On The Road

“I told you it was kicks. It’s all kicks man” – Dean Moriarty

After a fairly injury strewn 2017 that had some great moments, I turned my mind to 2018 and set myself two principle targets: the Manchester Marathon and a crack at the Bob Graham Round. Since November time, I have managed to fairly consistently train and get myself into pretty decent shape (for me) for Manchester, which as of today is two weeks tomorrow. I find it quite amusing, looking back to 2014 when I started training again, that I have only been running properly on the road for around about 18 months. I have still completed less road races than I have fingers on one hand. I’m a relative novice who always follows up running conversations with the gruff disclaimer that ‘I’m more of a fell-runner really’.  The reality now is that after a couple of years running and training primarily on the roads, the bits of fell races I’m best at are the flats, so there has been a marked change in my running preferences and abilities.

I think often when we commit a great deal of energy and time constantly to something we love or enjoy, our experience of it can become a blur and our only considerations or cares can take on a feeling of inherent imminence. I certainly find with running it’s easy to just bounce from one thing to the next without taking stock of where I’ve come from, only where I want to go next. In some ways it’s akin to reading some poorly punctuated passionate writing; there isn’t often breathing space, but if the room and time is given to pause for thought, then you realise that there was a great adventure buried in there somewhere. In light of this, I'm going to try to go back over this marathon training block and look at some of the things I've loved, lessons I've learned and lows I've encountered along the way.

1) "We are kept keen on the grindstone of pain and necessity" - H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

This quote is the moment in The Time Machine where The Traveller realises that the reason the Eloi have become the prey of the Morlocks is because their opulent lifestyle has caused them to no longer strive for improvement, whereas the downtrodden Morlocks must always work hard to survive. This has become one of my marathon mantras as it were, especially during the cold nights and recent snowy weather it has provided a timely reminder that hard work, perseverance and a relentless restlessness are the foundations for self-improvement. Alongside this, it is also really important to know when to rest, when to sit back and be proud or happy with what you have done and when to push on. I love the frenzied madness of running hard all the time and smashing out session upon season but I am learning that madness with a modicum of measurement is the only way to sustain good form, morale and incremental improvement. Even with constant reminders it's very hard not to overdo it and the edge of pain and necessity can easily give way to exhaustion and injury. I would say the taper has certainly come at a very welcome time!

 The basis for this marathon training block has been built on the idea that consistency and commitment are key to success. Due to various injury problems, mostly twisted ankles, my racing and training schedules have often been marred by sporadic injuries and a general non-committal attitude to planning a long term training cycle. Since November, I have only had three weeks affected by injury - one with peroneal tendinitis, one with a twisted ankle and one with a manky toe (think The Hitcher's thumb from The Boosh). This has allowed me to put in a few solid months work both in terms of building speed/mileage and also confidence. My weekly mileage has general been in the high fifties or low sixties, with one week into the seventies and I've found that this has really helped me to kick on and push through the harder sessions having already built a good base.

Alongside and complimented by the higher mileage, there has been an increased focus in the intensity and frequency of my sessions. I made a decision early on in training to try and put in a midweek run of two-thirds the length of my long run each week - one of my best sessions in this whole block was a Wednesday night 15 miler out to Rawdon and then managed to suffer through 6 x 1km the night after...that's a double that I wouldn't have dreamed of doing little over six months ago. Other confidence boosts have been that I have been breaking PBs in training quite a lot, partly because I do so few road races but also because the higher mileage has allowed me to focus on my speed in specific sessions. It's been a real eye-opener as to what I can get out of my legs and mind and also a confidence boost looking forward as I feel that if I can extend the consistency over a longer period of time then there is a lot more improvement to come.

2) You must suffer in rhythm - Sartre

This is another of my favourite things to repeat to myself, it's usually a thought that creeps into my head when the going gets tough in races. As a quintessentially time-based discipline there is a lot of focus on working like clockwork and just grinding out the miles at the pace you need to build the confidence and platform to go out and compete at whatever level it is you compete at. At the start of this training block the intended marathon pace was 6.45 per mile, then it went to 6.40, then 6.35 and now I've got my mind on 6.15 a mile as my goal pace (roughly 2.43 pace). Pacing and rigidity go out of the window on the fells as the ups and downs lead to natural ebbs and flows and you have to adjust for multiple climbs, tussocks and other natural obstacles; road racing is completely different - it's pedal to the metal for as long as the legs and mind can endure. My sessions on the canal and hard tempos have been an exercise in dancing around the 'man with the hammer' and I've thoroughly enjoyed  getting to grips the mathematics and science behind long distance suffering. I guess it's been particularly satisfying as I have often had a tendency to 'crack' in the big moments before, to pick up a niggle or just have a wobble in the head game but the knowledge that there are certain concrete targets to hit, whilst sometimes disheartening, has been overwhelmingly positive and given me certain mental checkpoints to tick off.

