The medal mix-up has been sorted. Apparently, halfway through the ‘handing out of water and medals’ at the end of the race, the second box of the first part of the interlocking medals was mislaid. Disgruntled runners like myself ended up instead with the (still very lovely but not interlocking) medal that will be given out to anyone only doing one of the series of races.
Relish Running posted on their Facebok page and website that they would exchange the medals for anyone who sent it back. I duly wrapped and posted mine back this week, and was very happy to recieve the correct medal this morning. It’s not that different to the incorect medal, but it now gives me the impetus to complete the rest of the series and complete my medal, even if that does mean running hilly trail races in December, January and February.
As an added bonus this morning, the photos from the event have been published. Not only did I manage to have a good photo with Sham Castle in the background (my eyes are open and I’m smiling), I even managed to have a photo of myself running with both feet in the air AT THE SAME TIME! Excellent!*
Look no strings!
* On looking at this foot again, I look like I’m about to do a perfectly executed heelstrike. I can only blame my uncomfortable clumpy trail shoes, concentrating desperately hard on not slipping over on the muddy downhill in front of the photographer.
After a new PB at Cricklade Half last month, I had a feeling my next race might be a new PW. It was the Bath Skyline 10K organised by Relish Racing. The first in a series of 4 races, a key selling point was the great medals – a set of 3 interlocking medals if you complete 3 races with a single extra medal if you only run one or as your final fourth medal.
Lovely interlocking medals
The race was supposed to be based at Bath University’s Sports Training Village. However due to last minute changes everything was down at the start line with only toilets available in the Sports Training Village. These changes were posted on Relish Racing’s website but nowhere else. There were people wandering around before the race who obviously didn’t know where they were going. Fortunately it’s easy enough to spot and follow other runners on occasions like this, and one family stopped me and asked if I knew where they could register. Maybe an email to all entrants would have been a good idea?
Down at the start we were told we were being split into two starts – men and then women, again at the request of the University. I could overhear groups of people who’d been planning on running together discussing this and they were obviously upset.
At five past eleven most of the men (and a few speedy women I think) set off and then about 10 minutes later a whistle blew and the rest of us set off. Well, the people at the front set off, the rest of us shuffled forward slowly towards the start line, shuffled slowly over the start line, and finally managed to slowly start to jog. This first part was really congested as there were several hundred runners all trying to run along a very narrow path. We all came to a halt as the route took a sharp right turn after a bridge, and as we entered the woods we stopped and queued at every steep section up and down, at every muddy section and at every narrow section.
Things only really improved on the second lap when the runners had spread out. Then I had a chance to run at my own pace and yes, I confess, I did still walk up the steep climbs in the woods but I did my best impression of a mountain goat on the steep descents. I also had a chance for a better look at my surroundings.
For a race called “The Bath Skyline 10K” I had been hoping for glorious views down over the city of Bath. What we actually got was the back of the University accommodation blocks (concrete), followed by some woods (nice), the edge of the golf course (bemused golfers), and finally a section with a view as we ran past Sham Castle (great but would be even better if it wasn’t foggy).
I was pleased with my own running as I managed to push on where there was space, and ran all of the slopes (apart from the really steep bits in the woods) including both accents of the long steady slope up from Sham Castle. I passed several people here so I’m sure the hill training I’ve been doing paid off.
I headed for the finish line, pleased with how I’d run and keen to get my hands on the first medal of the series. I crossed the line and – oh look – a queue. I could see the Race HQ tent ahead so I was confident I’d soon get some water and my medal. After waiting and shuffling forward, more waiting and more shuffling I reached the tent only to discover that the queue actually made a U-turn, doubled back on itself, and then made another U-turn before finally reaching the promised land of the tent. It took at least 20 minutes to get to the front of the queue and finally grab a cup of water and a couple of slices of orange. I was then told they had run out of the first medal in the series, confusingly given another medal and a chocolate bar, and told they’d post the proper medal out later. I was really cold and fed up by this point as my warm top was back in the car and I’d been waiting all this time just in sweaty running clothes.
