Posted on

Race Report – Sleaford Half Marathon – Sunday 5th May 2019

Nearly a month had passed since the Manchester Marathon but all the indicators in the weeks in between suggested that it was taking a while to fully recover from the exertions in that race. I focused more on cycling than running through April, plenty of time on Zwift and a couple of club rides with Witham Wheelers. This was mostly because the sciatica issue in the left hamstring took around 10 days to fully disappear and then the less severe issue with the aching left hip took the best part of the month to subside to next to nothing. Coupled with a couple of runs where I got the weird quad ‘cramps’ that I’ve been afflicted with for years now, I don’t think I did any real speed work at all – save for one brick 5K run following a club ride where I bizarrely ran my fastest ever for the oft run loop (Averaging 5:53 per mile), despite having felt thoroughly exhausted for much of the week beforehand.

I went into the Sleaford Half Marathon with the knowledge that I had managed to finish second there in 2018 in very warm conditions in a pretty quick time. With much better conditions forecast and hopeful that I had more or less recovered from Manchester, I was cautiously optimistic that I could run a half decent time. The pre-race build up was wholly unspectacular, a mile and a half around the rugby pitches which were notable only for feeling a lack of zip and a bit of a snotty nose.

GRC before the start of the race. Picture c/o Gordon Geach

As I lined up for the 9:45 start, there was a bit of nervous chatter on the start line as one runner, who is best described as a novice who perhaps shouldn’t have been up on the start line itself, began happily asking everyone around them what time they thought they would run. I said I wouldn’t mine running around 1:16 but I was tired from Manchester. This prompted a guy in some form of Nike Vaporflys to state that he too had run Manchester, had gotten a PB of around 2:36 and was looking to run a 1:13 PB today at Sleaford. It turned out that was Wayne Lathwell of Lincoln Wellington AC, who when the starting horn was fired, looked true to his word and set off at a pace that was certainly unattainable, let alone unsustainable for me.

With Wayne off into the distance and indeed heading to a 1:13:11 PB which secured a comfortable victory, within half a mile I found myself in joint second place with a runner I recognised having competed against numerous times before – Stephen Dickens of Rushcliffe AC. I had a quick glance around and found that we already had a sizeable gap over the nearest runners, perhaps as much as twenty seconds. I knew then that, barring disaster, second or third position was on the cards.

The first mile was spot on what I’d hoped for at 5:40. Half a mile or so late, feeling comfortable and, to be honest, a little bored in the race already, I began chatting to Stephen – something I very rarely do in races. I commented on his trainers, recognising them to be the Nike Vaporfly 4%s, and asked how he felt they performed. He explained that he was still getting used to them. He’d run a 5K in them the week before and said they felt quick but odd.

A little while later as later as we climbed the biggest ascent of the race (A bridge heading over the A17) it became clear that Stephen had got used to his Vaporflys as he began to slowly, but inexorably, disappear into the distance. Powerless to go with him, I resigned myself to a long lonely run to the finish. There was no-one behind me as far as the eye could see so all I had to motivate me to keep the effort going was the prospect of a quick time and a good age grade at an event that was a round of the club’s Grand Prix Series.

The remainder of the race was, frankly, dull. I ran the opening 5K in 17:45, slowed slightly to 17:56 through the second 5K and slowed a little more to 18:10 for the third 5K. I was struggling a little bit on three counts: 1. I felt still a little jaded from Manchester. 2. The winds, although not strong, were troubling in an area on the edge of the Fens. 3. My stomach was cramping alarmingly, perhaps the result of a short return to to experimenting with taking on beetroot juice before a race (I’d also tried this at Retford).

Happy at 9.5 miles that I wasn’t going to be caught by anyone, I opted to dive through a hedgerow and have an emergency pit stop on an edge of a field. I think I only lost 25 seconds or so, returning to the race vowing to never take on beetroot juice before the start of the race again. Feeling more comfortable I ran the final 5K in 18:15 (Sub 18 removing the pit-stop) crossing the finish line third in 1:16:22.

At the time I was pretty disappointed with this – it was around the same time (If you remove time taken by the side of the road) as in 2018 but conditions then were far worse. I think in tip top shape with good weather this is as quick a half marathon course as anywhere in the region and it’s a bit of a mystery why so relatively few runners take part in the race. I got to chat to Stephen at the end of the race who had set a new PB of 1:15:30 and he reckoned that the Vaporflys were worth at least a minute over the half marathon. Given that Wayne too had flown (Albeit I don’t think he was rocking the all singing and dancing model) and I’d seen also Vince at Manchester and elsewhere, plus Jonny Palmer of Bourne/GRC break 2:40 at London a week earlier, both do wondrous things in these shoes, I pretty much decided then that it was time for me to join the arms race and look to get a pair of carbon shod shoes.

