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From London to Langtoft For Their 10k

Running is an amazing pastime, perhaps unique in that one weekend you can be racing in one of sport’s most famous and iconic events – the London Marathon – and the very next weekend you can find yourself competing in the Langtoft 10K – a race that last year had 207 finishers and this year around 27 spectators (Some of those being marshals). When I pulled up with my travel companion Scott, we both were singing what the hell / f**k am I doing here (I was singing the Radio Edit). This is in no way disrespectful to Langtoft, a fine example of a fens village, it’s just that the weather was pretty terrible. Very wet and decidedly windy. The wet we could just about cope with. A windy race is not usually a fun race, especially when it’s taking place on the Fens – a part of the world where the wind speeds feel doubly strong thanks to the flat (some may say featureless) terrain.

What made it even worse was that just a few days ago I’d barely even heard of the race, let alone intended to run it. I heard Scott was planning to run on Wednesday, then on Thursday another club member offered up his race number as he was unable to take part. I let him know I was tempted but wanted to see how our club run went in respect to how the legs were after Sunday’s London Marathon. The 12 miles were fairly tortuous, with the upper glute area (In the right leg especially) which had cramped first in the marathon, aching enough for me to beg Scott for a lift home from the club rather than jog the mile or so back. During the course of the run and the lift home, I went from yes, I am running it,  to no, back to yes, then no, then I left it at maybe.

Friday morning and I struggled out of bed with stiffness but managed the elliptical trainer for ninety minutes. I saw no effects from that and although the right quad ached a fair bit I committed myself to racing on the Sunday afternoon. I took Saturday off entirely to let the leg rest up some more. Come Saturday night and a fair amount of massaging and stretching, the leg felt at around 80%. Sunday morning however saw the right leg feel fine, but the left hamstring near the groin aching, in a manner not dissimilar to how the right leg felt before the Notts AC Five Mile Race.

Coincidentally it was at that race in July last year where I last wore my Nike Lunar Racer 2 trainers (Save for an aborted warm up at the Lincs 5k the following week and at the club handicap race a few weeks after that). They were undoubtedly fast but they wreaked havoc to my Achilles, leaving them with literally bloody blisters. They had been consigned to the great trainer rack in the sky but for some reason or another I decided to give them another chance – albeit with a modification performed by my talented wife, who made several incisions to the Achilles tab with the intention of reducing the pressure it applied.

The Achilles Tab Surgery Applied To My Nike Lunar Racer 2 Trainers.

We arrived at Langtoft an hour before the off. We stumbled upon fellow club runner Stuart and proceeded to collect our numbers from a gazebo which was leaking water at an alarming rate, not only for the well being of the inhabitants but because it was also meant to be doubling up as the baggage area. We opted to use the boots of our cars…

Around half an hour before the off at 11:15 we set off for a warm up  / late fitness test. The left groin / hamstring was stiff and quite sore, but was manageable and didn’t hinder my gait. Happily too my right quad was pain free and the trainers felt great. So the race was on, but I didn’t think that I was quite up for giving it a full out attack. I’d mentioned on Thursday I would be happy to pace some of our runners. We met another club runner Anna on our warm up. She is a relative novice to the sport but has bags of potential to her already considerable ability, as she demonstrated when she seemingly waltzed around to a 3:13 clocking at her debut marathon at Manchester two weeks ago. She had no idea what she could run, but I think she could run around 39 minutes currently. Stuart fancied a sub 38 stab, his best around a minute slower than this.

I was in my usual last minute queue for the Portaloo, making it to the start with a fairly safe three minutes to spare. I hooked up with Anna and Stuart and made a final decision to aim for a 38 minute target, but planned a 6:30 clocking for the opening mile. As the klaxon was fired for the start of the race however this time seemed a little slow for however hard I / we tried, we couldn’t run any slower that 6:05 pace. There’s always a little exuberance at the start, but it seemed that the planned 6:30 mile was going to be thrown out of the window.

