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Race Report – Worksop Halloween Half Marathon – Sunday 28th October 2018

The training run following the Great Eastern Run two weeks prior to Worksop very nearly spelled disaster! Leading a Grantham Running Club evening run, I was paying more attention to keeping pace with my watch and chatting to friends then looking at what was heading towards me. I saw the railings protecting a pedestrian crossing too late to avert hitting them full on and with unabated speed (Around 8-9 mph). I missed squashing the boys in the barrack by about a centimetre, instead the pubic bone took the full brunt of the blow. A bit stunned it took a minute or two to regain composure. Sensing nothing was broken but plenty was very sore I continued the run, hoping to run off the injury. Nothing seemed totally amiss but things became increasingly painful in the right hip and thigh, and the left knee (which I think took a glancing blow) as I ran the six miles or so back to the Meres Leisure Centre.

A few minutes inactivity stiffened things up considerably. Thankfully one of the runners offered me a lift home rather than having to run another two miles; he had done something very similar on a identical set of railing some weeks earlier so could empathise with my discomfort.

When I woke the next morning I knew running was out of the question for a few days. The inflammation meant I could lift my leg more than a few inches. Luckily I was able to cycle with a minimum of discomfort and took solace in Zwift for a few days, testing the leg with a brick mile on the Friday with no ill effects.

The next day however and I was pretty sure I was feeling ill with something, a suspected chest infection was the reason why a reasonably routine 10 mile run on the Saturday felt like a slog and a 12 mile run the next day felt particularly arduous. The family and I were heading to Carsington Water on the Monday, I felt too lethargic to consider running. On the Tuesday I forced myself out for a lap of the man-made lake. The eight mile loop was particularly undulating but the return of the quad cramps early on in the run, becoming too severe to run by the end, were surely a sign of feeling unwell rather than unfit. I took the Wednesday off to allow me to run around the water again (this time in a clockwise direction) on Thursday morning before we left back for home). The relatively laboured pace (7:19 per mile) was exactly the same as Tuesday’s; the cramps coming on again but this time less intensely.

Friday saw a 10K effort which, to paraphrase my Strava entry, would have been easy were I not feeling so wheezy. I took Saturday off with the half on the Sunday in mind. Working on the Mexican Grand Prix meant working some late evenings, although the clocks going back on the Saturday night meant I could enjoy a fairly fully night’s sleep. Before drifting off I sensed as if the malaise that had enveloped the body for the past week may just have left the building.

I woke on Sunday morning just after 6 am and made myself breakfast, experimenting with peanut butter and banana on toast after the bad experience with cereal and milk at Peterborough. I left not long after 7 for the 50 minute or so journey to Worksop, finding the same car park I found 12 months earlier and enjoying the same 10 minute walk to the start venue that served to loosen the legs a touch.

I was happy to see on arriving that the race organisers Worksop Harriers AC had clearly listened to some of the criticisms of the race village setup and acted on them in an almost wholly positive manner. The school that they used had been converted into a one way system to avoid all the bottlenecks and congestion with number collection and baggage drop that delayed the start of the 2017 race. In particular the baggage had been moved outside and streamlined and this did wonders in minimising the congestion as best you can with around 2000 runners confined in a relatively small space.

I changed slowly into my running kit at the tables in the canteen, stretched, dropped off my bag and headed for a warm up of just over 1.5 miles. It was an unspectacular warm up – the legs felt okay, I was coughing a fair amount but didn’t feel any of the wheeziness or lethargy of previous runs in the week. Off the back of this I decided that for the race I would take a cautious approach, not going off too hard and seeing how I felt as the race progressed.

Warm up done and with 40 minutes to the start I made one last trip to the toilet which is the only area where I still feel this race could improve, there not being anywhere near enough toilets (But then again I would levee this criticism at almost every race). I ended up using the ones in the men’s changing rooms, queuing for around 10 minutes, which wasn’t too bad. Slowly exiting the school building, I lined up at the start with ten minutes to go and thanked the weather gods that the temperatures were perfect for racing. Indeed, aside from a breeze that was on the moderate side of gentle, the conditions were nigh on perfect with weak autumn sunshine and temperatures around 10 Celsius.

We had a minute’s silence before the start of the race, if memory serves me correctly, for a former chairman (perhaps President) of Worksop Harriers who had recently passed away. After a short countdown we were off. I made a comfortable start, not feeling particularly good for the first mile and sitting well outside the top 20 as we soon hit the first climb less than a mile into the race. I really took it easy up here, the effort made less hard by the steady breeze blowing into our backs.

Mile 1 was clocked at 6:01, which was five seconds down on my opening mile in 2017. The rest of the opening 5k is on the undulating B6034 taking us towards Clumber Park. Mile 2 was 5:51 which was six second slower than in 2017 but mile 3 saw me begin to come to life, 5:36 pretty quick, even if it was wind aided, and three seconds quicker than 2017.

