In the week before Christmas I made a last minute decision to enter one more race before the end of the year. The event was being held in the village older son now lives in and the route passed his house, twice. The start point was outside his local pub, just up the road. When he agreed to run it too, and daughter then decided she would join us, the decision was made.
Most races I run are organised by a local running club. This was not the case here and the entrance fee charged by the company, Stampede Sports, was the most I’ve ever paid at just under £30 per person – not unreasonable, simply more than I’m used to. For this each entrant takes away a finisher’s medal and present from Santa’s sack at the end. I’m always a bit sad when there is no t-shirt.
We entered on the Monday, for a race to be held the following Sunday. The weather was forecast to be fine and I was excited to run with two of my children. As the week progressed the forecast deteriorated, with rain showers and gale force winds appearing on forecasts. Such is the risk of running in winter in the UK.
There was no carpark available in the village and entrants were asked to park with due consideration for local residents. Husband dropped me off an hour before the race was due to start so I did not need to find a roadside space. Daughter was able to park outside son’s house, getting there earlier than me to ensure this was still possible.
I walked from my drop off to the Run HQ in the village hall and picked up our three bibs. These had the timing chips attached and were to be pinned on each runner’s front so as to be visible by marshals around the course. Toilets were available inside the hall although I did not need to use them. Instead, I walked to son’s house where we all waited in comfort until close to the start time. En route I passed the pub where organisers were setting up the timing strips and other race paraphernalia.
As the start time approached, and having filled out emergency details and pinned our bibs we made our way to the start point. The bear who joins me at all running events was left in the warmth of the house with its resident bear for company.
What had been a cold, somewhat blowy but generally clear morning had by now turned wet and decidedly windy. As runners started to congregate outside the pub we were all shivering, turning decidedly damp and chilled. The run director acknowledged the conditions in his welcome and briefing, keeping this as short as possible before getting us to line up in the road ready for the off. Marshals stopped traffic briefly to allow for this – the only road closure. We had been warned to stay left throughout so that vehicles could pass.
The first mile was mostly flat with just a slight descent. The route then became undulating although with no fierce hills. By the time we reached the village of Grittleton the rain had eased and the sun appeared. A marshal directed us to turn left as we exited the village and continue on, across a motorway bridge, towards the outskirts of Yatton Keynell. We ran mostly on the road. Where footpaths were available these had a covering of rotting leaves that proved slippery. The first of the three water stations was located on the ascent leading to the motorway bridge.
On the outskirts of Yatton Keynell another left turn took us onto a quiet lane that was quite muddy in places. Thankfully there was little traffic so it was possible to dodge the worst of this. The second water station was located at the top of a hill at the northern edge of the village of Kington Langley. Beyond this, a marshal directed us to turn left at a junction from where we headed into a strong wind towards the second motorway crossing.
Son had disappeared into the distance from the start as he runs considerably faster than daughter or I. We chose to run together until this headwind slowed daughter down noticeably. Aware that I was less affected – 10 miles isn’t an unusual distance for me to cover – and with less than a parkrun until the end, she told me to go ahead. With plenty left in my legs I upped the pace. Marshals turned us right towards Stanton and then quickly left back towards Hullavington. A right turn at the final junction brought us onto the road we had started on. There was now around a mile until the finish.
I tend to favour negative splits when running, finding extra reserves of energy when I know I can soon stop. I could see a group of three runners ahead of me and decided to see if I could pass them. I managed, although this took every ounce of my reserves – a good way to feel at a race finish.
Although I didn’t have a particular time to aim for, being unsure how long it would take daughter to run a longer distance than she is used to, it was clear when I went ahead that we could both come in under the 2 hour mark – we managed this with time to spare. Having made good use of the final water station and collected our medals and Secret Santa parcels, we returned to son’s house to find out how he had got on with running a distance he had not attempted before. Finding him already showered and changed while he waited for us, he reported a too speedy start at a pace he couldn’t hold beyond around 12km – his time was still respectable for a race none of us had trained for.
The Hullavington 10 was well organised and, after the initial foul weather abated, a lot of fun to run, especially with company. It is a relatively small event – just 220 places available. As is usual, not everyone who entered turned up on the day, but those who did may congratulate themselves on completing a fine race. We would certainly consider doing it again, although maybe next time with a little more preparation.