Also thrown out of the equation was the much feared bad weather. The rain had stopped shortly before the start, and with the cessation of precipitation also seemingly came a ceasefire in the strong winds. We were faced with a cross wind for the opening kilometre or so and it barely registered, much to the relief surely of every runner.

We went through the first mile in 6:10. Anna was just behind what we thought was the lead lady and fellow club member Will was way up the road seemingly in the first half dozen runners. Anna made it to around 10k but declared the pace a little too hot. We wished her well, she struggled with what is hopefully just cramp in her calf but ran a great debut road 10k in 40:24 to take third position in the women’s race. Stuart looked set to try and stick with the pace, we went through two miles in 6:07 and I tried my best to keep the pace consistent, which was happily relatively easy thanks to the flat terrain and relative non-presence of the wind.

The first inclination of Stuart struggling a touch was at the first water station where he needed to pour a fair amount of water to cool himself down. We went through the third mile in 6:11 and past halfway in around 19:10. 38 minutes was just about on if we could negative split the second 5k. This however was beginning to look doubtful as we hit the only significant climb of note – barely more than a 1% drag, but it was into the wind and slowed us to around 6:55 pace for the first quarter of the fourth mile.

Happily there was a descent to follow that helped us make up some lost time but, for the first time, Stuart was struggling to stick to my tail. We went through the fourth mile in 6:13 and began the opening tenth of the fifth mile in around 6:20 pace, me having to slow a touch to keep Stuart on board my train. I then made a decision ,as we made a turn that saw us head back to the start and enjoy a breeze on our backs for the return, to pick up the pace to what I thought we would need to break 38 minutes. I did this for a couple of minutes, looked around and saw that Stuart had no response.

I then looked ahead and saw Will, who had at one point been well over a minute ahead of us but now was just about within eyeshot and seemingly fading. This, I thought, was hardly surprising as he had run 17:02 at Peterborough parkrun the day before and had completed two speed sessions during the week. Tough going for a seasoned pro, let alone a raw 19 year old.

Feeling like I had a bit of running left in the legs. I began to pick up the pace. I passed a couple of runners as I went through the fifth mile in 5:56 and recognised the road to be the one we began the race on. Knowing we were in the final stages of the race with a fast flat run to the finish, I poured on the coals, running with an abandon I rarely allow myself. I caught and passed the lead lady, who totally unseen by us at the start, had opened a sizeable gap on her rivals. Will was now just 30 meters or so up the road and I doubled my efforts to catch him which I did just as we passed the 9km marker.

The sight of another GRC vest certainly spurred Will on, for he instantly matched my pace and, for a while, increased it. On another day I would have buckled and let him go ahead, but today I was having none of it, and just as I felt he was beginning to slow, I pushed again. The sixth mile was covered just as we turned left into the final twisty section at the finish HQ at Langtoft Primary School. It was a 5:22, one of the fastest miles I’ve ever clocked in a race.

I now had a sizeable gap on Will, which was just as well for I misheard a marshal’s cry of Well Done Grantham! for Hold On Grantham! at a left hand turn just before the finish. Luckily no damage was done for I soon realised the error of my ways and took the correct route to the finish line, clocking a pleasing, given the circumstances, 37:23, and finishing in a respectable thirteenth position. Happily too the modified trainers had been a resounding success, the Achilles unstressed by the modifications and the trainers still structurally sound despite being having several incisions.

Will came home not long after, as did Stuart, who had slipped a touch to finish in 38:54, but this was good enough to claim a new 10k PB. Anna came home not long after and then Scott, who was not that happy with his time, but the year is still young and there is plenty of time to come back into form.

There was no thought of a warm down, the left groin really tight as soon as the race had finished. We hung around to see Anna claim her third place prize, she was in esteemed company as Aaron Scott, who finished third in the Championship race at the London Marathon (with a 2:20 clocking), collected his winner’s prize having just missed out on the course record.

In terms of size, prestige and importance, it was a million miles away from the London Marathon. But, as I mentioned at the top of the report, this is what makes running such a great and unique sport. From ultra professional to grass roots in the blinking of an eye, but with a similar spread of quality and enthusiasm at both events. A very good little event is the Langtoft 10k. 