Me and Tony Johnson with trophies at the Sleaford Half Marathon.

Content that I was the winner of the non-Vaporfly race by two and a half minutes, I hung around for the presentation, a touch disappointed that third place wasn’t rewarded quite as well as they had been in 2018. A quick photo with the incredible Tony Johnson, who won his age category with his highest ever age grade a week after going sub-3 at London, and it was time to head home, where bizarrely I opted to totally exhaust myself by doing a 35 minute full gas TT on Zwift, which left me wondering afterwards whether I could have pushed just a bit harder a few hours earlier…

 

 

Posted on

Race Report – Retford Half Marathon – Sunday 10th March 2019

The second of two planned half marathons before the Manchester Marathon and the last race before the 26.2 mile jaunt around the streets of Greater Manchester. The intention for this race was to run it as a 90-95% effort – harder certainly than at the Leicestershire Half Marathon which was run at marathon HR, but not absolutely flat out bearing in mind the need to continue marathon training immediately after the race and mindful that there had been no taper before the Retford Race.

There certainly was no taper, indeed the weekend before saw the biggest weekend of training of the year – the Saturday had me up and running at 6:20am to run 21 miles, including the hilly Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon course, completing that just in time to take part in Belton House parkrun, which I managed to complete in 17:54 before running 2 1/3 tough miles to run 26.4 miles in 2:55:46. Then the next day I ran a half marathon training run in just under the 90 minutes, including a 5:58 final mile to ensure I just ducked under that time barrier. The rest of the week was fairly easy running except two days later I had a 10 mile run with 7 miles at marathon pace, which I found hard going and included a weird spell of tightness in the left hip and glute which soon eased off but, in hindsight, was an indicator of  some trouble that lay ahead.

In stark contrast to the year before, winter 2019 training had been relatively mild and dry – the odd bit of short lived snow and the odd cold morning, but nothing too harsh. Arguably the worst weather of the winter / spring actually came on the morning of the Retford Half Marathon, I woke early with the temperatures hovering around freezing and snow threatening. Indeed in surrounding counties snow had apparently fallen and settled, making driving treacherous. Thankfully as I drove up the A1 to Retford the rain occasionally turned to sleet but no snow fell. There had though been an awful lot of rain, which I found when I took on an easy two mile warm up that saw me having to skirt around some very large puddles. Very strong winds were also predicted, although I was mercifully spared these (a moderate to stiff breeze) until an hour or so after I finished.

Arriving extremely early (Over two hours before the 10am start) to ensure that I could utilise the car park right next to the start line and not have to use one some way away, I had plenty of time to kill, so spent plenty of time chatting to a few GRC members, visiting the toilet numerous times and generally killing time. At last the time came to race, I made the very short trip from the sports hall of the school to the start line and waited for the off.

Seven of the eight Grantham Running Club members taking part before the start. Picture c/o Rick Dobbs

It’s  a bit of a weird start at Retford. You run away from the main road for only a matter of 50 meters or so before doing a big U-turn around a roundabout, doubling back on yourself and passing the start / finish line before heading out of the main entrance and taking a left turn to skirt around the edge of Retford town centre. With the tarmac slick it was a little nerve wracking getting around the corner without slipping, but I was safely around and quite soon into my running.

The field was a fairly good quality and I had quite a nice group to run with for the opening miles (the first mile made easier by a tailwind) before it thinned out considerably. The first couple of miles were solid – 5:44 and 5:46. I then had the first twinges of something amiss going on with the left leg. I felt a sharp pain radiate down from the middle of the hamstring down into the calf muscle. It didn’t last long and didn’t particularly slow me but it was unnerving. It happened again a few minutes later and proceeded to do so every few minutes or so for the entirety of the race. I was pretty sure it was a sciatica like issue so tried my best to ignore it and focus on the running.

Mile 3 slowed a touch to 5:48 and I went through 5K in just under 18 minutes. We were running along the old Great North Road, which was pretty straight, just about a neutral side wind and pretty flat aside from a bridge over the mainline railway. The weather took a turn for the worse with cold rain beginning to fall. I persisted wearing the sunglasses as I do tend to suffer with streaming eyes on cold, breezy, mornings, but I did get the odd comment here and there from spectators questioning whether they were needed.

