25th June 2017

Well this will be a tricky one to find any humour in. One man down due to injury and my usual source absent, hanging wallpaper back in Newton. Let’s see how we get on.

Just one week after the Tour of Tameside, we were racing again, this time set in the heart of rural Cheshire amongst the McLaren showrooms and a selection of Grand Design houses. Colshaw was the name of the hall that gives its name to the 10K and set in spacious and manicured grounds.

Five ‘Daddies’ would run this one but six of us were there. It is really heartbreaking to see Shaun injured. It’s like seeing a kid open his presents on Christmas morning and found out that instead of a Scalextric, he’d got a Barbie. It must be gut-wrenching to see everyone doing exactly what you want to be doing but to still turn up and support us says all you need to know about him. Hope you’re out again soon pal.

After the traditional early meet-up at McDonalds for coffee and porridge, we travelled in two cars; Shaun and Akkeal were in the silver Fiesta and Liam, myself and Paul were passengers in Frankie’s beamer. On arrival, we bounced across the rutted field and parked at a jaunty angle that drew amusement, especially from Liam who insisted on jumping in the car and parking it properly.

A short walk across the field led us to the race area which was already set-up with a number of tents selling running gear, coffee and food. Not for yet though.

Complaint!

Now its not often we have complaints on this blog but why-oh-why can’t a race number be transferred between one person and another, especially when both the ‘giver’ and ‘recipient’ are stood next to you? As Shaun was injured, it should have been a simple job of putting it in the name of Akkeal but they would not allow it (for us). Not five minutes after hearing this, a runner stepped-up and asked if he could use the number his wife had as she couldn’t run it and it was done there and there. If it’s a policy thats strictly adhered to then fine but don’t be selective based on who is asking. Enough said; back to the race.

Before the start

We got changed and donned our shirts then Akkeal unwrapped his new Piranha running shoes (still with the labels on) and gave them a test drive. The queue for the loos snaked across the lawns for about 200 metres with 15 minutes to go and that is not an exaggeration so lots of people decided to go for a ‘little jog’ amongst the trees. All loaded up with energy drinks, those trees will be 10 feet taller today. Once we were all reassembled with about 20 to go we got together right outside the hall for a group photo. You could imagine a rosy-nosed gentleman inside wearing a cravat staring out through the net curtains and seeing us outside then saying “Bunty, go and get my shotgun”.

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We’re off!

The race director called us to the start and it was only then we saw it was a big field (the number of people racing, not where the tents were). They called us forward and then we were off again. Akkeal got a little caught out as he was chatting to some Altrincham runners (“fast friends, fast friends”) when it started and was a little further back than he wanted to be. After crossing the line, we had about 100 metres before turning right onto a country road then a nice downhill start where it was still quite bunched and my early steps had me zig-zagging between people like suggested manoeuvres for someone escaping a madman with a gun. The course was on closed country roads and absolutely car-free. It was not entirely flat and had a few surprises here and there. After expecting and hoping for rain, the relatively warm weather was probably great for some but not me. I’m not a moaner but I do miss the frost, rain, sleet and snow which is my preferred running conditions. In Summer, I sweat like a turkey a week before Christmas so any form of air-borne moisture is welcome to me. At this point, I was ahead of Liam, Frankie and Paul and felt quite good.

Now one striking feature of this race is its setting as at one point, you turn a corner and you’re presented with a wonderful view; that of the Lovell telescope at Jodrell Bank. With just a month until its official 60th birthday, this 89 metre high parabolic dish has been harvesting data from space for 10 years longer than I have been alive. A truly amazing feat of engineering and still one of the most powerful of its kind and it was great to get so close to it having passed it on the train a week earlier coming back from Cardiff.

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The telescope was about 6K in and I still felt good. Soon after this I glanced over my shoulder and there was Frankie, running strongly and performing his famous ‘Frankie Flourish’ at the end. I tried to keep up with him but my best steps were behind me so I tried to keep up with Liam who was about 5 metres behind him. I ran with Liam for a while and I’ve got to thank him here as he really pushed me on at the end saying “Go on Pete, beat me”. Seeing the runners turning into Colshaw Hall ahead I just kicked-on and knew there was only a bit to go.

The finish was great along a tree-lined avenue with the timing mat some 200 metres from the gates. Liam and I crossed within a metre of each other, both recording exactly the same time of 45m:56s. Shaun was at the finish taking photos of us all (see attached). We were given a shoe bag, a piece of flapjack, a bottle of water, a banana and one gigantic, saucer of a medal!

Mrs Pete had been busy the night before and had made Mars Bars Cake (shall we called it “Daddies Delight Race Cake”?). We scoffed the cake and some additional confectionary that Frankie had brought from Starbucks (I know, just in case someone from his work reads it 🙂

Colshaw Hall is in a place called Peover so just before we left, Frankie had a little peover the fence.

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