Langtoft 10k Grantham Running Club Post Race Photo.
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GRC / GAC Club 10k Handicap Race–Thursday 4th September 2014

A fun event hosted by Grantham Running Club, who invite members of Grantham Athletics Club to take part in a 10k Handicap Race. The idea is simple – all the runners are set off at different intervals with the intention of them, based on recent race performances, all coming home at exactly the same time. The winner is the runner who finishes furthest ahead of their predicted time.

With my 35:36 set at the Sumer Solstice used as my handicap time, I was due off last, around 50 seconds after the penultimate runner to set off, the incorrectly assigned #1 road runner in the Grantham postcode Josh Lord. No offence intended to young Josh, who is more sprightly than I’ll ever be over 800 meters and more impressively the 3000m steeplechase (where my hips wince in the mere anticipation of clearing a hurdle), but ‘We Are Road Running’ RunBritain have declared him #1 in Grantham when he has a 17:30 parkrun and a slow 10k run a couple of years ago as a 15 year old to fill his road running palmares. Although I had little intention of running this as a full blown race, a little bit of me at least wanted to run a little bit quicker than young Josh.

There was always a bit of uncertainty as to whether I’d actually make it to the start in time, coming on the Thursday of the Italian GP weekend. Thankfully paddock activities ended sufficiently early for me to hot foot it to Long Bennington in time for at least half of my intended warm up. Not for the first time in recent times I had issues with my intended footwear for the race – the new Lunar Racers again feeling as though they would inflict some blistering on the Achilles. Deciding it was not worth risking days of pain for a club race, I reverted again to the trusted Nike Frees, which with over 800 miles of road running in them, are beginning to feel distinctly second hand. The last time they were used in anger though they helped deliver a 5k PB so I thought they’d be good for one last race.

Essentially using the same course as the Summer Solstice, with only the start and run into the finish slightly different, much of the course would be fairly familiar having raced here a couple of months earlier and also having taken part in the same handicap race a year earlier. On that day I had a surprisingly good run to clock 35:53; I was hoping for something similar this year, but was going into the race with the intention of running it at half marathon HR and more or less perceived effort for the half marathon.

Setting off alone on what was essentially a time trial, the immediate difference between this event and a normal road race was apparent. Pacing is hard when alone, keeping motivation up when you cannot see anyone is tough. It took around a mile before I began to get Josh into my sights. I went through the first mile in 5:41, which is roughly what I want to be doing in the half marathon. I then began to struggle a touch, tiredness in the legs from plenty of miles of training and a tough strength and conditioning session in the morning. The second mile was 5:48, the next mile a second quicker. By now I had caught Josh. We ran together for a bit, but turning left into the Col de la Staunton In the Vale, as it is known on the Strava segment, I was able to ease ahead, thanks in part to setting a Strava CR on that slight rise.

All Alone at 5 Miles

Thereafter it was a case of keeping the effort in check as I began to pass more and more runners. The final 400 meters or so saw a more concerted effort as I reckoned it may be worth practicing a race finish. No quicker had the race finished and I was off on a mile warm down. The final time was 36:09 a little down on time and, based on respective HR, a little down on performance from last year. A little downbeat initially, I had to remind myself that training has been heavy recently and that one slightly slower than planned race does not end a career. Plus I put over 90 seconds on second quickest finisher Josh. Whether RunBritain will use this as evidence to change their stance on who is the #1 runner in Grantham, time will tell, but it was nice nonetheless to set fastest time on the night.

Slower though than my handicap time, which was always going to be the case, I wasn’t the winner of the Handicap. That though was never going to happen, I would have had to run 30 minutes on the night, which had I done so, would see me elevated to top 100 in the country. Instead I’d contend myself with a moderately pleasing performance which will hopefully help me on the pursuit of the half marathon PB in a few weeks time.

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Summer Solstice 10k–Friday 20th June 2014

It was never going to be the easiest race to make in the first place – a 7:15pm start on Friday Practice Day for the Austrian GP – a day when normally I’ll often not be done and dusted until gone 8pm. Throw into the mix an early afternoon hospital appointment with my wife in Nottingham, a short affair in duration that threw up more questions than answers; more uncertainty and doubt when what we really want and need is clarity and assurance.