More troubling was that the cold rain and wind with temperatures only around 3°C was that I was beginning to get cold. The upper half wasn’t too bad as I had opted to run with a thermal headband, thermal base layer and short sleeved club top. I was wearing my usual Skins compression cycling length shorts (Bought specifically for such weather after suffering badly at the Newton’s Fraction in 2017) and thick calf compression guards, but this wasn’t enough for the quads especially to start icing up. 

Miles 4 and 5 remained  consistent – 5:51 and 5:49. Up to now we had been running on good quality A roads. Indeed what I took from the race afterwards was how high grade the roads were and what good value the race was at £18 to have such roads mostly closed to traffic. The sixth mile saw us literally take a turn for worse – a sharp left into a narrow country lane just before we reached Toworth. As they had warned us before the start the heavy overnight rainfall had left a section of the course flooded and it was here where we were faced with a stretch of around 100 meters around a corner where we were faced with the choice of either running through ankle deep water or risk ankles and limbs on the grass verge beside the road.

The runner ahead of me opted for the grass. Seeing him struggle I opted for the flooded road after just a few strides myself on the grass. This proved to be quicker as I caught him and soon past him, but it did leave me with soaking wet trainers. The sixth mile was a touch slower at 5:53, the undulating seventh mile was a fraction slower again at 5:54. This part of the course had us back on an A road and featured a dead turn at seven miles where we would head back and past runners coming in the opposite direction for mile 8. It was here at some point I spotted the rapidly improving GRC runner Ian Williams who was running his first half marathon in a couple of years and looking to significantly improve on his 85 minute debut. I did some mental maths and reckoned he was on for something around five minutes faster, which is what we had estimated beforehand.

Going through the 8 mile marker in 5:50 the ninth mile was mostly downhill and was a touch quicker at 5:48. Having enjoyed a mile of watching runners head in the opposite direction I was now running alone, with pretty much no-one as far as the eye could see in front of me and no-one directly behind either. By now I was not feeling great. The cold, wet conditions, the cold my daughter had passed on to me and probably the mileage in the week before was beginning to take its toll – mentally perhaps more than physically.

Mile 10 had us briefly back on the old Great North road before heading right onto the Old London Road. This proved to be a tough old slog. There was a steepish ascent up and over a railway bridge which was followed by a very gentle climb that went on for the best part of two miles. Not being able to push on the pace slowed a touch – 5:58 for mile 10 and 6:08 for mile 11 before the twelfth mile saw me rally slightly with a 5:52, thanks wholly to the last third of a mile being significantly downhill and aided considerably by the westerly wind blowing directly on my back.

This wind and the descent was so much of a help I the pace was under 5:30 for the a fair chunk of the final mile, before it took a hit with the little steep rise I had rehearsed during my warm up. Just as in my warm up we had to run on the pavement here as the busy A road had not been closed to traffic. This wouldn’t have been an issue were it not for a number of pedestrians and their dogs going for a leisurely stroll, most oblivious to the race taking pace, making for some hairy dodging as I tried to maintain the pace to the finish line.

Battling to the finish line. Picture c/o Rick Dobbs

With a 5:44 final mile I sprinted as best I could back to the Academy and the finish line, clocking 1:16:56. Although I would have liked to have gone a bit quicker I was content with this considering how cold, wet, and somewhat miserable I was during the race, with the added hindrance of the leg pains shooting from hamstring to calf. Half marathons in the middle of marathon training are often curious affairs. They can often prove to be the fastest of the year thanks to the mileage volume in the legs or the hardest, sometimes the slowest, thanks to the mileage volume in the legs.

Straight after the finish I headed back to the Academy entrance to see Ian come home in 1:20:41, I hung around a bit longer to see Tony, Holly, Joss and Sam finish before I opted to retire to the gymnasium to warm up and prepare for a warm down. Thanks to some efficient production of results on a notice board I found out I had finished sixteenth, and I had come second in the V40 category, again things I should be pretty pleased with really.

The warm down however turned into something of a disaster! Feeling the left calf tighten, I stopped to perform a hamstring stretch which saw the whole leg tighten enormously with pains shooting down the leg. I then proceeded to hobble the remainder of the mile in over nine minutes before making it back to the car. Thankfully after a lot of massage in the next few days I was able to start running on the Wednesday, although I only ran once more on the Friday – this being more due to working crazy hours for the Australian Grand Prix!