Mile 4 saw us turn left off the main road and head through Carburton. I was beginning to pick off runners now, only in ones and twos as the field was pretty well spread. 5:39 for mile 4 matched my 2017 split. Mile 5 is mostly uphill and was possibly the hardest mile of the race – 6:00 one whole second slower than in 2017. Mile 6 is the first half of the fish as it appears on the Strava map and inevitable Strava segment. This mile saw me tuck in behind a runner for most of this section – the scenery stunning in autumn as we headed into the heart of Clumber Park, the going underfoot a little tricky in places with significant leaf fall.

5:45 for mile six was three seconds slower than a year earlier but I remember feeling particularly good at this stage back then. Mile 7 has the first of two long uphill drags – I felt sorry for the wheelchair competitor I passed who was really struggling at this stage. 5:55 was six seconds slower than in 2017, but I turned things around in mile 8, which was again mostly uphill, 6:02 was four seconds up on 2017 and I passed two or three more runners in this section.

Mile 9 is my favourite of the race, mostly downhill and as we approach a totally unnecessary sponge station (surely an in house joke from the organisers?!) we are bombarded with a plethora of amusing signs, many of them fresh for 2018 and indicative of the clear love and passion that the organisers have for putting on a really good race. As in 2017 I found myself feeling really strong, my 5:36 mile just one second down. Mile 10 had the last real hill of the race and as such I slowed to 6:00 (matching the 2017 mile) but was still catching and passing runners. It was here I saw in the distance the distinctive tri-suit of a runner that looked familiar. Approaching him I realised it was Tom Marshall, the triathlete who had beaten me in September’s Stathern Duathlon.

Catching and passing him gave me renewed enthusiasm, as did my watch which was predicting a finishing time very similar to what I achieved in 2017. Considering I had felt so poor in the build up was greatly encouraging and, feeling relaxed and pain free, I pushed on. Mile 11 was 5:42, five seconds quicker than 2017, mile 12 through Worksop College was three seconds slower at 5:49 but I was running now into a headwind which we didn’t have twelve months ago. This made the slight uphill drag out of the college particularly tough, but I had time to make things look easier for the Mick Hall photographer who I knew would be in the same spot as in previous years.

Mile 13 – Mick Hall Photography in the usual spot!

The thirteenth and final mile is mostly downhill, albeit tempered with a headwind this time around, which made 5:34 four seconds slower than in 2017. Turning the corner into the Outwood Academy Portland and sprinting to the finish I knew from my watch it was going to be a very similar time to last year. I finished matching my time of 2017 to the second, the official results gave it as one second quicker in 1:16:23, the difference being this year my Garmin measured the course 0.05 mile shorter and so the final yards took 23 seconds less.

Whereas in 2017 I finished fifth overall I knew this year I hadn’t done quite so well. The results were not long in being published and I was eleventh and not first V40, despite just about bettering my 2017 time. I was partly relieved as I didn’t feel obliged to hang around for the presentations and after seeing a few club mates after they finished, I headed home to begin work on the Mexican GP.

It wasn’t until a day or two later I realised that, such is the generosity of the race organisers, they offer prizes for the first three in the younger veterans’ categories. I was third V40 and, a couple of weeks later, I received a Lincolnshire Runner voucher in the post for £20, which is £5 more than they had quoted in the prize list, which just about summed the race up!

Shy of a few toilets I cannot praise this race enough. They had worked really hard to iron out the issues pre and post race. They worked really well: I had goose bumps as I received warm applause as I walked through the gymnasium to collect my goodie bag, and t-shirt to add to the funky Halloween themed medal I had already received. The good weather helped, but standing around at the finish with cake stalls, coffee stands, music from the local radio station, gave the impression that this was a race put on by professionals rather than a large number of volunteers. I have heard they make very little money out of the race, which makes it all the more praiseworthy. It is one of the cheapest half marathons in the region, and certainly one of the best.

I didn’t have too long to recover for it was the Leeds Abbey Dash 10K in just seven days time!

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Perkins Great Eastern Run – Sunday 14th October 2018

I left Peterborough at around midday on Sunday 14th October and drove home, cold wet and pretty miserable, caring for little other than a warm shower and to try and move on from what had just taken place over the past one hour and fifteen minutes or so. I should have been close to euphoric. I’d just my second fastest ever half marathon (fastest if you go by what Power of 10 reckons I’ve raced…) and claimed my best ever age grade race result by pretty much one whole percent yet all I could think about was what could and should have been the best race of my life.

The Perkins Great Eastern Run (GER) had been my target race for the autumn pretty much as soon as I’d self inflicted a prolonged summer break from racing with injury at the Woodhall Spa 10K. This half marathon in Peterborough has a reputation for being the fastest in the region; what it lacks in beautiful scenery and rolling countryside it makes up in near pancake flat roads as it takes you through a sometimes dizzying tour out of central Peterborough and to the outskirts of the north of the city and back.

