On the RunAwards Edition January 2013

Magazine Editor:

Adam Hills

Contributors:

Ι Elise Allen Ι Jutta Crane Ι Steve Crane Ι Alastair Fadden Ι Gill Fullen Ι Angie Kay Ι Richard Piron Ι Graham Short Ι Bob Wells Ι

Editor's Column

Well, here we are again… after the memorable year of

2012. We have indeed witnessed the greatest London

Summer Olympics and Paralympics Games after all the

years of preparation and thought planning. It was

arguably not obvious who would light up the flame

after all the speculation that mounted. Now the flame

has safely gone out after the Games we can now look

forward to its legacy and hope it will bring positive

benefits to our country. It felt great to see the many

torch bearers that passed through our very streets and

the hundreds of spectators who turned out to watch

on a cool rainy Sunday morning in July. It felt pleasing

for our country to finish third with 65 medals, only

behind the populated China and the massive United

States of America. The edited version of Chariots of

Fire theme during each medal ceremony sounded

enjoyable to listen to. It was nice to hear of the many

Bedford Harriers who were very successful in gaining

event tickets to watch the Games live, the dedicated

Games Maker volunteers who gave up their time and

everyone who were inspired by the GB Team

achievements. There were numerous achievements

displayed within the Bedford Harriers during the year

2012 as can be seen on the Club’s website and within

the Awards Edition of the On The Run – so take a good

read. I shall be stepping down from the Committee this

year so if anyone else wishes to take over the

magazine editor role then that should be fine. Good

luck to all with your sporting goals and aspirations in

the year 2013 and hope anyone who may be

superstitious about the number 13 will continue to see

the positive benefits from belonging to and training

with the Bedford Harriers.

Adam Hills

EditorAbove photo by Billy Fadden -

from outside the Copperbox at the Olympic Park

CONTENTS

Editor's Column 2

Chair’s chatter 3

Success and failure 4-5

The Making of a Games Maker 6-7

My Journey To L..... 8

Looking back on 2012 9

Still Some Nice People in the World 10

From 2005 as a Complete Beginner 11

Testing Einstein’s Theory 12

Life On The Front Row Of The Griddle 13

Cover Photo By Ian Sturdgess -

Olympic London Marthon Photographers

Back Cover Photo By Alastair Fadden

2

Chair’s ChatterA belated Happy New Year to all members, their families and friends of the Harriers.

2012 was another great year for Bedford Harriers in many, many respects.

There were numerous athletic achievements including 17 new Club Best Times.

Harriers members continue to compete on a regular basis and many members

will have achieved considerable personal success over the last 12 months as will

be demonstrated in the awards ceremony.

The Club maintains a buoyant membership level and a robust financial position.

The membership continues to enjoy the benefit of a full range of coaching

ability groups, the 3 Counties Cross Country league, the Friday evening track

and circuit sessions and the weekend swimming programme.

The Harriers promoted races; the Oakley 20, the Doug Anderson 5K, the

Bedford Harriers 10K and the Harriers Half Marathon, all continue to be well

attended and generate encouraging comments from the participants. The

fledgling Spring into Summer duathlon was staged for the first time in 2012

and whilst the number of participants was comparatively low they were

nevertheless effervescent in their compliments about the event.

It’s certain that every individual will recollect several high points of 2012.

One of those must surely be seeing our very own Iva Barr promenading with the Olympic Torch through Bedford on 8th July 2012.

Much has been written and spoken about the sporting events over the past 12 months; all put much more eloquently

than that to which my humble prose could aspire.

What did become apparent as one followed the media reports throughout the summer was the frequency with which the

word volunteer or more accurately the words, Games Makers were used.

The media addressed the topic as though volunteering was a new concept initiated by LOCOG (London Organising Committee

of the Olympic and Paralympic Games) however, we all know differently.

Bedford Harriers members (and their families and friends too) have been volunteering for years; it’s true to say that without

volunteers there would be no Club. Bedford Harriers is extremely fortunate to have a membership that has the volunteering

ethic, not just now and again but repeatedly, week on week, month on month, year on year. More often than not the

contribution that our volunteers make appears to pass unnoticed and unrecognised. Many of our members give up considerable

amounts of their time to forward the interests of the Club and its members, whilst still finding the time to train and compete.

To all Harriers volunteers, (actually it’s most of the membership), your contribution is noticed and is recognised, although you

may not realise it, every single volunteer makes this running club one of the most successful in the country.

Best wishes for 2013

Steve Crane

PS Just to prove all is not sweetness and harmony pictured

above is Richard Pooley and yours truly wrestling over rubbish

bins, looks like he’s already had my braces away!

Welcome to the January 2013 Awards Edition

of the Bedford Harriers ‘On-The-Run’

PPS Harmony restored, all standing to attention.

3

2012 will be remembered for so many fantastic sporting moments, withthe Olympics showing the fantastic heights of success, but also thedevastating emotions of not achieving goals. We all felt inspired by ourheroes’ achievements, especially Jess, Greg and Mo on that magicalnight, but the real test of character is surely for those who failed tomedal to pick themselves up and carry on. This has been a reflection of my year, albeit on a far less significant scale.