 

 

Posted on

Race Report – Leicestershire Half Marathon – Sunday 17th February 2019

The second race of 2019 was the first of two planned half marathons I’d booked ahead of the Manchester Marathon. They were both rounds of the GRC GP Series, but this race I had always earmarked as the one where I would run the vast majority at my planned marathon heart rate. Therefore I went into the race with low expectations on time and finishing position. Those were even lower in the days leading up to the race when, after a month of solid training, I was struck down with a short flu like illness the weekend before which had me not running for the best part of five days and on my return feeling distinctly sub-par to the extent that I bailed on the Thursday night club run at seven miles when running at 8:12 pace proved too challenging.

I’d not run the first edition of the Leicestershire Half Marathon. I’d heard mixed reviews regarding the course (and the wind especially) but was willing to give it a try. Taking place at Prestwold Hall near Loughborough, the race makes full use of the racing / test circuit on the grounds that ensures traffic-free roads for much of the race. Thankfully to break the monotony the race does break free from the grounds to run on regular roads (And a farmers’ track!) for the middle third of the race before returning to the grounds for the final third. As I’ve run most of the Formula One circuits many times in my previous lifetime as an F1 jet-setter I am well used to running on wide open circuits which to some are pretty boring, but for me will always be something of a thrill – even if this circuit has little in the way of heritage.

Having arrived over two hours before the start and having made myself familiar with the start, I performed a wholly unremarkable two mile warm up on part of the circuit. Conditions were set fair for the race, sunny and pleasant for racing at around 8C. Only a breeze, stiff in places, would hinder progress although, it should be said, it was nothing compared to what I had faced at Oundle a few weeks earlier. After the calamity of the Nike Free’s laces coming undone in that 10K race I was back in my trusted Hoka Cliftons, albeit in a new pair of Clifton 4s that I had only run in a couple of times before and, if all went, well would be reserved as a race pair rather than doubling up for training runs.

I lined up a couple of rows back from the start, keen not to get swept up in the melee from the gun. Having heard that the favourite for the race had run 66 minutes a week earlier in Spain I knew this wasn’t ever going to be a race I was in contention of winning but my mind was purely set on seeing how quick I could go with the restriction of running at my marathon heart rate limits.

The start, outside Prestwold Hall itself, is a curious affair on fairly deep gravel, with a couple of tight turns before heading on a tree lined road that takes you out to the main entrance. I think I was probably just inside the top twenty at this point, spending more time checking the heart rate on the watch than who was around me. We briefly left the grounds and ran on a closed public road for a few hundred meters before returning to the grounds alongside the disused air strip that had been turned into our car park for the race.

The opening mile was pleasing at 6:04 considering I’d been able to keep the HR well below my limits and it had featured a short climb. I felt a little stiff but with certainly none of the ill effects of being unwell the weekend before. The second mile saw a 5:56 and the heart rate creep up to the maximum of 165 bpm. With my old Garmin watches I’d always turned off the HR alerts as I found them intensely annoying beeping constantly the moment you exceed the limit until you returned to normality. The 935 (and I imagine many of the other similar more recent models) does it a little differently in that it appears to give 20-30 seconds grace when a HR limit is exceeded before beeping and vibrating once with a warning showing you what your heart rate currently is before returning to the usual screen and only beeping again 30 seconds or so later if the HR is still high. This for me was quite tolerable and beneficial in that I didn’t have to be spending quite so much time staring at my watch checking I hadn’t veered into the red.

Somewhere along the course!

From miles 3-11 it was a case of running as close to but trying not to exceed 165 bpm. It felt quite weird that I was paying no attention to who I was racing around me. If I caught someone but the alarm went off I slowed until the HR recovered and I resumed racing. Without even realising it I had passed quite a few runners but had no real idea where I was in the race as the field was pretty spread out. I enjoyed the route on the racing circuit, even if the route was a little convoluted at times. As we were changing direction fairly frequently we weren’t exposed to the headwind for too long a period, which helped keep the pace fairly consistent. Miles two to five were 5:56, 5:54, 5:55, and 5:57.

