Back on the bandwagon
Following a few short local fell racing forays and a couple of weeks' back pounding the pavements, what better way to make a comeback to marathon running than the full Yorkshireman Off-Road Marathon?
Once again I teamed up with my old mucker Dale Grimshaw for our third pairs attempt (my ninth overall) at this testing battle of endurance across the wild moors and hilly pastures of West Yorkshire.
We went rather well for the first ten miles or so until Dale did a commando roll and tweaked his back. Considering this was his first long race following major back surgery a few months prior, he was understandably concerned he'd done some damage.
As a result we let up the pace for a while but it was almost inevitable that, as we approached Denholme around 16 miles in, our general lack of race and distance fitness started to take its toll.
We slowed to a jog and even walked at times. Legs feeling like lead, neither of us could muster any more speed, energy or enthusiasm. We trudged up the dreaded cobbles on the final half mile and somehow managed to squeeze in a sort of sprint finish right at the end.
At a little over five hours this was the slowest marathon either of us had ever done but we were just happy to finish in one piece and back on the marathoning bandwagon. Onwards and upwards!
Once again I teamed up with my old mucker Dale Grimshaw for our third pairs attempt (my ninth overall) at this testing battle of endurance across the wild moors and hilly pastures of West Yorkshire.
We went rather well for the first ten miles or so until Dale did a commando roll and tweaked his back. Considering this was his first long race following major back surgery a few months prior, he was understandably concerned he'd done some damage.
As a result we let up the pace for a while but it was almost inevitable that, as we approached Denholme around 16 miles in, our general lack of race and distance fitness started to take its toll.
We slowed to a jog and even walked at times. Legs feeling like lead, neither of us could muster any more speed, energy or enthusiasm. We trudged up the dreaded cobbles on the final half mile and somehow managed to squeeze in a sort of sprint finish right at the end.
At a little over five hours this was the slowest marathon either of us had ever done but we were just happy to finish in one piece and back on the marathoning bandwagon. Onwards and upwards!
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