The summer holiday 21 10 mile+ runs had seen me in great shape and ever since I’d clocked a surprise 17:00 at Belton House parkrun it had been a case of trying to just do enough training to prolong the form. As the race approached I felt perhaps I’d lost perhaps just the tiniest amount of pace (Not helped by some tough weekends of F1 work) but still in decent enough shape to be looking to at least crack 75 minutes at the GER and hopefully beat my HM PB (set at Grunty Fen) of 1:14:46.

Given that 2018 has been undoubtedly the year of racing (or not being able to race) in extreme weather conditions, it should have come as no surprise that the GER would be struck with some pretty inclement conditions. Driving down the A1 not long after 7am with the rain battering my windscreen did not fill my heart with joy, especially as the forecast had predicted this weather and was very confident indeed that it would remain wet, at times very wet, all through the morning and well into the early afternoon.

Some people would rejoice at some conditions – the rain after all does do a great job in keeping the body cool so if you are a runner prone to overheating then if you can live with the discomfort of being wet then these conditions could be seen as close to ideal. The wind, although not still and at times noticeable in the race, was barely a factor and the official temperature was 14C, although it was most likely around 10C when the rain fell at its strongest.

History has suggested that I don’t race that well in very wet conditions. I don’t necessarily mind running in the rain – a bit of light drizzle is perfect in my eyes (not literally though, that is a bit of a nightmare). It’s when I am racing and I am struggling to stay warm in heavy rain that I feel I am losing out to the weather, especially when it is cold. The worst case was the Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon of 2017, so cold and wet it was that my quads all but locked and led to me now always racing in my compression shorts. Even the race I won in the rain (the Stilton Stumble 10K) I suffered badly from quad cramps, and it actually stopped raining not long after the start.

I arrived at the race venue two hours ahead of the race start. The car parks were already starting to fill. I had a little panic over which car park I was allowed to be in having booked it online. I don’t think it made a difference but the little panic as I moved car parks hoping I wouldn’t violate obscure T&Cs kept my mind occupied for longer than it should have. Walking to the the race village it soon became clear that the race wasn’t really geared up for preparations in heavy rain. There were no official changing facilities, people huddled under any place they could. I, and many others, sought sanctuary in the information tent, where far too many people in too small a space tried to keep warm and / or get changed into their race kit.

Kit changed and the first trip to the portaloos done, I returned to the car to sit around for a bit. I hadn’t seen any of the 40+ Grantham Running Club members taking part in the race, I can only assume that they, like me, and many others, were waiting in their cars until the last possible minute before making their way to the start or a queue for the toilets.

An hour before the start I went for a one and a half mile warm up which did little to warm me up, especially when I was soaked to the bone by a large car that went through a very large puddle at undiminished speed, putting my already questionable mood into a state of near gutter level gloom – gutters that were struggling to contain the volume of water that was falling. Back at the car I stripped out of the soaked tracksuit bottoms and top, deciding as it was still not actually that cold to go with the GRC T-shirt, rather than long-sleeved top, and gloves. I also opted to keep on the racing cap I’d worn during the warm up. The last time I race in this I think it was the last really warm London Marathon (Not this year’s the one before, years ago). I think it was a smart move, although I did struggle to keep it on at times!

I returned to the race village and queued again for the portaloos, shivering quite uncontrollably, spending longer on the toilet than I needed to just because it was somewhere warmer and drier. I then returned to the car (again!) as I’d decided that the gloves I was wearing, now soaked as though they had been in a washing machine that had forgotten to spin, were as useless at keeping my hands warm as no gloves at all. The car park was now fairly flooded, I made my way carefully to avoid the worst of the puddles, which was fairly pointless really as my trainers were already saturated.

I made one very last trip to the toilets, making my way to the start line around ten minutes before the start. I got myself pretty close to the front, not with the elites, who had their own pen to warm up in, but up and close with runners who looked pretty serious in their club vests and very flat racing flats. Me in my Hokas, t-shirt, shivering uncontrollably, could not have looked more out of place, frankly.

Five minutes before the off we were walked to the start line, trying our best to skirt the small pool that covered the road. The start should have been at 10:30 but it was delayed by five interminably long minutes as I assume they were ensuring the roads were closed and cleared. I seem to recall some small talk with a fellow runner who also appeared to be suffering a bit with the cold. I think we said the usual cliche of we’ll soon warm up once we get running, before we were finally called to our starting orders.

I think I made a terrible start, one of the worst I’ve made in recent years. It was terrible in that it was tardy, very slow to pick up the pace, feeling so cold and stiff, then having to work really hard to get into a decent rhythm. Looking back with the benefit of a few weeks’ hindsight, it may have actually been quite a good start, easing myself gently into the race rather than trying to hit race pace from the off. The mile split was 5:48, but given that I was well over six minute mile pace for the opening minute or two it showed I had to run a fair bit quicker than that in the latter part of the mile to bring the split time down.

Mile two was a little better (5:44), but still the HR struggled to get up to what I’d expect it to in a half marathon. I did though benefit from some advice to hug the inside of the road on a never ending left hand bend around Central Park, which saved me several seconds over those who were taking the go-kart line (that’s the outside of the bend) perhaps because it was so wet and rainy.  Mile three I began to get into the race. I’d got into a group of around eight runners, one of whom (Portuguese I think) was keen to get a rapport going between the runners, very eager to have the pack share the pace making, but annoyingly appearing to slow down in front of me when he took the pace.

