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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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Race Report – Woodhall Spa 10K – Sunday 3rd June 2018

Following on from the PB at the Lincoln 5K I went into the Woodhall Spa 10K with a sense of optimism that I could attack my 10K PB at a race that is renowned for being capable of some very quick times. The knee pain that plagued me for much of May soon disappeared – I used the Voltarol gel for a couple more runs before it was apparent that it was no longer required.

I was still training very much with running at a minimum. I waited three days before running then again two days later when I went on a 10 mile run to test the new Garmin Forerunner 935 I had treated myself to. The 910XT has served me very well but it is just starting to get a bit long in the tooth – battery life is not what it was and the repeated frustration of a very long reading at the 5K persuaded me to upgrade for a watch that will hopefully see me through another five years of running, cycling, elliptical training and, maybe, just maybe, some swimming. The watch was great, the next day I test an add on called Peter’s Race  Pacer which could be a godsend in longer races especially – more of that later.

What the watch couldn’t stop was some very sore Achilles thanks to some very tight calf muscles. Wednesday’s very wet run was made doubly miserable by the right Achilles aching constantly, as it did after Thursday evening’s post chain gang ride brick mile. I ran 10 mostly off road miles on the Friday, the right Achilles had a dull ache but seemed to be improved with some stretching of the calf muscle, which I was sure was the source of the problem.

Come Sunday morning and the right Achilles was still aching but I was willing to risk it for a stab at a quick time. Before leaving the house I optimistically set Peter’s Race Pacer for a sub-34 minute 10K, which would better my PB of 34:09 by 10 seconds if I managed to pull it off. When I stepped out of the house to get into the car I soon realised that the weather would be perhaps the major limiting factor in any such PB attempt. It was only 8am but already it was 18C+  and humidity was high, already feeling uncomfortably clammy just sitting in the car, let alone running.

I arrived at Woodhall Spa shortly after 9am. With the race not starting until 11:15am it gave plenty of time to prepare and also plenty of opportunity for conditions to heat up! The car was parked around a mile from the HQ so I changed into my kit at the car (It was already plenty warm enough to be comfortable in just a vest) and walked over to the start area. Once there there were some familiar faces from Grantham Running Club, so many in fact that by 10:15 or so we had enough to create a rather impressive group photo!

GRC at Woodhall Spa

With the photo done I ran a near 2 mile warm up, of two loops, the second mile progressively getting quicker. The right Achilles ached a bit but gave no undue cause for concern. The heat and humidity however was troubling, the sunshine, which had not been forecast, was rocketing temperatures well into the mid twenties Celsius which, coupled with high humidity, made running very unpleasant. With little that could be done about it though I set about stretching the calves as much as possible, seeking shade and timing the final toilet stop to perfection.

I made my way to the start with around five minutes to spare. I lined myself up near the front. Any thoughts of a victory were dispelled an hour or so earlier with the appearance of former winner Matt Bowser, who is one of the best runners in the region and has a sub-30 minute 10K on his palmares. I was not that fussed though about a good placing – ideally I wanted a good group of similarly paced runners who would hopefully see me through to a quick time.

The race started on time at 11:15am. As predicted Matt B and one other runner (William Strangeway) were soon disappearing far into the distance. There were around five or six other runners in front of me, the only one I recognised was RAF / Sleaford’s Iain Bailey, who I had raced against several times and had never beaten him. As he pulled 10 or seconds clear over the first mile or so this looked like it would be a repeat performance.

As mentioned earlier, I was using Peter’s Race Pacer (PRP) for the first time. The idea of this app is that you punch in a certain time for a race, e.g. 34 minutes for a 10K and it will tell you whether you are up or down on that target. That element is basically the same as Garmin’s Virtual Partner. What makes PRP pretty cool is that 1. It has all the key data fields required during a race on one page, namely elapsed time, HR, average pace for the run, instant pace, and distance run.  2. It will dynamically update what your finishing time will be. 3. the instant pace is an average of 10 seconds which takes out the discrepancies you can sometime get with instant pace – especially when a foo pod is not being worn (I was wearing one but it, wasn’t working!). 3. The potential killer feature is the ability for the predicted finish time to be adjusted by hitting the lap button when passing course mile / km markers. With half marathons and marathons especially, after a few miles a watch can often be 0.1 of a mile or more out, at the London Marathon I have been as much as 0.5 mile out once GPS has been lost / confused by underpasses and Canary Wharf buildings. Whereas I’ve relied on a little mental maths to try and approximate a finish time, PRP will adjust the distance and predicted finish time accordingly when you hit the lap button when passing a mile marker.

