Black Toes and Lager

Off to London in the morning packing my kit already am sure I will forget something. I am looking forward to afterwards a nice pint of ice cold lager, fantasising already. The preparation has gone pretty well. I had a stiff calf and I must thank Stu for recommending Ray Pescod for some remedial massage because it worked like magic. I was slightly sceptical I thought it was almost akin to voodoo, but I am now a convert. I raced last Saturday at my favourite race of the year, The Coniston 14, though this year it was again the17 mile course as the bridge at water Yeat still hasn't been repaired from the storms a few years ago. The view around Coniston particularly towards the end with the Old Man in the Background is outstanding.

This was my 5th running of it. My first was my second most unsuccessful race, my right calf tore on the hill up to Brantwood and my foolishness at continuing to the finish caused a partial tear of my right Achilles.I returned a year later to complete it more successfully and since then it has become the only event I run every year. It is not only a beautiful race it is so well organised and friendly too, can't recommend it highly enough.
Despite my best intentions to run it slowly I did end up pushing it. I started slowly and was quite smug as I watched people race off into the distance. It was good not to be running against the field but just feeling what felt comfortably extended within me. I after a couple of miles i noticed I was running smoothly and consistently reeling people in most of whom seemed to be blowing like whales. I was delighted to have my best ever finish in the race in really quite hot temperatures and picked up a prize £55 voucher for the best running shop I know, Pete Blands. I have already mentally spent it!

No real side effects afterwards either, except black and blue feet. My feet don't usually suffer much and it's typical that the first time would be just before London. Of all the things I worried about as a consequence of running Coniston it wasn't feet with toes that look like frostbite. I am sure they will be fine by Sunday though.

Here's to a cold damp London Sunday and an ice cold lager afterwards.