The year started well for me : I decided early in the year that duathlonwas a logical step for me, with swimming as my weakest discipline andrunning my strongest, but when I entered two qualifiers I was stillrather taken aback to win my age category in both. I decided they weremore difficult than triathlon in that the first 10k run is harder on thelegs than any swim and so putting power into the 40k bike is tough. Totop that the final 5k run on seriously tired legs is a killer, but with thoseresults in the bag my ticket to the World Championships in Nancy,France was booked.

However, my main target for the year was Ironman UK in Bolton, notan altogether glamorous venue, and I made the mistake of seriouslymisjudging the difficulty of the course. The bike was unrelentingly hilly,made worse by increasingly strong winds during the day, but it was onthe run that the hill I’d missed on my course recce really hit hard and bythe third lap most were walking it. Having trained in extremes of rainand wind all Spring, I was looking forward to a wet, cold and windyrace, so when the day dawned bright and clear and became one of thehottest days of the year so far, I really suffered from heat anddehydration. It was a small foretaste of what was to come later in theyear. Not happy with my performance, but still managing to win my agecategory, I had won the golden ticket, the Kona qualification. Ticket to Hawaii, booked.

It was great to travel out to France with Richard Piron, who had alsoqualified for the World Championship Duathon. What with alsomeeting Harriers Julie Tapley and Pete Buckingham, and BRCC’s PhilHolland and Jason Moore out there, it was always going to be a well-supported race. The parade of Nations set the tone for the GB teamspirit and following the Union Jack into the beautiful and imposingmain square of Nancy made me proud to be a part of the team. Thepasta party was well organised and the food actually really tasty, as wemaybe should have expected in France. The run course was loops offroad through a local park, followed by a technical urban bike coursewith little advantage to be gained from a tt bike, as the hilly, twistingand stop-start nature of the course kept riding skill to the fore rather than pure power.

On race day the ladies waves were set off first and I was worried aboutthe fairly narrow course considering that our wave was 90 ladies. I hadbriefly checked out the competition and decided that two Germans andan American were going to take the medals, so if I could keep them insight I might not be too far behind. I positioned myself just behindthese ladies at the start and ran off on their heels hoping for the best.Naturally impatient, I quickly found their pace too slow for my liking,so switched my attention to two strong GB ladies, with whom I happilyran round the first lap. I was somewhat amazed to find them bothgradually dropping off the pace and as I overtook them both, it waspretty unbelievable to find myself running into transition in secondplace. I fully expected to be fairly swiftly caught and overtaken on thebike, so I was unsurprised when on the third lap, despite some prettyhard pushing on my part, I was overtaken by another American. All Icould do was keep pedaling as fast as possible, pray for no puncturesand get to transition not too far behind. When racing that hard Isuddenly discovered how difficult it is to count to five, so I turned intotransition unsure of whether I should be jumping off the bike or settingoff on another lap. I was not the only one, however and luckily I hadcounted correctly, unlike several other competitors.

Into transition in third place and I decided that if I could hold thenbronze was a good result. I gave the run all I had left, which still feltrelatively comfortable and I was making ground on the ladies in front ofme, but 5k is a short distance and I ran in still in third place, but morethan happy with that position. Amidst hugs, photos and congratulations

over the finish line I happened toglance down at the two Americans’legs and was astounded to see thatthey were both W35s, whichmeant I had won my section. Gold.World champion. Astounded andthrilled; definite high; success. Ihave to mention Gary Moore here,as he was the best supporter ever,with the right information andencouragement all the way roundthe course, thank you so much. Itwas great staying to watch themen race, cheering Richard on andsupporting Jason, Phil, Pete andNED (ie.anyone from Holland)made a superb weekend of racing.

Hawaii of course was a completely different proposition. The journeytook 26 hours door to door and mum and I were beyond shatteredwhen we arrived. The week that followed I spent being awestruck bythe amount of incredibly fit athletes running, swimming and cyclingaround the town and depressed by the amount of tt bikes these tannedsuperbodies were riding. The course itself didn’t look too imposing, itwas rolling, but very straightforward and the complete opposite ofFrance. It was definitely hot, but tended to cloud over towardslunchtime, making great racing conditions. The wind didn’t seem toobad either, I was feeling a little more confident!

My trial swim on the course terrified me … it seemed to go on forever, Iwas very seasick and emerged after 1hr40 with sunburn all over myback and sores from my swimsuit rubbing. Heartily discouraged, Ibought a speedsuit , ate heaps of ginger and swam every day to try toacclimatise to the salt water. I decided to try tt bikes the day before therace – bad move! Loved the tt bikes and the way they rode and wasmajorly depressed to go back to my road bike, which I usually love.Running seemed my only ace card, but with increasingly painful plantarfasciitis (tendonitis in both my feet) having plagued me for somemonths I was unsure even of this. On the whole I managed to psychemyself out of the race even before I arrived at the start line. I realisethis now, but at the time still felt reasonably positive.