3) Fortune favours the brave - Virgil's Aeneid

At the heart of my enthusiasm and bounciness for running is the belief that at any given time I'm just going to churn out one result that is truly outstanding. Fell-running with its ebbs, flows and variation helps to garner that belief because you just never know what can happen. Road running is far more formulaic but I still try and keep that youthful mischief of 'who knows' when I race.

This training block I've raced the PECO season, a couple of parkruns and then my big pre-marathon race was the Spen 20. Each of these have given me some valuable learning experiences. PECO was great insofar as it was second-in-priority to my training and for all the PECO races I did a long run the day before of up to 21 miles...the burning legs and general shattered-ness were an apt precursor to the real heavy stage of marathon training. It was a real boost to see my performances go from the fifties to nearly breaking into the top twenty in the league by the end of the season; next year I will look to hopefully break into the top fifteen or ten and really mix it up. Looking back on the cross season it was probably the lack of pressure I put on myself that allowed some good results despite hard training.

Parkrun and the Spen 20 are similar because all my runs have been quite opportunistic and just concentrating on gutsy 'from the stomach' running for the most part. I've been thrilled to kick on a lower my 5k times over the past couple of months to currently sitting on 17.19, whilst taking a first finisher at Woodhouse Moor is always really cool - it feels like a proper racers parkrun so it's something I'm proud of. Spen was somewhat a dress rehearsal for the marathon, I intended to run at pace and see how things panned out. In the end I went off way faster than intended and was running in a little group of runners aiming for 2.05ish. Having initially aimed (with no idea of what constituted a good time, pace or knowledge of the course) at 2.13 as a great time and 2.10 as a dream, I was dragging myself into deep waters. At six miles I remember thinking fortune favours the brave and just entering the pain cave for the next fourteen miles and waiting for the imminent blow-up...it never came and I was elated to run a 2.06 and finish 8th. A real confidence boost and an all-time running highlight for me, probably my best race ever!

These results have really enthused me about the prospect of racing at a higher level and getting much better results. For the future I would like to have a good crack at twenty miles as I think it's the perfect race distance in terms of being a long slog that you can race pretty recklessly and on a guts and glory approach. Certainly one of my aims for the future is a sub-two twenty miles.

4) I'm so tired, I can hardly type these worfs - Lemony Snicket

 It can get to the point where I buzz so much with excitement about sessions or races that I can spend the night before just wide-awake with anticipation and nerves, then I go and smash the session before being thoroughly knackered the next day. Like last year during Steve's Paddy Buckley, I had around 3 hours sleep in 36 hours where I ran for 18 hours, on the following Monday I was literally snoozing whilst waiting for printing at work! 

I can honestly say that marathon training is absolutely knackering. Each mile of running could be matched by an hour of sleep and I'd want more! My usual tactic of treating racing and training like something someone else is doing and I just live vicariously through them whilst working and living has gone out of the window. Any opportunity to nap is taken - spare minutes at work waiting for laminating are wasted minutes unless your eyes are closing. Got a spare half hour before run club? Nap. Saturday afternoon and the game is boring? Nap. 11pm - perfect bedtime. 10pm - even better. 9pm - go on Tom, treat yourself! Marathon training like constantly being between a sleep and a hard pace.

Foam Rolling and Donut Eating - Staple Foundations

 Eating is part of the tiredness game too, ravenous devouring of food whilst foam rollering makes me feel like a hobbit requesting second breakfast, then elevenses, then brunch and so on. Hot cross buns and work biscuits have constituted prime training fuel. Certainly one of the biggest and hardest lessons to learn are that nutrition, rest and generally looking after my body are just as important as smashing out endless miles. I think that marathon training and hard training in general is a tightrope between passionate commitment and burnout.

5) “Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times.”   - Nichollo Machiavelli

The one thing that the past six months have confirmed to me, regardless of whether I smash out a great performance at Manchester or I completely Cadel Evans over the A-Roads of South Manchester, is that my love and commitment to running at a higher and higher level is bigger than ever. Since being a scrawny twelve year old kid turning up to school cross country club, I've loved running, the stories, the characters, the hard work and the role it takes in my dreams and desires and now as a scrawny twenty-five year old kid, the flame burns just as brightly. Looking forward to the future I want to do it all - I want to do different races, run great times, go to amazing places and most of all be able to do it with the amazing group of friends in the community that I have had the good fortune of coming across.

This block has already got me casting my mind forward to bigger things - upping my mileage during training blocks will bring more improvements I'm sure, higher intensity work and trying out different races and disciplines will help round me more and more. I intend to complete a track season at some point in the next couple of years, whilst revisiting the fell scene properly and having a crack at some European mountain races are prospects that make me feel giddy and excited. I think the great thing about reflection and looking over how things have gone is that in enjoying them it gives me the hunger to push on and just see what I am capable of.

Thanks for reading - sorry for banging on, I'm out of practice with this writing thing...too much running instead! 