The only issue with testing it at a 10KM race was that the markers were in kilometres which meant I had to use KM splits, which I’m not really familiar with. The watch still showed current pace and average pace in minutes/mile, but I did miss the affirmation of a mile split. I passed the first KM in 3:18 which I carried through to run the first mile in 5:33. For the opening minute or two I was running significantly quicker – sub 34 pace, but I soon settled into a pace which looked like it would bring me in at around about 34:15 pace.

Mile 3 having just passed a couple of runners.

The second mile was 5:34 and for a while things were looking good. I had  closed on and passed a group of three runners, those in the picture above in fact, and was closing down on Iain Bailey, who I passed at around 2.5 miles, and put a few second’s gap on him.

However, not long after passing Iain, the wheels began to slowly, but inexorably, fall off. The sun was well and truly out and it was rapidly becoming very unpleasant to run in. Then there were the rather ominous twinges of tightness and discomfort running from the base of the right Achilles and ankle further up and into the calf muscle. It was not bad enough for it to particularly slow me but it was not confidence inspiring and there was the fear that, at any moment, things could go bang! and it would be game over, not just for the race but for the foreseeable future.

The third mile was a touch slower again at 5:37, going through 5K in 17:20, which was nowhere near where I wanted to be at halfway. With thoughts of a PB well and truly out of the window it was just a case of hanging on and trying to find ways to keep the concentration high and run as fast a time as possible. There was the lure of trying to get a good age grade as this was a club GP Series race where Age Grade is all important. I had a feeling I could be on for a reasonable finishing position with the possibility of being first V40. There was also the lure of claiming the scalp of Iain Bailey, which ultimately would be the driving motivator as the finish line came closer.

Mile 4 was a horrible 5:48, but I was suffering, so clearly was everybody else as those behind me weren’t passing me and those ahead were not pulling too far ahead. The course itself is not entirely flat, no real hills to speak of, but little undulations that seemed to sap the life out of you when they climbed gently upwards, yet offered little benefit when dropping down. It was too a fairly boring course, with little in the way of crowd support or stunning scenery.

By mile 5 I was really questioning why I was putting all this effort in to do something as pointless as running 10K. This is not an uncommon thought during a 10K, it’s a tough distance run very close to maximal effort for its entirety. But with the conditions on this day proving particularly harsh, the wisdom of such efforts were hard to justify. The rot was stopped with a 5:42 fifth mile, although I was getting KM splits during the race that meant little.

What I was relying on was the finish time predictor which was settling at around 34:42. With just over a mile to run I was determined to keep inside 35 minutes, which would be a satisfying return given the conditions. That last mile lasted an eternity. I could tell that Iain Bailey was closing on me, as we returned to the race HQ there were more spectators, many of them appearing to be Bailey fans willing him on to catch and pass me.

I think as we passed the 200 meters to go sign he was within a second or so of me. Determined to not let him pass I put in a sprint finish that I’ve rarely mustered and came home to eventually beat him by a relatively comfortable seven seconds. As I sunk to my knees, I looked at my watch – 34:45 was the time, not quite what I’d hoped for, but it transpired that, with 82.99% age grade, it was, statistically, my best ever race – although it most certainly did not feel like it.

With the flow of adrenaline leaving my body, the pain in the right Achilles appeared to increase. I hobbled over to a tree for shelter, removed my trainers, and spent a good ten minutes watching GRC runners come home. It took some time for me to find out I finished 5th, which I worked out guaranteed me an Age Group prize. I hung around for an eternity for the presentation only for the MC to announce that Age Category prizes would be sent out in the post! Suffice to say, the envelope sent through my door with £20 in it was not as satisfying as actually being able to receive some applause on the day itself.

Holly and me Woodhall Spa – Age Group Winners!

