A little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back!

The champagne taper programme doesn't work. Rivers of the stuff consumed in the week before the race and I'm still shedding the pounds gained on my two week's all inclusive break in the Dominican Republic and all the running around which an international move entails was adding up to a predicted poor performance.

While I wish ill on no man, to hear Ken was under the weather and on anti-biotics was almost a relief. In the end I got terrible sneezes and snivels on Friday and almost cried off myself. By Sat. evening I was feeling close to 75% and after a glass of red wine felt I would give it a go.

Ken turned up too. His comment on the start line was "It's all your fault, if you were not moving to Geneva I would have been in bed or on an easy five miles." Well, I guess the race was preferable to a lifetime of abuse on the subject!

The guys presented me with a brilliant t-shirt, pictures below.



My race strategy was negative split and to get behind Ken at the start. There was no way I wanted to run the race waiting for him to come through.

After Ken had finished chatting up all the ladies they could start the race. I checked his position some twenty people ahead of me and decided that was fine and locked in at that. Choppy start with too many people for the path so the marshals had a hard time keeping everyone on the pavement. All settled before the first mile which I made around 8 mins, but was quicker as I'd got the start wrong. Still not too sure where it was.

Anyway the pace increased slightly as Ken made his way through the pack, taking the optimal viewing route at every possibility. My black compression socks were also being worn by some of the more fashion conscious young female competitors. By now I was right on Ken's shoulder and he had no idea I was there. He nearly sent some guy in a club vest flying and I could not resist a comment as I drew level. Ken was surprised to see me. We went along at just over 7 min mile pace and clearly neither of us was red lining as we were able to chat a few words.

I thought about dropping him a couple of times, but wanted a slow outward half and staying with Ken delivered on that. 36:20 at 5 miles and somewhere between 4 and 5 I eased away from Ken. At the 5 mile mark I could hear some big effort behind me and some very wheezy huffing and puffing. Ratchet. Relax the arms. Think form. Head up. Away. Don't look back, you can never look back.

Moving through the field now. Take a sharp turn and the huffer and puffer is back. Bother, I'm thinking this could be Ken trying to do another GUC to me so it's ratchet two. I make the work on the hill (I'm supposed to be stronger on the hills), focus on paced recovery on the downhills and try to shake the huffer. No joy. There was a massive puddle right across the road before the bridge back over the M1. The marshals were putting us over to the muddy grass at the side. Group of 7 ahead and I processed two possible routes
a) right through the water (rejected on the basis of 3 more to go, too many to do soaked then
b) accelerate past the group, jump over the water to the kerb, under the trees, back out though the mud and by pushing of on the kerb I figured I could just make it to the shallows.
b) was a go.

Full speed and a jump got me in front of the lead guy and the last bit got me into 20mm of water so I just kept dry feet. Recovered to the top of the hill and the huffer goes past. Zut alors! The best bit is, it is not Ken!

By now I've lost count of numbers past since half way, it must be around 20 and I still feel good. 3 more miles and I kick slightly to see if I can over take the 6 people between me and a little chap that might be Paul. Kick again at 8. Get by the huffer! Kick at 9. On my own now and long way to the next group. Focus hard on form and keeping the effort high.

Dig deep and start closing the gap at half to go. Go around the last bend first marshal tells me I am 100th position and a lady marshal reads the look on my face and shouts "400m to go mate - kick", I nod and just a shade higher stride gets me the acceleration I need to close in on the back guy in the group. There is a dip and I catch him at the bottom of the hollow where I see my Running Fource buddies and they all raise a cheer as I go past. I accelerate in response to full speed and a guy in a red top responds and we are level and locked in mortal combat for the coveted prize of 97th place - this stuff is important - and the Rocket Inside was unleashed for the final time on English soil and I got him! Chest dip got me over the line before him and I crashed right over the line through the funnel over the tape and into the crowd. Two spectators caught me and pushed me back into the funnel.

I had to agree that elite Simon's analysis was sound. To finish like that clearly meant I could have gone faster sooner. But the time of 1:10:29 was ok. I did a negative split, but not enough to get under the 70. Given the whole build up I'm cool with that. Pleased to finish ahead of the sick Kenny and his ghost pushed me in the second half.

Paul's stonking performance is exactly two week's all inclusive holiday better than me and he's agreed to fix that in August.

So I'm off to the Swiss mountains and lake. See ya!