I would not have considered racing were it not my second claim club Grantham RC’s flagship race – the Summer Solstice 10k. From what I’d seen in the preparations for the event, the committee had pulled out all the stops to host a race punching well above its weight when you consider how youthful and relatively small Grantham RC is compared to more established clubs. If I could not help in the operations of the race, the least I could do was to turn up, race, and hopefully secure a relatively good race position.

With just a couple of hours to finish work that would normally take four, I somehow reached a state where I could leave to head to the race HQ at 6:30pm. Thankfully I’d thought to have all my kit laid out ready to change, which I managed in less than three minutes. I was soon in the car and heading to Long Bennington, approximately 12 minutes drive from Grantham. I was out of the car at 6:55pm and, after the merest attempt at a pre-race stretch, I embarked on an equally half-baked attempt at a warm up run. Normally I like to arrive around 90 minutes before the start of the race; today I had to condense all those preparations into 20.

Alone at the Start

I wormed my way to the start line with around three or four minutes to spare. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of anything but the race I was about to take part in. I felt distinctly detached from those around me, as though I really didn’t belong here. I didn’t bother to look around to see what the competition was – I heard the quickest entrant a few weeks back had estimated a 34 minute finishing time, so it was possible I could, on a good day, be somewhere near the front.

Starting Next to Mr Livesey - The Closest Anyone Got To Him All Evening.

As we lined up on the start line, the minute warning given, I stood still – eyes staring into the still bright evening sun. My mind may have been foggy but the weather conditions around me could hardly have been better – blue skies and not a breath of wind. It may have been a touch on the warm side but I’ve for a long while, ever since I began running on the F1 Grand Prix circuit essentially, considered a hot race something of an advantage for me, once I’d established, perhaps wrongly, that coping with the heat whilst running is mostly a case of mind over matter. The shades would justifiably stay on for the entire race.

The start of the race.

From a countdown of five the race was off exactly on time. It took around 20 meters of running to establish exactly who was going to win, and win at a canter – Ben ‘2:17 London Marathon’  Livesey, who ran 29:28 at the Leeds Abbey Dash 10k last November, was entered, racing, and going to win. He inexorably and effortlessly glided away from the rest of the field, from the look of the pictures of him racing barely breaking sweat as he coasted to a course record 31:58.

Seconds After the Start and Ben's Gone.

 

All Too Easy For Ben...

Meanwhile I found myself in a group of around ten runners which quite quickly whittled itself down to around six. I was sitting fifth overall when we remembered Ben was racing, I made a brief surge at around a mile to take second position, but at that moment my mind switched irrevocably from thinking about the race to mulling over matters deeper. The first mile was pretty swift – 5:26, it felt comfortable but not a pace I could sustain with my mind in another place. Fairly soon I found myself fifth and gradually losing ground on the third and fourth place runners, conversely easing away from the sixth placed runner. I was, metaphorically, physically, and mentally in No Man’s Land.

The Summer Solstice course is a rural square shaped countryside course, with hints of the fens that lie not far to the east. This makes it a somewhat lonely race, low on spectators, with mostly straight to gently meandering lanes to run along. The second mile came at the first turn – I clocked 5:44. The next road to run along was around a mile and a half long and I had little but the occasional passing car to break the loneliness. My mind at this point was in something of a turmoil, questioning the point or purpose of racing. This is in stark contrast to the runs of recent times, which have provided a lifeline in attempting to bring clarity the subject of such gravity.

Keeping A Gap On The Sixth Placed Runner

Through the third mile in 5:45, I passed the 5k marker in approximately 17:40, not bad for a June 10k when hayfever can wreak havoc with my running. Not long after passing the halfway point there was another left hander and the only humour of the race when an enthusiastic, but possibly naive volunteer at the race’s only drink station, elected to hold the cup of water high above his head for me to grab. I declined his cup and went instead for a child’s, who held it at a far more comfortable waist height. One sip to wet the back of the throat and a little over the back of the head and that was it for race refreshment and straight into the only significant climb of the race, which in reality amounted to little more than a drag.