Lovely medal. Shame it’s the wrong one
As I quickly walked back to my car I was feeling quite disgruntled about the whole race. I rang my daughter because I was now going to be late collecting her from a friend’s house, and when she asked how it had gone I told her I’d have to have a think about it..
So after a couple of glasses of wine on Sunday night and several days to think about it, I’m finally feeling slightly mellower about the race. The shuffling and waiting on lap one meant I actually managed to run negative splits over the two laps of the course (by nearly 3 minutes) – something I’ve never managed before. Parts of the route were lovely, and I’ve never raced on such steep hills before so I did feel pretty hardcore (for me!) The atmosphere was good with plenty of smiling faces and encouraging marshals. I believe the problems could be solved fairly easily with a few little tweaks to the organisation of the race. I’ve made my suggestions below:-
1. E-mail any last minute changes of venue, registration and start details so runners can make the appropriate arrangements before they arrive.
2. If you aren’t allowing people to register on the day then you know exactly how many runners there could be, and therefore how many medals to bring.
3. If you separate out bag reclaim from the finish line funnel of water /chocolate /medal collection then runners will be able to clear the area more quickly and won’t be stood waiting for over 20 minutes for a drink of water.
4. Chip timing is really reasonable nowadays, and would mean runners could start off in more and smaller waves whilst still recording an accurate race time. This would help reduce the queueing on the first lap resulting in a smoother race all round. The problem of running negative splits I’d have to solve on my own!
Having already entered all four races in the series, with my mellower head on I think I’m looking forward to the next race next month. I’m interested to see what the ‘B’ course is like (apparently it’s harder than the ‘A’ course we ran on Sunday). It will be interesting to see if the organisation is any better by then. Watch this space …
The morning of the Cricklade half marathon, 2014. A lack of pre-race nerves meant minimal pre-race “night before” preparation, which led to me dashing around the kitchen on Sunday morning, eating porridge with one hand whilst grabbing drinks and snacks with the other. The half full box of gels I’d been saving turned out to be mostly out of date, but the two I’d managed to salvage had completely disappeared overnight. As a last resort I grabbed the remains of a bag of Veggie Percy Pigs as I shot out of the house.
Veggie Percy Pigs
Cricklade is a very pretty little town that I hadn’t visited before, and although I parked about fifteen minutes walk away from the race HQ I simply followed the other runners to find it. (Runners are easy to spot on race day). At the start I was spotted by a good friend of mine who was doing the 10K. It was lovely to have a hug and a ‘good luck’ when I’d travelled there on my own. I lined up by the start, and by the time I’d contemplated how adrenaline stops you feeling cold when you’re dressed in shorts and t-shirt in 7 degrees centigrade, we were off.
For a small half marathon it wasn’t surprising that the roads weren’t closed. What was surprising was how busy it was. Runners, cyclists, horses as well cars made for an interesting route. The 10K runners set off after the half marathoners, so we had a stream of faster runners passing us. Although distracting, it did mean I got to see my friend again and have another quick word.
The course was an out-and-back route with a couple of loops but despite this it wasn’t dull. We got to see the leaders heading back whilst we were still plodding out, and we got to run between the lakes of the Cotswold Water Park as well as through pretty villages and under autumnal trees. The water stations were at interesting places, coming add they did at 1.5 miles, 5.5 miles, 7.5 miles, 10.5 miles and then 11.5 miles. I knew I would need water to wash my Percy Pigs down, so from the 5.5 mile stop onwards as soon as I saw a sign saying ‘Drinks Ahead’ I grabbed a couple of Percies from my pocket, stuffed them in my mouth and chewed frantically whilst taking a cup of water. The disadvantage to eating sweets was that I really needed the water as my mouth felt so sticky, but sugar obviously helped because I was feeling strong, and only felt tired coming up to mile 9, a distance that I always struggle at. A good talking to myself soon sorted that out.