Mile three was 5:35 and I felt warmed up and ready to race. Not enjoying tripping over the runners in front of me, as we hit a little rise crossing over the A47 (probably the biggest climb in the race), I pushed on the pace to see who would go with me.  Around four did, none of whom were willing to help share the pace. So, having run a 5:34 mile four I deliberately eased up to force someone else to take the pace on. This they did and for another mile or so I continued to run well, strangely enjoying the numerous twists and turns as we ran from one housing development to another.

Mile 5 was 5:39, mile 6 slowed to 5:47, but it was the most uphill mile of the race (Barely uphill though to be honest) and I recall we faced the worst of the headwind as we went along the seemingly never ending Lincoln Road, with the rain falling heavier than ever. As we went through halfway I seem to recall the official clock had us going through just ahead of schedule to break 75 minutes, but a few moments later a runner I was with asked me the question ‘are we on to break 75 minutes?’ My watch (Again running the awesome Peter’s Race Pacer app) said we were due to finish in 1:15:20.

He seemed to heed this warning for as we turned right into David’s Lane (Which felt more like a footpath, covered with fallen leaves) he pushed on the pace a touch, taking with him most of the remainder of the group (including the Portuguese runner). Had I been in a more fighting mood I think I would have gone with them. But I was cold. I was wet. I was looking at my heart rate. The average had barely gone above 168, which is right at the lower end of what I’d expect in a half marathon. It was beginning to drop. Mile 7 averaged 166, then miles 8 through to 12 averaged 165. That’s my marathon heart rate. I can only assume that the cold weather was seeing my body divert resources from the act of running fast to the act of trying to keep warm. As the rain continued to fall hard, there was little I could do but try as best I could and ignore the fact that I was feeling really cold, my trainers were dying, and I was still on target to finish just outside 75 minutes.

Mile 7 was 5:41, miles 8 and 9 5:37 and 5:42. In hindsight these aren’t bad miles but I felt like I should have been running quicker. By now I was more or less running alone, just one guy who I traded places with on a few occasions without actually helping pace one another, who I remember because he was wearing a lurid fluro pink t-shirt for a charity which appeared to have a lot of local support.

Mile 10 was 5:44, mile 11 5:43 – it was here we ran back on the roads we went out on at miles 3 and 4 although I can’t say I really recognised them – there are very few memorable features on this course. The only reason I knew we had run on them was because there were backmarkers heading in the opposite direction, culminating with the sweep vehicles, one of whom almost literally did sweep me up as I took a right hand turn into the path of a street cleaning vehicle.

It was at around this stage that I caught what I believe is the second placed woman, who I quickly made the effort to pass and pull clear of, not because I have any sense of needing to beat a female, but because she had an awkward running style that appeared to have her knees twisting at all sorts of funny angles and given that I’m pretty screamish about knees, I knew I couldn’t stick behind her.

With her passed I set about making it to the finish, constantly looking at my watch which resolutely predicted that I was going to finish in 1:15:20. Mile 12 was 5:40, the final mile appeared to last an eternity as we sploshed through near flooded roads. I latched onto the back of a runner who, wearing a black and white striped vest, I assumed, wrongly, ran for Shaftsbury Barnet Harriers (The colours of the pacers at the London Marathon). He carried me from mile 12 almost to the end, except he was able to put a sprint on from the 400 meters to go sign and I simply wasn’t able to, the problems this time were feet that were beginning to go numb from the cold and a stomach that really didn’t like the cereal that for some unfathomable reason (I have a bad history with cereal and racing) I’d decided to have for breakfast.

I crossed the line in 1:15:17, I made three seconds up on the time my watch had predicted I would finish in since halfway. I must have been annoyed/cold as I totally forgot to stop my watch for around half a minute after I crossed the finish line – the first time I can ever recall doing this (It’s an action more autonomous than breathing). Annoyingly the Portuguese runner crossed the finish line in 1:14:57, I think all the other runners I was with at halfway broke 75 minutes – if only I’d just been able to keep with them at mile 7. I think I would have stayed with them to the end.

I picked up my medal, bag, and other bits and bobs then hot-footed it as quick as possible to the nearest portaloo. From there it was straight to the car and home. I had left before 1:24 finishers had crossed the finish line. I felt bad that I wasn’t around to cheer home the 35+ GRC runners, but I was very cold, very miserable, and wasn’t willing to stand around in the rain for a second longer than I had to. I think I made the right choice to head home – my lips were still purple two hours after I had got home….

A few weeks to reflect has eased the disappointment a touch, but I am still full of what if?  and if only? The fact it was my highest ever age grade (83.92%) eased the disappointment a little but if I’d run what I think I was capable of I think 85% was on the cards. It was my second quickest half marathon but I’ve waited years to be able to run the quickest half in the region and I am still a bit gutted that I couldn’t quite perform to the level I think I was at, possibly because, once again in 2018, the weather has consigned to be against me.