Racing Alone

It was enough though for the third placed runner to slow significantly, both I and the fourth placed runner closed on him rapidly so that by the fourth mile (5:46) the two ahead were running together and I was around 20 seconds behind. The fifth mile I cannot recall running any slower but it was logged as 5:54 (Adjusted to 5:44 on Strava GAP, so presumably it was a slight incline over most of the mile). I’d had a few cheers of support from marshal’s who recognised the Grantham RC vest but not necessarily the runner. Into the final full mile of the race and I passed Scott, who was a marshal with his son. He willed me to push on to try and catch the two in front of me. I tried, and I did manage to close the gap somewhat, but they were seasoned, experienced runners who knew too how to extract that little extra something in the final throws of a race.

Pushing On To The Finish

As we entered the final four hundred meters of the race I pushed fairly hard but not as hard as I could have in better circumstances – I was satisfied with what I’d done. I finished fifth, with my fourth fastest 10k time – 35:36. All things considered a good result, and maybe the last result of any significance for a while as efforts focus elsewhere to things that really matter.

Swiftly recovered, I picked up my memento pale ale and half pint glass (The glass will see use – the ale is up for grabs to anyone who likes beer….) I chatted for a while with fellow club mates who finished, but soon had to leave – there was work at home still to be done. It was a shame I couldn’t enjoy the race more, it pulled off the rare trick of being a slickly run, fully chip timed race with the atmosphere of a small summer village fete.

I hope very much to be able to race here again next year, with the mind all clear. With everybody who I hold dear – here.

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A Look Back: 2013 Leeds Abbey Dash 10k

When, back in late September, I got whiff that I may, despite all expectations, be entering a spell of good running form, I entered the Leeds Abbey Dash 10k. It was a calculated risk, it was on the day of the United States GP, which meant a late evening of work on the Saturday night followed by  an early start to the race before rushing back home to cover the F1 race.

Leeds seemed a smart choice. A club mate, Chris McCarthy, had set an excellent time there a year before and the quality of field on a fast flat course was high. After entry things continued to go well, a strong run at the Robin Hood Half Marathon, more good weeks of solid training followed. A parkrun in Peterborough was one second outside my PB; had I paced that run properly I would have smashed my 5k best. A rare race off road at Seagrave saw me come home in the top ten. A quick look at my nearest rivals on Power of Ten showed I was running in good company.

Training in the week of Leeds was atypical. A big drinking session on Saturday night saw me incapacitated on Sunday. I punished myself by running long on Monday, a hills session on Tuesday, eight miles on Wednesday and then sixteen miles on Thursday. I was knackered on that Thursday run. Overdoing it, I thought, so two days rest before the race on Sunday. Working on the US Grand Prix meant I had odd work shift patterns to contend with. I finished work at around 1am on the Friday night and not much earlier on the Saturday night.

I woke at around 5:45am and thankfully the plan of having everything packed and laid out ready came to fruition, for I was out of the door in less than 45 minutes. Sticking to the new policy of consuming three cereal bars for breakfast two and a half hours before the race, I had driven a fair way towards Leeds before breakfast was taken – washed down with a shot of beetroot juice for good luck.

I arrived in Leeds at 7:45, a long time before the start of 9:30 but I wanted to be assured of finding a spot in the most convenient car park, within easy jogging distance to the start line. Parking was free, or maybe free, because in the time it took for me to walk to the race village, 
use the amenities and return to the car, the signs saying it was free to park on a Sunday had been replaced with ones saying it cost £1! Much confusion reigned; a local assured us that it was free on this Sunday and that charges were to be introduced the following Sunday – the council slyly putting the signs up early to catch as many runners as possible. I believed the local gentleman as I was sure my eyes hadn’t deceived me 20 minutes earlier; plenty didn’t and stumped up the unnecessary cash for peace of mind.

