


steady run round parbold and harrock hill on the road.4 big hills plus many smaller ones,finished with the famous parbold hill.
felt stiff at first but started feeling better as i got tnto the run.started with the climb up stoney lane,this is very steep at the bottom and again near the top with a steady uphill in the middle.next i ran the road loop round to harrock hill,this is great fun a roller coaster ride up and down some gentle hills,i worked at maintaining my speed up each rise then flowing down hill picking up speed. i take a left turn and head up harrock hill a short steep climb up the tree lined lane.a very steep down hill follows and then i head onwards along a flatter road before turning onto jackson lane and the start of the infamous hunters hill, gentle climbing leads into a very steep second half of the climb,i work at maintaining a high knee lift and fast leg turn over.as i reach the summit i start to sprint over the crest to pick up maximum mountain points,this climb is used by many local cycle clubs for hill climb championships and the tour of lancs has come over this hill in the past,you can still see the white line painted on the road marking the top of the climb.i head back down stoney lane at speed then climb up parbold hill,the steepest part is in the middle just past the church,slowing down to 5 mph before i start picking up my speed as the hill easies towards the top,a final sprint and i reach the top.a quick glance at the panaonic views before a quick dash back down to the village. = 1.27
photo one; parbold hill; the long slog starts
photo two; almost at the top
run with niz in the evening,club run =44 mins
thur 17
leg speed session =37 mins
fri 18
easy run with niz over the sandhills, very mild today after the morning rain. felt good to be out.taking it easy because of the four villages half marathon on sunday.



"He still worked on the beach house. It was 26 miles up there, pretty well an exact marathon, and he ran up on a Saturday and back on the Sunday and worked on the house in between. He amazed runners who chanced to meet him on the return trip, just a few miles from home, because he was running harder than they wished to, and he was not virtually out on his feet thinking only about collapsing on his back steps and sliding into a bath – he was thinking about buying some ice cream from the dairy near to his house, to thin out and cool his blood, and he was debating what he was going to do after that. His friends enjoyed the joke, which he himself had offered, that he wasted so little time that he wrote out his training schedules in the toilet. Even they, after all this time, regarded him as something of a phenomenon with his apparently limitless drive and energy – the way he could work at the shoe factory, also by night on a milk round, and dig his garden furiously and build a cottage – and still train harder than anyone else. So, too, did anyone who ever knew him well; at school, in a Rugby team, in the shoe factory, in the running club. They knew him as an individual of exceptional drive and someone whom you never crossed, that if there was anything which really got Arthur Lydiard going it was being told that he would not be able to do what he was attempting, or that he did not have the ability, or he was going about it the wrong way…