I didn’t have too long to feel down because my next race was in two weeks time – and it was one of my favourites!

 

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Race Report – Stathern Duathlon – Sunday 23rd September 2018

After the Two Counties Half Marathon success I didn’t do a whole load of running – I picked up a few niggles and opted mostly for the safer world of cycling on Zwift, which served a twin purpose as I was set to take part in my first and only Duathlon of the year at Stathern on September 23rd. This was originally scheduled for March but was postponed when Beast from the East II struck the area and made it impossible to run, let alone cycle on most of the local roads.

I went into the race reckoning I had a chance of doing fairly well but knowing that I was a little lacking of Duathlon specific training i.e. I’d done nowhere near as many post ride brick runs as I have done in the past few years. I was looking to rely on my running strength as I reckoned my cycling was a bit down on my best, particularly as I’d not done a whole lot of cycling since the end of July.

(L to R): me with Adam Madge before the start of the race.
Picture c/o race organisers.

The hours before the race were fairly low key and thankfully stress free – my mind wandered back to the Rockingham Duathlon the previous year and the dramas with the punctured wheel shortly before the off. I was one of the first to arrive and rack the bike, I went on a two mile warm up which served to get an idea of the run leg. We then had the pre event brief, a final chance to visit the toilet and before we knew it it was ten am and time to race.

Me and Adam Madge on the start line before the start.
Picture c/o race organisers.

I didn’t know many of the field at Stathern – Adam Madge was a familiar face and at his best someone who could beat me, but his running is not at it’s best this year due to injury, although he is flying on his bike. I recognised a few cyclists trying their luck at Duathlon, mostly finding that running is harder than it looks!

The start (L to R): Tom Marshall; Adam Madge; Me; and third placed Richard Marshall.
Picture c/o race organisers.

From the off for the opening 5K run leg and it was swift, mostly because it was ever so slightly downhill. I sat in fifth before slowly moving to the front of the field to take the lead at around 2/3s mile.

Leading the race just over a mile in on the opening run leg. Race winner tom Marshall chases in second.
Picture c/o race organisers.

I felt good going through the first mile in 5:29, working hard on the quiet country lane to the turn around point, where I would get to gauge the competition. I kept the effort fairly high, running at around 10K HR, the second mile 5:40 and the third mile 5:46 as I began to prepare myself for the run and slowed a touch as we went slightly uphill.

Leading the race just under two miles in on the opening run leg. Race winner tom Marshall chases in second.
Picture c/o race organisers.

My ‘5K’ split was 17:05, but we ran only three miles so it was more like 17:30 – good but not amazing. Transition went fairly smoothly. Mindful of the trouble I had at Rockngham trying to get my feet into the shoes once on the bike, I opted to put shoes on at transition and run in them. This may have cost me a couple of seconds (At 53 seconds it was actually one of the quicker transitions) but 1. it kept my feet dry on the wet grass and 2. It took the stress out of a tricky manoeuvre made doubly so by the tight corner out of transition.

I reckoned I had a 30 second lead as I left transition. I had begun to get a little warm wearing a tri suit with thermal top, temperatures only around 10C, but this soon became feeling very comfortable as the bike ride commenced. The bike leg was just under 11.5 miles, the hardest bit coming right at the start with the ascent of Stathern Hill, which was easier on the road bike with clip on tri bars (I was one of the very few riders to use a disc wheel) that I was forced into using now that my TT bike has been written off. My legs felt fine up the hill, my bigger concern was the Garmin bike unit resolutely refusing to recognise any of my Ant+ devices, meaning the only data I had was GPS speed, distance, and average speed. Having got used to riding to power and always relying on my HR to gauge effort, this came as something of a major distraction and didn’t help my cause. At least my GPS watch was recording the data for me to look at after, although during the ride the information was not available.

Leading the bike leg race at Belvoir Castle with traffic to contend.
Picture c/o race organisers.

Once up the hill it was a gently rolling affair to Belvoir Castle before heading downhill to Long Lane and the long ride along a dead straight road back to Stathern. Being in the lead I gauged my effort as best as possible, waiting really for stronger cyclists to come and catch me. This one of them did as we approached Belvoir Castle, his cause helped by me being stuck behind some slow moving traffic trying to get into a new shopping complex that had opened since the Duathlon course was created. I didn’t know him at the time but the guy who passed me was Tom Marshall – more of whom later.

Leading the bike leg race at Belvoir Castle with traffic to contend. Race winner tom Marshall closes in!
Picture c/o race organisers.

Drafting wasn’t allowed at this race so I gave him the allowable distance and tried my best to hold onto his wheel as we went down Long Lane. We were fortunate this year as this has often been the scene of some very strong headwinds. Today there was virtually no wind and any there was was a side wind and had negligible effect.

