"Another leg of the grand prix series 2008 - with a twist! Nice weather!
For the 400-odd runners at this event, the long awaited sunshine was as welcome as a “trouser cough” in a space suit! Someone upstairs was obviously having a laugh!
As per usual, my day had started bad! I was feeling tired as I hadn’t slept well. I had gone to bed the night before on a full stomach, which gave me some weird dreams! One of which was a random dream about being a contestant on the old 1980’s T.V. game show Bullseye. Although it was more of a nightmare, as it had Jim Bowen and Tony “180” Green in it!
15 minutes until the start of the race and I was warming up.
The race commentator/blokey, who done a fantastic job by the way, played a collection of old musical classics, one being the actual theme tune from the magnificent 7! This helped to set the scene!
Like a flock of sea-gulls to a Cornish Pasty, we all touched down at the starting line. I wasn’t quite sure about where to place myself, as I couldn’t see any of the usual rabble. So I decided to stand in front of the guy, whose warm-up consisted of stripping down to his bare chest and downing a can of fosters! That’s dedication!
After a few words of wisdom from the race M.C. a count down from 5 and a toot on the horn, we were off!
 My strategy was to run at 95% of my maximum heart rate throughout the race (I read it in a magazine) in order to give myself the correct pace, regardless of what was going on around me! So, basically I had to keep my heart rate monitor reading 172 bpm. The start went well, but inside the first mile I reached a very steep hill. I managed to catch up with Terry from Hayle runners. Sadly at Launceston Terry and I were neck and neck, but due to unforeseen circumstances Terry managed to pass me and beat me by a few minutes. I started to jog up the hill, my heart rate went off the Richter scale! I decided to keep to my plan and I walked to the top. Terry followed suit and he too started walking. I know it sounds stupid to be walking at the start of a 7 mile race, but it worked! Everyone who shook their heads as they puffed, panted and slowly slogged it out past me, got to the top and slowed down. I got to the top and accelerated off overtaking the bunch who by now had what Chris Beresford refers to as “Disco knees”! I even managed to pull away from Terry. 
Did anyone say that walking wasn’t allowed?
The course itself consisted of hills, country lanes and an industrial estate, about as interesting as the autobiography of Gordon Brown, but the hot weather, as punishing as it was, somehow made it special!
I stayed focused during the middle of the race and found myself reeling in runners and gradually moving up places. As I approached the last 2 miles I knew it was all up hill. I started to have flashbacks of the huge hill at the Launceston half, it felt like make or break time! So I dug deep and managed to replace the bad thoughts of hills and Jim Bowen, with the thought of my crafty little hill climb at the start of the race. This, in turn gave me an all around sense of smugness that carried me through, reeling them in until the finish! And as quick as the race started, it was over! “Let’s see what bully’s prize board has for you tonight?  “A medal and a bag of Jelly beans, yippee!”
Terry from Hayle finished a couple of minutes behind me so I was “well chuffed!” I later spoke to Terry who said he’d gone to the toilet too early before the start and had a bladder the size of a Badger during the race, making it hard to run. However much of a nice chap he is, I’m sure he’ll be out for revenge at Indian Queens!
All in all, this race was far from my favourite, I even heard a few runners say they wouldn’t run it again. Perhaps it was because there wasn’t a Pasty at the end?
But as Arnie once said “I’ll be back!”
Well done, once again to all the Carnies who raced.
Thanks to Chris Beresford for the lift and thanks to the Tamar Trotters for putting on the event!"

and over to Marksey:

YET ANOTHER TRIUMPH FOR CAROLE!

This is becoming rather monotonous, but Carole “PROLIFIC” Drew ran yet another Age Group 3rd place
on Sunday ‘s Magnificent Seven GP race at Saltash. I wondered why they turned up in the motorhome instead of the Jag and now I know. The boot isn’t big enough for all the trophies!

Another early start on Sunday but who cares with a sunrise like that. Had had plenty of sleep the
evening before after taking the grandchildren to see WALL-E. Next marathon and its definitely a
Pixar movie the night before.
Dash off to Truro to pick up Mike Wright only to be hampered by the usual roadworks and trying to
find an open garage. Breeze through the maze that is Cathedral View and we’re off. I now know that
at the time Mike was hallucinating as he told us we would enjoy this race. If the BOA had tested him,
he would have rewritten the book.
Yes, that is a tractor in the middle of the Dobwalls roadworks and I think that set the pace for the rest
of the day. Quick coffee at the services and lets get parked up. Everyone from West Cornwall arrived
at the same time and the car park was full before you know it. “This is part of the route “ I was told
and thought that was “the ‘orrible ‘ill” at the finish. Now who’s on drugs?

Us Carnies decide to go Au Naturel and change outside on the grass as we don’t see the orange globe
in the sky often enough to warrant wasting it amongst sweaty jock straps and dim lighting. Wendy has left her vest in the car but Karen comes up trumps and saves me going back to the car and wasting all that energy that is probably still on a sun lounger in Tenerife.
A nice chap took a team photo for us but we seemed to be a couple missing somewhere so we
spread out a bit to look like a head count in Colditz. Pecking order was established at the start line
with the ladies grabbing pole position from the boys.

Of we go with the warning “don’t go too quick at the start” being totally ignored by 95% of the field.
Well that wasn’t too bad a start was it. Turn the corner and there it is, and how they got the tarmac
to stay on the road is beyond me. It should all have slipped to the bottom unless Cormac can defy
the laws of gravity.
Oh no, the other three Carn Horsemen I normally manage to stay with are pulling away or maybe
they are just shrinking? They must be as at 5 miles they’ve melted away completely. Just manage to
catch Howard from Hayle before the finish and scramble over the line in anew Kenyan record
for a half marathon and a steeplechase for good measure. Luckily for the ego, everyone else is complaining as well so the reason Beverly Knight wrote Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda is revealed. The holiday has taken its toll on Wendy as well although I think it Fairer to blames Karen’s vest.

At least the showers will be empty now and yes, I had a showerhead to myself, unfortunately I had
everyone elses surplus water on the floor. A quick chat with the winner (initials JC could mean JOIN CARN) and its back to the presentations. I think somebody should tell Tamar Trotters that they shouldn’t pinch the fruit bowls from Derriford Hospital as prizes but stick to the more traditional form of salute. Carole is having nothing of it until the big cheer goes up when her name is announced and we’re not going home empty handed after all.
Pat has invited us back for a roast lunch which is a far more civilised way of finishing the day than
a melted Mars bar.

Congratulations to TT for a very well organised race. Nice friendly marshals did at least block off some the other hills and the crowd in the streets were very supportive and the water stops very fluid if you pardon the pun.      Barry, you’ll have to build an extension soon!