I hobbled back to the car and drove home. Walking the next day was not easy but I was able to cross train, and after a couple of weeks I was able to start running again, albeit still with Achilles issues that I need to get to the bottom of the root cause. Tight calves is the likely issue. Until then running is taking a bit of a back burner to cycling, hopefully I will be fit in time for my holidays!

 

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Race Report – Lincoln Wellington AC 5K Series: Race 1 – Tuesday 22nd May 2018.

Immediately following the Sleaford Half Marathon, my bruised knee, which had survived the race itself, began to rear its ugly head and forced me to change my training plans. I rode for a couple of days (Including a 10 mile TT) without pain but on a 11 mile social run with Stephen Hobday (which included introducing him to Minnett’s Hill) the discomfort in the knee was sufficient for me to decide to take a week off running and try and let the knee heal.

This meant a lot of time on Zwift, with quite a few races where I was finding myself well inside the top 20 which was pleasing. A session on the elliptical trainer caused some discomfort in the knee which made me suspect that a muscle or tendon running to the kneecap may have been causing the discomfort, so I began targeting the likely suspects with some massage and strengthening exercises.

The Zwift sessions appeared to pay off at the Witham Wheelers 12 mile circuit TT, where I finished sixth in a new PB, over a minute quicker than I’d ridden previously – done on a road bike rather than the (Broken) TT bike and with clip on time trial bars rather than a proper TT cockpit, and pleasing considering I averaged 298 watts just a day after a very hard race on Zwift. The improving cycling form didn’t seem to cure the knee alas. I went for a brick 5k after a Zwift session on the Thursday morning (eight days after my last run) and the knee soon began aching again, not getting to the point where it was affecting my running (I averaged 6:01 for the 5K effort) but enough to not make running much fun. This discomfort repeated itself a day later with a mile brick run the next day.

Saturday came, three days before the Lincoln 5K, and I was in Bakewell taking part in the Brewin Dolphin Peak Tours Sportive. I may end up writing about this at another time, suffice to say it was 99 miles of hills in glorious sunshine. Enjoying a good ride and enjoying the likes of Winnats Pass, I managed to get a gold standard by just over 10 minutes having spent just over 6 hours in the saddle. With the weather still glorious on the Sunday I rode another 70 miles, this time with Witham Wheelers on one of their Sunday morning socials. I considered a brick run but with the knee still an issue when running I relucantly waited until the Monday morning before heading out early in the morning for a 10K recovery run from the rides over the weekend. While the legs benefited from the shakeout, the right knee continued to grumble, beginning to hurt a mile into the run and seemingly getting a little worse all the while the run continued. Like on the other runs though as soon as I stopped running the pain went away, which made me inclined to believe the pain wasn’t critical enough to be that much a cause for concern. This was backed up with an easy hour on Zwift in the evening, where the only issue was tired legs.

Tuesday came and the only exercise of the day prior to the race was the school run in the afternoon, where I stopped by at the chemists for a tube of Voltarol gel. I’m loathed to running with painkillers but I thought in this instance it may be worth the risk as one of the suggested remedies for a bruised kneecap was to use some anti-inflammatory painkillers, which I had, up to now, resisted using. Before I even got home I rubbed some gel into the right knee cap and also into the lower inner thigh, where I suspected any referred pain was coming from. I felt no immediate benefit, but then again I’d not expected to as the pain had not been evident when walking for a couple of weeks.

Once home I was still undecided on whether I was going to race the 5K or take part in the club TT. Like on two other instances I went out for a short half mile run close to home to assess the state of affairs with a late fitness test. To my relief I felt nothing in my knee, Both Achilles though felt quite sore so I swapped the Nike Frees for the Hoka Hoka One Clifton 3s which felt a little more comfortable on another half mile test – and once again there was no pain in the knee. I decided I would take part in the 5K. I knew that on the previous instances I’d passed a late fitness test I went onto enjoy good runs (Second place at the Newton’s Fraction and the Sleaford Half) so in a weird way I was enthused by the need to have a late fitness test.