I only usually do a mile or so for warm up, today I decided, especially as it was only 10k, to do a two mile warm up. I jogged along the A66 Kirkstall Road, which would form around 95% of the race. What was immediately apparent was that this section of the course was wide and pancake flat. Moreover the weather conditions were looking perfect for racing, overcast and windless, maxing out at around 9°C. After a mile I stretched a little, refastened the laces and headed back at a quicker pace. What gave me confidence for the race ahead was that as I came to the end of the mile I glanced at my Garmin and it said that in the final 1/3 mile I had averaged 6:02 pace and that felt ridiculously easy.

I headed back to the car and changed into my race kit. I walked towards the race village, but when I saw the queues for the Portaloos I realised there was little hope of being able to use them and be anywhere near the start line. I remembered that the TGI Friday’s opposite the car park clearly had its doors open where their toilets were. I took a chance and jogged back to the car park. I was right and a few others were taking the opportunity to use facilities far plusher and less popular than the official race provided amenities.

Thankful I was that crucial bit lighter I made my way back to the start, still with around 15 minutes before the off. Realising there was little point in placing myself in the start chutes I joined the hundreds who had already decided to queue for the start. It was there I met club mates Richard Simkiss and Chris McCarthy, a.k.a. the MrCarkiss Elite Project. I’d not seen either of them in months and it was good to meet face to face rather than on Facebook or the like. They were clearly both nervous – both looking to break 33 minutes – and both anxious that we were nowhere near the front of the pack waiting to start the race. The event may have been chip timed but positions would be hard to make up if it took ages to cross the start line. Moreover there was no knowing who would be lined up in front of you. Many a time there has been a 16 minute miling MP3 player wearing loon getting in everyone’s way because they decided they had the right to stand at the head of the race.

With a couple of minutes before the off I caught eye on quite a few other Kenilworth Runners, some of whom had higher expectations of how they would race than others. I wished them all luck and, with a minute to the off, truly focused on the race ahead.

At exactly 9:30 the gun fired and we were off. It only took around 15 seconds to cross the start line but it felt like an eternity. Richard and Chris were clearly peeved at this and set off on a mission, darting left and right to pass other runners and assume their rightful positions in the race. I did a little bit of the same but was a little more cautious, I too felt I was being held up, but a quick look at my Garmin showed we were averaging 5:30 in those early stages – that was quick enough for me and I was actually grateful I was unable to go off as fast as maybe my body would have liked. I made that mistake at the recent Peterborough parkrun and blew up in the final stages. Hopefully this enforced slightly more reserved start would pay dividends come the closing stages.

We soon navigated the roundabout that contained the car park where my car was and onto the road I had warmed up on not long ago. The section that followed, from there, to around where my Garmin flagged one mile, was probably my favourite moment of running to date. Here I was running fast, surrounded by people in front, almost as far as the eye could see, and behind, to either side spread along the width of a wide dual carriageway, We were all running fast, yet silently. With no traffic and precious few spectators, the only sound that could be heard was the pitter-patter of hundreds of runners, all seemingly striding in unison. It was an ethereal moment. I’d run in large groups during races before, but usually during a marathon or maybe a half marathon, where runners were, understandably, running well within themselves. Here everyone was running nearly flat out, it felt how I imagine it must be to be in a horse race.

I went through the first mile in 5:35, fast, but crucially some 24 seconds or so slower than my opening mile at the ill fated parkrun, so, in the scheme of things, comfortable. The ethereal nature of the race was broken not long after when the race took us through the carpark of an out of town shopping complex, complete with some poorly placed and not well highlighted sleeping policemen. It barely slowed us, but it felt a little odd at this, one of the country’s premier road races, for us to be utilising a car park.

Not long after rejoining the main road I passed another club mate, Pete Matthews. He has improved year on year, but I was surprised to see him this far up the field, as his target was a 37 something 10k. Maybe it was birthday exuberance or how he prefers to attack races, I wished him well as I passed him and continued on. The second mile was 5:31, quicker but still comfortable.