Happy Running! 

Burnsall Classic

When it comes to taking part in classic events, you can’t get much more classic than Burnsall – the clue is in the name. The race has been a fixture in the fell-running calendar since the 1870s after a group of pub-goers decided to plan a race route to the top of the hill and back down again; one of them, a young whippersnapper named Tom Weston, decided to give the course a quick trial and allegedly ran naked to the summit and back. The race then became an annual event and is truly one of the most revered races in British fell-running history. At only 1.5 miles and 850 feet of ascent, Burnsall is one of those ‘must-do’ races, a piece of genuine running heritage on our doorsteps – well a forty-five minute drive away (thanks for the lift Paul).

There have been numerous legendary performances at Burnsall; a race epitomised by a lung-busting ascent to the heraldic ‘flag on the fell’ and then a soul-searchingly ferocious descent over some of the roughest, heather-bashing terrain known to man (or goat). As a geeky junior fell runner I spent plenty of time looking up accounts of Ernest Dalzell’s 1910 record where he ran an unbelievable time of 12 minutes and 59 seconds, including allegedly nailing the whole descent in 2 minutes and 42 seconds. Dalzell eventually passed away in the Great War but his legacy lives on, albeit his record was eventually beaten by Fred Reeves in 1977. It has only been bettered twice: by Reeves in 1977 and Jon Wilde in 1983.

Records and performances that would be the stuff of legends weren’t my focus for this race. I knew that this was an important one in the Hyde Park Harriers Fell Championship. Early championship leader Richard Edwards was on holiday and I have been engaged in a little tussle with Michael Vargas over the first few races. We both had two wins apiece and this would be a rare show-down between the two of us. I felt that the rough nature and technicality of the course would suit me once we got to the descent but I also knew that Vargas’ ability to power through the pain barrier could lead to a really gut-wrenching chase on the ascent. To make matters even more interesting, Dan Cross (who had finished 7^th the year before) turned up – I had a rabbit to chase.  There was a really good turnout in the end: myself, Dan, Vargas, Colin (back from Portugal and having done the 10 miler), Sam, Naomi and Paul, with Dan Waas and Toby on chief cheering and burger consuming duty.

We got there in plenty of time as Paul and Sam were going to do some miles before and myself and Mike decided to recce the course (complete with coffee and cake). I had done the junior race in 2009 so I had a general idea of the starting ascent but I quickly realised that the junior route had all the easy running and that what lay beyond that was the real test! A quick walk up the hill revealed what was in store and we scouted out the descent to try and find the best route off. We even managed to accrue some local knowledge and eventually were content with the optimum way.

The race started off at a hell of a pace and myself, Dan and Vargas all were running together through the first (STEEP) field, I was tucked in behind Dan and Mike was just behind me. I could see the elite of UK fell-running streaming off into the distance as Sam Tosh took the race out hard and Victoria Wilkinson was doing a fine job of possibly being the best female British runner around, she was comfortably in the top 10 on the climb. As the climb got steeper I noticed Mike had dropped off a little and I was still managing (just) to cling on to Dan as we made our way through the heather at the top; I was feeling ecstatic with my position, especially knowing that the rough descent on the way down would favour me.

Now I have a dodgy right ankle. I also really like horrible, nasty, technical and foul descents. The two really don’t go hand in hand at all so this time I had a great idea; I’ll tape my right ankle up. As we got onto the descent I managed to take two runners straight away and was just getting back on to Dan’s shoulder when SNAP, my left ankle went. This had never happened before and I felt like I’d lost an air of invincibility – it’s my right ankle which is screwed, never my left. I immediately eased off and thought I’d have to walk back in and screw up what had been a good run up until that point. I realised that I could still run-ish on it and a quick look behind and no Vargas spurred me on through the last couple of fields and into the finish – it was a super painful ending fuelled by adrenaline. I was very happy to get over the line in 20^th place in 19.03, around 20 seconds behind Dan. I had my customary collapse over the line and waited for the others to come in.

Mike came in not far behind in 31^st place, impressive considering he’d also destroyed Oakwell Hall parkrun that morning. Colin was next (after completing the 10 mile road race) but appears to have been omitted from the results. Naomi was followed in closely by Paul and then Sam came through a couple of minutes later to complete the HPH set.

Even though I ended up missing the best part of four weeks whilst my foot recovered this was one of my favourite and most anticipated events of the HPH calendar. It’s akin to being able to run in the Prefontaine Classic or riding a queen stage in the Tour De France. I really hope it is in the Fell Championship next year and I think the 10 mile road race is a good shout for the Road Championship too.  This is one of those ‘must-do’ races, at least just once to say you’ve done it, so hopefully I’ll see a few more HPH there next year (and this year’s contingent returning).

