This race was described as ‘undulating’ so I did not have high expectations! Training up to the race had gone well so I knew I was in reasonable shape. I thought I might use it to test out my fitness and see how I could do against the M65 age category record. As a fallback I had signed up for the Stratford Marathon which I know is a little flatter.

I woke early as planned and set off in plenty of time. 5 / 10 minutes down the road I realised I had forgotten my race number. Doh! After going back home and picking up my number it was down the M40 with no time to lose. The race venue was at Warwick racecourse and so was easy to find. Parking on a road leading to this wasn’t a problem and I found the way to the racetrack easily enough.

Looking to comfort break I saw a very long queue – surely not? Yes, Q4LOO! Found some more toilets with smaller queue – phew! Next, bag drop and straight onto the tail end of the starters and almost straight away we were off – at least on the 4 minute shuffle to the actual start. There were lots of runners. In fact I was thinking this is rubbish – I’m not doing this again.

I set off at a controlled pace (no choice!) which I think really helped overall. Weaving and wobbling along I made reasonable progress. I briefly looked at what my watch thought my pace was at about mile 2 but decided to just go with the flow from there on and not look at the watch at all.

The only other BvH runner I saw on the run was Claire Mullin who was happy and smiling (at that stage!).

I didn’t find the undulations as bad as I feared but took it steady up them and let myself go on the downhills.

I had a gel at the start and another at mile 7. Sticky goo on hands – what to do? I went for an Elvis quiff solution.

I enjoyed picking off runners and didn’t mind being picked off in turn. I was always expecting the runners I had overtaken to come back at me…

I think at the mile 8 marker I somehow read it as mile 9 – so I was very disappointed indeed to see mile 9 next and not mile 10!

The run in to the finish is downhill over the last 2km so it was push on and hope! I felt reasonably strong and mustered a bit of a sprint for the finish. Only then did I see that I had exceeded my expectations with a sub 01:40 finish.

The positives for me for this race:

• very well organised
• great support all the way round
• convenient location / start / finish
• great countryside scenery on the route
• good goodies at the end

Will I do it next year? Maybe!

So the story begins on 19^th August 2025. After much “Shall I, shan’t I?” I’ve taken the plunge and signed up for my first marathon, the Malaga Marathon on December 14th.  4 half-marathons under the belt, early sixties, not long retired, I feel like it’s now or never.  And if the worst comes to the worst I’ll just have to spend a week in December on the Costa del Sol. Hey ho.

Of course the story doesn’t really start then. Perhaps it was when I used to take our white westie Freddy, down to Cannon Hill Park on a Saturday morning and gaze with amazement and admiration at these super-athletes who could get out of bed on a Saturday morning and run a whole 5 kilometres around a park. I’ve never been a runner. That was way beyond my possibilities.

No, the story really begins in spring 2022 when I saw a flier for a couch to 5k session at Bournville Harriers. I signed up and under the wonderful coaching of Nicki Mann I completed the course, moved on to a transition course, joined the club and started doing Monday night runs. I did my first 5 mile race at Coombe Abbey in November 2023, starting piling up 10k medals and t-shirts before my first half-marathon, Birmingham 2024. And once you’ve done a half marathon your thoughts only go one way.

So how about a training plan? Well there are plenty online but I had to modify them, I couldn’t do all of the training on my own, I needed the structure and camaraderie of Monday runs and Thursday reps so they were first in. Which means the best day for a long run is Saturday (parkruns will be on hold) and a solo reps session on Wednesday.

I’m now 6 weeks out. I can’t say I’m confident but training is going as well as can be expected. The Rugby half marathon and NICE 10k went smoothly enough and I’ve increased my longest runs from 21k to 24k to 28 and finally 32. I’ve been working on a jeffing plan and trying different gels and biscuits so I’m clear in my head what I’ll do during the run. Whether it’s the right thing remains to be seen.

Tuesday 9^th December, M Day minus 5. Flying out tomorrow, have been taking it more easily recently. I didn’t know maranoia was a thing until someone told me it existed. Now I’m confident of my diagnosis. Every twinge feels like a potentially serious injury, every leaf is hiding a huge pothole and a square foot of frost in Cannon Hill Park takes on the appearance of the Cresta Run on a cold day. And I don’t want to start running on the Cresta Run. That’s a slippery slope.

Saturday 13^th December, M Day minus 1. We have a place not too far from Malaga but we’ve booked a hotel for tonight so that before the race I don’t have to worry about details like finding a parking space. We’ve also booked for tomorrow after the race so I don’t have to worry about details like moving my limbs. Number safely collected from HQ and plenty of atmosphere round Malaga and the hotel seems to be full of runners.

Sunday 14^th December. M Day. I did it! I finished. Very tough. Watching enviously as the half-marathon competitors funnelled off when I was only halfway through was a difficult moment and there was a long, straight run into a breeze between kilometres 35 and 40 but once I got through that and back into the city centre I knew I was going to make it. The final couple of kilometres through the cheering crowds made all the previous pain worthwhile and I got across the finishing line with my arms in the air and a smile on the face.