Woo hoo!
As I was finally heading back to Cricklade I could see the church spire above the trees and houses and I could feel it calling me to the finish. The slight incline up the High Street felt like an enormous hill coming as it did in the last mile, but really it was the only slope on the course. I knew my time was good, but I was amazed when I stopped my Garmin and saw 2:09:31.
I had finally beaten my PB from last year’s Devizes Half and taken 3 minutes and 33 seconds off my time.
Bling!Yes please!
As I slowly walked around the field at the finish line to stretch my legs I confess I had a little tear in my eye. I blinked hard, looked up, and saw a small plane performing acrobatics over my head.
Thanks for the celebration, and a huge “Well done” to me AND to Percy Pig!
It had been another beautiful day, and the weather was just perfect for racing in the evening. After last week’s 10K disappointment I felt like everything was riding on tonight’s 5K. No pressure then.
I wrote last year’s time and pace onto my hand, put my running kit on, cooked dinner for my children, raced around looking for car parking money and shot out of the door with about 45 minutes before the start time. Fortunately I don’t live far from Chippenham, and even more fortunately as I crawled around the packed car park I managed to nab a space. I bumped into a good friend at the start, so was feeling in high spirits.
The Start
From the off all went well. I survived the usual crush at the start, I kept an eye on my pace to keep it close to last year’s. I overtook when I could (not easy on this course) and tried not to hold anyone up when I could hear them coming up behind me. I crossed the line and my Garmin said 26:47. Checking my smudged hand, last years time was 26:46 – so close! I was aware that in non-chip timed races it’s vitally important to keep in the same order in the finish ‘funnel’ as you crossed the line in. Just after I’d crossed the line, two guys were racing hard over the line, and shot past me. I got one of them to move behind me in the funnel but I wasn’t 100% certain that the other chap had crossed after me so I left him where he was.
Provisional results were out the next day, and gave me a time of 26:49 – 3 seconds slower than last year. I was a little disappointed, but to be honest I still felt very happy with my race as I’d run the best I could on the night. To be that close to last year’s time (when I had trained really well for it) was actually pretty amazing. Looking closely at the time of the chap recorded as finishing in front of me (in case he had ‘pinched’ my place) then my time would have been 26:48 – shaving a whole extra second off.
I uploaded my data to Strava and was pleased to see some good results on segments on the route. Various friends gave me kudos and one (who had also run this race last year and this) made a very interesting observation. He pointed out that the course we ran this year was actually slightly longer than last year. On coming off the riverside path last year we cut straight up onto the road whereas this year we ran a little longer by the river before angling up to the road. For last year’s race my Garmin recorded 3.09 miles, whereas this year’s was 3:11. Now, here comes the data wrangling bit! If I look at this year’s data and stop it at 3:09 miles, it gives me a time of 26:40 Woot woot!!
Anyway, even without funnel line pushers-in, and slightly longer routes, I am very pleased with this year’s time. Even with my data wrangling I can’t really claim it as a new PB but I am still very pleased with my time and not at all disappointed.
I received proof positive that I’d worked really hard in the race when I returned home. My teenaged daughter proclaimed that I ‘stank’ and I was leaving a ‘trail of stink’ as I walked around the house. Lovely!
A race report shouldn’t start with feelings of disappointment, should it? Shouldn’t end with those feelings, either so I’ll do my best.
A time of 56:39 for a 10K shouldn’t be a disappointment, even if you were hoping for faster, and even hoping to beat last year’s time of 55:20. In this race in 2012 I was delighted to get 59:26 which was my first ‘road’ 10K that was below one hour.