Beamsley Beacon race - 22nd June

Ten Hyde Park Harriers made the short trip up to Addingham for the latest round in the Fell Championship: Beamsley Beacon. A serious crash on the A65 had myself and Paul (who had kindly picked me up from work so I could race) sweating that we would miss the start but in the end we got there with plenty of time to spare. The subsequent 15 minute delay to the start of the race was well received as we caught up with the eight other Harriers.

I have been extremely excited for a long time about racing on the fells for the club as it’s really my first love when it comes to running and I feel like I’m much more comfortable at home on the fell than on the roads. My day at work consisted of plenty of excited bouncing around and the odd extra cup of tea, with a few more custard creams for vital hydration and pre-race fuel. I even exploited my running of the Year 3 and 4 cross country club to make sure I got an extensive pre-race stretching regime with some good drills in – I was really up for it and the nervous wait in the car as we hit traffic and obstacles only heightened the anticipation. The evening before I had looked at previous results and decided that a good target would be to try and get under 40 minutes for the course – running watchless I had no way of tracking this but it was something in the back of my mind as a good gauge of fitness.

The race route itself was mostly a straight forward affair from what I’d heard in the previous days from browsing forums and the FRA page, with the exception of some murmurings about a shortcut on the descent worth up to three minutes. It combined all the great aspects of traditional Yorkshire fell racing - runnable climbs, technical descents and route choice – with some really fast trails and roads leading out and back to the fell. I particularly enjoyed the ascent as I managed to get into a good little group and we worked our way up the hill steadily overtaking people all the way. I was trying to judge my effort by keeping a couple of runners I knew in my sights, they were about 30 metres clear of me and I held that gap solidly for most of the climb. I died a little about 3 minutes from the top but managed to grind out a lower gear and just about get there in a decent place – I reckoned I was about 15^th.

The descent was all about trying to find the ‘Golden Ticket’ of the shortcut. I’d heard that it was a twisty technical run through an easy to miss ginnel. At the top of the climb I could just about see a Wharfedale vest disappearing into the distance so unashamedly I hung back and waited for an Ilkley vest to come past me and he confirmed that he could indeed show me the way. We managed to get past a Wharfedale runner just off the summit and then plunged down the technical descent. I’d said that I wouldn’t just follow him then sprint him at the end but I very quickly realised that his descending skills on the rough stuff were far better than mine and once he’d duly shown me the way he disappeared off into the distance.

The run down to the finish was a fast affair back through the fields. There was one little sting in the tail – a footbridge and climb up some switch-backing stairs back up onto the road. I managed to slog it up the last uphill realising that I was in a no-mans-land, the runner ahead was too far gone and the runner behind me was considerably far away. I kept pushing the pace all the way back along the road as I felt really happy with my run and when I finally made the last push over the line (just a street corner outside a pub – you have to love fell racing) I was told I’d finished 13^th and in 39.14. I was ecstatic and bounced around more avidly than even before the race.

I then jogged down the road to watch all the fellow Harriers finish. Jimmy defied the sleepless nights and lack of miles to come in second Harrier, then Scott (who had taken a wrong turn when trying to find the ginnel) came in just ahead of Robin who had a storming run for 11^th lady. Jonathan Mason was in not long after looking incredibly fresh. Andrew Mitchell was next in just a shade over 55 minutes. Two Harriers stormed through in under an hour with Richard Edwards and Paul Dickens finishing in quick succession. Rick Pullan followed a couple of minutes later and then Dote Stone, having made a navigational error, came in to complete a successful outing of all 10 Harriers to the top of Beamsley Beacon and back.  

A quick drink in the pub with an inspirational tale from Dote about her recent fell exploits in the Lakes (I need to try that Buttermere Horseshoe route) and then it was back to Hyde Park to pack for my Paddy Buckley adventures with Steve Rhodes and company! It truly was an awesome start to an incredible weekend.

Top stuff everyone.

Hyde Park Harriers Results Below.

 

Tom Thomas – 13^th – 39.14

Jimmy Sheldon – 53^rd – 45.00

Scott Watson – 93^rd – 49.47

Robin Culshaw – 96^th – 50.17

Jonathan Mason – 125^th – 54.18

Andrew Mitchell – 132^nd – 55.42

Richard Edwards – 144th – 59.05

Paul Dickens – 148th - 59.50

Rick Pullan – 156^th – 1.02.40

Dote Stone – 162^nd – 1.05.53

Something about running uphill (and my struggles to get better).

Got carried away writing a response on a forum. Please note that all of this is probably rambling useless pseudo-informative opinion but for what it is worth my attempts to get faster uphill has made me think a lot about how to get better...this is kind of what I've tried and has worked for me. I'm no expert and it's a long post but there might be something of some use to you.



1) If you want to run fast hill (you finished in the top 40% so any real improvement would be taking you probably into the top 30 at least) so you first of all have to look at the amount of real speed you have to play with. Fast hill runners are fast runners on the flat and there's a definite correlation. There's the odd runner who has an uncanny knack for ascending quickly (usually with a caveat like super steep) but generally your top end climbing speed is well linked to flat pace. There's a little deviation but not as much is made out sometimes.



