The last Sunday before the end of the summer holidays has become our annual family trip to Corfe for a morning of Daddy killing himself slogging up, down and round about the South Dorset countryside and Mummy killing herself carting assorted children up, down and round about the castle, followed by an afternoon of the whole family "relaxing" on the beach at Studland.
The Beast is, IMHO, one of the best races in the south. It had proved a real corker for two years so, with all the hill training which can't be avoided when running around Axminster, I hoped for a good performance. (This is usually tempting fate. I sometimes feel great before a race and have high expectations then wind up with a bad result. Conversely a lot of my best results have followed low expectations. Strange. Is there some deep, psychological reason for this? Answers on a postcard, please.)
The car park was in the usual field which gives a taste of the race itself - flat at one end sloping down to a stream at the other! It was pretty tight both with cars in the field and bodies in the public toilets opposite (as a supplement to which full use was made of the many convenient bushes near the start!).
The weather was good and the ground relatively dry so I had the usual quandary over what to wear - vest or t-shirt on top, flats or studs on the feet? I opted for vest and studs (plus shorts, of course - I wouldn't want anyone to think I went out improperly dressed!) which were fine.
The first mile of the race is good for spectators since you run down a road for half a mile before looping back over Corfe Common to pass by the other halves, children and assorted hangers-on who have rushed over from the start line to see you all in full flow before you pass on for another eleven or twelve miles (depending upon who you believe) of fields, footpaths and all the usual stuff. I think the course is probably scenic (racing isn't the best way to appreciate the countryside) but it is most definitely hard work. I don't remember any short, flat bits - just lots of ups and downs with long flat bits in between. I'm definitely at my best on the "hillocks and rowlocks" (to quote the infamous Dungbeetle) so found it rather hard to maintain a position on those long tracks stretching into the distance.
The last third was the hardest part of the race. The infamous "big dipper" for starters - down and back up where a hanging valley crosses the cliff top path with steps that are too small to take singly and too big to take two at a time; the final cliff-top climb after crossing a field away from the road that goes towards the finish; the long flat bit in from the coast where it's so hard digging in to maintain position; a nice descent back to the common and finally the last half mile across the undulations of Corfe Common again back to the finish.
But wait, what's this? I was approaching the finish field and ... Zut Alors! (or something stronger depending upon how much energy you've got left) the tapes are going away from it. Now what were they saying before we started about the finish being moved to the field below the car park ... which itself is on the other side of the field where the finish used to be so that means ... yep, running around the old finish field to get to the new one and then another long, flat bit before the finish banner is in sight. The final obstacle is a linear marsh right across the finish straight. So what's it to be - a big effort to jump over or risking drowning in a mud bath? Who knows - I just got across somehow and made it to the finish line without having lost a place since leaving the cliff top. Pretty good going, if I say so myself.
And then there's the beach. Well, usually. But the sky was darkening so we didn't get to "relax" at Studland after all. Just straight home to rest my weary limbs for a "relaxing" evening - with children to be fed, bathed, entertained and finally put to bed, closely followed by myself!