Ill Concieved Plans Poorly executed

Dry Hill 10

I've been meaning to do the Dry Hill 10 for a while now mainly as the route passes close to my house. Usually I end up walking my dogs across the fields as the runners come thundering down the course. This year the dogs will have to wait for their walkies. Now the name gives a few hints as to the terrain. Hill. Well that's a bit of a misnomer. There was defiantly more than one hill involved in the route. It was the dry bit that worried me. In the pre-drought years parts of the route had been liberally covered in horse churned mud but this year it was dry and firm. This left me with no excuse for a slow time, not that I need one.

The route started at the racecourse with the usual melee of runners stretching, warming up and complaining about hangovers. Before long we were off and heading up through the race course. It was a little odd to be in a race that took in paths and tracks that I use for my (and I use the word with a pinch of salt) training. I'm not sure if it was an advantage knowing what was coming or not. I suspect not. Before long we were heading up the first of the many hills. The pack had thinned out by now and it was more or less like a training run except for the slapping of the flat footed runner behind me. Once that hill was out of the way we were back on tarmac and heading towards Dry Hill. I really like running this bit of road for the views over to the North Downs. Soon we where back on the dirt track and heading downhill. This was not fair as it was setting us up for another climb. It there is one thing worse that running uphill it's running downhill. I think I should really look for races in Holland or Norfolk. Between miles four and five we hit a field. It didn't look to steep but looks can be deceptive. I knew I was in trouble when a wheezing octogenarian came shambling past me at a pace I couldn't match. I decided to walk for a bit and found that I was actually going faster! The route levelled and then tilted down which meant that the normal mode of operation could be employed, I never did catch the old man but then I knew that the last short steep hill was just around the corner. Sure enough it gave me a good slapping before I gained the summit. From here it was all down hill, it had to be this was the highest place around.

Lingfield running club knows a bit about motivation. They had laid on three tables of cakes and other goodies at the finish. The thought of all those cakes being devoured by ravenous runners was all it took for me to pick up the pace and head for home. I wanted to dive headlong into the cakes and eat until my eyes bulged and a reasonable time after starting I did just that.