goodness for swimming googles or I would still be crying
now), homemade vegetable soup and various cooking utensils.
I fully expected to have to setup the oven, tables and the gazebo to
find this had all been done for me but right round the corner from
my normal near kitchen position. OK...so who have I upset this
time? But the reality was the night shift of the setup crew had
attempted put up the gazebo and it had exploded in the high winds
and it was considered more sheltered round the corner - good call,
thank you chaps!
Apart from the oven and hob flames being blown out on a regular
basis all was going well, bangers and bacon coming off the
production line. I just needed the kitchen staff to sell them a little
faster and we might just cook the small food mountain that had
been supplied for the morning!
With the bacon smell slowly working it's way across to Cranfield I
managed to attract my first friend of the day a local farm boarder
collie dog. Always with health and safety in mind strong words like
'Go away' and 'Shoo' at first I appeared to have the upper hand! But
this hound was playing the long game. At first it was a quick dip into
the bin pulling out a batch of burnt Onions which was grabbed and
taken into the play ground to be dispatched (I guess it was a little
fruity in the farmhouse that night). Time to get the upper hand
again and box up all the meat, hide the bin and keep half an eye on
my four legged friend. Apart from the odd bit of packaging that was
lifted by the wind I was winning the war.
Cooking in full flow, bacon and onions on the grill and a full batch of
bangers nearly cooked in the oven and I had to make an
announcement to the kitchen staff - 'I'm very sorry, but I can't serve
the sausages and there will be a short break while I solve a minor
problem - the blasted dog has stolen my oven gloves' - (you will be
glad to know that the Harriers property was recovered with the aid
of many years of running finally been put to good use!) Zoe soon
came to the rescue with the aid of couple of a clean tea towels, but
it took a little longer for Jutta to recover from laughing at my
expense! Round two to the dog.
With everything wiped down again and cooking back in full flow, the
soup was bubbling on the stove and the make shift oven gloves
doing the job. The dog was keeping a low profile, maybe that hard
stare and moderate language did the trick. This sly old dog had one
last game to play on me before the end of play. This time coming
from the other side of the building coming out of the shadow a
quick grab and he's got my wooden spoon (not one of my prize
winning one's). Shuttle run training this time let me down - the
closer I got to the hound the faster he got. The last I saw of the little
pest was on the horizon mashing my spoon like an old stick. (may I
use this article as invoice for £2.99 to the Harriers for a new spoon?)
If I find myself on the griddle next year I would like to put in an
equipment request to the race management: a spare set of oven
gloves, more disinfectant and a Toy Nerf Gun with a bag of foam
bullets in case my furry friend wants to put his title back on the line
for a rematch!
By Bob WellsBy Alastair
Fadden
11