By the time we turned left back into Stathern I had been passed by two more riders to sit fourth, but the gap to me and Tom in the lead was only around 30 seconds. I misjudged my effort slightly on the bike, thinking we had further to ride than we did, so could have put a bit more effort into it. The data after the event revealed a 21 mph average @ 246W which is not bad for me off the back of a run (albeit 5K was the shortest I had done in a leg one run at a Duathlon). Perhaps more tellingly at 33:00 I was only four seconds slower than Adam Madge, who was almost a minute quicker than me over 10 miles at the summer Witham Wheelers time trials, and less than three minutes slower than the quickest cyclist (who luckily for me wasn’t the strongest runner).

Me coming into transition at the end of the bike leg, feet out of shoes.
Picture c/o race organisers.

My second transition wasn’t the best, despite having successfully gotten my feet out of the cycle shoes before dismounting. I lost a few more seconds to those around me, especially leader Tom Marshall. Sitting fourth I soon got into my running, another 5K along the same route as the opening run leg. I quickly passed the third and second placed runners, giving me over just over two miles to try and catch Tom. Normally I’m one of the strongest runners on the second run leg of a Duathlon, but no matter how hard I pushed Tom just wouldn’t get any closer.

Coming out of transition on the second run leg in fourth position.
Picture c/o race organisers.

The first mile 5:38, having turned around at halfway it was 5:46. Despite encouragement from those I was passing in the opposite direction there was little more I could do and at two and a half miles I more or less admitted defeat, moaning to myself how the sun had come out on what was meant to be a cloudy day and I hadn’t worn my sunglasses.

Race winner Tom Marshall celebrates at the end of the race.
Picture c/o race organisers.
Me coming home at the end of the race in second position.
Picture c/o race organisers.

With a final 5K split of 17:43 I finished in 1:09:35. This would have won me the previous two Stathern Duathlons (albeit they were held in March in worse conditions) but Tom Marshall was 34 frustrating seconds quicker. We were quick to congratulate each other and analyse our performances. It turned out that Tom was fresh out of Ironman training and racing which what he lacked in outright run speed he made up in great endurance – his second run split was just a second slower than his opening. It also turned out he was a pretty decent runner – he was fourth in the Sleaford Half Marathon where I was second.

Me celebrating with race winner Tom Marshall.
Picture c/o race organisers.

I was nearly two minutes clear of the third placed finisher – Richard Marshall, meaning I was surrounded at the finish by Marshalls! – with my nearest Belvoir Tri Club competition Adam coming home fifth. This meant I was finally the BTC Duathlon Champion! It also meant the beginning and end of my 2018 Duathlon Season – having turned down the opportunity to take part in the European Championships this sport became little more than a footnote, which was a shame because I quite enjoyed my one and only foray in 2018, a little disappointed to have not won it but pleased to be second to an athlete who was simply better on the day.

The top three at the end of the race (L to R): Richard Marshall, third; Tom Marshall, race winner; Matthew Kingston-Lee, third.
Picture c/o race organisers.

 

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Two Counties Half Marathon – Sunday 9th September 2018 – The Race

As is fairly typical I was one of the first to arrive at East Carlton Country Park, venue of the Two Counties Half Marathon, two hours or so before the start. I had a relaxed build up to what appeared to be a fairly relaxed, low key kind of race. Around an hour before the start I went on a one and a half  mile warm up which doubled up as a recce of the infamous hill that we would face at the end of the race. It’s the same hill that many a runner has moaned about in the Corby 5 Mile Race. To be honest I didn’t think that much of it – it was certainly no Casthorpe nor Minnett’s Hill, but I could see that in the final mile of a half marathon it would be a great deal harder to climb than during an easy paced warm up.

The warm up itself felt okay, if a little concerning in the sense that the head cold I had caught was definitely just knocking that 1-2% off my peak capacity. I still felt I could run a good race, I just had to be careful I didn’t push too hard. A final trip or two to the toilet and I was good to go, making my way back to the base of the steepest part of the hill where we would start. A couple more trips to a bush to lose some of the fluid I had taken on board (it was around 19C – so reasonably cool, but warm enough to require good hydration) and I was finally ready to  take my place near the front of the field on the start line.

The start of the race. Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

At just before 10am we were sent on our way. A fairly young runner (the bearded one on the video above) who had lined up just behind me, wearing the oversized Oakley Jawbreaker style sunglasses that have come back into vogue, shot past me and hurtled into the lead. We were running slightly downhill but I sensed immediately he had no hope of maintaining his pace, which I estimated to be well under five minute miles given that my watch suggested I was running at around 5:20 pace for the opening few hundred meters.

A lone figure in green with a sea of Corby blue at the start of the race.
Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

Sitting in fourth I deliberately held off the pace off the runners in front of me for the opening mile, slowing enough to go through mile 1 in 5:49. Shortly after the opening mile came the first challenging climb of the race – I was pleased to see that I could close on those in front of me without having to go full gas, although they did then pull away again on the following downhill section. At a mile and a half we reached the end of Wire Lane and headed into Ashley Road to begin a near 10 mile clockwise loop, shaped rather like a bow tie.

