Emmet report

Truro Half Marathon, 18 September 2011

There was a stranger in our midst on Sunday.  He was wearing race number 095 and was from way over the Tamar in deepest darkest…England (*spits in disgust!*). He claims to belong to a club called Chippenham Harriers, in somewhere called ‘Wiltshire’ (‘eard of it av e?, sommat a do wiv white horses innit?).  Well, im been an wrote us a report. Not bad. For an emmet…

Truro Half Marathon, by Kevin Wright

I took part in the Truro half marathon at the weekend, a bit far for many of you I know, but as I have family in Truro I was able to make a weekend of it. The race itself has been held for a good few years now, and this year they changed the start to improve the course. (allegedly)
I must admit I did feel a tad apprehensive about running this race for although I was born and brought up in Truro, I moved away in my mid-twenties, and after all this time, it was obvious that I would now be regarded as an outsider – i.e. an emmet. I feared this could lead to some unpleasantness particularly from fellow competitors, not to mention marshalls and supporters.

On the other hand though, running in a Chippenham Harriers vest did have its advantages, as anyone from Cornwall will tell you that any visitor from “upcountry” marks them out as an expert in their field. This in itself should be worth 50 or so places, or so I thought, as I inspected the trophies on display with more than the customary passing interest.

I was also keen to see how a “proper” half-marathon should be organised after the previous week’s “near-carnage” in Wiltshire. Here there would be no forced smiles, no saying “Well done, your running brilliantly!” without really meaning it, Oh no! this would be your traditional honest half marathon, where gnarled old cornish marshalls would greet anyone coming from “upcountry” with cries of “ Why don’t you bxxxr off back to Wiltshire, bloody emmet,” and what’s more they would mean it.

As runners assembled at the start in a large marquee on the piazza, the sky turned black as night and the heavens opened. Fortunately the rain cleared away before the early 9.30 am start, and before you could say Ted Tuckerman, we were off along the cobbled streets and around the town for the first mile or so, taking in the cathedral, and then quite unexpectedly to most, following the dual carriageway before heading out of town. Surprisingly this little detour didn’t seem to bother anyone. I suppose because this was Cornwall after all, and we all knew we would all get there “dreckly”, i.e. no need to panic.

The route took us in the general direction of the former refuse tip at Newham, (incidentally this was where my mate Paul once got stuck in the mud whilst digging for bait, and had to be rescued by men with rope and sheets of corrugated iron. All this whilst the tide was coming in, and sea-gulls were circling overhead like vultures..) and then onto a cycle track made somewhat “gloopy” from the recent rain. After 2 miles we turned off the track onto a quiet road section that led to a steep climb for a good half-mile towards the village of Playing Place. After another couple of miles or so we headed down into Carnon Downs, and on into Devoran following the the Fal estuary. This was the most scenic part of the race with good views of the estuary and cries of wading birds could be heard in the distance. I’m sure I heard a curlew. In fact I’m certain of it.

Leaving the estuary we then climbed another steep hill up towards the village of Feock. I don’t know why, but for some reason I suddenly remembered an old gf from Feock way back when “Can’t get by without you” was first in the charts. Sadly, she could, and that was that. It was at this point my Garmin died. See that’s how tough this race was! – even the Garmin didn’t make it.
The route then followed an uphill back towards Playing Place, before descending down the first steep hill and back onto the cycle track before finishing outside M&S. (A shameless ploy to attract more female runners imo)

There was enthusiastic support for all runners it seemed at the finish, despite my earlier misgivings. In fact the support was very good all around the course, and all in all in was a pretty decent show.

I then went to collect my kit at the secure baggage area where the storage system was evidently in need of a thorough overhaul. “Number 95 please” I shouted to the guy on the lorry, “Nah, can’t see that here, sorry!” came the reply. I stood there nonplussed for several minutes whilst other runners came and collected their bags. Oh well that’s that then, I thought to myself, some holidaymaker (emmet) must have made off with my bag. At least that could be the only possible explanation – according to my dear mum, who firmly believes all crime in Cornwall is completely eradicated between the months of September and May. Some 20 minutes later I decided to give it another go and asked the guy if he had located the bag. The good news was that he had. Obviously the holidaymaker had had second thoughts and decided to do the decent thing.

On a personal note I was pleased with my run, although not a PB (1.38 and a bit) but it was hilly (and windy) and I probably did an extra 0.2 miles at the start. I’d like to think I will return to do this again for a good few years yet.

Kevin.

Thanks very much for such a great report Kevin, I’m sure we’ll let you back next year – and we might even let you bring some friends!!!

Stephie