The disappointment is not just because of my time. The race was going well, I started off too fast (doesn’t everyone?!), so slowed myself down, then realised I’d slowed down too much and had to speed up again. This meant overtaking the couple who had just passed me. Sorry – I know how annoying that is. Kept it nice and steady, but with enough effort to know that I was pushing it (it was a race, after all). In the back of my mind I knew that after we passed Great Chalfield Manor (very pretty) at 8K the route then went up a long steady slope. Not steep, but a drag at the end of a race when I was planning on using this stored energy to power up the hill and overtake people on the way up (I can dream).
Just after Great Chalfield Manor however, I got a stitch. In fact not a stitch, but the worst stitch in the history of stitches stitch. I felt like I was being stabbed in the side. I tried my breathing exercises, my ‘pushing-a-fist-into-my-side’ trick and even the ‘arm-in-the-air-looking-like-I’m-asking-for-help’ but nothing helped. As the two ladies behind me overtook me, I slowed to a walk and felt like crying. I walked, breathed on alternate sides, pushed in with my fist and finally felt able to run again – just as the slope started. I felt sluggish and it was slow, hard work but I made it up that slope, and even managed a sprint finish.
Lovely Mr B&T had cycled over to be at the Finish line, and I’m afraid I wasn’t very cheery as I was just so disappointed.
Just see how happy I look
Later on I sat, clean and dry after a lovely shower, with a plate of lasagne, a glass of red wine and a medal around my neck and tried to think of what I’d learnt from this race.
I learnt a 10K is hard if you haven’t run much over 4 miles for the last couple of weeks. Any race is tough going when you’ve not slept properly all week. And lasagne, red wine and a medal make many things much better.
So now I’m feeling more positive, does anyone have any foolproof ways to sort out an awful stitch mid-race?
So a race that took me several times longer to get dressed for than to actually run it. A race that I was more nervous about what I, and everybody else, would be wearing than usual. A race where the safety briefing ends with “and may the Force be with you. 3 2 1 GO!”
Yes it was May the Fourth, and it was the Sci-fi 5k. Fortunately the race didn’t start until 11.30am so I had plenty of time to get ready. A whole packet of hair pins, a can of hair spray and my carefully made costume later, I dragged my photographer (teenaged son) out with me and off we went. I suddenly realised as I was driving that I was getting some funny looks from drivers in other cars, but maybe they didn’t realise Princess Leia drove a large muddy Toyota.
We reached the car park, and I was expecting to see streams of runners in fancy dress heading to Race HQ. No, only families going to the park. Just as I was silently wondering if I’d come to the right place and at the right time, my normally unflappable son asked if we’d come on the right day. “Well, what’s the date?” I asked him. “May the Fourth!” he replied, smiling.
Race HQ was in a Wetherspoon’s pub and add I collected my number I was assured there were other people in costume. As we moved outside to the start area, in the park, we did finally see another couple of Leias, a rebel pilot, Obi Wan Kenobi (who seemed to have come in his dressing gown), and someone that I though was Captain Jack from Doctor Who & Torchwood, but who apparently was Han Solo.
Exterminate! Photo – John SidawayHan Solo, Obi Wan and a Rebel Pilot. Photo by John SidawayPrincess Leia – me! – at the start
As we set off, the weather had warmed up and It was beautifully sunny. I was already feeling warm in my long sleeved top and long skirt, but I kept thinking I couldn’t be as hot as the Dalek!
The course wound through some housing estates and then back through some parkland. It was all pretty flat and on another day, in a galaxy far, far away, in another outfit this would be a great PB race. I ran with a lady in a red Star Trek dress for a while and we consoled each other about running in a dress.
Photo by Warren WadePhoto by John Sidaway
My blaster hand was sticky and slippy now and I was seriously considering ditching it. However my son had had his eye on it so I tried passing it from hand to hand just for a change.
