Summer Training Camp
The C.U.H&H September Training Camp 2010 – Ilfracombe, Devon
Hint: For those who want to read about the drunken antics skip straight to Thursday night
Sunday 19th September
A group of 25 haries descended on the sleepy, unsuspecting coastal town of Ilfracombe. How that would change.
A short run and a visit to a local pub saw some runners take a small, but key lead in the 100-point challenge. A healthy evening meal was then obtained through the form of the neighbouring chippy and MOTD2 provided the perfect accompaniment to a relatively relaxed first evening.
As a group we contained some familiar faces (with Grandma Keen on Training Camp number 8) but it was also great to see an abundance of Training Camp virgins and 4 freshers (we welcomed in Tom Dobra, Paul Hodgson, Tamsin Owen and Hannah Williams to the C.U.H.H. family).
Monday 20th saw the start of a massively animalistic week for many (the fact that we were within easy reach a swimming pool, top-class surfing location, pubs and a nightclub meant this was by no means restricted to running!). Special mention should go to James Gill, Tamsin, Paul and Hannah who achieved the swim, surf, run triple (and repeated this on later days!) and to Rachel Kitchen for a day of hefty mileage on difficult terrain.
After successfully negotiating the mammoth Tesco shop (with the confused checkout girl asking "Is this all for you") Dinner was provided in the form of a hearty spagbol. "A quiet night in" followed with entertainment provided in the form of Dr Gill's empires and The Hangover on DVD. It was here that we learnt of Sam Smith's first memory and Ed's desire to be a black man. The session the next day clearly didn't deter many from racing through the point's challenge and it was great to see some cracking quotes being churned out at a similar rate to the beer vanishing from the fridge.
Tuesday 21st
The 11am start time for the session (8 x 3 mins at Ilfracombe Rugby Club) provided the much appreciated opportunity to have either a light breakfast, lie-in, or gentle jog to sober up from the previous evening. In spite of a heavy night for many it was great to see everyone hitting the reps hard and heading into term in good shape. Having replenished some calories through lunch we all headed off to Woolacombe beach for various instalments of fun. There were the usual clan making the most of the surf, a few who braved the sea without a wet suit and the foolish who thought a game of tag-rugby would be the perfect way to recover from a hard session. Matt Burke quickly set about proving this a bad idea, skinning everyone in his path and providing Captain Grant with some sore hip-flexors for the rest of the week. An enjoyable evening was then had relaxing at the hostel, feasting on rice, chicken and crumble while many of us slowly, but surely continued to accumulate the points.
Wednesday 22nd
A relaxed day where many people just chilled and did their own thing, the calm before the storm perhaps? Those that were awake at a sociable hour either got in a good pool workout or made the most of the glorious weather with a similarly lung-busting coast path run (learning about 200m vertical ascents the hard way!) . Following a lunchtime siesta the majority of us headed back to Woolacombe for some beach time. A large group of us decided to part with the cars and run there. A 9-mile epic was completed over leg-sapping terrain was promptly completed. A smaller group of us opted for a shorter beach run where Sam "Club Bitch" Ashcroft showed off his camel-like qualities in the sand and left all others trailing in his wake. Unfortunately the weather scuppered our plans somewhat at this point, though it didn't deter our hard-core group of surfers from spending yet more hours in the Bristol Channel! Cold and wet the Paella served up for dinner was doubly appreciated.
Thursday 23rd
Thursday morning saw the departure of Calum "Not so healthy and safe" Kinloch who had unfortunately been bed-bound most of the trip (better luck next time Calum!). We also waved bye-bye to Andy Thornback who headed off to undertake a Mountain marathon. I'm sure that the plethora undulating running on offer would have provided ample preparation for this.
Captain Grant then dished out a short, sharp hill session at one of the local fields. Ed "Black Man" Lee-Six should be particularly grateful the camp wasn't held in the North, wearing pink compression socks and living to tell the tale might not have been such a formality up there. Despite the difficulty of the session it was great to see some top quality running, particularly bearing in mind the massive training volume that had been put through the legs at this point. In spite of being extremely tired and feeling the effects of the week some animals even managed to pluck up the courage to undertake a 2nd or 3rd run of the day!