2) Running uphill is certifiably the best way of improving uphill speed. Hills at any time are great in training. I try to put them in pretty much every run in some way, except for the odd flat tempo session which will probably have less than 30ft of climb per mile. Hill reps are good, as is running uphills in steady runs as tempo efforts and even slogging around a long hilly run. I'm lucky enough to enjoy running uphills so I don't mind it too much.



3) When I do this in conjunction with some faster running at some other time (usually a flat tempo run or an interval session on the road) I reap the benefits of this even more. I've been running strongly uphill- by my average standard - on two occasions in the past three years, both times I was combining good speed work on the flatter stuff and a lot of hills in my running. I don't do silly-short reps or but I mix up track and road stuff to get a bit more top end speed.



4) Strength work is a massive help. One of my biggest problems with running hills has always been a tendency to keel over a little and probably have too weak quads for the picking my legs up. I've tried to sort that out by doing a fair bit of core work: various planks, supermans, pull-ups, press-ups and also deadlifts. I've always done a bit of outright strength stuff like a chest day or arms and stuff but really that's maybe a couple of easy days a month - it does help though and you won't get ridiculously big like some people think. A lot of fell runners think they'll do a few press-ups and then all of a sudden they'll be getting cast as Arnie in the new Predator reboot and no longer able to get around a BOFRA on a Saturday afternoon. Strength work is a really good thing to look at seriously as a way to improve, it's certainly helped me loads over the past three years I've been doing more of it with my running. It's one of those things where as I've improved at it my running has always improved as well...it's also a good thing to do on a rest day! I don't really do any leg specific stuff like quads, calves, hamstrings etc because I like to rest my legs so I can run hard in more sessions...it's a choice made at the moment out of what I enjoy doing more but if I seem to plateau I'll look to add more in for certain. The one thing I do frequently (sometimes daily) deadlifts with a light weight (bodyweight), generally I do it when I've had a bit of a niggling injury in my leg as they seem to be a miracle cure and they really hit the legs.


4) Recently when I've been thinking about my uphill running I've noticed a lot that I can blow up quite hard from running too quickly at the bottom. I've started trying to make sure that when I'm climbing my breathing is completely regulated and I'm not blowing too hard. Usually the speed difference between breathing heavily on a climb or keeping it calm and controlled isn't too far apart in terms of speed and it's always better to be getting time back at the top than trying to clutch onto seconds as people reovertake you after half the climb. I've practised this a lot on running a lot of steady hills at tempo pace but concentrating on being on that edge for breathing controlled. Obviously you might have the mental pain to push on that much harder side of hard on a climb and not bonk - for me I'm working towards that but it's a long slog (much like most hills.

In short, to try and get better uphill I've had to do more uphill running, do strength work and also seriously look at improving my absolute pace on the flat. Improving and calmer breathing seems to have been a good tactic when racing hills and might be worth a look at as well whilst you're doing those things.



A really long answer that I enjoyed writing more than intended. I'm no expert either so take it with a pinch of salt, they're pretty logical though and loads of people would recommend them, I'm pretty much just repeating various things I've read and tried myself - these are the ones which I enjoy and seem to help me improve. I'm always trying to consider what to do improve more, usually as a side thought when I'm running up a hill and I promise myself I'm going to do more yoga, more leg strength work, more reps, more everything. Just pick some things and try them - eventually you'll find some things which work and are fun.

Happy running.

LS6

Disclaimer: This is not a blog post inspired by Arthur Lydiard- LS does not stand for long and slow, nor does 6 mean 6 miles, 6 kilometres or 6 lots of anything. This is a blog post in tribute to and inspired by a humble postcode.

There are not many postcodes in this world whose simple combination of letters and numbers have an air of excitement, mystery and maybe even infamy. I can think of a few off the top of my head, SW19 is famous for the hallowed turf of Wimbledon, Stockton 209 for the hallowed toughness of the Diaz brothers.....then I'm left scratching my head. Perhaps it is the case that postcodes are secondary to place names, street names or even names of individual buildings. In this age of false news, divided communities and general disillusionment are there any new postal giants waiting to put themselves on the cultural map, not just on some now disgruntled privately-employed postman's delivery list?

For a group of runners living, training and making ends meet in the shady backwaters of the student wastelands of Leeds one such postcode is firmly placing itself as the scene of an athletic counter-culture. Away from the great fabled training locations such as Boulder, Bloemfontein and Chamonix this post code, composed out of parts of Beckett Park, Burley, Headingley, Hyde Park, Meanwood and Woodhouse, is taking it's place as an icon of modern running; a mecca in a place fit for a Mecca Bingo. Looking past the fears of a 'Broken Britain' and overcoming the shadow of 'Trump's America', we have a place where dreams become reality, where every terraced row is a Strava segment waiting to be conquered and every lamppost has claimed a victim on a pack tempo run. It's easy to think of a postcode as just being comprised of cold, hard geographical facts but as great jazz maverick Howard Moon once so memorably replied when asked the question "What is LS6", the only true analysis of this peculiar location is to say "LS6 is a place, LS6 is state of mind."

