Adam in Runderland

This year I have been enjoying more long distance running and, in particular, trail running. This has given me a new lease of running life. Hours spent on rough trails surrounded by flowers and butterflies, climbing hills and admiring the views, chatting with friends, basking in the warm sun and enduring the snow. My stamina has increased massively and my legs and glutes are much stronger from all the hill work. After 7 months I have now banked over 800 miles, way ahead of schedule. I’m loving it and will continue to run like this, but… There’s always a but. It does mean that I have neglected my parkrun times. Not a bad thing but I would like to get back to a decent time on a Saturday morning rather than incorporating it into my long run. From this week I’m starting to mix it up a bit. I’m going to add some speed work to my long runs and re-establish some core exercises too. This means the mileage will drop but I should reduce my risk of injury and be able to compete near the f

Last Saturday I met John for a run before parkrun. The aim was to get in a few miles as a warm up and make it to our hill (Summerhouse Hill) which we hadn't run up for many weeks. We set out from Cheriton in Folkestone and made our along a new track which took us beneath Castle Hill and under the M20 through fields. We emerged at the bottom of Dover Hill which we ascended at a brisk but steady pace. From here we turned towards the west and ran along the North Downs Way, past the White Horse drawn onto the hillside, past the entrance to the Channel Tunnel and towards Lmypne. At this point we considered heading back into Folkestone. We would just make parkrun if we did. But we had set our hearts on climbing Summerhouse Hill so jogged on under the naïve impression we could do both. As we ascended through woodland I found a rope swing and couldn't resist a quick Tarzan impression - although a less Tarzan like impression you couldn't find! Soon we found ourselves retra

Sunday 22 nd July had become a popular date. In Folkestone there was a sandcastle making competition on the beach and an air display by the Red Arrows in the sky. However, I had already committed to attend a church service in Shipham near Bristol to speak about Mission Aviation Fellowship. That same afternoon Tim and Georgie Vallance-Webb were hosting a going away party at their house in Surrey and I was invited. They are going to Arnhem Land in Australia in a few weeks to fly planes to remote Aboriginal communities. I have worked closely with them to fin the funding they had been required to raise. The service was at 10 and I was due in Surrey late afternoon. When I saw that Shipham was only 3 miles or so from Cheddar I knew I would need my running kit. I ran the gorge a few years ago when I was due to running on the flat. This was my opportunity to challenge myself with my new hill-ready legs. The Gorge was formed when meltwater floods cracked the Mendip Hi

“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path, and leave a trail.” Ralph Waldo Emerson One of the reasons I love running is that it enables you to explore and discover new places. Last night John and I went for an evening run around Dover. We started with a steep 8% incline for the first two miles leaving us panting and sweating as we reached the top of the hill. A good warm up. We then made our way through Whitfield to the north of the town and headed back down into River, a small suburb on the outskirts which must have once been a village. It has a watermill, some quaint little cottages and lots of 1970's housing all around it. Crabble Lane leads out of the area up another very steep incline. Again we gasped and heaved ourselves to the top, now to the east of the centre. I had driven through this area a few days ago and spotted the ruins of St Radegund's Abbey so we jogged to it. The Abbey was founded in 1192 by the White Canons, named after t

A few weeks ago, I was running in Leicester when my hip started to hurt. A sharp pain high up on the top of my pelvis stabbed me with every step. At the time I was only a couple of miles from the end of the run and so carried on running through the pain. The next day was agony, and the next. I realised I was going to have to rest and use ice on the area. As a precaution I booked a physio appointment knowing it was not just a niggle. When the time came to see the physio, the pain was still as acute. After some investigation it turned out that the left side of my pelvis was a good inch higher than the right which was caused by tightening in my right leg. There followed a long hour of sports massage which, if you have had one you will know, is not a pleasant experience. Soon my pelvis was level and the area in question – the iliacus and psoas - had been thoroughly pushed, squashed and pressed back into shape. The next day I sported a hefty bruise the size of my hand in yellows and gre