So at 5:45pm I left for the Yarborough Leisure Center in Lincoln, arriving at 6:30pm – an hour before the start of the race. I was fully expecting to not be able to find a space to park, but I got very lucky and found a space recently vacated as I drove past. I went to the small race HQ, filled out an entry form, queued for a few minutes, paid my £5 and went to get changed. Once changed I returned to the car to drop off my bag and then put in a one mile warm up which, at 6:34 pace was a fair bit quicker than my normal relaxed mile or so before a race.

With the warm up out of the way I found a wall to shelter behind and to do some stretches before the race. The weather was not bad for racing – sunny, and at around 19C pleasant enough for a 5K without being overly warm. The issue though was the wind. A steady, bordering on the stiff, breeze meant that around half of the broadly rectangular shaped loop we would run on would be affected by a headwind. Of course what blows into you also blows you along when there is a tailwind, but the consensus is that generally you’d rather have little or no wind at all for the fastest possible conditions.

While stretching I got to ponder the possibilities of the race for a few minutes with club mate Rob McArdle. I was uncertain about whether the knee would hold, but fairly confident that if it did I could clock a good time, given the time at Sleaford in poor conditions. The unknown mitigating factor would be whether I’d fully recovered from the weekend’s cycling efforts and whether the paucity of running in the three weeks following the bike crash – only around 25 miles excluding the Sleaford Half – would be detrimental to my running fitness.

Five minutes before the start I lined up and just put in one burst of 50 meters or so at race pace. Rather pleasingly any heaviness that I’d experienced in the warm up had left the legs and they felt pretty race sharp. On the start line I bumped into young Jake Richardson, a runner I first ran against when he was a junior when I had only just moved to Grantham and had recently become more aware of his exploits having followed him on Strava and having run with him in a recent GRC training run. He expressed his hopes of a quick time, ideally sub 15 minutes. I knew that if he managed that he would become the fastest runner I’ve trained with, indeed he only had to break 15:50 or so to take that prized mantle. (In the end Jake would run 15:30 to finish second – a cracking effort!)

The race began promptly, too promptly in fact for a couple of young lads had failed to understand the starters’ instructions that we start with the firing of a horn and not the preceding whistle. With that short amusement out of the way we were off. With this being the third time I’d run a LWAC 5K I was confident of three eventualities:

  • The majority of the field would go off at a ridiculously fast pace they had no hope of maintaining.
  • The quality of the field should ensure runners at around my ability to race against.
  • My Garmin would dramatically overstate the distance of the race, perhaps by as much as a minute on my real time.

The first eventuality came to fruition just as planned, I found myself swamped by a load of runners who, once we turned the first corner around 100 meters after the start, began to inexorably slow. As in previous years I knew that this was not a huge drama as a glance at the Garmin showed we were tootling along at just over 5 minute mile pace. A bit boxed in, it took a little longer that desired to find a gap and escape the slowing runners, but within a minute of running I was on the coattails of a bunch of runners who appeared to be at a pace that suited my one goal in the race – to secure a 5K PB. My fastest two 5K times had come at this LWAC 5K race – 16:55 in 2014 and 16:57 in 2017. I’d somehow managed a 16:36 at Ferry Meadows parkrun in 2015 but I’m in the parkrun is not the same as a 5k race camp so 16:55 was the time I was looking to eclipse.

On the coattails of a bunch of five runners I’d sussed the wind direction out and knew that if I wanted to maximise the opportunity of sheltering from an imminent headwind I had to put in an effort to catch them. This I did on the corner before the finish line, just before the headwind came into full effect. If you believe the pace graph from my Garmin (And I’m more than a touch skeptical) I put my quickest effort of the race in here save the finish sprint which rewarded me with the goal of being on the back of a bunch of five runners, who all seemed willing to take the pace at the front into the headwind and not play tactics and ease up when at the front.

The short lap is just half a mile and we were then off on the first of three larger laps. I had already though seen club mate Penny drop out of the race (it transpired she had a dodgy hamstring which didn’t want to play ball on the night) and it made me aware that I couldn’t fully trust my knee would hold out. For all the while it was okay though I would make hay. Into the head wind on the first large lap I duly tucked into the group of runners, one of whom I recognised as the Lincoln Wellington runner I passed at around 4 miles in the Sleaford Half. All struggling into the headwind we were relieved when we turned the corner once to face a crosswind and then soon curved around once more so we enjoyed a tailwind. You could feel the difference in pace, confirmed by the data post race which suggests that we were slowing to around 5:30 into the head wind, and running just under 5 minute mile pace with the tailwind.