Thursday night traditionally sees "Crazy Night" and this year was to be no exception. Previous editions have included pints of vodka, wheelie bin racing, strip bop-it and urinating yourself in a car park. What would this year hold?
Having kicked off the evening with the respective captains of C.U.H.H. and the Alverstones serving up the unbeatable recovery meal of Kebab and Chips things seemed to be proceeding in a calm, enough manner......until the blackcurrant ran out. Unable to carry on serving snakebites Mackay and Keen discover red wine makes a perfectly viable substitute and the night takes a turn for the worse. With pennies readily emerging from pockets fresher Paul undertakes the 1st dirty pint and is then noticeably quieter for the rest of the evening. By the time a game of arrogance has been initiated the critical point had clearly been exceeded and a civilised evening could not be salvaged. Adam Bennett loses out big time and after downing a saucepan full of lager, wine and cider produces the first vom of the week. Bored of arrogance, a congregation of haries departed the youth hostel to "tear up Ilfracombe", with the club's secretary making a pit-stop in some bushes to chunder.
Gutted that the town's only nightclub didn't open on a Thursday night we settled for the next best thing, a lock-in at a local pub. With one anonymous member of the club spending £48 in the space of an hour there was never going to be a shortage of alcohol (given also that Holly "the Beaver" Weaver's flirting with the local old men was ensuring herself a steady supply of drink). After Alex Berman had found "a tramp who's quite good on the piano" the outgoing memory of the lock-in was one of mental dancing to the tune of "American Pie" with our new found pianist friend.
Eventually at 2am (not bad for a Thursday night huh?) the landlord had had enough and evicted us onto the streets of Ilfracombe. It was from here on in that the shit really hit the fan. Chettle obviously Keen for a hole-in-one departs for a late night round of crazy golf with Polly, while Declan and the Beaver decide to go on a little coast-path walk. After fresher Tamsin, stubs a toe-nail and is badly injured it is left for Jon "Seriously guys" Undy to try to provide some law and order. After Jundy has calmed things down enough to get Tamsin back to the hostel he promptly goes and wakes up the club hero, Dr Gill seeing it as a full-blown medical emergency. Thanks to Dr Gill's heroics I'm pleased to report that Tasmin lived happily ever after.
From nowhere Keen, Chettle and Weaver (the latter spends the rest of the night with her head in a bucket) re-appear but Declan is still missing in action. Grant and Mackay's subsequent expedition "to find the bugger" lasted the grand total of 20 yards when they decided it was cold and couldn't be arsed.
With Grant, Weaver and Murray safely asleep on the hostel's sofa's (all each clutching a bucket) at 4.45am you'd have been forgiven for thinking the worst had passed.....It hadn't
Friday 24th
The scene at 9am the next morning was like something reminiscent of The Hangover. The 3 who didn't make it upstairs the previous evening were still laid there groaning, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. The mystery wasn't made any when a Policewoman turned up to explain that the Beaver's bag had ended up 15 miles down the road at Barnstaple police station.
At 9am the club secretary was all rearing to go with an important phone call to his supervisor concerning his grant application (a.k.a. still passed out in bed). He eventually rose half an hour later, still claiming to be drunk, and made everyone some sobering coffee so the mystery of what happened to Weaver's bag could be solved.
It took till 12pm before Will, Matt G, Tom Dobra and Matt Burke could summon up the courage to clear the air with a gentle run. Just thinking about Andy Collier's 17 mile epic after Lunch was enough to make many feel sick. With the afternoon turned into a bit of a write-off the evening was spent recovering, relaxing and dining on chilli and crumble. Entertainment was provided in the form of a quiz where knowledge of beer slogans and a former Women's Captain's lingerie were crucial to gaining a high score.