The third mile was a bit of a shock as it contained something of an uphill drag. Nothing too difficult to slow too much, but enough to make itself apparent. I was under the impression that the race was pancake flat and here it clearly wasn’t. Whilst I cursed the climb it was obvious, as the lead runners began to pass me on the return home, that the climb would be a pleasant descent not long after.

The third mile was a 5:38, not bad considering the climb, and I passed 5km in approximately 17:30 – just 10 seconds outside my 5k PB. Metres after this split it was a sharp U-turn and the return home. Feeling good and strong I made a conscious effort to increase the pace a touch, feeding off the energies of the runners behind me I began to pass on the opposite side of the road. I began picking off runners ahead of me, but unlike most races where running at this pace would see large gaps between groups, there were no gaps to be seen.

I passed the fourth mile in 5:29 and spurred on by this quickest mile yet continued to pour on the coals, revelling in the perfect conditions and the quality of the field around me. I passed through the fifth mile in 5:24 and although I started to feel just a touch tired I was spurred on by the thought there was just over a mile left to run. I was also spurred on by my Garmin Virtual Partner, who was set to run the 10k in 35:00, and I was around 20 seconds up on him. Just one more mile at this pace and a new PB would be mine!

The end of mile 6 saw us leave the flat road and onto a slip road that took us briefly up onto a ring road. This was a pretty short, but steep, climb, not before used in the race, and thought to cost as much as 20 seconds. Undeterred I pushed on almost oblivious of the climb, passing 6 miles in another 5:24. Coming off the ring road and swinging right towards the finish line I caught sight of the finish line and gave it everything to ensure that I would break 35:00 on the clock, let alone by chip time.

I crossed the finish line in around 34:50, stopped my Garmin, which read 34:34 and I was simply elated. Thirteen years in the waiting, I had finally broken my 10K PB, the PB I’d considered to be my strongest as it was set when I was in the previous peak of my powers. I couldn’t help but throw a few fist pumps as I made my way out of the finish area, forced along by an insanely loud PA system.

I met upon Richard and Chris, who had both broken 33 minutes, both clocked PBs and Richard indeed set a new club record. Both though looked as miserable as sin and I struggled to reconcile with them – telling them quite bluntly to ‘Get over themselves’. Maybe its because I’m a fair few years older than them that I’ve learnt to cherish a PB no matter if it wasn’t quite what you are hoped to achieve. When you are punching at this sort of weight it won’t be long before those PBs become very hard to achieve, so enjoy them whilst you can.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. We went off on a two mile warm down, cheering on some of the slower runners as we passed. We then enjoyed a meal at TGI Friday’s trying our best not to let on that it was Pete’s birthday for fear of a waitress attack of Happy Birthday singing and dancing. I soon had to say my goodbyes and hot foot it back home to work on the US GP. I was lucky not to be held up on the A1 by a crash – I’d pulled off at the last minute before the tailback, and followed my nose to rejoin the road around 10 miles further south, where mercifully the traffic was clear. I’d barely pulled into my drive and my phone was busy with requests to get on with my work – my success would have to be enjoyed another day.

Me, Richard and Chris
Me, Richard and Chris

POSTSCRIPT

I knew I’d put in a strong performance, it transpired that it would statistically be my best ever to day, scoring a WAVA score of 80.98%. It was the first time I’d broken 80% –  a goal I’d targeted for some years and was thrilled. I also knew it was a strong field, I didn’t realise that I’d been part of one of the deepest quality road races in Britain for many a year – finishing 242nd or so. Thankfully Athletics Weekly saw fit to publish all finishers who broke 35 minutes – a mere 250 of us!

Split Summary
===
1) 1m – 5:35(5:35/m) 166/172bpm 91cal
2) 1m – 5:31(5:31/m) 174/177bpm 97cal
3) 1m – 5:38(5:38/m) 175/177bpm 99cal
4) 1m – 5:29(5:29/m) 176/178bpm 98cal
5) 1m – 5:24(5:24/m) 176/177bpm 97cal
6) 1m – 5:24(5:24/m) 176/177bpm 96cal
7) 0.31m – 1:36(5:07/m) 180/181bpm 29cal