Racking was brilliantly organised and it did feel great to be actuallytaking part in such a superb event. The pre-race banquet had recappedon the history of Ironman and the Hawaii world championships, so wewere aware that we were part of a famous tradition which includedmany of the best athletes in the world. On race day I found myself inthe queue to enter the water with my German friend, who I’d raced inLas Vegas. We chatted about our age group and prospects, but we hadno clue at that stage that she would come first in our category and takethe world title. I would be both overjoyed for her and intenselydisappointed with myself.

The swim went pretty well for me, considering my expectations, so Ijumped on the bike quite positive and continued to be happy as myaverage bike speed showed well over 20mph for the first few sectionsof the bike. The cross-winds hit at about 40miles in and I had to laughout loud as they simply threw me hard across the road, forcing me to

Success and failure, 2012 a year to remember By Gill Fullen

4

grip the handlebars tight to keep off the hard black lava bordering thecourse and briefly be thankful for my road bike. Needless to say, not asingle disk wheel was to be seen. The course climbed gradually fromthere into the wind and up to the turnaround point in the small town of Hawi on the Northern tip of the island. The climb was long and tiring,so to turn around at halfway and have the prospect of a long descentwith the wind behind me was pure pleasure. I still thought things weregoing ok at this point, but my stomach had shut down as per usual andwas refusing to accept any kind of fuel. At this point, some 5 hours intothe race, fuelling should have been my priority, but all I could do wastry to keep hydrated. The skies had remained clear, with little of thecloud cover we had become used to, and the heat reflected off the roadand lava was fairly intense. The feed stations I arrived at looked as if atornado had hit them, with little left on the tables and cups, bottles, gel packets and squashed banana strewn all over the road. I was luckyto pick up water by this stage and my fueling strategy was in tatters.

To compound my misery, as the hours went on the wind picked up. Icouldn’t work out how the wind was now in my face yet again on theway home, how did that happen? People on their lovely tt bikes werefree-wheeling downhill past me, as I pedaled as furiously as I was able.Transition had neverseemed so far away. All Iwanted to do was get offthe bike and I made it mymission just to keeppedaling until I arrived,one revolution at a time.Finally the town was insight and a sharpdownhill into transitionwas a blessed relief. Ihadn’t realised how hardI’d pushed on the bikethough, it had seemed soslow, (averaging justunder 18mph in theend), but when my feethit the ground I foundmy legs simply would notsupport me. I wasleaning on the bike tokeep me upright, when itwas taken from me to beracked and, justmanaging to stay upright, I hobbled round to the changing tent, where Icollapsed onto a chair and downed two full cups of coke. The superhelper managed to organise me into my trainers and relieve me of mybike kit, shoving gels into my back pocket, which I knew I wouldn’t beable to stomach. I sat for a bit longer before praying that my legs wouldhold me up and set of in that distinctive ironman shuffle on to themarathon course.

At this point I was seriously dubious as to whether I would be able tofinish at all. I reconciled myself to having to walk the run course, eventhough I was still managing to jog slowly, and could still not stop myselfchecking out every number that ran past me to see I they were in myage group. Competitiveness dies last apparently. I eventually acceptedthat jogging was the maximum I was capable of and if I wanted thatfinisher’s t-shirt that was what I’d have to put up with. Eighteen mileslater the girl next to me depressingly estimated our finish time as12.30hrs, at which point I said, lets change that and asked my body if it could go any faster. To my astonishment I found I could finally runagain! Much of this part of the run course was uphill, so run speedsdon’t tell the story of how many people I ran past, how fresh I felt andhow relieved I was to finally some kind of pace. My final mile of themarathon I sprinted in 6.10 minute/mile, to great support from thecrowds. Too little, too late, I crossed the finish line in a dispirited11.47.42, unplaced.

Failure is not something I’m used to and I have to admit to fairly seriousdepression after the race, which spoiled my experience of one of themost amazing destinations in the world. I’m coming to terms with itnow and the only way forward is either to never put myself through itagain, as I had promised myself throughout the race, or to go back anddo better. No choice really.

So if I was that upset with my performance, how do you cope withmissing out on an Olympic medal? My highs and lows this year have in the end led me to take lessons from both, to enjoy success, but notcount on it, to accept defeat and learn from it. With determination we can all achieve amazing things and self-belief is the key.

5

I have never won the lottery, and it’s pretty unlikely that I ever will

(since I understand you have to buy a ticket) but I came closest to

experiencing that lottery winning feeling, on 21st September last year,

when I received an email telling me, not only that I’d been accepted

as a Games Maker, but that I would be based at the Olympic Stadium.

It was virtually a year to the day since I’d submitted my initial

application, I’d had an interview 2 weeks earlier which had gone

pretty well, but the odds were that nearly 3 in 4 people would be

unsuccessful. But some people do win the lottery and I was in. Now

all I had to do was wait another year! Goodness I hope there’s some

good training because I didn’t feel particularly able to stage an

Olympics (even in my small way) at this point.

Training started with an orientation session on a bitterly cold day last

February at Wembley Arena along with 10000 others. This really didn’t

really give us much idea of what we’d actually be doing, but was more

designed to inspire and ignite our interest. Like we needed it! I

remember one phrase that Seb Coe used in his talk during the event.

