Anyway, back to business

Or, 15 weeks and counting.

So, after last week's protracted diversion into the minutiae of endurance motorsport, we return this week to a a more usual subject: random running around in the west of Scotland. Or, this week, "the boiling hot west of Scotland".

Phew, it's been warm and, as I alluded to a few weeks ago, the heat and me have an uneasy relationship when it comes to running. I tend to overheat quite badly, and as a result performance drops off a cliff. As a result I've rethought my hydration strategy, so whereas in the winter I would take a 250ml drink bottle out on runs of over 13 miles, this week it's accompanied me on every run. I will be going up to a 500ml bottle for longer runs and using energy gels more often.

The downside of the gels is that they can sit rather uncomfortably on the stomach and cause cramps, nausea or, in the case of Wednesday's run, the growing realisation at 4 miles that a toilet break of a significant nature is required. Fortunately I was in the middle of nowhere - a deserted single-track country lane with a tall screening wall available. It's all very ecologically sound. Dig out a hole with a handy rock; hunker down and attend to the business; remember that dock leaves have uses beyond soothing nettle stings; re-fill hole with the excavated soil. You'd never know I was there. The view down to Arran was stunning too...

Anyway, sorry if I've put you off your tea. The rest of the week saw me try a new run - downhill from the house to the Academy, along the front and back up the hills at the far end of town. A reasonable 5 and a bit miles, which will be a good route for recovery runs, but done at a slightly higher pace this week and suffering in the heat coming back up the hills.

Another change to the schedule is that Sunday will be the long run day for the foreseeable future, as the golf season is upon us and there's usually some competition or other on a Saturday, plus a couple of pints and a bacon roll afterwards. Today however, rather than a training run, was the Men's Health Forum Scotland 10k for Men in Glasgow. A right mouthful, and the last of my scheduled early-summer 10k's. Having dipped my PB again to 43:24 in Dumbarton a couple of weeks ago, the plan was to see what could be done today to lower it further. Yet again, it was hot - 17 degrees at 9am, but just a hint of a breeze to take the edge off it.

With the spooky correlations of the number 45 at the Alloa Half Marathon in March (see here), I was pleased to see my number, 270, was a multiple of 45. It was slightly spooky, though, to meet up with a former colleague, Paul McGreevy, with whom I intended to run, and find that he was wearing 269 despite us entering completely independently. Actually, when I say "run with", what I mean is "shamelessly use his superior fitness to try and haul myself round to a PB".

All started well and by 7k I was just about holding on to a PB pace - albeit perspiring and gasping furiously -  when, on the gentle rise out of Pollok Country Park, my right calf spasmed a couple of times and tightened immediately. Waving Paul on, I jogged gently home to finish in 46:24.

Slightly vexed, after the occasional injury problems during preparation for London, to hit one in week one when I'd hoped for a clearer run. However, that's life. I have a couple of enforced days rest anyway, with a job interview on Tuesday, so I'll just wait and see how things are in the middle of next week.

Going to keep the music choices going for the time being too. I've used this one before, but it's perked my mood up a couple of times this week when I've been feeling a grouchy.



Week's summary: 3 runs, 20 miles: Long run 7.8 miles (plus slight toilet detour)
Miles since entering Le Mans: 62

If I may digress for a moment

Or, 16 weeks and counting...

So, this is it. The start of the 16 week training programme for the Le Mans marathon. So this week's blog is about Le Mans - or, specifically, the long weekend my son (aka The Boy) and I have just enjoyed at the 24 Heures du Mans.

The 24 Heures has to be one of the greatest annual sporting events. It's history and traditions place it with the Monaco Grand Prix and Indianapolis 500 at the pinnacle of motorsport, but the sheer length and distance covered (over 5000km) place it a step ahead in my book.

On top of that, there are the legends. The Bentley Boys. The 1953 Jaguars being reinstated after a technical infringement, by which time the drivers were allegedly drunk in a bar and proceeded to race to victory fuelled by occasional brandy top-ups. The flying Mercedes' of 1999 with Mark Webber and legendarily Peter Dumbreck in the race bringing a whole new meaning to car aerodynamics. The tragic disaster of 1955 where hundreds in the stands lost their lives.

Part of the fun of course is the annual exodus from the UK, with over 100,000 people travelling to the event every year. Often in exotic vehicles at speeds that make the Gendarmerie very unhappy. Didn't see much this year, except the McLaren F1 which we spotted several times over the weekend, firstly at the Channel Tunnel terminal. This is, let us not forget, a car that is capable of 240 mph and which will sell for something between £1.5 and £2.5 million.

We travelled south on Friday and enjoyed the fact that the peage toll booth controllers were on strike on Friday, affording us a free journey down to Amiens (nice, you should go). In true French style, despite being on strike, they had still turned up at the exit booths and were gleefully waving people through.

On Saturday morning we trundled down more empty (but non-gratuit) peage and arrived in the vicinity of the circuit by 1130. As you can imagine, the complications of getting 250,000 people into not many car parks does lead to a little traffic congestion. Having sat in one queue for half an hour, we decided to try a little diversion and got to the car park (after an extra lap caused by overshooting the entrance) by about 1pm. 90 minutes to do 5k! Into the circuit and a last minute decision to grab a grandstand ticket owing to a poor weather forecast saw us in a great spot directly above the pit lane for the last hour of build up.