Up the dirty old canal one last time

I was just about to see if Martin wanted to go for a run when his name appeared on the screen of my phone.

We met up and headed to the canal. The place is a tip. Rubbish everywhere with low lights including a tree full of running kit and a dead deer floating in the canal. How on earth did that poor thing end up in there?

Made it to the start of the park and then stopped at Martin's request for a spot of stretching. 25 mins to here.

The way back was much more eventful. There was a bloke who over took us and was clearly working very hard to do it. So while we both thought about moving up a gear to destroy the poor fellow, we were chatting away which kinnda made the point that we were clearly on an easy run.

Next up was the red menace that came screaming over the side canal bridge coming straight for us at speed with a look on his face that said 'I am Steve Scrutton and nothing can stop me!' I'm sure he accelerated when he saw us and we got hi 5s as he went past, he was travelling far to quickly to grunt let alone speak.

On the route back from the canal I reflected on the state of the place. With a little effort and respect the place could be quite nice, but it is a tip and I won't miss it.

Just before the meeting point the we came across the elite leading the Lockett's Rockets out to the canal and as we ran though them got lots of smiles and camaraderie. A few stragglers were trying to catch the main group, I doubt they did as ever the pace was pretty punchy.

Right out side the office I bumped into Paul Savage who tried to talk me into another 5 miles, but I needed to get back for something so declined politely.

Must have seen about 20 runners out today that I knew, now that is something I will miss!

Another thing I'll miss is the steam room. It is ideal for heating you up after a cold run and just big enough to be able to run through my stretches.

So that was that. The parties are beginning to catch up with me and so I need some serious sleep over the next few days to be in any fit state for the Fred Hughes Race on Sunday.

Easy four miles

It was letter day at work today, so it was nice to escape with my good buddy Brian Malthouse and blow away the tension in the office with an easy four miles.

Brian was mocking my hat, gloves, technical t-shirt with technical long sleeves as he pulled on some cotton tri number. As the ice cold rain spat down on us when we hit the river I was pleased with my choice of garb.

Another grey day in London over the well trodden Westminster loop. Tried to chat as much as possible to stop myself going too quickly. Worked reasonably well as it felt pretty slow, but fast enough to just break sweat at the end.

Noticed lots of runners around, overtook a few, but really was not bothered about that anymore at all. I knew I was on an easy day and couldn't care less about trying to keep up, my intense stuff was in the bag from yesterday's rockets.

Four and a bit miles cleared in 33:13 which is a shade over 8s. Happy enough with that especially as it felt pretty easy.

Honours at Last Ever Lockett's Rockets

Martin had kindly forwarded on my Geneva news to the guys at Lockett's Rockets so I got a fair few questions on the move.

On the way up a mad squirrel got under the Rockets and darted through the group in random directions before scurrying off towards the school. It nearly knocked over about three rockets and had the rest in stitches.

The lovely Sarah was there. I started to mention Simon-without-showers, but she cut me off. I don't work there anymore, there are no communal showers, each company has their own showers and if his doesn't there is a fitness first on the other side of the road. Actually, she summed it up nicely with "Tell him to join the f(censored)ing gym." So, sorry Simon looks there is no such thing as a free shower in the city.

Today was to be my last ever Lockett's Rockets and I was very touched to be closely consulted on calling the session (6 by 4 off 1, with 2 at the turn) and being ceremonially shoved to the front and made to lead the first rep.

Ok guys, the elite nod, fingers on stopwatches, and I shout AWAY! What an honour. All 15 or so Rockets are behind me and I set the pace, but within second Alan Barnes and the guy with the special shoes for reps go past, but Andy Weir calls a halt to that and gives me a minute at what feels like 100m pace before letting the rest of the elite go through. By the end of rep one it is B runners behind and I jog backwards through the recovery to find my C friends. Luckily Paul had brought some newbies along and I'd dragged Andrew along to see how it works. He even managed the first rep and then ran along behind.

I had Karen and Steve around me on rep two, but they pushed away and I eased through the third. During the 2 mins at half way we all kinnda regrouped and I decided to try to hold Sarah rather than Steve. Paul was cunningly only using 80 percent power saving himself for Sunday's Fred Hughes 10 miles and monitoring incoming bikes, checking for heelstrikes and generally enjoying the view from the back.