He was confident that we would put on a good games. “Your role as

Games Makers”, he said, “would be to turn a good games into a great

games”. The cynic in me in thought “well you would say that wouldn’t

you”. I don’t believe that many of us at that time had any idea of

whether such a task was achievable. Particularly by British people. The

subsequent role-specific training events did not just concentrate on the

practical aspects of the job like using ticket scanners and checking

accreditation, but on motivating us to be something else. Something

distinctive, something inspirational. Are you kidding! Don’t you know

we’re British? We are dour aren’t we? We keep ourselves to ourselves.

Excellent at queuing though. That’s a comfort.

I set the alarm for 2am for my first shift (way too early) to catch the

4:08am train from Bedford. I felt conspicuous as the only one dressed

in purple on Bedford station. However, by the time we reached St.

Pancras there were more Games Makers than not exiting the platform.

Many were now experienced since the other venues had been running

for a week. It’s hard to convey the excitement that I felt as I entered the

park and saw the stadium and thought to myself, “that’s my office for

the day”. It felt such a privilege to be part of that team at the start of

every shift. I found myself drawing in a deep breath and metaphorically

pinching myself. As we checked in we were given a deployment card

which assigned us to a specific area and team for the day. The stadium

was split into 4 areas, one for each point of the compass, and we

received a daily briefing in our area groups before being split into our

teams and given a further team instructions. Each team had a specific

role, which might be manning the ticket booths for a gate into the

stadium or in charge of a seating area. This aspect of the role of

organising us took hours at the start of each day. There was a lot of

hanging around because just our Event Services Team inside the

stadium consisted of 800 people on a shift who needed splitting into

areas then teams, and moved into place. On the first day we finished

our final briefing just 15 minutes before gates opened. During these

15 minutes all of us were moving like blue-arsed flies around our area

making sure we knew where our nearest first aid or buggy store was,

where to get drinking water and where to let it out. In 15 minutes time

we would be expected to be experts. Of course we would be in 10 days

time, but this was shift one.

On this first shift our team was allocated the role of managing crowds

in an area of the concourse. One nice Japanese lady came up to me. In

her broken English she asks “where can I buy your uniform”. “You want

to buy this?” Come on Graham be professional now. “I’m afraid you

can’t buy it, it’s only provided for those that work here”. I don’t add

that most of us were terribly self conscious of wearing it initially.

Though this would change over the coming days. Two of our team (a

dinner lady from Leeds and a lady accountant from Surrey) are given

the job of (wo)manning the umpire chair to greet those coming into our

area. You get a script but they threw this away fairly soon. The smiles

these two ladies generated in the world’s corniest jokes were

infectious. Maybe Brits can be very welcoming after all.

Of course being at the greatest show on earth helped quite a bit.

There’s the noise for one thing. You didn’t so much hear it as feel it in

your stomach as the stadium erupted. When it did so people started

running to see what was happening. I wander in looking casual and talk

to a colleague. “What’s happening?” “It’s Jess Ennis.” “What has she

done?” “She stood up and took off her tracksuit!” “Ah”.

Next day on my second shift I met another Games Maker on the

platform at Bedford. He was working at Russell Square. He had twice as

many shifts as I did and his role was to direct the press onto the correct

bus to get to the various Olympic venues. For me these were the real

heroes amongst the volunteers, like those working the last mile

directing people to and from Stratford station. They had to deal with

millions of people, often at the end of the day, when they were tired

and not in the best frame of mind. I experienced this in a small way on

my second shift. I was in seating, but got moved at the end of the shift

to help with the buggy store. Now much in the Olympics was well

organised. One exception to this was just how much space was

provided for pushchairs and wheel chairs. The rooms were far too small

to meet the demand. We had two rooms which were stacked floor to

ceiling with buggies. And of course those that deposited them earliest

tended to be those that wanted to pick them up first. This was terribly

inconsiderate. We really needed them to turn up in reverse order since

those that left them latest were the easiest to reach. “Mine’s a black

McClaren” one lady says. Of course they were all bl**dy black

McClarens. “Can I suggest madam sprays it pink next time”. But these

were tired children and tired adults and we needed to find their

The Making of a Games Maker

Graham Short

By Graham Short

6

vehicles in a timely manner. There were 8 of us frantically pulling

buggies from these rooms by the end.

My third shift was my first evening shift. I mostly worked morning

shifts, but the finals were in the evenings, so this was exciting. The

highlight of that evening was the 100m with Mr. Bolt going for his first

gold medal. The shift was probably the hardest of the games. We got

one short break for a meal but the rest of the time was pretty much full

on. So many people tried to blag their way into the stadium that night.