I was hoping to get round in under 5 hours so was delighted to finish in 4.51.56. It wasn’t quite enough to get a place on the podium which was a little disappointing. I mean, if I can run for nearly five hours surely they could build a podium for 6,989 people, but no, apparently that was too much trouble.

And none of this would have happened if I hadn’t become a Harrier. Without coach Nicki, without the company of my regular Monday running group, without the other coaches and everyone who made me welcome and supported me when I took up running, well thank you to all of you.

Happy running in 2026 everybody.

Someone recently introduced me to the idea of type 2 fun. Type 2 fun is when something is hard at the time but actually kind of cool when you look back at it. Type 1 fun is brilliant at the time and still brilliant afterwards. Type 3 fun is just bloody horrible and that’s all there is to it.

Whatever kind of fun you think it is, there’s no denying that Escape From Meriden is a unique experience. About 300 runners gather in Meriden, the geographical centre of England, on a Friday night in November. On the stroke of midnight, you all have 24 hours to get as far away as possible; whoever gets furthest, wins. Rob and I have a track record for finding unconventional races. As soon as we heard about EFM, there was no question that we were going to do it.

Half the fun is in the preparations. Distances are measured as the crow flies, so there’s an art to planning a straight route with few hills to slow you down. Obviously, there’s nothing as namby-pamby as route markings, so it’s also best to choose a route with simple navigation. Oh, and no aid stations either, so you’ll have to get a friend to meet you in the occasional lay-by with a flask of tea and a banana sandwich, or research 24-hour garages on the way.

The concept of Escape From Meriden is that it’s a prison break. (Hence the mug shot with this post.) There are prison guards to menace you at registration, along with ‘fortune tellers’ who’ll tell you exactly how far you’ll get. (Except our fortune teller wasn’t much good. All we got from her was advice that one of us should wear a white dress and a prediction that I’d meet a lesbian who’d give me a sword. I’m still waiting for that.) There are ways to take the prison-break concept further, too. For a small fee, you can purchase an orange prison jumpsuit for your escape and even chain yourself to another runner for the duration of the event. It’s not uncommon for EFM runners to be waylaid by the local constabulary for a little chat about what on earth they’re doing.

In the week before the race, all the chat on the event socials was about the weather forecast. One adjective kept coming up again and again: biblical. There were jokes about fishing waders, canoes and building an ark. Even hardened race veterans admitted to panicking. Driving to the start, the rain was so torrential I could barely see the road ahead, even with the windscreen wipers on full speed. Type 1 fun was looking unlikely.

At the start, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Things were looking up. At the off, my worries about the next 23 hours and 59 minutes melted away; Rob and I had a plan and it was all in our hands now. We followed a phalanx of orange-clad escapees down Meriden High Street and off towards the A45. We chatted, fueled and splashed through puddles. Before an hour had passed, we were pootling through the centre of Coventry, acknowledging the applause of revelers just ejected from the pubs.

Unfortunately, this was the high point. What followed was just grim. Our route plan was excellent in avoiding hills and sticking to a more-or-less straight line. But because of that, it was frankly dull. Combine that with darkness, cold, relentless rain and articulated lorries bombing past us at 70mph and you’re left with a prospect that makes staying on the sofa with a bottle of wine feel really quite appealing.

Things got worse. Five weeks post-marathon, Rob thought he was fully recovered. All the evidence suggested he was right. But his legs chose tonight to betray him. By the 15 mile mark, his hip flexors had seized up and running was becoming an ordeal. This meant more walking. But walking was obviously slower, which meant we got cold. The sight of a McDonalds sign on the horizon lifted our spirits for a few minutes, until closer inspection told us it was closed.

We slogged on. We donned gloves, warm hats, extra tops. We struggled into waterproof trousers, which would probably have looked hilarious to anyone watching from a passing car.

We staggered into Daventry just before 7am. It was still dark. It was still raining. We were hungry. Rob’s legs had abandoned him altogether. Both of us were nearing sense of humour failure. Salvation came in the shape of another branch of McDonalds which, mercifully, was indeed open. Gorging on sausage and egg McMuffins, shivering, grumbling, it soon became clear that our escape had come to an end. If we’d really wanted to, we could probably have death-marched another 10k to claim silver medals. But honestly, in God’s name, why? So that was how it ended: soaked to the skin in Daventry McDonalds. From my perspective, definitely type 2 fun. If you ask Rob, he’ll tell you it was type 3.

A jolly Saturday afternoon romp through a working farm that would not be out of place as a Wuthering Heights backdrop, aptly shrouded in mist. (Heathcliff did not make an appearance.)

From the terrain I would hazard that dung filled mammals were raised above ground and burrowing critters below. We all cantered onwards and upwards over rolling hills that rolled upwards far more than downwards and then daintily tipped our toes in the water features the first on which had an uncanny resemblance to the Grand Canyon.

We loved this adventure so much the first time round that we stayed on for another round finally being guided off the course by marshals from the Wim Hof mould. Once dried and recovered we all embraced Wim Hof and valiantly cheered on the men’s team until we could take no more and slunk off to our warm showers and baths.

