home
news / twitter feed
hkhiking
hiking
next hike
difficulty levels
equipment list
hkhiking
hiking books
book features
happy hikes
adventurous hikes
hkhiking
trailrunning
trailrunning blog
gear reviews
strava fun
hkhiking
poetry
hkhiking
photos
gallery tips
hkhiking
useful links
hkhiking
contact us
  trailrunning > trailrunning blog > 10.11.2013
 
10.11.2013 – 23.49km / 1:43:01 Guildford 8
     Guildford 8 is one of my favourite training runs. A fast initial flattish 10km which undulates gently with occasional muddy, awkward sections to soften the legs up. Followed by a hilly, muddy, technical second half that really tests your endurance and the strength you have left in those aforementioned legs. For example, running fast downhill on a rocky, muddy, slippery, meandering descent after 18km really exposes tired legs. And then you have to hit 4min/km on the susequent flat section. At 23.5km it's a nice length too. Short enough to run fast in one sustained burst. Long enough to improve your endurance. Oh yeah, and I almost forgot, it's fucking beautiful. Mud paths through woodland, rural fields, ridiculously muddy sections that embrace your feet like quicksand, a gorgeous church at the top of one of the hills, awe inspiring views of the surrounding countryside .....

I have always considered sub 1:45 on this route to be a very good trailrun indeed (I had never managed this before). On Thursday of this week I ran 1:45:30 - which was close. It made me realise I could make a realistic attempt at sub-1:45. This led to a minor obsession in the intervening two days where I was desperate to get out there again but wanted my legs to be fresh and ready. So this morning I woke up ready. And ran. And this was a concerted effort. A tough, tough run. Attacking everything, hills, downhills, flats. Squelching recklessly through boggy, muddy sections. Breathlessly on the verge of red-lining. Always pushing. No let up. Single minded and totally focused (with the occasional cheeky glance at the amazing views). The last 5km pure pain cave. And I got it. 1:43:01. I was so euphoric at the end that I screamed for joy ... then collapsed on the floor to catch my breath.

And the moral of the story is? There is no moral. I set myself a subjective target time on a subjectively chosen route. Pushed myself to my physical limit to achieve this time and felt fucking amazing when I managed it. That's all. And wow it was amazing out there today. Trailrunning. It's just another story.