This of course is all purely subjective, for when my watch alerted me that I’d tackled the first mile in 5:08, I knew from bitter experience not to get too excited by the prospect of a 16 minute 5K. Back in 2014 the same happened and I excitedly saw 15:55 or so on my watch as 3.1 miles clicked over on the Garmin only to realise I still had at least another minute of running, finally clocking 3.3. miles. Half expecting it in 2017 I once again ran something close to 16 minutes for 5K only to find myself with plenty of the race to come. I’d half hoped that changing a setting so that the watch recorded every second would help matters, but I knew when the first mile clicked over that it was going to be a case of ignoring the splits and judging the race more or less by feel. (What makes this all the more frustrating is that it only seems to be my watch that has this inability to measure this course anywhere near accurately – I guess though it’s a good think in it’s consistency in being wrong!)

At the same time I glanced at my HR. This more reliable (although not infallible) guide to effort was reading 171 BPM at a mile, which was pleasing because this is in my upper limits for a half marathon. With this knowledge at hand and feeling as though I was a bit faster than the group I was with, I considered pushing on and attempting to leave the group, but I felt that the benefit of a shield into the headwind was arguably worth more than a few lost seconds not running at maximum possible pace.

I cannot really remember much of the second lap other than it was more of the same: sheltering and working hard into the wind and recovering while being pushed along by the wind. Mile 2 was 5:10, the HR had crept slowly but consistently up to 175bpm, which is at around 10K limits. Most importantly I was still feeling quite comfortable for the all important last mile – when the comfortable can very quickly become the unbearable as lactate build up peaks and wreaks havoc with the legs.

Things began to change on the final lap. I think we last a couple of runners in our group of five because I can only remember there being a couple in front of me. We passed young Will Tucker of Grantham AC, touted as the quickest distance runner in Grantham, which he undoubtedly will be very soon, but on this evening, I was looking like I would go a little faster. I kept behind the two left in the group for the duration of the headwind section. As soon as this became a tailwind, I let the breeze do its best to propel me on, passing the two in front of me. I knew I had just a couple of minutes left of running and had to empty the tank but this suddenly became a much easier proposition in the mind than in reality as the lactate overflowed with the HR at 178.

Mile 3 clicked over on the Garmin. A quick glance, another 5:10. A quick look at the elapsed time – 15:28. If only I had just another 0.1 mile of running to go! Alas, as in previous years, my Garmin had overstated the distance (3.26 miles to be precise), which meant I had a quarter of a mile, or around 400 meters left to run. With all thoughts of knee pain long forgotten, I pushed on as hard as I could. Thankfully one of the two guys I’d passed recently was now using me to pace themselves to the finish, which meant I had the physical impetus to keep the effort high. Heading around the final bend and with the finish funnel in sight, I put in one last effort, trying to lift the heavy legs as high and as fast and as far as they could.

I crossed the line and stopped the Garmin. I looked at the time: 16:45. I gave a rare shout of Yes! as an irrefutable 5K PB had been clocked. It would take a few days for the official results to confirm the same time. I finished 9th on the night and first V40 runner, which was a pleasant surprise, but not one I was really targeting as this race was all about the time. I had achieved the aim of a new PB and good age grade score (82.72%) for my club’s Grand Prix Series, of which this race was a round of.

A little out of breath, I declined the opportunity to collapse on the floor as many around me did, but did put hands on knees for a few moments to regain my composure. Once again this made me think that perhaps I don’t try quite as hard as those around me…. The benefit of being quickly recovered was that I was able to head back down the course to cheer each of the 14 other Grantham Running Club finishers home, eleven of whom also claimed Personal Bests on the evening.

The GRC Lincoln 5K 2018 Contingency.

Once all accounted for there was time for a rather pleasant sunset kissed group photo before heading back to the car for the journey home, very pleased with the way things turned out, not only in terms of the time but because the knee injury, which I had feared would be a potential season ending crisis, was perhaps not quite as bad as it could have been. I now had a twelve days to prepare for the next race: The Woodhall Spa 10K.