Rep five was a cracker. Steve and Sarah and I were all level and Steve made a break for it. He was looking around to see if I'd gone with him, but I just stayed tucked behind Sarah. He'd pushed too hard to get by and so as Sarah cranked the pace up slowly in response he could do nothing about it when Sarah and I overtook him. He was clearly gutted by that. By now I'd had enough and rep six was hardly a rep as it was so slow Paul was actually talking to me during it.

The clip back was predictably fast given the high number of elite out today, but it fine.

So that's it. I'm swapping the Regents Canal for the Rhone, the muddy puddles for Lac Leman, Green Park hill for the Alps. But the Rocket inside is there for ever. The times at the canal have been a mixture of agony, joy, laughs and the surreal. I've learnt much about myself here and will surely miss that noon calling to pain.

And I've found an ex-rocket who works in Geneva and has invited me to join her for some lunch time running. Could this be the start of Les Fusées Genevois?

Ventilation and dolphins liven up an easy five or six miles

According to Paul's detailed records they show that our first ever run together was exactly one year ago and he sent me the route, distance, elevation profile and mile splits as an anniversary present. That's two presents from Paul in as many days, his present of the 1972 vintage map of the Swan walk (with a face value of 10p) was also much appreciated.

East and easy was the cry and it was met perfectly by Paul and I dragged Andrew along who only came on the promise that it really would be easy. It was. We only dropped him once when we sort of speed up by mistake.

Down by the riverside there is a large round structure made out of red brick and wrought iron in the corner of a park. I inquired if anyone knew what it was for and Paul did. Nothing special it is the ventilation shaft for the Rotherhithe Tunnel!

I was soaking up the surroundings and noticed something new in one of the basins - a large wooden platform with a duck house on it. I wonder if it was claimed on someone's expenses!

Paul wanted to take me on the less pleasant, but new to me, route home and this involved a loop of the park with the Rotherhithe ventilation shaft in the corner which was actually warm as we ran by it.

Entering the king edward memorial park you could see a church in the far corner which looked inspiring and full of hope. Behind it in the grey gloom was a grim looking tower block which juxtapositioned with the church gave us a vision of heaven and hell.

This spiritual route became more biblical as we swung around the top side of the park the path to the church was indeed narrow and I got my buddies to keep looking forwards and fix their eyes on heaven (well the church) and not be distracted by the horribly view to the side. This made me think of Matthew 7:13 which is

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.

Next point of note was a sculpture of a dove cut out a slab of metal by the river which got us onto peace etc.

Andrew suggested London is at it's best on a grey misty day with low visibility and he has a point. It kinna slowly reveals it's self to you with surprises everywhere and no distractions in the distance.


Down by the river at Tower Bridge is a statue of a dolphin cavorting with a nude female. Comment of the run went to Andrew here as he described this one as "Flipper's little secret!".



We tried to run past the Tower of London, but the huge iron gates were locked so the three of us were shut out firmly like barbarians at the gate. About turn and up the hill. We went past two ladies for the third time, they were taking short cuts while Paul in true running fource style always knows the longest way between two points.

Paul called the five files from the honour God arch in 43:19 which made my pace guess of 8:30s look pretty good. Andrew and I had a bit more to and from our office to the start so call it six for me.

Very enjoyable run.

Slow ten or so miles

Today it was only Paul and I that met up and as I was so keen to try out my new bit of kit I went around to his house in the dark and rain. I was running around Paul's front garden trying to stay warm when he popped his head around the door and said, "Ohh. I've got one of those and we've still got a few seconds before seven, I'll go get mine."

We set off up the hill like an articulated lorry, both our head torch lights on full beam side by side in the middle of the road.

At the bottom of the steps to the Nicky line we needed to fiddle with our equipment for a moment to get the optimal settings for the dark path. The surface was wet, with the deep snow gone, but slushy sections covering ice in places. Turns out the best setting was us both on narrow beam running side by side we just about illuminated the path ahead well enough to get just past Ken's zone one pace.

Both of us admitted to being tired from the epic battle that was the day before's race which was reassuring as tanking any part of the route was not really in my plan. We played some silly games on the path, such as who's torch can hit the sign first? Lets point our beams at anything that moves and so on.

As dawn broke we were coming into Redbourn and through the common along the path Ken never knew was there all those years he worked for the Grid there. On the other side of the church I got to recycle some old jokes about the new cemetery and people dying to get in and show Paul a new stretch of footpath on the outside of the church.