We had a headwind for the near two mile long stretch to the village of Ashley. Mile two was a 5:51, mile three was 6:08, but worth 5:49 on Strava gap once the ascent was taken into account (and perhaps worth a little more given the headwind). By now the gap to third and second which had been around 10 seconds had begun to close down, so that by the time we went through 5K in 18:32 and headed north to Medbourne, I was hot on their heels.

The runner who led the first 3.5 miles. Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

Aided by a tailwind and the adrenaline of running on a road open to fast moving traffic while catching those ahead of me I caught and passed the third and second placed runners in quick succession, running the fourth mile in 5:36. The fifth mile saw us run through Medbourne and it was here where I caught the leader since the start of the race, who was quite dramatically paying the penalty for his over exuberant start.

I quickly put a gap on him but noted that I still had company. The runner who I passed when he was third had moved up the field just behind me and had now closed onto my shoulder, passing me as we went through mile 5 (5:39).  The standard racing tactic would have been to sit on his shoulder and try and hold on but, given that I knew that the hardest sections of the race were still to come, I decided to stick to my own pace and let the gap grow to around 10 seconds as we passed through mile 6 (5:51), running the second 5K in 17:41. The runner at the front of the race was Luke Montgomery of local club. It was soon apparent that he was pretty well known to those supporting the race, cheering him on nearly all by name and clearly giving him that hometown adrenaline buzz.

Luke Montgomery of Corby – local hero and long time race leader. Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

Mile 7 was was another fairly swift one at 5:38 as we enjoyed flattish terrain and a rear crosswind. Not long after seven miles we began to climb. I’d had information from a club mate who had run the race in 2017 that this was a fairly testing climb. I was quite pleased to see that the Luke was coming back to me quite swiftly. Indeed as we turned off the main road to head south through Bringhurst and the road ramped up again, I caught and briefly passed him.

Feeling the legs start to get heavy from the effort of climbing I looked at my Garmin and noted that my HR had climbed over 175, which is getting towards the upper Z5 levels of my capacity. Knowing it would be unwise to go too long into the red I eased up and allowed Luke to overtake me once again and pull away as we went over the top of the climb and onto a fairly long descent. The gap pulled back out to around ten seconds before stabilising. I didn’t give up hope of a potential victory – I knew that the worst climb of the race was still to come and if I could leave something in the tank it could be expected that I could close the gap again and retake the lead.

Mile 8, which featured the long climb was a 5:57, mile 9 a little quicker at 5:53 but effectively saw a  slight slowing as it was mostly flat. This was also the diciest section of the race as the narrow road, open to traffic, was busier than it should have been thanks to a local car boot sale that was just starting and attracting plenty of somewhat impatient visitors.

As we ran first through Cottingham and which led near seamlessly into Middleton, there was a sharp right hand bend which took us onto a pleasant tree covered road that would take us back to the opening road of the race and the finish. There was good crowd support here for a small rural race – all of it though was for the leader, who appeared to be coming back to me as I clocked the gradually uphill mile 10 in 5:58.

The road was now closed to traffic as it would be to the finish. Mile 11 was slightly downhill for the most part, the pace picked up up to 5:48. Without consciously picking up the pace I had all but caught the leader. Rather than sit with him and run at his pace, risking the possibility that he could rally in the final stages – especially with the local crowd support, I maintained my pace and pulled alongside and ahead of Luke. He tried to stay on my heels, but as we turned left into the long, mainly uphill finishing straight, the gap began to quickly grow as Luke appeared to crack.

Me in the closing mile of the race – looking surprisingly fresh. Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

Mile 12 was 5:49 and the biggest test of the race was about to commence. The first of two climbs, the first was a short, sharp test, which I managed without too much difficulty. I relaxed as I went over and down over the other side, encouraged by what appeared to be the race organisers roadside. Taking a breather as I knew the bigger climb lay ahead, I took a little look around and was relieved to see that there was no one in sight.

Looking not quite so fresh a few seconds earlier.
Picture c/o Adam Brooks.

Knowing that, barring absolute disaster, victory was mine, I could have eased up the final climb and cruised to a win. However, this was a club GP Series race and times converted to age grade is the all important factor, so there was no letting up. My rather brilliant Peter’s (Race) Pacer data field on my newish Garmin had been telling me for some miles I was looking at a low 1:16, which began to drift a little as I began the final climb. Keen to keep it under 1:17 I kept the effort high, pushing all the way to the top of the hill and onto the finishing line inside the Country Park.

There was a little celebration at the finish, the raising of both hands and a big smile across the face. The finishing time was 1:16:52, which was apparently a new course record (The race is only in its second year). The final mile was the slowest of the race at 6:12 but the Strava GAP reckons it was worth 5:37, which makes it one of the quickest of the race.

The winner’s finishing medal at the Two Counties Half Marathon!

As a result of this strong final mile the record books will show that I ended up winning by a fairly comfortable minute and fifty seconds. That won’t tell the full story of the race, how I sat off the pace at the start, took the lead only to lose it, then sat fairly patiently off the leader suspecting that he may not be able to sustain his pace.