It is easy to see how the locations named previously have installed themselves as the monumental locations for running. Boulder is simply stunning, a community built upon the principles of living high in the mountains, a place where every lunch time runners head out to put in serious mileage. Running isn't just part of the culture there - in many ways it is the culture. Chamonix has altitude, views and some of the best mountain running in the world. My all time favourite place - The Chew has some of the finest trails in the UK and views to match. It is a little harder to capture the spirit and clamour of LS6 in such simple terms; the place is for the most part a slightly gritty, run-down student area with more of a reputation for being a drug runners hotspot rather than one for serious runners - on the face of it it's very much like a bespoke area designed to be the locale for a Shane Meadows film.

Perhaps it is the characters of LS6 who are emblematic of the spirit of the postcode. I don't generally  mean the zombified students, snope sharers and the bedraggled figures who congregate outside the Brudenell but they in some part do encapsulate the spirit- a stoic attitude in the face of new interest charges on student loans, an attack on liberal values and the on going relentlessness of Brexit attitudes. LS6 endures. These are the stories and fables of LS6. It is a place looking inward but projecting outward, it's a hive of activity - gigs and social justice on every street corner, loud house parties and yet for a few it's about unlocking their running potential. The stoic attitude is the same, a grim reality - dodging dangerous drivers, clueless stragglers and pot holed pavements in search of self-improvement. Being waylaid by the pesky traffic lights at the bottom of Cardigan Road, the abuse of the local drunks outside Sainsburys - 'pick those knees up' or the catcalls of the drunken girls misspending their youth in an Uber.

Since moving to back to Leeds in August, I have been blessed with the good fortune of meeting some absolutely fantastic people through my running. My new club Hyde Park Harriers is made up of a couple of hundred members who are all amazing and made me feel very welcome from the start. I've found a great training group of runners who are all committed to self-improvement and also to the improvement of the runners around them. I think this is one of the things which has instilled a new found love for the area. I love the fact that in a relatively small area there are so many highly performing runners with as much of a passion for running and training hard as myself. I've come on leaps and bounds in the past 8 months and that is in no part down to the fantastic people who I've met through running in Leeds and I'm now extremely lucky to say I've got some really good friends at the club.

I've had my fair share of running clubs over the years. I started out training at East Cheshire Harriers but they weren't really for me. Then I tried Sale Harriers - same thing there. Saddleworth came next and they were the perfect fit for me at the time. I feel like they did a great job of reigning in my over-zealousness for long distances at young age whilst also giving me the push and support I needed growing up. Other clubs included Calder Valley (for a couple of years) and a short spell at Bingley Harriers. After a few years injured, I made a Wilfred Zaha-esque return to Saddleworth Runners and ticked over. Until I joined Hyde Park, I hadn't really felt that the clubs I'd joined, other than Saddleworth, had really fit with my aims and ambitions. First and foremost, I'm a running enthusiast, I love running and everything about it from race stats, training hard, going to new locations and reading anything about running I can get my hands on. Over the past few years, I think Saddleworth has kind of changed its focus  and increasingly has become less top-end performance-centric and more about being social and running as a part of that, so maybe I was coming to the point where I had to find faster people to train with.I love the club and the people but admittedly I'm hungry for improvement and competition. Certainly, I found joining Hyde Park to be very refreshing and to be able to consistently train with a decent number of runners who are all around or above my pace has really brought me on leaps and bounds. I'm even managing to be very sociable by my standards. I'm currently helping to organise the Calderdale Way Relay teams for the club so I've been doing lots of research, reccying and getting to know everybody...I even think it's going alright for someone with about as much organisational consistency as the guy from Memento. If you are ever in Leeds for any reason on a Tuesday or Thursday night then you should get yourself out with HPH- they're just wonderful!

Then we get to the actual locations. For many inhabitants of the 6, this area is comprised of raggedy, damp terraces and the impending feeling that the TV License people are going to check on your false claim of not owning a TV. For a runner, these streets provide a comforting home of discomfort and fatigue. Akin to the favelas of Rio, the terraced mountains of Royal Park Road and Manor Drive rise high above the primordial soup like beacons of hard work and determination - former residences for many successful students but the stuff of dreams for the aspiring hill runner. The relentless red brickis punctuated by a plethora of green spaces; ranging from large parks to small snickets like going from uncovering treasure chests to hard-found trinkets, it's a canvas for training creativity and it's all out there to be discovered. Want to do a hard interval session, head for Burley Steps, want to go for a fast trail run then head to Meanwood, want to do hills then choose a direction. You truly are spoilt for choice here and as they say variety is the spice of life.