Eventually we headed back into the park and could hear people applauding and see the finish line. I looked out for my son, the official photographer, but couldn’t see him anywhere. I received my medal and a bottle of water and found a shady area by a tree to wait for him. He sauntered over 5 minutes later having waited back at the car and underestimating how long it would take him to walk back. Sigh. Fortunately there were plenty of other people with cameras who then shared their photos on Facebook. Thanks John and Warren.
At the End. Still holding that blaster!
I almost forgot to mention the race super was Darth Vader. Well if he was behind me, I’d run too!
It was a good race, the organisers had obviously enjoyed branding it as a ‘Sci fi’ 5k, the weather was beautiful and the support was great. It was just a shame there were so few people in costume. My only regret (and I feel a little grumpy saying this) was that I didn’t win the award for the best fancy dress. I know it was for fun, and that as long as I was happy with my outfit that’s what matters. but I really would have liked to win!
“You get a medal just for running FIVE miles?” spluttered my husband, as he staggered in after cycling 103 miles (minus a medal). However he had had beans on toast, tea and cake provided at his event so I don’t know why he was moaning, really. The five miles in question, were the “Fearless 5” race which was part of the “Flying Monk” race, held at Charlton Park near Malmesbury, Wiltshire. It was an off road course, around fields, tracks, woods and parts of the estate. It was beautiful, the sun was shining, runners and marshalls were smiling, and yet despite the weather we’d still been promised some mud. The muddy sections had been conveniently named and signposted so we’d know when we were approaching them. These had names like “Boggy Bottom”, “Abbot’s Aisle”, “Monastery Mile”, “Friar’s Frolic” and ”Monk’s Mayhem”. Setting off one chap charged forward like a canonball being fired, pulling faces for his family, whilst the rest of us slotted in behind and tried to find a good pace whilst running in single file around the edge of a field. Mile one was spent just marvelling at this fantastic sport, where you can spend Sunday morning in the company of like-minded souls, feeling your body working as it should, in the sunshine, in the countryside.
Happy
Track followed field, and woods followed field. As we came up to the first swamp (“Boggy Bottom” I believe) I could see canonball man flailing around, swearing loudly, having left a trainer behind in the mud. I tip-toped through the mud and left him to it – the sheer volume of his swearing told me he was fine. This unsporting moment was unfortunately captured by the race photographer:-
At least I didn’t run, cartoon-style, over his back to avoid the mud
By mile two I was feeling very glad that I’d entered the “Fearless 5” (which was one lap of the course) rather than the full “Flying Monk 10” (two laps). By mile three I was wondering where the water station was – this race was warm! By mile four I was thinking if they’d had a quarter-length distance (the ‘Nervous Nun’?) I should have entered that. Just as I was thinking of giving running up as it was all too hard, we came round a field and I could hear the P.A. system at the finish line. I overtook one last runner, and was then in turn overtaken by someone else in the usual finish line sprint tit-for-tat. Finished! Medal, cup of water and orange in sweaty hand and suddenly I loved running again. My trainers bore witness to the boggy bits I’d encountered, and scratches on my leg and arm proved I’d found some brambles as well.
Watch out washing machine, here I come
I was mightily pleased with my Garmin time of 48:08, and amazed when the official results were out. I was 6th Woman home, and 3rd in my Age Category! I had another chance to wear the beautiful badge my daughter made for me after my Parkrun debut.
3rd in Age Category
I loved this race, and there was just one thing that bothered me about it. Why was it so poorly attended? Only 51 runners in the Fearless 5, and about the same in the Flying Monk 10. I’m guessing so many runners are nearing the end of their marathon training about now and they simply daren’t go to an off road race for fear of getting injured. However, although muddy in places, this course was pretty gentle. No killer hills, just a few inclines (although I do confess I walked up one slope through a wooded section because it was muddy, slippy and I was knackered). The shorter distance was in no way treated as a lesser race than the full 10 miles, and the great organisation and friendly marshalls would make it a perfect introduction to running and racing off-tarmac. There. Rant over. Might just go and polish my medal again.
