Idiot of the Year. Duh!

This was going to be a post about my niggling calf muscles which seem to start playing up after an hour's running but that's been overshadowed by a much more important (and embarassing) discovery:

I'm not entered in this year's Jungfrau Marathon!

I've spent the afternoon looking for my entry details. I've been on the provisional starting list for months (and have just discovered the definitive list only on the German part of the website!). I have a dim and distant memory of having tried to pay my entry fee using the credit card payment facility on the JM website only for it not to work. I seem to remember emailing them about it as well (I'll have to check it out). [Update: I have checked and found that I did email them but didn't receive a reply.]

Anyway, net result is that I'm not in it. This is tempered only slightly by my niggly calf muscles which I reckoned probably wouldn't last the distance but it would have been nice to find out.

So, with my flights and hotel booked I'll be having a weekend in Lauterbrunnen.

What an idiot :o(

Pakistani Panic

I nearly forgot to tell you. A couple of weeks ago I was running along a road near the forest when I saw ahead of me a load of posh cars parked up (mostly big fat black mercs) outside a big fenced building. There were a few blokes milling around outside. It wasn't until I was within a few yards of them that I noticed they were all driver / body guard types. As I approached they all looked at me nervously and patted their pockets or put their hand inside their jackets. Inside the fence there was some kind of party going on and a Pakistani flag draped on a flag pole.

So there's me complete with bottle in hand and bag round my waist running at a gang of armed and edgey men. I couldn't stop as that would have made things worse so I just kept running hoping that they would give me the benefit of the doubt.

Needless to say I came back a different way.

Trams, Drains and the Dark

Last night I thought I'd be clever and get the tram out to Tervuren, which is on the eastern edge of the Foret de Soigne, then run back through the forest to my flat. This would let me get into parts of the forest that would normally be out of my reach. So off I went only to get to my start point at a belated 8:20. This gave me about an hour or so of daylight for a 12 mile run through unfamiliar forest. Ooops methinks.

So off I set. By the way this was the back end of a 30 degree day so it was a trifle warm and sticky. Everything's going fairly smoothly with me having to check the map at just about every junction (couldn't afford a wrong turn). A couple of miles in I hit Runner Central. Near a suburb called Auderghem (or Oudergem for my Flemish friends (hope I got that the right way round)) there were runners everywhere. In the space of twenty minutes I must have seen twenty individuals and three clubs out running. Must be something in the water there.

A couple of miles later and I'm following this track which on the map appears to cross the main railway line only to find my way barred by a ten foot high fence with no other likely crossing point for miles. Fortunately I'd previously been on the other side of this line and knew that there was a storm drain that went underneath the railway embankment. I just had to find it in the woods. I thankfully chose the right direction to look and found it about 200 yards away. This drain allowed a stream to cross under the line. It was about four foot high, a couple of feet wide, a hundred foot long and full of cobwebs. A small price to pay for saving a three mile diversion.

By the time I'd navigated this it was starting to get dark. Under the trees it was doubly dark so It wasn't long before I couldn't see the ground I was running on. Fortunately I was back in familiar territory so I didn't have to read the map any longer.

As if this wasn't enough ny right calf was tightening up in that worrying 'just aout to tear' way. So decision time, do I walk and get back at midnight or keep on running. I decided on the latter keeping a very close watch on the calf. It started to cramp at one point which scared me but I eventually managed to get back to my flat in one piece at 10 o'clock.

Didn't see many joggers in the park funnily enough.

Trees and more trees

To summarise the last few weeks I've been getting acquainted with the afore mentioned Foret de Soigne (or Zonienwoud depending on which side of the Flanders (Flemish) - Woloon (French) divide your allegences lie). I've got to the stage now where I don't have to take my compass with me (apart from last night (see next post)).

If the truth be known it's actually Dave's compass. He kindly let me have it when I lost mine when I went up to do the Three Peaks. On close inspection the dial is calibrated into 64 divisions instead of the usual 360 degrees. Very useful. Picked it up cheap says Dave. No bloody wonder says I. Anyone any idea what these 64 things are?

Back to the woods. A word of advice to anyone who manages to get a run in these woods. First get a good map then choose a route that follows the sentier (footpaths) rather than the tracks. They are much more interesting and scenic.

I've been getting into the woods a couple of times a week. The first part of the wood that I enter from the direction of my flat is actually a park (pond, cafe, joggers etc.) but you're soon into the forest proper where you see the occasional runner but its fairly empty most of the time. Last week there was a guy in the middle of the forest practising his trumpet playing. Makes a change from birdsong.

I've seen a couple of red squirrels, one of which didn't seem to notice me and just kept shuffling around in the leaves just a few feet away. Not like the grey squirrels at home that scoot up a tree if you so much as look at them. I've also seen evidence of the wildboar where they'd been rooting around a tree making a mess of the ground.

At first sight it all looks pretty much the same but after a few visits you start to recognise the different paths and tracks. There's a couple of paths that follow streams (dry at the mo) that I particularly enjoy as they are twisty and rolling and great for running along. I bet the woods look good in autumn.

Coming back you have to go through the park and you get to play 'burn off the jogger' to your hearts content. I know it's wicked but it's great fun. While I'm at it can someone explain to me why when it's nearly 30 degree centigrade you would think it a good idea to go for a run (sorry, jog) in tracky bottoms, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, a scarf and a hat? Seen it more than once in the park.

Is it me or what?

P.S. Decided to enter the Brussels Marathon on Oct 5th. Be silly not to while I'm here. It goes past the end of my street.

Concrete Cow Half

Apologies to anyone who's been on this blog in the last few weeks for the lack of posts. Hopefully I can make up for it a bit now. So where to begin?

Oh yes there's my pw (personal worst) in the Milton Keynes (land of roundabouts and concrete cows) half marathon. This took place on 20th July. The weather was almost perfect and the course was flat (albeit largely on paths and tracks)and I was feeling not too bad. I'd had a few weeks off what with moving to Brussels and the old head cold from the last post. The race was fairly uneventful. It's not a bad course but it does have a lot of twists and turns which prevent you getting your head down and cruising. I seemed to be going fine at what I thought was a 90 minute pace but when I got to the end the clock read 1:35. Taking off the 20 seconds or so it took for me to get to the start line that's still a sub 1:35 in my book. That keeps all of my halfs over the last 26 years between 81 and 95 minutes. Fairly consistent in the circumstances. That's ignoring the Bath Half which I ran in a leisurely 2:25 with my daughter Lucy.

Liz Yelling came second in (I think) 1:11.

So, all in all, not overly disappointed but there is room for improvement.