Drogo

Sunday 25th November saw the Westgates down in the scenic Devon countryside for the Drogo 10. For a demanding off-road 10 miler this must be one of the best. Late on Saturday we realised our names weren’t on the website entrants list and a conversation with the organisers confirmed they had not received our entry. The postal service just isn’t what it used to be with belligerent post-persons striking willy-nilly! We sorted out an entry on the day in advance, so slept easy.

After some truly foul, wet, windy weather, Sunday dawned bright and still and warm. We arrived an hour and a half early, truly relaxed although the red car was looking a bit mud-splattered. A record entry with, in my estimation, £2000 going to the National Trust. Following last year’s change the start and finish were outside the castle giving a fantastic race a splendid backdrop.

With the first couple of miles being downhill and narrow I decided to set off at full tilt to avoid any bottlenecks. The pace hurt and people fell on the tricky surface. Mile markers were clear and marshals and tape plentiful. A very demanding hill at around 4 miles reduced most runners to at least some walking. There were many good downhill stretches to get back on the gas. The section between miles 7 and 8 along the River Teign was very scenic but, by God, I was suffering and found it difficult to maintain any pace and it just went on and on. (a bit like Richard’s blogs – LW). Sharon Daw went past me at this stage and there was no way I could keep in contact. The final tortuous climb – Hunters Path – really hurt the legs; sweat was pouring off my head and face like a mini waterfall. Having summited there was an undulating path before another kick in the guts – a flight of steps. Onwards and upwards and soon the castle was in sight. A good crowd of vociferous spectators lifted spirits for a final sprint. I felt so happy, (it doesn’t take much – LW), and couldn’t stop smiling. I had pushed and enjoyed, and also beaten runners who had beaten me recently. It was in fact a personal worst but who cares we are all getting older. (so how come I got a PB – LW).

On a final note – it was extremely muddy and wet underfoot. At home Lesley neatly folded her running vest – not a drop of sweat or mud and put it away for the next race. I only know she’s human after watching her reverse the car into a narrow drive in the dark and wet.