(Cue Claire Balding)
“It’s a cold morning here at Sandown Park as the runners gather by the paddock, ready for the off. Breath steaming in the autumn air, manes being tossed excitedly, and fetlocks a-quiver in anticipation of the race ahead. Everyone looks in fine form, although they seem to have forgotten their horses …”
I am always amazed at the places that running takes me, from knee-high mud in the back of beyond, to pounding the streets of our capital city. I have run around a motor racing circuit, but never before around a horse racing course. On 24th November 2013, at the Running Show 10K Race at Sandown park that was all about to change.
I knew we wouldn’t be actually running on the race course itself (those jumps look big!) We would be running a two lap race, each of which wound its way around various buildings, then ran alongside the race course. A lycra-clad cyclist (demonstrating an impressive power stance) made sure we made a u-turn around a strategically placed bin and headed back the way we’d just come. Being nosy I love seeing ‘behind the scenes’ of, well anywhere really, so I really enjoyed spotting all stables, the yards and especially the horse showers as we ran. Running on the narrow paths, whilst keeping to one side to leave room for the faster (or slower) runners going in the opposite direction meant it wasn’t easy to overtake on this course. However the surprising amount of uphill meant this was never going to be a PB course for me anyway. The knowledge of what happens to race horses who fall was enough to keep everyone trotting along fairly smartly.
After my second lap I puffed and panted my way over the line, received my medal and a cup of water, and then made my second amazing discovery of the day.* Fruit flavoured coconut water is disgusting and should be avoided at all costs. Bet if they gave that to the horses they’d spit it out as well.
*First was that horses had showers. Who’d have thought it?
A cold, misty, drizzly, Autumn Sunday morning – what better than to get up early for a race? A 10K race (a distance I’ve not run for a few months) with the chance to meet up with some online friends from Runner’s World. It was one of those complicated mornings – daughter staying in London for the weekend, husband already out cycling in Somerset, and son to be dropped off at grandparents. I hadn’t registered for the race, but the instructions said you could sign up on the day by 10.45, with the race starting at 11.
10 o’clock saw me throwing my son out of the car at my parents’ house (because we were already running a bit late), belatedly followed by me sneaking in to use their loo (race day morning – I don’t need to say any more). Then a quick read of the directions to the race HQ and I was off again. Although the race is called ‘Swindon 10K’ its actually in Wroughton – a few miles south of Swindon, at the edge of a disused airfield. I always feel anxious heading off to new places, and instructions like “don’t use a sat nav because our postcode will take you to the wrong side of the airfield” don’t help.
Driving through North Wiltshire following the directions all was going well until the HQ (a large ex-aircraft hangar) came into sight – just beyond a large queue of cars waiting to park. As I crawled forward I was trying not to clock watch as I knew time was tight. At a quarter to eleven, I was still queuing to park and desperately trying not to imagine being told I was too late to register. I was finally directed to a lumpy bit of grass to park on, grabbed my pre-filled form and cheque and sprinted inside the hangar. Fortunately I was still allowed to register, and holding onto my race number I shot back outside to find the loos.
Between queuing for a portaloo and walking to the start I’d managed to meet up with all of my online friends. We all agreed that far from being a small race like we’d expected, there were over 500 runners and it was busy. One friend, Yvonne, said she was hoping to beat 55 minutes, which was my target as well, so we lined up together. Before I’d left that morning I’d scrawled my last 10K PB time and pace onto my hand so I could keep an eye on it as I ran.
High Tech previous PB and pace reminder
The man with the megaphone summoned us all to the start, explained how we had to complete a short turn round the car park, then two laps of a bigger loop (turning left at the end of loop 1, and right at the end of loop 2 to head for the finish line), then a sprint for the finish. These race instructions always sound complicated but I always have plenty of runners to follow so I don’t worry about it. The race wasn’t chip timed, so although we didn’t hear a starting whistle, air horn or even someone shouting “GO!” we just started shuffling forward when everyone else did, and started our Garmins as we crossed the line.