The great marathon runner Wilson Kipsang commented in an interview a while ago that one of the things which makes him so determined and able to endure pain for such a prolonged time is his living conditions when he is training hard for his events up in the mountains in Kenya. LS6 has that element to it- run down houses with uncaring landlords, a reputation for being able to see your breath indoors even in summer, Soviet-style kitchens with as many as six people sharing one toilet in a house. It's practically the perfect location for the discomfort needed to thrive as an athletic performer.....but if it gets too much then Grove Café is just down the road and it has a fantastic menu (you can even get vegan pizza) so it's not just for the masochists.

I haven't wrote anything on this blog for over a year now so I thought it was time to get something new (and not very serious) written - I don't believe everything that I've put here but I do put this to you - If Kipchoge lived and trained in LS6 then he'd have definitely have found that 26 seconds.

The sanctity of the Sunday Run

"The problem with quotes found on the internet is that quite often they're not true"- Abraham Lincoln

I'm a big believer in the sanctity of the Sunday run. It's necessary, it has to be long and it has to be enjoyable.

When I worked at Up and Running, Neil my colleague said that he didn't understand why runners after racing on Saturday insist with Sheldon Cooper like (not his exact words) steadfastness in going out and putting in a long and steady effort. The argument is clear, at some point that mileage becomes dead mileage because it ceases to be useful. For some reason I just disagreed, with the same sense of steadfastness, maybe after years of long Sunday runs I've adopted the Scott Jurek approach that 'sometimes we just do things'. However after considering it during and after this morning's run I think I've figured out why it's so intrinsically important to me as a runner and also as a person.

 I find that Sunday runs are the best way of recharging my batteries both mentally and physically. There is no pressure to perform (which generally leads to running very well) and it's literally running for the enjoyment of running. In a results orientated world it's very easy to flog yourself between workouts because on Tuesday you wanted to run 6.30 minutes per mile but you could only manage 6.45s. You then go into the next session more likely to overcook it, which generally leads to overtraining, injury or falling out of enthusiasm towards the thing you love. The Sunday run is the great equaliser, it's the relative that doesn't care what you are doing in life, it's just happy to see you. I've always found that long runs really boost my mental energy and lift my mood a few degrees, settling into a rhythm where every footstep is the only imminent thing to think about for the next 3 hours is mindfulness in action.

Perhaps I'm spoiled because when I look out over the Chew, the two routes which appeal to me most are all the way around the edges from Alphin to Ashway then up Alderman and along to Pots and Pans (The Chew Valley Skyline) or the route which goes to the same points but takes in more of the great ascents of the Chew, so the ascents of Wimberry, Alderman and the Dovestone and the descents of Foxstone and Alphin. Both these routes are spectacular for instilling a feeling of mindfulness and taking you away from everything else and in order to truly appreciate them you need to do the full lot in one, and by the time you've done it's still bloody hard work. It's like listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, yes Zero is a great tune, as are all the songs on that album, but the complete experience gives it something more simply because it is complete, you have to feel the peaks and troughs and you get a completely different experience.. I feel the same about my favourite places in the Chew, yes I love running Alphin to Wimberry but there is something extra special about taking the time out to do the whole lot, the ascent of Wimberry is just spectacular having smashed down the track from Chew and swung the left ovet the footbridge. Spiritually it's like doing the Madeliene, Telegraph and then the Galibier, it's just right. Sundays are the perfect day for this, there's no need to fret about pushing on to the next place, just take five minutes at the top of each hill and look out at the wonderful playground made for your body to enjoy.

Today's run was probably the most enjoyable Sunday run I've had in around 18 months. Spring definitely feels like it is settling in and it brings like minded people with it. It's amazing to see so many people out enjoying the hills, the hustle and bustle of cities and work can be reduced to peace and serenity in a 20 minute train ride, how more people don't buy into what it is to 'be' will always confuse me, especially when it's on their doorstep. The sun was warm again which is lovely after a rather miserable Winter, the first signs of Spring bring with them ideas and new life to my running plans. I've practically decided that my racing schedule this year will be Rivington Pike, Moel Eilio and then a big build up to Snowdon where I want to go really well, over the Summer I might stick a lakeland classic in (be it Wasdale or Borrowdale) and then I want to end the season with the Peris Horseshoe, a race which has really gripped my imagination for years. As an aside, to anyone who has never taken the time to go and discover the mountains in North Wales, do, it's where I feel at my fullest running! Sometimes you need the hours on your feet to think and be free and make your decisions based from a perspective of true appreciation of the beauty of what you are doing otherwise plans like training come fast and frantic. I feel refreshed and ready for the next week, it's put me in a great place to go and log some serious mileage next week and build up to the first serious races of the season. So that's why I think I and so many other runners believe in the sanctity of the Sunday run, it's a tine for enjoyment and relaxation (not necessarily by running slow) and it brings each week round into a full cycle which is very important when we can get lost in big targets or blocks of training.

