Bluebells and Compression Socks

Pete bought it, albeit for the current Mrs Stock, he got the invite and asked me along as his guest. Excellent. The Porsche Range Experience was just that, an experience. And a lesson in how to look after people you regard as customers, no matter what your business or role in life. It wasn't flash or indulgent, just people being civil, polite and wearing a genuine smile. Many of the staff are simply volunteers for the day, but enthusiastic and courteous. A revelation. We exposed our driving skills for what they are, but still felt like kids in a sweet shop. 

Part of the day was classroom and discussion about responsible driving and road safety. We were asked our worst habits, the room went quiet as I privately concluded impatience was mine. You're in a 40 limit and the car in front is doing 39. It's not that I want to tear-arse down the road at stupid speed, but I just want to be in front and out of their way so I'm not perpetually on the brakes and looking for overtaking opportunities. This is what I was thinking again today during the first couple of miles at the Bluebell Trail. 

I wanted to take the start easy. With 1400 feet of climb to come, I'd opted for a measured start, yet this guy in front was just running ever so slightly too slow for me. Almost continually clipping heels down the narrow trail with no passing possible, I fought and fought just to get by so he could in turn clip mine all the way to the bottom of Trooper Lane. What a ridiculous waste of emotional and physical energy. The race was OK, in summary. I got the same time as last year, back then I consider I was fitter, but that first hill crippled me in body and spirit. This year, I held back and am proud to report that I ran all the way to the top of Trooper Lane.

There's maybe some flexible interpretation of what constitutes actual running, and indeed there were a few moments where both feet didn't leave the ground, but I certainly didn't walk. Dr Matt confirmed this, he saw me with increasing clarity, still running as he was walking behind me, and gaining. Tougher runners than me have said that once you stop running on a hill, it signals your spirit has been crushed and you demonstrate as much to your competitors. At the top of the hill, elated, I continued and ran off, Dr Matt struggled to re-start and he never saw me again. Predictably, my spirit and I parted company at the next hill, amicably and with little protest!

I ran more of the route than I remember last year, all the time trying to measure out what energy I had, with knowledge of what was to come. But by mile nine of this ten and a bit route, my fitness joker had been played and my batteries were completely spent. I just managed to hang on for dear life all the way to river the crossing prior to the finish line, the sound of cheering spectators rejoicing at the sight of fallen warriors taking a dunk. It's a top race, this. Well marshaled but such stunning scenery...assuming you look up.

Great cakes and bacon butties after, though I was feeling a tad delicate, possibly as a result of experimenting with some new GU gels. Tasty and effective at the time, though. My calves took a battering today on those uphill sections. This year, after a strong run, I've taken to wearing my old hospital compression socks which I've found has helped, along with good stretching, to minimise the trouble I used to get in that area and my Achilles. I know I look a complete tool/knob/dick/cock, but hey.

At the very least they feel like someone is giving my legs a gentle but continual stroking! Comforting. The fact the toe has no closed end is a little weird, but they do the job and now are looking a little saggy. So I bought some actual compression socks today. I have no intention of running in them, only for recovery. These are black and therefore less likely to be spotted and commented on during an indiscreet leg crossing moment. They have L and R embroidered on them, lacking only a name tag and a piece of elastic joining them together to give you that school boy feeling of lack of trust and despairing incompetence. I'm reasonably happy with the efforts of the day. With full fitness yet to be realised, I'd hope to improve on today's time, so in retrospect it was a fair result...and a grand day out.