Paul now felt obliged to take me on new ground of his own so no question of going up the Beesonend lane, which neither of us fancied, so left it was over the ford at Redbournbury towards the fisheries and then right up the footpath vaguely Harpenden bound. I recognised the back of the houses and figured we'd hit a path or a golf course - in the end it was a rather nice back garden we'd dragged ourselves through waist wet grass to get too. Could not run in the field as the mud was so sticky it felt like running with deep sea diving boots on. Doubled back to the golf course and out around their car park to the main road. Just opposite was a sneaky cut into the Rothampsted estate - more new ground cut. Then the tree lined avenue home, going the long way back to cut out station road.

End of an era, last Hare and Hounds

Paul and I were handicapped one and two, suddenly, we are the fast guys!

Note that Paul's last Hare and Hounds race was actually his first one. The handicap algo is average of (the average of all runs and your best run), but if it is your first race you predict your own time and on your second race you use your first race's actual time as your predicted time. Confused? Paul was.

Now, I have years of race history so my average moves slowly, down 2.5 seconds as I bust my target by 21 seconds last time. But as Paul's target was his time from his last race (which was also his first race) this meant that although I beat him by 11 secs last time this time I was starting 8 seconds before him.

He was complaining about this like a banker being taxed on his bonus.

Still, I was pretty upbeat about this being my last ever Hare and Hounds race and keen to see how the new route panned out.

The guy off 4 seconds ahead of me was called Alex and he had a bright yellow shirt on. Geoff was about 45 ahead of Alex, so I decided to make Geoff my target number one.

At the off I felt heavy and that I was not running lightly, Alex vanished quickly into the distance he was going too strongly for me to compete with him. Geoff was going well and I thought I was closing on him, but I was also aware of a lack of Paul. At the start of the 3 bridges route (on the far side of Westminster) a guy in white top and red sleeves appeared and cut in front of me. He was travelling just faster than I was and so I tucked in and drafted this section, closing on Geoff all the time. I could tell as the number of fish lampposts were dropping all the time 4, then 3 then 2 and then my red sleeved buddy stops in his tracks and shrugs at me as he's done for the day and I am not even half way! I keep plugging away and catch and go past Geoff at the place where the Duck goes in and out of the Thames. Get up the stairs onto the bridge and glance down to see Paul just getting to the steps.

Coming over the bridge I notice what looks like a bell sticking out over the side of the bridge. Some kind of safety warning thing? But to ring it you would fall in trying. Weird. Make it over the bridge and take the correct route around the ramp, not down the steps, and now Paul has caught me. He tucks in. I decide to hold him at least until we are on the next bridge. He comes level and I kick just enough. I was thinking he would not go for it on the up section onto Lambeth bridge so I was just concentrating on holding on until the ramp. As soon as we hit the ramp he tucks behind again. Over we go, 270 round and under the bridge. He drifts wide and level and I know he's got me. Under the bridge and up the stairs at Westminster. I'm huffing and puffing and finally he breaks away and shouts "Saving your self for the last mile mate?" Aye right.

With Paul finally past me all motivation to keep pushing hard goes and I slow to recovery pace. Half a mile on and I'm feeling miles better. Back to race pace. One mile out and I'm flying now. 6 to catch before Paul. He's 45 ahead and there is just a hint that I am closing the gap. But not fast enough. 3/4 of a mile out I catch two of them and cruise past already focused on the 3rd. Drive through the ramp and enjoy kicking up the ramp and get by the 3rd. At the apex of the hump on the bridge I catch and pass Andrew who grins an annoyed grin at me - his comment to me on the way down to the start was "I'm going to beat you this time!" He kicks, but I'm at close to sprint finish pace and as we turn the corner I accelerate up to 200m pace and drop him as Paul crosses the line. That felt really good!

Collapse in a heap at the end, and shake Paul's hand. What a brilliantly executed race he did, I'm well impressed. In the end he was faster, smarter (negative splits), steadier, more even miles, and tactically superior.

Now, I think Ken may have given me that cold he has.....

Plus jetting around Europe looking for accommodation in Switzerland and staying up late every night for two weeks is beginning to take it's toll.

Race times:
Paul 33:12.82, 2nd fastest, crossed line 4th started 12th (predicted fastest Hound)
Niall 33:48.29, 3rd fastest, crossed line 6th started 11th

Our new handicaps are:
Paul 32:42.4
Niall 32:41.0

Au Revoir Hounds and Hare, it's been great taking part and I will think of you ever third Friday of the month.