The first little loop was quite narrrow, and we found ourseves running slower than the pace on my hand. With some “excuse me!”s and some wriggling we found ourselves some space to run. Running the main loop for the first time it was discouraging to see a “3K” marker, swiftly followed by a “7K” marker, and knowing we had all this to run again. My friend was running strongly, and it was only at this point that she told me that although she wanted a sub 55 time, in her recent half marathons (4 in 4 weeks!) she’d been passing the 10K point at around 53 minutes. Our pace was around 8:30 minutes per mile (and faster) and I was starting to wonder if I could keep that pace up.
I took my mind off it by looking around me. Part of the route was a fairly busy road, with cars trying to overtake us whilst dodging vehicles coming the other way. Not quite the quiet country lanes we’d been promised. We turned off from this road after a kilometre or two and then we were on smaller lanes. Much more peaceful, but the misty drizzle meant it was hard to take in any views. I bet its isolated up there in the midst of Winter!
The 5K mark had a water station, and much like in the Devizes Half this was in a muddy farmyard, but the water was still very welcome. At this point I realised we were running at faster than my 5K PB pace, and I was starting to feel a stitch after glugging some cold water. I told Yvonne to push on ahead as I had to slow down a little.
I watched as she pulled ahead but tried to make sure I kept my pace up. At the end of the first loop we approached a large sign telling us to turn left for the second loop. This time around passing the “3K” marker I felt smug as the “7K” marker was the important one here. Off the busier road again and onto the narrow lane I could tell there was a very slight incline this time. My legs were feeling heavy and I was paying for my fast start.
A few runners passed me at this point which is always disheartening, but I also passed a some runners which made me feel better. The kilometres passed quickly and soon I reached the 9K mark, by the water station. “Time to turn it up!” I thought. Sadly, my legs were pretending they couldn’t hear me and carried on at the same pace. I could see the final turn in the course ahead leading onto the last hundred metres or so to the finish, and I did manage a short sprint finish. Well, it felt like a sprint finish to me – I expect it didn’t look like one (other than in a ‘bionic woman slo-mo” style). I was so greatful to cross the line I almost missed collecting my medal, which would have been a shame as its a great medal.
Loving how the female runner is ahead of the man…
I caught up with Yvonne at the end. I’d been abale to see her all the way around but couldn’t catch her. She was pleased with a new PB, and I checked my watch to discover I also had my new PB – of 54:02. If I’d known I was so close to sub-54 I’d have persuaded my legs to find an extra 3 seconds!
I finally met up with the rest of my friends to find the two other PB hunters were happy as well, including my friend Mel who managed his first ever sub-60 10K. Whoo ho! He beat the 10K PB he’s had for a few years since we last ran a 10K together and he beat me on the final straight.
Often at races I’ve not even finished when they have the prize presentations. The once or twice I have been, not many people have hung around. Fair enough when you’re getting cold and wet at the end of a race. At the Swindon 10k they had a great way to ensure as many people as possible stayed for the prize giving. They had two vouchers for running shoes from a local running shop and they chose the winners by a draw of race numbers. If they pulled your number and you weren’t there, you missed out. It was exciting, but sadly neither I nor my friends won anything. However as they presented the age-related prizes, Mel realised that he only needs to stick to his current pace for another 9 years and he could win the over 70’s prize!
Flushed with success after another PB I belatedly drove back to my parents for a roast dinner. It was delicious and highly recommended as recovery fuel. After having to stay for the prize giving I was late getting there so didn’t have time for a shower before lunch. Bless my parents who said they didn’t mind, and just sat me nearest the open kitchen door 🙂
So after last Sunday’s mud and bull filled Marshfield Mudlark, I’d been presuming that this weekend’s half marathon would be a straightforward road race. Starting and finishing in the small Wiltshire market town of Devizes, the route quickly heads out into the surrounding countryside. The elevation profile showed 4 hills, rave reports from last year had moaned about the hills, but after my extensive hill training for Marshfield (cough cough) I thought I’d be okay.
