So far this year, I haven't actually entered an ultra marathon or any event for that matter.
Part of the reason is that ultra training is a serious commitment and, with me regularly working away from home, I'm not convinced I could give an event the preparation it deserves. Then there's the house move, which has consumed far more time and energy than expected. On top of that, I'm still getting to know the local area and what's on offer in terms of events.
And, if I'm being completely honest, the last ultra I did, the Rose of the Shires, didn't exactly leave me desperate to sign up for another one. In fact, I found large parts of it pretty boring.
What has surprised me, however, is just how much running I'm doing anyway.
At the moment I'm comfortably averaging over 100km a week and am usually running six days out of seven. Not because I'm training for anything specific, but simply because I'm enjoying it.
There are a few reasons for that.
Firstly, the weather has been kind. We've had a succession of heatwaves and very little rain, meaning the trails are bone dry and fast underfoot. Yes, the ruts are still waiting patiently to twist an ankle, but generally speaking conditions have been excellent.
Secondly, it's the middle of summer. Even when the alarm goes off at 4:30am, there's enough light to get out the door without feeling like you're embarking on some sort of Arctic expedition. Better still, the sunrises have been spectacular. The kind of sunrises that make you stop and take photographs despite knowing full well that nobody else will really appreciate them as much as you do.
Perhaps that's a bit weird.
I also seem to be discovering more and more local routes that I genuinely enjoy. Quiet trails, rolling countryside, interesting wildlife and, perhaps most importantly, long stretches where I don't see another soul.
Perfect.
Another factor has been combining business trips with decent places to stay. By "decent places to stay", I obviously mean pubs.
I've found myself staying in all sorts of locations that happen to have excellent running routes nearby. Some take me through beautiful countryside, while others snake through industrial estates and business parks. The latter may not sound particularly glamorous, but they'll come into their own during winter when I'm trying to squeeze in runs in the dark.
I should probably also acknowledge the fact that my hip flexor has finally started behaving itself after somewhere between 18 and 24 months of niggles and frustration.
Touch wood it stays that way.
I'm fairly certain this miraculous recovery has something to do with actually performing the stretches my physio told me to do. Funny how that works.
With all of this extra running, it naturally means I can start planning a few challenges. As mentioned in previous blogs, I've already run to Wetherby Brewery and York for a few beers. Both were excellent days out and gave me a taste for combining running with brewery visits.
Most recently, I completed another route I'd been eyeing up for a while: a run to Harrogate for a visit to Rooster's Tap Room, followed by a detour into Knaresborough for a quick pint before catching the train home.
When you tell people you're running to Harrogate for a beer, they tend to assume it's some epic undertaking.
It really isn't.
The route to Rooster's worked out at roughly 21 miles. Not because Harrogate is particularly far away, but because you can't exactly travel as the crow flies when you have the A1(M) and a collection of busy A-roads determined to ruin your plans.
The weather could not have been better. In the days leading up to the run we'd been enduring temperatures well into the mid-thirties. For the run itself, however, it was pleasantly overcast and only climbed into the low twenties. With little wind to speak of, conditions were just about perfect.
The route itself was surprisingly straightforward.
I headed out from home, crossing the A1(M) via a few familiar villages before making my way towards Wetherby. From there, I followed the disused railway line towards Spofforth Castle, tracked along Crimple Beck towards Plumpton Rocks and then navigated around a field containing some particularly lively-looking cattle.
Having previously endured a near-death experience involving bovine hooligans, I felt caution was entirely justified.
From there it was down towards the River Nidd, into Knaresborough and then along the main road into Harrogate. As it turned out, running was probably the most efficient mode of transport available that day.
The area was absolute chaos because the Great Yorkshire Show was in full swing. Apparently around 35,000 people attend each day, and to make matters even better, one of the major roads was closed because of a burst water main.
Typical.
As an aside, we'd actually considered going this year but discovered they don't allow dogs. Since our four-legged dictator has a habit of influencing family decision-making, that idea was swiftly abandoned.
My timing couldn't have been much better. I arrived outside Rooster's Tap Room at 11:56am, a full four minutes before opening time. The poor bloke unlocking the doors clearly wasn't expecting to find a sweaty man in running gear standing outside waiting for a pint. I suspect he was hoping for a quick vape before starting his shift, but to his credit he welcomed me in and served me first.
The beer was largely excellent.
There was one exception, which carried an unwelcome hint of my old nemesis: diacetyl.
I was also mildly disappointed that they didn't have Yankee on tap, the beer that arguably put Rooster's on the map. Apparently it was due to be connected later that day.
Why they couldn't simply do that immediately for my benefit remains a mystery. In fairness, I'm being harsh. The staff were friendly, accommodating and happy to chat.
After a pint of Blonde, a packet of crisps and a three-beer flight, I decided to continue on to Knaresborough, which was only another four miles away.
Before catching the train home, I squeezed in a swift pint at the local Ossett Brewery taproom. Said pint had to be consumed at a pace considerably faster than is generally recommended, as it was only around 2:30pm and I still intended to participate in Friday Beer O’clock later that evening.
All in all, it was a cracking day out. One I'll definitely repeat.
Over the next few weeks I've got a few more run-and-beer adventures in mind. Realistically, though, most of my mileage will come from the usual work routine.
- Drive to wherever I'm working.
- Spend all day in meetings.
- Return to hotel (pub).
- Run roughly ten miles.
- Shower.
- Change.
- Take laptop to bar.
- Have a couple of pints while finishing off work.
- Wake up absolutely starving.
- Consume a full cooked breakfast.
- Drive to office.
- Repeat.
It's a tough life.
That said, I've got a particularly good weekend planned soon with a mate who's coming up to visit.
The plan is to stay in Masham, the lovely North Yorkshire market town famous for being home to both Theakston's and Black Sheep breweries. For beer enthusiasts, that's pretty much the equivalent of a pilgrimage site.
We're planning a proper run around Nidderdale, taking in plenty of moorland, hills and what can only be described as gloriously lumpy scenery. The reward, naturally, will be a few beers back at the hotel just off the market square.
The following day we'll head back to mine before running into York for a wander around the city and, you've guessed it, more beer.
To round off the weekend, my good wife and I are heading to Yorkshire Heart Vineyard. Yes, a vineyard. In North Yorkshire.
We're attending a country music festival and have decided to camp rather than endure the inevitable hassle of arranging taxis.
How exciting?
At least that's what I keep telling her.
She might also join me at the Rivington Farm Trip at the end of August, but that's a story for another day.
Si ‘thi
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