Let’s start at the very beginning………

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I am often asked how I started running. I would like to be able to answer that I started to get fit or even with ambitions to run in the Olympics, but the truth is I was always late for School and finished up running the mile or so to St-Georges, from Mereside where I lived. Somebody saw me running to School and I finished up in the annual cross country race which I won much to every one’s amazement including myself. Prior to this I had shown no sporting prowess whatsoever and was never selected for teams in any sport. To this day I am a one sport person.

After leaving school I did nothing of a sporting nature until I mentioned one day at work that I used to run at school, and Ray Wilson, who was a sprinter with Blackpool & Fylde A.C., asked me if I would be interested in joining. I agreed to give it a go. So, that is how I came to be standing on the start line of the Egerton Relay near Bolton, a skinny 17 year old wearing a pair of shorts, pumps and a recently purchased tangerine vest, it was 3pm on a Saturday afternoon and the date was April17th 1967. The race consisted of four legs of 3.5 miles and I was on leg one. The gun went and we were off 73 of us, for the first mile, mostly downhill I could see the leaders, then reality took over and people started passing me until by the end of my leg I had slumped to 67^th in a time of 22:47. My introduction to racing had been tough but in a funny sort of way I had enjoyed it.

I then competed on the track doing 1 mile and 2 mile races in the latter reducing my PB from11:21 to 10:26 in the space of four weeks.

Then came my first individual Road Race and amazingly it was one of the few races that survive to the present day the Freckleton Half Marathon.

When I first tackled the Freckleton Half Marathon nearly 39 years ago it was held on a Saturday evening at 6-30pm, and was organised by Peter Knott who has been running even longer than I have.

In the 2005 version of the race there were 375 finishers, back in 1967 just 59 hardy men, [ladies were not allowed to run until1977], faced the starter. The race started with two and a half laps of the grass track then out onto the roads of Freckleton, Wrea Green, Lytham and Warton on a warm June evening.

At the half-way point around Moss-Side Hospital I was beginning to realise that 13 miles 192.5 yards was a long way to run without the proper training. I began to wonder if I would ever see the finish again; at about 9 miles I turned onto the 4 mile finishing straight, and staggered onto the water station outside B.A.C. Warton. In the 2005 race the runners had the luxury of four water stations during the race, back in 67 the A.A.A rules were different water was not allowed until after 10 miles, giving water before that point could lead to disqualification for artificial assistance, [Health and Safety hadn’t been invented]. After a water break I carried on as best I could until the outskirts of Freckleton were reached, I realised I was going to finish. Finally I reached Bush Lane playing fields and after another 1 and a half laps of the grass track my pain racked body was finally allowed to stop. I had taken 1:29:55 for my first and still slowest half-marathon. I then uttered that immortal phrase, “Never again!”

The race was won by Martin Craven, [Kendal] in 1:07:35, 38 years later it was won in a time over 5 minutes slower.

Finally a thought for all of you training for a spring marathon from American coach Hal Higdon. The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over hot coals.

Written by: Anorak Man

Submitted: 9^th February 2006

Edited by: Brenda J Earnshaw WRR Website/Magazine Editor