Whilst the traditional Le Mans start, with the drivers running across the circuit and leaping into their cars before driving off, was abandoned many years ago for safety reasons, a variant had been devised this year. Cars lined up on the pit wall, drivers opposite, and at the appointed moment the drivers ran across the circuit and entered the car, with a few minutes to make sure all was well before the green flag sent them out on an exploratory lap.

The cars then formed behind the safety car for the now usual rolling start. The sense of anticipation on this last lap is immense, and the packed tribunes are all on their feet as the Tricoleur drops and cars take the start at 3pm sharp. Straight away the much fancied Peugeot diesel's blast away from the Audis and satart to build a lead. Then, just over half an hour in, we get the first safety car as Nigel Mansell suffers a tyre blow-out and spears into the wall on the hugely fast run down to Indianapolis corner.

The length of the lap at Le Mans (13.2km) means that three safety cars are deployed and, just like the post office, getting caught in the queue behind the wrong car can put you a minute or more behind the cars you're racing against. Thus the Audis got separated from the Peugeots and an already difficult race seemed to have got worse for them. This went on for a while as Mansell was extracted from the car by the medical staff and it was nearly 4.30 before racing recommenced.

The Boy and I decide to take a wander down to Tetre Rouge, the last corner before the cars hit the Hunaudieres (or Mulsanne) straight - once nearly 4 miles long before the introduction of two chicanes designed to slow the frightening top speeds of 250mph. This part of the circuit has been completely reprofiled since our last visit, and the row of allotments where locals offered you a barbecue and beer has sadly been replaced by a grass viewing bank.

In the absence of a view, we made our way back to the bottom of the Esses, where we watched the plunge down from the Dunlop bridge. For the potential marathon runner, the rises up to the bridge provide the only significant hill on the course. In the late evening sunshine, it was a great spot to watch some racing before heading back to the car park to cook some steaks before returning to our grandstand to enjoy some night racing.

One of the great things about the 24 heures is the night racing and  as the temperatures are cooler, the lap times are often faster. By now, the fact that there are two distinct words in "endurance racing" was becoming obvious. One of the super-fast Peugeots had dropped out with suspension failure and as we watched above the pit, a second, the #1, was wheeled back into the garage for a major fix - reappearing 12 minutes later and 3 laps down. Being directly above the pits we can get a feel for the ebb and flow of competition as cars come in. Eventually we decide that we've had enough for one day and we retreat to the car for some sleep.

Up early on Sunday, bacon cooked, and onto the free shuttle bus out to Arnage and Indianapolis corners at the far end of the circuit. My first time out here, and it has a much different feel from the area around the pits. Much quieter and with people somehow trying to kip in sleeping bags on the grass no more than 10 yards from the passing cars. Just as we headed out, the leading Peugeot expired with an engine failure whilst a lap ahead, leaving the Audis to inherit positions one and two

Peugeot could have consolidated a podium position for #1, but decided to go for it. This brought some great excitement for a few hours, as it hunted down the leading Audis at 5-10 seconds a lap, unlapping itself from the leader and then closing up to the tail of the second place car. Sadly, just after a pit stop, the #1 also blew its engine, leaving an Audi clean sweep. Or so it seemed. The Oreca #4 car, also running a Peugeot was closing fast on the third place Audi of Alan McNish and Le Mans legend Tom Kristensen. There was still some racing to be had. But then, unbelievably, the Oreca also suffered an engine failure when only 20 seconds behind.

And so, 90 minutes from the end, the racing was over and it was down to the Audis to coast to the end for a formation finish. It seemed harsh on Peugeot to not get a car home, but that's endurance racing - you need to get your cars to the finish and Peugeot didn't. As always, every car that makes it to the finish has achieved something big, and the emotions of those who failed were clear. After looking like we were in for a good morning's racing, the end was almost an anti-climax for the crowd and as the Audi's rolled over the line at 3pm, there seemed to be plenty of spaces in the tribunes - ours was certainly no more than 80% full.

Of the rest, the Gulf-liveried Aston Martin's were definitely the best looking and best sounding cars out there, with a proper high-rev petrol engine's scream. Unfortunately #009 blew it's engine while running 4th in the last hour whilst #007 lost 20+ laps with a major problem overnight. In the other categories (there are 4 at Le Mans, 2 for Prototypes, 2 for more standard GT cars) there was much tighter competition, although oddly the new regulations for the GT1 category meant that these supposedly more powerful cars managed to finish behind their less powerful GT2 cousins.

We decided that as we were heading back to Amiens, an almost 3 hour journey, we wouldn't join the traditional invasion of the pit straight, but would leg it directly out of the circuit and head off. This was a good move as, 45 minutes after the chequered flag dropped, we'd cleared Le Mans and were on the peage north.

Oddly, every motorway bridge seemed to have a small group of people on it looking south. I know this part of northern France is pretty dull and featureless, but surely there's something better to do on a Sunday afternoon than stand and watch the cars go by. Then we saw a couple of Union Jacks and twigged. The locals come out to watch all the crazy Brits in their fancy cars blast back up to Calais.

So that was the first trip to Le Mans of the year. The preparation for the October visit starts here.