Auf Wiedersehn (as that means till we meet again and I certainly do intend to, thanks Dr Schultz)

Link to the Route de Chew (11.3 miles, 3100ft) https://www.strava.com/activities/193908006

Hi again!

It's been a while since I last sat down to write anything, so long in fact that in these first few words I am fumbling at the keyboard as my touch typing skills are severely out of practice. I think although I have not read it since I wrote it that my last post was tinged by a sense of disappointment in the Moelwyn Three Peaks and the circumstances around it. In the past three months or so I have had an enforced break from running, first the back injury and then torn ankle ligaments. It's nearly thirteen weeks since my mishap on the rutted descent from Pots and Pans back down to the Green Lanes. I consider it a humorous irony that my last words before uttering "I've broken my fucking ankle" and feeling searing pain that really took me back to a dark place somewhere around Edale in March 2011 were "Fleet, you know I think I can get top 5 in the Saddleworth Fell Race". The proceeding weeks have for the most part been a bit doom and gloom in terms of running and my attitude towards it, perhaps most contrastive with the amazing nature of the rest of my life at this current moment.

It can be difficult to distinguish between being a 'runner' and the rest of your life. There have to be allowances made on both sides, if I'm in all-out committed training mode then my diet, sleep and social life are regulated around my training. Over the winter I was doing 12-16 hours of hard training each week, my diet didn't shift at all- six days out of seven it was the same thing for every meal, every day with a dessert of 9 hours sleep. Despite the specific examples here, I don't think that this is a unique feature of running. I think it's an attitude that is prevalent in anyone who counts a passion as their driving force. You hear of musicians going into the studio to record an album and eating nothing but junk food chased down with a healthy dose of tobacco and beer. It's the same blueprint either way; you live to survive and you adapt to let your passion thrive.

When I discovered cross country and fell running as a kid I was content to just run and read about running. My diet and sleep were not tailored, neither was my research into training methods, variation and future goals. Even now there are periods when I'm ticking over where I feel it's completely the right thing to eat a full pack of Foxes' Jam Creams whilst cooking my tea, maybe every night for three consecutive weeks is pushing it a little far though. The important thing is that you should never push yourself to the level where a passion feels like an obligation or the demands you place on yourself are overbearing, if you're just running or painting or writing because you feel obliged to do it, then it's missing the point.

The negative aspect comes when it's not your own choice, you just can't do what you love. I said for a few months before I got injured that with weights and cycling I could deal with a running injury....the truth is I couldn't, it really hurt. Training was really solid for the first two months or so, lots of intense core work, swimming and cycling but in the past few weeks I guess it caught up, a strict regime has been replaced in parts by apathy, chocolate and restless legs. The range of emotions have been from upset, disappointment, begrudgingly hopeful but the one that really hit me most was walking the dog three nights ago. I hadn't done much for the past two weeks, just one single run round the reservoir with Fleet before he went to York to start his new job (congratulations again). It was about 9pm, the Sun was dazzling over the valley and as I looked up towards Indian's Head I got a real 'I miss you' pang. It's one part of my attachment to the valley, I just can't go to the places I love unless I'm fit to run to them. It's almost in my mind like the scene from Dame Snap's School in the Magic Faraway tree- the feast looks like cakes and lemonade but it's just bread and water.

I think about the valley more and more when I'm not running all the time, in some ways I appreciate it's objective beauty more. I notice the overflow at Ashway bringing the peaty water down to the reservoir, the mists that settle low in the valley on a bad day, the sun reflecting off Alderman. I've started to become a fan of walking to work instead of cycling, the slower journey gives me time to clear my head and have an actual look around. Every morning I feel truly blessed when I sling the left turn down the footpath at the end of the row and set off down to Tanners, I truly don't think that there is any more breathtaking a panorama in the world than following the skyline from Wharmton, to Pots and Pans, Alderman, Ashway, Foxstone and then the glance back home. In the early sun it's like the closest I think you can get to any notion of paradise and on a moody day the atmospherics and the fog makes me wonder how it is that there is so much more to life than the pleasant and the warm and yet people so often don't look out of the window on a miserable day. It's where my heart and soul truly are. I've been thinking recently that I must know the paths and trails so well that my foot placements on runs can't ever be more than mere repetition of all my previous runs, maybe my foot is placed an inch out here and there but for the most part I have my routes and I'd like to think my routes have me imprinted onto them. When I think about these things I realise that it's not about keeping fit, in fact I probably managed to get even fitter for the two months after my injury through cross training, it's just about being out on my beloved hills for me running as hard as my legs and lungs will allow.

Anyhow, I've just managed my second run in three days today. It was just around the reservoir but the Sun was beating down, the water was shimmering and all felt well both in terms of body and mind. I'm really looking forward to getting out on the fells again soon but until then I know that they're waiting; same places, same trails and the same views and yet each individual journey is as miraculous and eye opening as the first time.