We also had people rushing the entrance to try and force their way in. I

had several face offs with some very angry, some very drunk people

who felt they deserved to be inside. We turned away athletes and

coaches that didn’t have the appropriate accreditation. We turned

away Sally Gunnell! We turned away two policemen with machine

guns!! It was so hectic that we’d rather resigned to being stuck on the

bridge all evening. At 9:45 we had an emergency briefing. There were a

lot of extra people milling around the disabled seating area. They were

causing a nuisance by leaning over people in wheelchairs to take

photos. We were redeployed to form a cordon behind their seats. We

were moved in just before the race started and as soon as it finished we

were moved back onto the bridge. I was inside the stadium for a little

over 10 seconds.

So proceeded my Olympics week. Confidence, pride and joy growing by

the hour. Each morning that sharp intake of breath at the first glimpse

of my stadium office. A physically demanding day as we often didn’t get

much break during the shift, but then who wanted to spend time in the

break area. I really enjoyed the interaction with the public. When

families came in I would ask the children “Excited?” Some seemed to

hide behind their parents at being spoken to, so I’d chide “He’s hiding it

well”. It brought a smile and smiles are infectious. On the bridges I had

to make sure that every entrance gate was utilised to keep queues

down to a minimum. “Please use all the ticket entrances” I would

bellow “as all the stewards are equally ugly”. When it was my time for

scanning I would throw my arms out wide as people approached from

a distance. This invariably meant that some would throw their arms

open in response. “You don’t have to hug me madam, I just need to

scan your ticket”. Back home that afternoon passing policeman doing

the “Mobot”. Weary after my journey, I’d sit and watch the highlights

program on TV I’d recorded from the day before, invariably loaded

with the success of Team GB. By the end of this emotional roller

coaster, there were few days where I wasn’t close to tears, if not in

tears. Amazing to those of us on the team, was just how much praise

was being given to the volunteers. The plaudits from Locog, athletes,

spectators, the media, and even the likes of Boris were as surprising as

they were welcome. My God, what am I part of?

My final shift was the closing ceremony. Before hand, I was really

excited to be working it. It turned out to be, without doubt, my worst

shift. I was allocated to the bridge closest to the VIP area. As the games

had pretty much finished in the park this was to be solely used by the

Olympic Family to come into the park. As you may remember there was

just 24 hours between the last athletics in the Stadium and the closing

ceremony, when staging needed to be erected to turn the place into a

concert venue. The dress rehearsal was running late and as we stood

waiting for the all clear, a line of dignitaries were escorted up to our

entrance. A man from Zambia was at the head of the queue. “I’m afraid

we haven’t been given security clearance to let you in at present”, I

said. “Well that won’t do, there are old people here. They won’t be able

to queue here for long”. Slightly taken aback, I asked his colleague from

Zambia “Have you had a good games, sir”, “Well it’s been alright so far,

but we shall have to see after this”, adding “I don’t like to talk when I’m

tired”. This set pretty much the tone for the evening. These people are

after all professional Olympic visitors. They seemed to be here mainly

to eat, drink and criticise. I wanted to be with the happy people; the

General Public. They were a joy to be with. There was also once again

hundreds trying to blag their way past us to get into the ceremony.

Whilst turning away a 7 foot high basketball player who admitted he’d

had some drug issues, I was approached by a lady Games Maker who

was working in the park but didn’t have stadium accreditation. She

said, “I know I can’t come in but could you take my phone in and take

some photos to show my class” (she was a trainee teacher). I ran up the

4 flights of stairs past the VIP area to the only place we could get in to

see. I must have misunderstood her instructions, because I couldn’t

seem to make her phone work. Down again and I explain that I don’t

think I’m doing it right. She looks and says, “Yes all you’ve managed to

take a photo of, is your thumb”. Right that does it, I grab her by the

hand; haul her after me up 4 flights, flashing my accreditation at the

steward as I go. I put her in the stair well where she has a good view

and she takes her shots. 30 seconds later she comes blubbing to me “I

don’t want to get into trouble” and down we go again. As I show her

back out the exit gate, I at last start to feel good about myself. This is

what I should be doing, making people happy. As Queen comes on we

start the actions to “We will rock you” in a row with the girls selling the

programs. The spectators coming to use the smoking area by us fall

about laughing. Yes, that’s what we do. We make people happy.

In doing so we made ourselves happy, and proud of our country and

our achievements. Yes even British people. Great British People.

P.S. If you haven’t already seen it put “Happiest Olympic Volunteer

2012” into YouTube and enjoy a good laugh.

7

(these are the first few lines of my upcoming autobiography -

due out early 2013!?)

Triathletes and marathon runners shouldn’t fear the end - finishing

a long hard run or Triathlon is a bit like dying. The day after you are

a just a bit stiff....

For those outside the triathlon fraternity ‘L’ is the age 60-64

category as defined by the British Triathlon Federation. Having

started my running career – if you can call it that - back in 1981

at the tender age of 29, I have now gone to L – literally....

Foreword.

