Gosport Golden Mile and 5K – first published 2 June 2013

There was a new running race in town in June 2013. Ok, it wasn’t in our town, it was down the road a few miles in Gosport, but Commando was raring to have a go. In actual fact it was two races in one, a mile sprint along the shore at Stokes Bay followed by a 5k run. Of course, Commando had put his name down for both and, obviously, I was going along to watch and have a walk. Best of all it was a bright, sunny, Sunday morning.

2 June 2013

It was an earlier start than I’d have really liked for a Sunday morning but it couldn’t be helped because today was the inaugural Gosport Golden Mile and 5k and Commando was running both. This is mainly because he’s mad but then it takes one to know one. After all the early rising, packing of chocolate milk energy drinks and pinning on of race numbers, (accompanied by yelps every time I put a pin in even though I was nowhere near sticking it in him. If he keeps doing that one of these days I’m going to jab him on purpose I swear) it nearly didn’t happen.

We drove down towards Gosport and, as we got nearer the venue it became apparent Commando didn’t actually know where the race started. Of course he knew the name of the place but, in a massive error of judgement, probably bought on by the upside down inside out week or so we’ve had, he had omitted to actually enter it into the satnav. Given that Fort Gilkicker featured as part of the course and I’d walked there when he ran the Gosport half marathon, I had a pretty good idea we were driving the wrong direction along the shore but he made it quite clear my input was not required. Granted, I’m not known for my sense of direction but just for once…

In the end it was conceded that I might have been on the right track and we turned round and went back the other way. Good job we left in plenty of time really then! We found a car park just across the road from the start line but the stupid pay and display machine spat our money out which was irritating. The race started at ten and it was about quarter to at this point and as the machine said parking time started at ten we thought perhaps it wouldn’t accept money before then so we set off to collect Commando’s race chip and I said I’d go back afterwards and feed the machine.

When I went back it turned out the blasted thing was just broken so we couldn’t pay or display. I dashed back across the road just in time to see the race starting. I do like to be there at the start line. The first race was the Golden Mile, a run along the promenade for a mile and then a stroll, or jog back if you were also running the 5k. Commando was hoping for a seven minute mile, which he says is quite slow but I personally find quite impressive, so, even if he walked back, it wasn’t worth me going anywhere much before the 5k started.

There was nothing for it but to hang around on the shingle beach looking at the plant life and picking up shells. This wasn’t much of a hardship because it was a beautiful blue sky, sunny morning and, as I may haven mentioned before, I’m a bit of a magpie for shells and pretty stones. I actually have a couple of big glass receptacles in my house filled with stones and shells from all over the world. Really, I can’t help myself. There was a great temptation to fill my bag with my finds, especially as you seem to get a greater variety of shell along the shore at Stokes Bay, which is where we actually were. Maybe it’s more that they are different shells to the ones along my own little shore and familiarity breeds contempt but still, I kept picking up shells and putting them back down again. In the end I limited myself to two.

As for plant life this was also a bit different to the stuff that grows along the shore at home but the bit of beach I was waiting on didn’t have much of anything except the normal boring dandelions, tufts of coarse grass and a tiny patch of horned poppy with an interesting prickly leaf bud but no flowers. In the end I sat on a bench and waited with baited breath for Commando to come back. Whether he would be jogging or walking I had no idea. A few runners were beginning to come back at a jog though so I guessed I needed to keep an eye out.

Actually it wasn’t long before I spotted the unmistakeable figure in the distance jogging towards me. After so many years of marriage, I can usually tell it’s him even when he’s just a speck on the horizon, I have no idea how but those long legs and the short grey hair might just give the game away. Turns out he actually manged the mile in six and a half minutes which is pretty spectacular for a man of a certain age who hasn’t run a sprint since school. Suffice to say he was well chuffed.

The 5k wasn’t starting until about half past ten, once all the Golden Miler’s who’d also entered it had come back and handed in their chips. This meant there was a bit of waiting around and Commando suggested I could start off walking towards the lifeboat station which is not far from Fort Gilkicker and the half way point and then I’d see him when he passed me. If I turned back at the lifeboat station I probably wouldn’t actually be there when he finished but he said he didn’t mind and it did mean I’d get a little walk in. Before I left he hung his Golden Mile medal round my neck for safekeeping.

It was a much more pleasant walk than the first time I took this route back in November wrapped up in my parka, a hat and gloves and feeling frozen. The sun beat down on my bare arms, the gentle sea breeze ruffled my hair and life felt good. The little water park was almost overflowing with children dancing in and out of the water jets laughing and right next to it a cafe served food and coffee. The smell of the coffee was very enticing and I almost stopped to buy one. Just in time I talked myself out of it and kept going. I didn’t want to keep Commando waiting on the finish line for too long, especially as I had his post race milk shake in my rucksack.

Just after this a race marshal shouted out “well done” to me as I went past. I stopped and looked at her blankly. Well done for what I wondered? She couldn’t possibly think I was a runner, not only was I walking but I had no race number and the race hadn’t even started at that point. Then it dawned on me, the medal, she thought I’d just run the Gilden Mile. Of course I could have just basked in Commando’s reflected glory but I didn’t, I came clean and explained. After all, I couldn’t run a mile even if a big hairy lion was snapping at my heels.

Preparation for a different kind of race was going on at the sailing club, boats being towed out to the sea, people in wet suits everywhere and the sound of sails flapping in the breeze. I stopped, looking out to sea, to take a photo of all the activity and nearly got mown down by a boat being pushed onto the slipway. The poor man was very apologetic but he couldn’t see what was in front of him because of the big sail and the boat. Note to self, be more aware when boats are being pushed around, I’m pretty sure that would have hurt.