Lesson from today, cross country is an in and out event. Get there just before the start and get out as soon as politely possible. I don’t care about waiting for medals that I will never win and whilst cheering on one’s fellow team mates is very commendable there is a time and a place for everything and a soaking wet, cold muddy field on a Saturday afternoon is not it! Well done everyone and see you all there next year

It was the 20th anniversary of the N.I.C.E. 10 k run on the 2nd of November 2025. Huge respect to Martin Foster and the team behind this fantastic event! Weather conditions were great and there was an excellent turn out for the race. Lots of Bournville Harriers, BRATs and various other teams out in force.

I arrived in plenty of time and headed into the public car park as I thought the N.I.C.E. parking may have been filled. Grumpy old man moments: no facility to pay for parking without downloading a stupid app and doing financial stuff on my phone – no! Once parked up out on a nearby road I headed to the centre and picked up my race number.

I warmed up a little by jogging through the park. Junior parkrun was finishing and it was good to see the kids enjoying themselves and cheered on by the volunteer marshals.
My aim going into this race was to average 4:30 minutes per kilometre. This would have given me a time of around 45 minutes – just under the current club record time for the V65 male category. My training had indicated that this was quite possible. However, that was not to be!

It’s a downhill start to the race and even though we were advised to take it easy at the beginning it was still quite hard to hold back! After several hundred metres I settled into a pace that felt comfortable and with the foot off the gas to a certain extent. Lots of runners overtaking me at this stage. I settled into a good rhythm and was feeling great but disaster was just around the corner – well just on a corner actually. A leafy corner which in part rivalled that ice rink in the centre of Brum for slipperiness. Down I went in a crashing heap totally surprised and a bit shocked. Several people came to help me including a kind marshal and I waved them on in my eagerness to get up and continue the race. Unfortunately, I was carrying my car keys and these had flown from my hand when I fell. What seemed like an eternity was then spent searching for my keys with help from the marshal. She obviously had the more important job of directing all the runners on the course but thankfully managed to also find my keys. In reality it was probably just under a minute before I started running again.

My careful pacing was abandoned as I tried to claw back the lost time. Overtaking other runners I began to sound like a huffing puffing steam train as I pushed maybe a little too hard to get back on track (note to self: stop it with the train analogies!). The last half of the race was almost enjoyable as I made progress and continued to move through the field. Towards the end I accepted that this time I was not going to break any records but I still managed a sprint at the end and pipped a BRAT at the finish line. My unofficial time was 46:06 and all in all I am pleased with that.

I headed back to the centre to get cleaned up. There weren’t any showers available (I think) so I just asked a first aider to clean my bloodied arm before heading off home for a bath. I had a sore hip and side for a while but I am now fully recovered and looking forward to more running! Roll on the Telford 10k in December!

There were 4 runners in the Men’s Team for this 7 mile cross country event. Conditions did not look too good early in the day with driving rain and an icy feel in the air. I admit I thought it might be better to stay in bed! I roused myself however.

As the blurb for the race mentioned limited parking and knowing that the Women’s race was before the Men’s, I thought I’d head for the overflow / alternative parking site. Once there Google Maps told me it was a 6 minute drive to the race venue – but 1 hour 30 minutes to walk!! I now realise my mistake. The overflow options are meant for convoys of cars with 1 car then going on to the venue proper. Change of plan and I got back in my car and drove to the venue. Managed to park ok, got changed and penguined up the road in my spikes. Luckily Paul Samuels recognised me and even better I got to sit in his car to warm up a bit whilst the other runners, Peter Williams and Tom Robinson (the younger) were getting ready.

Off to the start just in time to avoid any warm-up nonsense and we were off!
I started off conservatively and started to warm up a little. Managed to pass a few runners and even started to enjoy the race. I was thinking “this feels alright, I’m doing ok!”, Then I hit a long incline. Several minutes later and it was heavy breathing and top end heart rate. “Bother this” I said as I was reduced to a walk. A fellow walker made me feel a little better by muttering “Strategic walking!” in response to my expletives. Once in decline again I picked up the running. It was a 3 loop course and I think it was on the second loop on a downhill section that I had my first tumble. Feet left behind up the hill it was onto my side into the mud. No injury or hurt so straight back to it.

Started to enjoy it again apart from struggling to see in my misted up rain soaked glasses. Luckily the marshals sensed I was floundering for direction and kept me going the right way with timely interventions. There were a few ‘troughs’ to navigate and at the top of one of those on the 3rd loop I face-planted in the muddy incline. Glasses a little bent but managed to soldier on in best muddy attire. Finished the race strongly (I thought) and headed straight to the car to warm up – sorry to miss your finish Paul.
The ladies team were on the course and supporting the men as they passed – very welcome! Home, coffee, bath, coffee, food and already looking in the diary for the next race!

Join us for a party to remember on Saturday December 7th from 7pm.

Book tickets here

For those interested and available to support with marshaling, detailed individual instructions are provided beforehand (location of marshaling point, instructions to runners). Our main briefing is usually at 0900 and the race starts at 1000.

It would be really helpful if you could let myself or Rebecca know if you are available and keen so we can identify any gaps sooner than later.

Thanks in advance,
Xenofon
Chief Marshal for Leafy 10K 2024