Before 1981, my perception of long-distance running (or running

just for the hell of it) in the UK was that it was mainly for odd-balls

– people who had tried, and perhaps failed at the more

conventional sports at school. Track running, especially middle

distance events as part of Athletics had always had a fairly steady

following in Britain but probably more so in the 70s and 80s than it

is today? Perhaps the London Olympics might re-invigorate the

nations interest and more youngsters especially will head for their

nearest Athletics track. As I write however, I fear Team GB will

struggle to medal in all but a few *middle and long distance

running events and any glimmer of enthusiasm will fade before the

end of the year. * OK – perhaps a certain Somali born GB athlete

might do quite well!! Maybe it’s because that back in the 70s we

regularly turned out world-class middle distance runners. Coe,

Ovett, Moorcroft, Cram et al. The media jumped on the

bandwagon and these guys subsequently became household

names. Running finally was beginning to look ‘cool’ and british

youngsters had a belief that they could be the best runners in the

world.

Road, trail and marathon running was still distinctly a minority

sport. I remember from school the 1962 film and book “The

Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner” by Alan Sillitoe and that

galvanised mine and I guess a lot of other peoples views of running

– i.e it was a ‘lonely’ old business. However in 1977 things were

stirring in the USA. People – lots of people- were out running.. to

get fit, to compete in the occasional race or just because they could

– and yes it actually felt good!

A guy called James (Jim) Fixx had written a book called the

“Complete Book of Running” and in so doing helped launch the first

global running boom.... and over in Hawaii, a top endurance

swimmer, an ultra distance cyclist and marathon runner decided to

challenge each other to an IRONman Triathlon. The following year

in ’78, 15 triathletes took part and the rest, as they say, is history.

The running boom inevitably crossed the Pond in ‘80/’81 and I,

along with many others got caught up in this new sport and pass

time for the masses.

From 1982 to 1986 running exploded in the UK and mainland

Europe– events appeared everywhere – from 5 miles up to the

Marathon. Established athletic clubs didnt quite know how to cope

with the influx of new runners who weren’t particularly interested

in track running. New clubs were formed – Striders, Road runners,

Fun Runners, Runners, Joggers and Shufflers sprung up alongside

the established ‘Athletics Clubs (AC)s’

Triathlon didn’t really take off big time until the late 1980s but by

the mid to late 1990s was itself booming, with runners, swimmers

and cyclists all keen on giving multi-sport a go.

The great thing about Running and Triathlon and probably one of

the main reasons for it’s success is that you don’t need to book up

a venue, don’t need to check whether your buddy or team are free,

the court or pitch is available, don’t need a referee and you are not

constrained by time – just take off wherever or whenever you feel

inclined. Cycle to work, run to work. Run before work, swim at

lunchtime, run home from work, run and bike with the kids in a

buggy. It was and is just a case of being imaginative. Innovative

event organizations took advantage of our lust for all things

running and all manner of races appeared on the scene.

Although Triathlon will always be a summer sport unless you have

the means to move hemispheres twice a year, there is no real

season for running, it’s just as much fun (off-road) in the snow as

t is on a beautiful warm summers day.

It was this thinking that coaxed me away from football and squash -

30 years ago and set me on a journey of discovery. This is my story -

a pretty average runner and triathlete, someone who likes to

compete but, more importantly, enjoys the training experience, the

cameraderie of like-minded people exploring the countryside and

testing their minds and bodies against the terrain, the elements and

pushing to see how far and how fast they can do it. Sometimes I

prefer to run and bike alone, sometimes with a big group. More

often than not I like hills, woods, mountains and heathland, but

other times it’s fine racing on flat tarmac against the clock. By

including Triathlon, the scope for adventure is even wider – road

cycling, sportives, racing across continents!, MTB on trails, open

water swimming in lakes, rivers

and sea.

I first saw the light one warm May morning in 1981. Still in the

Company’s squash league, my buddy Ray suggested we try and

get a bit fitter and he took me on a 3 mile run around the Colworth

Estate where we both worked. We didnt have proper running

shoes, just a pair of old Green Flash tennis shoes. We set off at an

easy pace and after about a mile or so came that ‘eureka moment’.

I had run a bit like this training for football and being forced, at

school to do Cross-country when the football pitch was too

waterlogged, but now I suddenly just enjoyed doing it – running.

Feeling the warmth of the sun, the breeze, listening to the birds,

seeing new countryside. We weren’t racing, just running a

comfortable pace. It immediately made me question why I wanted

to go into a big box and hit a little green ball around for half an hour

or more. I carried on playing squash for a few more months but the

writing was on the wall. ....I had become a runner.

My Journey To L.....From The Colworth 5 to The Race Across America,

Duathlon, Triathlon, Ironman and back again...

Stories from 30 years

of running, cycling

and swimming...

By Richard Piron

8

Looking backon 2012, the Olympicsand all thatWhen Adam asked me to write an article for the magazine my

thoughts were a) another year gone by, already, how? and b) did

anything remarkable actually happen in 2012?

Well, the Queen celebrated her Diamond Anniversary and even as a

non-British person I appreciated all the pomp and glory and I even

watched some of that endless boat procession. When it comes to

putting on a spectacle the Jubilee was only outdone by the Olympics.

London really knows how to put on a show. I know that some of the

Harriers acted as games-makers and by all accounts it was something

they will remember forever.

