Brill Hilly 2013

Having taken it easy at the Oxford parkrun on Saturday and refrained from beer drinking the evening before I was reasonably confident I could get round this years Brill Hilly in about 55 minutes despite my new found slowness and constant diet of painkillers. What with a strong and gusty wind and a big hill 12 miles seems like a long ride at the moment so I opted to dust off the geared road bike and carry my running shoes to change into at the start. This proved to be a big mistake because after a mile or so my frozen shoulder was having a good old grumble about the extra weight and different position forced on it by riding with drop bars for the first time this year. On top of the ache I was fighting to keep the bike stable in the gusty wind and down-hills I’d have loved a year ago became frightening as I tried to relax on the bike while hanging on the brakes. I suspect I was inadvertently favouring the duff shoulder and putting too much weight on the left arm causing the bike to feel really unstable and skippy.

So it was feeling somewhat jittery and with a numbly sore arm, sort of like shin splints in the wrong limb, despite the ibuprofen I’d taken earlier, that I arrived at the start venue. An energy gel, a drink, taking a moment to appreciate the sunshine and a chat with various familiar faces and I was feeling a little more invigorated by the time we needed to make our way to the start by Brill windmill. Considering strategy I had a dilemma – it was unlikely I was going to finish far from the back in my present decrepit state, but I was quite capable of storming down the hill that makes up the first couple of kilometres with the first half of the field. Where to start? I opted for starting far enough forward not to get blocked by slower descenders and to accept that lots of runners would pass me later as they reclaimed their rightful places.

Caught unaware we were off! Ailments forgotten I flew down the hill to a sub 7:30 minute first mile and, the descent much gentler, an 8:10 2nd mile. As the excitement and the descent eased I weakened though and let myself slow to a sustainable pace. Around the halfway mark, with about 90 seconds ‘in the bank’, we turned into a powerful headwind and I knew 55 minutes wasn’t going to happen. We continued along pretty lanes on the well marshalled course with hardly any traffic. The climb back up started earlier than I expected and I found myself struggling unreasonably. Efforts to push harder made me feel sick and wobbly, my upper arm ached like someone had punched it, my Achilles moaned like I’d run 14 miles not 4.

I reverted to the walk-run strategy before we’d even got to the steep bit, it wasn’t that hard psychologically as I’d drifted far enough back down the field to be amongst other walkers. I made a point of choosing in advance where I was going to start, or stop, running so as to keep control and on a walk bit chatted to another walker about the advantages of this strategy. I used the example of saying I was now going to run as far as those 2 spectators 200 metres up ahead then decide on how far I’d let myself walk before I actually slowed to walk. Unfortunately said spectators took this moment to start marching off towards the top of the hill so I had to revise the plan a bit.

Knowledge of the course from last year proved useful when I remembered how the 9k marker seemed to be a long time coming but shortly after it the road levelled off and even I could get running again. We continued through the middle of Brill, me feeling not so bad now considering, and followed the road curving left towards our turn for the finish field. Now still into the strong wind I realised we were about to turn left into a road then left again meaning a tailwind finish. A glance at my watch and a sub-hour finish looked just possible. I wound up the pace – which is about the equivalent of a tortoise making a break for freedom at the moment – passed someone for the first time in a while – and turned into the finish field. Almost there and there was a 1 hour announcement but at least I’d tried for it. Final score was 1 hour and 23 seconds 149th of 178 finishers.

Brill Hilly 2013

I grabbed a banana and a drink, nice to feel hot at the end of a race after that winter, and went to see how some of the others had done. Paul Brackett’s brother Peter had won 2nd MV50, Paul told how he doesn’t bother with watches and times anymore. Adrian said he thought he was pushing too fast as he was running at my pace and hadn’t expected to beat me round –  I’d seen him in the distance halfway up the hill when I was at the bottom so he doesn’t want to be holding back for me in the future.

I collected my bag, changed into my cycling shoes, and struggled back home against that wind. The descent from Brill had been a lot more fun running than it was getting buffeted around on my bike. Not an enjoyable ride, I was totally knackered. A chuckle on the way up the hill to Stanton St John where a photographer knelt by the road taking several shots of my slow progress only to be informed I was nothing to do with the event he was attached to – turned out to be the Westminster to Islip Big Bike Ride, hope they had fun!