Saturday 25th
Grateful for a slightly better night's sleep we headed over to Woolacombe for a tempo run on the beach. Post-session activities included surfing, an ice-bath in the sea, visiting the chip van and trying to teach Jundy to catch (for the record we were unsuccessful). Upon returning it was decided that any good Training Camp needs more than one "Crazy Night" so a Centurion was initiated. With beer stocks running low during the 60s and 70s Chettle took on the role of club bitch in the absence on Ashcroft and heroically returned just in time so that the challenge could continue.
With the challenge successfully completed (by Keen, Murray and Mackay) we headed over to the pub for the traditional meal out on Training Camp. Revived with some good pub food and with a second "Crazy Night" well under way it was decided to check out Whisper's the town's nightclub (meeting the Street Pastors for a brief chat on the way). Several hours of showing Ilfracombe what it was all about surely provided the perfect warm-up for Cindies in a weeks time and an awesome end to an awesome week.
Sunday 26th
While Mackay and Chettle departed on an epic long run to clear the air, the remaining Training Campers helped with the massive clean-up operation. As the morning wore on people gradually disappeared and said their farewells before lunchtime, sad to see the back of an awesome week, but looking forward to a good long sleep and eager to return to Cambridge to get started with another cracking term.
In spite of the fantastic training towards the stationary element of the chunder mile I must stress there was some really high-quality running that took place (Dave Bedford would have been proud!) and I can honestly say that many of us look well on the road to having fantastic seasons. I hope sure hope Oxford are ready for us!
Finally I'd like to thank everyone for coming and making Training Camp as awesome as it always is, but in particular to James Chettle for organising everything and making sure everything ran so smoothly.
The John Redshaw Quotes Section
"My first memory was a dream" Sam Smith
"Could all the black runners move over to the side" Chariots of Fire Announcer
"I like it hard" Holly Weaver
"I don't want a Hare and Hounds baby" As rumours emerge that a 3-month old kid called Dolly may make a Training Camp debut next year Sam Smith is clearly thrilled at the prospect of babysitting.
"Tasmin let's get you to bed" A giggling Jon Undy
"If in doubt get it out" Matt Grant
"Never judge a man by the size of his broccoli" James Chettle
Mackay to Polly "Polly are you playing with yourself?"
Polly replies "No I'm playing with Chettle's thingy"
"I can cut up humans" Alex Bell
"Snow penises are so much better than sand penises" James Chettle. If my grammar is incorrect I apologise. Matt Grant and Ed Lee-Six did have a rather lengthy conversation about the correct plural form of this noun, so if in doubt ask them.
"I'm not an idiot" Paul Hodgson to Sam Smith. Yet another fresher that talks out of his arse?
"Did anyone see that little kid playing with my cock" James Chettle. I wasn't there so couldn't tell you....
"I don't care if women are lesser than men, as long as women have the right to work" Keen trying hard to dispel accusations she wants to be a man.
"I kind of regret not bring any underwear to training camp" Ed-Lee Six provides the ultimate excuse to wear Polly's pink compression socks.
"Oh just leave him out there. He's a dickhead and I don't care if he gets hypothermia". Captain Grant gives up the search for Declan Murray, missing after Thursday's night's escapades (last seen lying down on Ilfracombe High Street playing a harmonica).
"I don't think they transplant cocks" Declan
"Nelson Mandela looks like a pint of Guinness" Mackay
"I want to be a black man" Ed Lee-Six
"Does a Miss Holly Weaver live here" Policewoman that turned up on the Friday morning.
Some Awards to give out....
The Dickhead award for being a Dickhead: Declan Murray (Because the captain's word is final)
The Brunning-Richardson award for endeavouring to break the age rule: Holly Weaver
The Trinity Mathmo Award for inability to think rationally in desperate times: Jon Undy
Club Hero: Dr Gill
The "Bryan Habana eat your heart out" award for being embarrassingly good at touch rugby: Matt Burke
Best Chunder: Could be one of many people (to be honest I lost count). If you're one of them give yourself a pat on the back
Hot Fresher: Ask Polly. She's good at ranking......apparently
The Si Gilbert award for skill (if that's the right word) at Arrogance: Adam Bennett
The Tim Pattison award for running a stupidly long way: Andy Collier for his 2.5 hour, mountain goat-esque effort on the Friday.