Tickets to the Olympics were, allegedly, rare and so when we got a

request from my German cousin to book her some tickets my heart

sank. My cousin, her husband and their daughter Finja had a special

reason to be at the Olympics. Finja competes in the heptathlon and

represents Germany in her age group, she is 16 at the moment. Will

she compete in the next Olympics? Who knows. It’s a long and

expensive road for an amateur athlete. Anyway, she was desperate to

get in to see the athletics events and we applied for 6 sessions. We only

got the one session, but were so fortunate that it was the evening of

the “Golden Saturday” when Jessica Ennis won the heptathlon and Mo

Farah won another gold.

Their seats were perfect, everybody was friendly, the crowd was

deafening, everybody cried and for just one moment the stadium (and

the nation!) celebrated as one. I think if anyone appreciates the effort

it took for Jessica Ennis to win the heptathlon it is a fellow athlete.

Whilst not taking anything away from the efforts of Mo and the others

(and certainly not from the Iron men and women I know!!), I think it

takes a special person to win the heptathlon. You have to be good at

seven different disciplines. For the shot put and javelin throw you

want muscles, big muscles. But they are not very helpful for keeping

your weight down to make you run fast in the 100m hurdles, 800m

and 200m. You then need the skill for the high jump which requires

maximum precision so that you launch yourself at the right moment.

Anyway, we will be able to follow Finja’s progress in the heptathlon as

she is coming to stay in England for a year from September 2013 and

will train with Beds & County (did I hear “boo, hiss”?). She has also

taken up pole vaulting so if you see us lugging her six poles around you

will know why. We are learning a lot at the moment, for example that

you need different poles for different conditions so they can be longer,

shorter, more bendy, more rigid etc. She currently clears 3.20 metres,

just measure that against a wall and look up and imagine yourself

jumping that high, I get vertigo just imagining it.

Oh, one more highlight of 2012: Watching Bev Hayes and fellow

runners in a race, all dressed in their school uniforms. Allegedly, the

organisers have asked them to come back every year dressed like that

as it really drew the crowds. It actually just confirmed what I have

always said: “die Doofen werden nicht alle, sie werden Mitglied bei den

Bedford Harriers.” Loosely translated as: “Bedford Harriers are all a bit

nuts but quite lovable with it”. Happy New Year and Happy Running.

Photos by Ian Sturdgess

9

By Jutta Crane

From 2005 as a CompleteBeginner

I joined the Bedford Harriers in 2005 as a complete beginner. The first

time our group were able to ‘run on the road’ we felt like ‘proper

runners’. Since then I have done races from 5K to Half Marathons and

Triathlons. I am proud to say I was on the Race Management Team

which I can recommend to everyone, if you can’t run the race it’s nice

to see it from the other side. Everyone that you cheer on at races is

very appreciative of marshals and it makes it a very worthwhile job.

I also completed all of the Cross Country races last year just so that

I could get my beanie hat (which I haven’t worn yet!). I recently moved

to Weymouth but I have to say I am VERY PROUD to have been

a Bedford Harrier for the last seven years. I have met some fantastic

friends through it and if anyone had said to me years ago that I

would be a runner I would have bet money on it that I wouldn’t.

I say GIVE IT A GO, you will feel fantastic after achieving something

that you perhaps thought you couldn’t do. Thank you to everyone

that made it so special.

By Elise Allen

Still Some NicePeople in theWorldOne nice group of people are the guys at the Beds Garden

Carers our chosen charity for this year - When Paul Sutherland

showed me round their HQ in Brereton Road, Bedford. He

introduced me to a bunch of guys who

love sanding and restoring furniture.

Over a year later when it was

brought up at the committee

meeting that our lovely bench that

was kindly donated to us in

memory of Doug Anderson was in

need of some TLC I remembered

this fact. I phoned BGC asked them if

they would mind putting their skills to

good use. Of course they said yes, they picked it

up and spent many happy hours sanding polishing and oiling

the bench to restore it to its former glory and returned it back

into situ. It now looks great and should be good for many years

to come - a big thank you to BGC.

Maybe if you have time, take a trip round to our lockup where

our bench lives and spend a few moments testing the bench

and admiring their good work.

As a footnote the restoring team leader at Beds Garden Carers

was so impressed with the quality of the wooden joints that

are now few years old he decided to phone up Stuart Garden

Architecture who made the bench to tell them how impressed

he was - the next week a van pulled up with a brand new top

quality bench for the charity as a thanks for such a nice phone

call - that's another bunch of really nice people!

Beds County XCThe championships were well under way by the time the

Harriers needed to be there, the men were starting at 1pm for

their 3 or 4 laps (11k approx) depending on age and the ladies

starting at 2pm for a mere 2 laps! (5k!!)

The course was all on grass with some very steep hills and then

the massive descents - all of it was muddy and slippery! It was a

great venue to watch the race as you can see a lot of the runners

and seeing who had fallen over with their sides covered in mud.

The men went off for their 4 laps the over 60’s only having to

complete 3 and the temperature decided to drop so out came

the scarves and hats but this did not stop us cheering and

encouraging them round the course. There were some fantastic

sprint finishes and a good result from the men.