It turned out to be a high risk strategy that paid off, especially when I looked up Luke’s Power of 10 profile at the end of the race which revealed he has a  10K PB nearly two minutes quicker than mine. The reason he cracked was that he specialises in the shorter distances (he runs a lot of 3000 and 5000 meter races on the track) and this was only his second foray over the half marathon distance (his other effort was in 2014) and he found his stamina on the day a little wanting.

With plenty of spectators wishing me a warm well done I moved back a few yards down the circuit to see in the small contingency of fellow Grantham Running Clubbers who were also taking part. We had to wait an eternity for the ultimately rather low key prize giving, but it was worth it for the generous cash prize that came my way. With the sense that I had won the race in the quickest possible time with the least possible effort and hadn’t strained myself too much – especially with the cold I was carrying, it was definitely a sense of mission accomplished as I made my way back home.

Trophy and cash in an envelope for winning the Two Counties Half Marathon!
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Two Counties Half Marathon – Preparation

Returning from the Tour of Britain / holiday on Wednesday 21st August any thoughts of a relaxing couple of weeks with little or no running soon dissipated with the continuing good form compelling me to get out there and keep on running. The day after getting home I did a club run which included 4 miles of threshold pace which wound up being 5:43 mile average with the final two miles run at 5:25 and 5:23!

There was finally a day’s rest on the Friday before I headed to Belton House parkrun on the Saturday. With seven miles already in the legs I had little expectations of a fast time. However with a rabbit just ahead of me for much of the run and not paying any real attention to my lap splits (I don’t tend to reset the Garmin at the start of a parkrun) I had little idea until I got home that I’d run something quite quick and saw that I was one second off my parkrun best on Strava. The official time of 17:01 was indeed one second off my Belton House parkrun PB and again frustratingly close to that sub 17 clocking!

The next day I ran the Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon course with a mile and a half or so either side of the course. Pleasingly and with not much effort (Z2 HR on the flat Z3 on the two big hills) I averaged 6:37 for the 16 mile run. There was though some warning signs in a bit of a tight left hamstring which led to a tight calf so the following day it was a Zwift session only on the new Inssbruck course.  The Tuesday saw the Witham Wheelers Hill Climb Championships. I rode 24 miles getting to Harby Hill and warming up, before going full gas for the three quarters of a mile effort. I went out far too hard too early and died a thousand deaths at the end. Slower than my effort a couple of years earlier I wound up third and a bit disappointed. The 19 mile ride home with Stephen was quite fun as the light rapidly disappeared and we raced as fast as possible to get back to Grantham before darkness totally fell!

After an easy run and Zwift on the Wednesday, Thursday saw more easy Zwifting in the morning followed by the Grantham Running Club Handicap 10K in the evening. I have no chance of winning, so I treated the event as a solid run – 5 miles at marathon HR and the final mile at half marathon HR or thereabouts. The result: 35:55 and 35 seconds quicker than in 2017. Pleasing!  Friday and work saw an enforced rest before Belton House parkrun on Saturday. Again there was seven miles before doing the parkrun itself. Buoyed by the quick time seven days earlier I made more of a concerted effort to break 17 minutes. Despite a fair crack I fell a little short, clocking 17:06. I think this was partly due to coming first by around 90 seconds and having nothing to run or chase down. A steady three miles home and I clocked a half marathon distance in 1:24:03.

The following day was the Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon, rescheduled from it’s postponement back in March when the Beast from the East swept through Grantham town. Despite having an entry I was unable to officially take part – work on the Italian Grand Prix had to take preference. Thanks to the race organisers at GAC I was able to pick up my number and set off to run the course at 8:45, well ahead of the 10:30 start time.  I ran the course steadily, picking up the effort a touch in the final miles but never putting in a full effort. I clocked 1:23:40 which, largely due to the rapidly rising temperatures, would have seen me finish in the top five in the race itself. I was somewhat grateful I was unable to race!

The week prior to the Two Counties Half Marathon did at least have something of a taper in mind, although I went into the race with the mindset that the target races would be the Great Eastern Half in October and the Leeds Abbey Dash 10K in November – so the mileage didn’t really drop much, although the intensity of effort did. There was Zwift in the morning on Monday, followed by a 12 mile club run in the evening, five miles run at a steady lick along the canal. Tuesday saw an easy ten miles in the morning with a Zwift race in the evening. Wednesday morning saw me running up the toughest climb in the area – Minnett’s Hill – in preparation for a hilly half. I didn’t go full gas, but it felt pretty easy, inspiring some confidence. Thursday had more Zwift racing in the morning followed by a 11 mile club run in the evening, where I ran hard down Casthorpe Hill to practice the start of the race on Sunday. Friday saw a day off and the beginning of a mild cold. It wasn’t severe enough to stop me doing parkrun on Saturday, which I ran progressively after a very easy start, picking up the pace and the places to finish third in 18:40 or so. I would have liked the heart rate to have been a touch lower and the chest a little less tight, but I was fairly confident the cold wouldn’t hinder me too much.