A little further on I spotted a stone with a bronze plaque commemorating the Mulberry Harbours that were built along here back in 1943 and 1944. For those who don’t know, the Mulberry Harbours were temporary harbours built during World War II then taken to the D Day beaches to help quickly offload cargo for the invasion of Normandy. The harbours were constructed from many huge caissons (code named Phoenix), then towed across the channel by tugs where everything was put together like a huge jigsaw puzzle by the Corps of Royal Engineers. The American harbour, at Omaha beach was destroyed by a storm on June 19 but the British one, Port Winston, survived at Arromanches and, in fact, lasted for five months longer than the three it was designed to withstand. It was used to land over two and a half million men, fifty thousand vehicles and four million tonnes of supplies.

Not long after I’d passed the odd little row of beach huts and been greeted with a cheery “good morning” by the elderly ladies sitting outside sipping mugs of tea, the first 5k runners started coming up behind me. From then on it was a case of stopping and looking back every few steps to see if I could spot Commando. It wasn’t long before I saw him and he passed me with a cheery smile and a big thumbs up before running off into the distance. Good job I didn’t have a skinny latte in my hand then.

By this time I wasn’t far from the lifeboat station so I thought I’d go that far then turn back. It’s actually quite a nice looking building, red brick with a tile roof and a viewing platform, I remembered taking photos of it on my first walk to Fort Gilkicker. I’m not sure if the people looking out from the viewing platform were keeping an eye out for accidents in the sailing races or watching the race, there seemd to be rather more of them than strictly necessary.

As I stopped to take a photo of the blue and orange lifeboat on the shore, along with a matching tractor, I heard a race marshal shout to the runners to “keep to the right, there will be runners coming back this way soon.” This was my cue to turn round and start walking back. Thinking of the runners soon to be coming back I decided to walk along the shore rather than on the path, especially as there were going to be runners going in both directions at this stage.

Of course this gave me a chance to have a look at the seaside flora. Up at this end of the shore there was much more of it for some reason. There were many mounds of sea campion, bulbous pink sepals topped with a ring of overlapping white petals, the stamens and fuzzy anthers poking out from a well in the centre. There are none of these along my shore. Other mounds, blue green in colour, were sea kale in full flower. The berry like yellow buds opening to masses of four petaled white flowers. Each flower on its own wasn’t much to look at four white petals, a fat yellow sigma turning pink with age. The effect of them en mass topping the mounds of glaucous blue green wavy leaves was quite something though. Sea kale is actually a brassica, like cabbage and is edible. I’m told its quite tasty steamed and served with bechamel sauce but I’ve never tired it myself. There were also small tufts of birsdfoot trefoil (thanks New Hampshire Garden Solutions for pointing that out) scattered in the grass, the yellow flowers making a change from white.

By this time I was back at the sailing club and a loud claxon marked the start of a race. I looked out to sea but couldn’t really work out where the start line was. Little sailing boats seemed to be dotted about quite randomly to my land lubbers eye although I’m sure they all knew exactly what they were up to. By this time walking along the shingle was getting quite wearing and I had a stone in my shoe. Once I’d fished it out I decided to go back to the path, the runners going towards the fort were now just a thin trickle and only a few were coming back the other way so I figured I wouldn’t get in the way as long as I kept close to the edge of the path. Passing the cafe again I saw they were selling ice cream as well as coffee but, again, I didn’t stop, much as I’d have liked an ice cream right about then.

One elderly lady runner, heading towards the half way point at the fort smiled at me as she passed. “Am I nearly there?” she gasped. “Almost,” I told her, “not long now.” I stopped for a moment to take a photo of a stone commemorating the embarkation of Canadian troops on their way to Normandy for D Day but I was careful to keep watch for runners as I crossed the path the get a closer look. As plaques go it was quite attractive with the Canadian and British flags side by side and two red maple leaves at the bottom. I couldn’t help wondering how many of those Canadian solders came home again.

Of course I was keeping an eye out for Commando on his way back, stopping every so often and squinting into the sun to look for him. Not long after I’d passed the Canadian stone he came past. Now it was time for me to speed up and I stopped dawdling and pushed my pace, still keeping to one side to avoid getting in the way of the race. With all my keeping out of the way, especially as the promenade was full of families with puschairs, cyclists, skateboarders and the like, I was more than a little annoyed when a rather fat man with a race number standing at the side of the path in my way shouted at me to take the other path and get out of the way of the race. For one the other path was a longer route and secondly, the only person in the way was the fat man standing in the middle of the path shouting at me. He wasn’t running so I am guessing he’d only run the Golden Mile, there is no way someone of his girth and apparent unfitness could have finished the 5k and got back that far to stand and shout at people.

I did take the other path but I was quite cross at being ordered about so rudely. It wasn’t long before I got back to the start finish line and found Commando waiting for me. We sat on the shingle while he drank his chocolate milk and we clapped the runners still coming in. We both agreed it was a place well worth another visit. Today we had to get back because Commando had work this evening and we had to get Commando Senior packed up and shipped back to the farm before that.

Thankfully the removals, after a spot of lunch and a coffee, didn’t take too long. Commando Senior made it down our front step and up the steep front path without incident. He’d spent his last morning enjoying the sunshine on the decking soaking up some vitamin D. I’ll expect he’ll miss that as it isn’t as easy to get outside at the farm. Once they drove off Mini Commando went back inside for another coffee. The gym looked really empty without the special chair and all Commando Senior’s accoutrements. Hopefully it won’t be long before he’s back to full fitness and driving down to see us. I’ve promised him a fancy walking stick so he can look like an elderly gentleman of means but I’m not giving it to him unless he does all his exercises and starts getting about under his own steam.