The ladies, all 4 of them, started and the faster ladies did lap

some of the remaining men on course. Again watching and

cheering our ladies into 2nd Vets team and age category

winners.

It is hoped that the organisers will up the distance for the

ladies as only 2 laps is rather an insult on their ability!!

Next is Parliament Hills and I shall be running this event -

pink spikes have been ordered.

Results

Anna Folland 2nd Lady, 1st vet and 1st vet 40

Kevin Willett 1st Vet 45

Alastair Fadden 3rd Vet 45

Neil Lovesey 1st Vet 50

Richard Piron 1st Vet 60

at Campbell Park, Milton Keynes

Saturday 5th January

3rd Vet Men’s Team

Kev Willett

Alastair Fadden

Gary Finch

Chris Linney

Dave Roberts

Neil Lovesey

By Angie Kay

By Alastair Fadden

10

2nd Senior Ladies & Vet Team

Anna Folland

Sally Cartwright

Sally Johnson

TestingEinstein’sTheoryApparently Einstein claimed that 98% of people could not solve a

riddle about European male smokers and drinkers. His puzzle has

been recast using terms more familiar to runners (and to discourage

sneaks on the web!). Can 10 or more Harriers solve it?

The top 5 runners in the Shires Road Race Championship came from 5

different clubs and each celebrated their success with a different drink.

Each runner used a different brand of shoe and different colour shorts

throughout the season, and each had the best WAVA percentage at one

of the 5 contested distances.

The Hurrier was the Shires’ champion.

The Jogger wore red shorts.

The Ambler was best at the marathon

The runner in green shorts was best at 10k.

The runner in yellow shorts wore ASICS shoes.

The runner in Saucony shoes was best at the 5k.

The Plodderwore Nike shoes.The runner who wore

New Balance shoes drank white wine.

The runner placed 3rd was best at the half-marathon.

The runner in Adidas shoes was placed next to the one who drank beer.

The runner who drank red wine placed next to the one

who wore ASICS shoes.

The runner in green shorts placed just ahead of the one in black shorts.

The runner in Adidas shoes placed next to the best at 5 miles.

The Hurrier placed next to the runner with blue shorts.

The Striders member drank lemonade.

Who celebrated by drinking water?

Life on theFront Row ofthe GriddleDespite my best efforts to poison all the runners at our very own

Half Marathon, once again I was asked to cook the sausages and

bacon. I arrived a 8 o’clock armed with 5kgs of chopped onions

(thank goodness for swimming googles or I would still be crying

now), homemade vegetable soup and various cooking utensils.

I fully expected to have to setup the oven, tables and the gazebo to

find this had all been done for me but right round the corner from

my normal near kitchen position. OK...so who have I upset this

time? But the reality was the night shift of the setup crew had

attempted put up the gazebo and it had exploded in the high winds

and it was considered more sheltered round the corner - good call,

thank you chaps!

Apart from the oven and hob flames being blown out on a regular

basis all was going well, bangers and bacon coming off the

production line. I just needed the kitchen staff to sell them a little

faster and we might just cook the small food mountain that had

been supplied for the morning!

With the bacon smell slowly working it's way across to Cranfield I

managed to attract my first friend of the day a local farm boarder

collie dog. Always with health and safety in mind strong words like

'Go away' and 'Shoo' at first I appeared to have the upper hand! But

this hound was playing the long game. At first it was a quick dip into

the bin pulling out a batch of burnt Onions which was grabbed and

taken into the play ground to be dispatched (I guess it was a little

fruity in the farmhouse that night). Time to get the upper hand

again and box up all the meat, hide the bin and keep half an eye on

my four legged friend. Apart from the odd bit of packaging that was

lifted by the wind I was winning the war.

Cooking in full flow, bacon and onions on the grill and a full batch of

bangers nearly cooked in the oven and I had to make an

announcement to the kitchen staff - 'I'm very sorry, but I can't serve

the sausages and there will be a short break while I solve a minor

problem - the blasted dog has stolen my oven gloves' - (you will be

glad to know that the Harriers property was recovered with the aid

of many years of running finally been put to good use!) Zoe soon

came to the rescue with the aid of couple of a clean tea towels, but

it took a little longer for Jutta to recover from laughing at my

expense! Round two to the dog.

With everything wiped down again and cooking back in full flow, the

soup was bubbling on the stove and the make shift oven gloves

doing the job. The dog was keeping a low profile, maybe that hard

stare and moderate language did the trick. This sly old dog had one

last game to play on me before the end of play. This time coming

from the other side of the building coming out of the shadow a

quick grab and he's got my wooden spoon (not one of my prize

winning one's). Shuttle run training this time let me down - the

closer I got to the hound the faster he got. The last I saw of the little

pest was on the horizon mashing my spoon like an old stick. (may I

use this article as invoice for £2.99 to the Harriers for a new spoon?)

If I find myself on the griddle next year I would like to put in an

equipment request to the race management: a spare set of oven

gloves, more disinfectant and a Toy Nerf Gun with a bag of foam

bullets in case my furry friend wants to put his title back on the line

for a rematch!

By Bob WellsBy Alastair

Fadden

11