Race day dawned grey and damp. I was thankful to wake up from a dream about the race where I got lost in the town centre, so decided to pop into some public toilets, and when I came out the town was deserted, with no marshals or signs to be seen anywhere. Hoping it wasn’t a prophetic dream I set off in good time, managed to park just across the road from the start area and joined a very short queue for the portaloos. All was looking good so far. I managed to meet up with two online friends from Runner’s World (that I’ve met a couple of times before), and we shivered and chatted before we were summoned to the start line, half an hour before the race started. This was the perfect time for the heavens to open and the rain to start falling.
My friends were both aiming for sub 2 hours, whereas I was hoping to get somewhere close to my Chippenham time of 2:13:35, so I was aware that as we got closer to the start time I’d need to shuffle backwards. We couldn’t hear any of the pre-race briefing, we couldn’t see the Mayor who was supposed to be starting the race, but we did suddenly hear an air horn and felt everyone start moving forwards. Whoops – no time to head for the back, I just had to start running. We crossed the start line – surprisingly with no chip timing mat – started our Garmins, and we were off.
My friends disappeared off and I struggled to stick to my 10 minutes per mile planned pace. Runners streamed past me, as I was that annoying person who gets in the way by starting too far forward. As I’m used to starting at the back this was a depressing experience that I won’t be repeating. I was aware I was going off too fast, but decided the first hill would slow me down. The rain carried on falling as we headed out of Devizes on a main road. We headed up the hill, which wasn’t as steep as I’d thought it would be, but it did carry on around a corner which was too much for some people who started walking. The wind and rain was battering down on us now, but at least climbing the hill helped warm me up.
The views from the top of the hill would have been amazing if it hadn’t been smothered in cloud. I did see three White Horses (I think it was actually 2 Horses from three different angles), and we ran through some very pretty villages. Unfortunately the rain was getting heavier, and at one point it felt like hailstones. The side of the road that we were running along gave up being ‘full of puddles’ and moved into ‘small continuous stream’. One house we went past had two canoes outside – it was very tempting…
The rest of the race went swimmingly (sorry). I had a gel at four miles, just before the water stop, and planned to have another at mile 10. I only usually take one gel in a race but thought I’d try two and see if it helped with my stamina towards the end of the race. The next couple of hills were okay, I was soaked to the skin and my legs were feeling stiff. I really wasn’t feeling the love for running at this point, but knew the only way to keep warm was to carry on running.
The Mile 7 ‘Heart FM Cheer Point’ did make me smile. It was in a farmyard, with a Heart FM car with the radio turned up, a man with cups of water and a lady with a large foam hand and a tray of jelly babies. Very Wiltshire!
Eventually I reached mile 10 and took my second gel. Only a 5k to go. Mile 11 – less than one of my ‘short’ runs. One more water station, a sharp turn off the road onto a gravelly track and the last hill. Oh boy -they saved the best till last! This was a steep hill, made worse by the fact it now had a stream running down it making it slippy and very loose underfoot. I started off running but when the lady just in front of me started walking then of course my legs automatically started walking as well. At least there was a steep downhill on the otherside which gave me the impetus to carry on to the finish.
As I came back onto the field, which we had to run around to get to the finish line, suddenly I heard shouting and clapping. My friends had waited and were cheering me over the line. It gave me enough of a mental push to put in a sprint finish. I crossed the line, according to my Garmin, in 2:13:05, another PB by 30 seconds.
Although I was pleased that my friends had waited in the rain for me, I was even more impressed with the marshals who stood out there, in the rain, for hours and hours. They were all smiling and encouraging, and they made a huge difference. Thank you, Marshals, and thank you Devizes. I may well be back next year… as long as my trainers have dried out.