The fifth mile was partly along the aforementioned farmers’ track. Rough and uneven it was thankfully dry and compact – it would have been really tricky had it been wet and muddy. We left the grounds for the run down to Wymeswold and then up to Hoton and back to Prestwold. This was enjoyable enough, mile six (6:03) was one of the slowest of the race as it featured a climb and I was forced to slow when the HR crept up. With that inconvenience out of the way it was back to pleasingly swift sub six miles – 5:56, 5:55, and 5:58 for miles six through to nine. At around eight miles we were back at Prestold Hall being taken once again on a magical mystery tour of the multi faceted venue, passing an HGV driving school, and a solar panel farm frequented by sheltering sheep before returning to the race track we had run on earlier in the race.

Mile 10 at 6:10 was the slowest of the race, purely because most of the mile had been run into the headwind. I was helped here a touch by catching another runner who I was able to shelter behind before pulling clear as best I could when we turned a corner and was free from the headwind. Mile 11 was back to sub six with a 5:55, then 5:50 for mile 12 as I caught and passed another runner.

The final mile I decided to abandon the HR limits and run as hard as I could. The reasoning twofold – firstly to simulate the final 10K of a marathon where I also abandon HR limits and secondly because my watch had me coming in just outside 78 minutes and I decided sub 78 sounded a whole lot nicer. With the extra few beats of power available I powered to a 5:40 final mile and a 5:06 final burst to the finish line (Which was hard work on the gravel!). The finishing time: 1:17:44. Finishing position – no idea!

Crossing the finish line sub 1:18!

Aside from a smarting big left toe (Which all but seized up when I got home – turned out to be a problem with the shin) the run had gone far better than expected, and with all but the final mile at marathon HR was most encouraging for Manchester in six or seven weeks time. I sensed that I felt pretty comfortable for the entire race and that something at that pace was potentially feasible for the full 26.2 miles.

With the marathon in mind I went on an extended 5 mile warm down to make it 20 miles for the day. I ran some of the course again catching up with some of the GRC contingency who were taking part and still running. I felt comfortable right until the final half mile when I felt compelled to take on one of the peanut butter gels they handed out at the finish and, as I tried to prise the peanut butter from the roof of my mouth for several minutes after, soon realised why peanut butter gels hasn’t really caught on as a concept.

With the warm down done I headed back to race venue to see the last of the GRC runners in. It was there I was informed that I had wound up finishing eighth overall and first V40 runner! I genuinely had no idea I had placed so highly and was pretty chuffed with myself, especially as I hadn’t focused on the race element at all.

With eight of the GRC crew outside Prestwold Hall after the race.

I had missed the prize giving, or maybe it didn’t happen. The prize was a little underwhelming – free entry to the 10K race taking place at the same venue in October. I’m half tempted – some really didn’t like the course at all but I enjoyed it and would consider racing there again. As for here and now though it was back to the training and looking ahead to the next race.

Posted on

Race Report – Keyworth Turkey Trot – Sunday 9th December 2018

There’s not many Christmas themed races that you can stake claim to having taken part in twice in one year, but the Keyworth Turkey Trot Half Marathon is one such race that I and, I assume plenty of others, can claim to have done in 2018. The 2017 race was postponed to February due to snow/threat of snow in the region and I took part in the rescheduled event, finishing 6th overall in 1:18:06 and recipient of a hamper for my efforts.

I went into the 2018 proper version of the race feeling distinctly jaded and glad it was to be my final event of the year. With that said I didn’t make a bad start to the race, with opening miles of 5:42, 5:41 and 5:54 before hitting the first big climb of the race which saw me drop to a 6:04 before recovering with a pleasant 5:36 on a quick section of the race.

The first mile of the race. The most people I’d see in a while. Picture c/o John Oldfield.

The race, for me, was a fairly dull affair. I never found myself in a group, for the most part running alone, never being passed by another runner and the only interaction with other competitors when I passed the occasional athlete who was beginning to struggle. I made a point of trying to stick to around 5:50 miles which I was able to do until the second wave of stiff climbs at mile 11 on a constantly undulating course, which saw the pace dip to 6:14, then 6:08 for mile 12.

I did though catch a couple of younger runners at this point. My presence seemed to spur them into life for they drifted away again on the downhill drop back into Keyworth before I closed in on them again on the deceptively tough last half or mile or so back to the school and the finish line. Alas any hopes of picking off a couple of young scalps receded quickly as they both put in  a sprint finish I had no hope of  matching and didn’t really attempt. It was the end of the year, I wasn’t fighting for a place or a prize and I was pretty jaded.

Coming into the final mile of the final race of the year. Picture c/o John Oldfield.

I crossed the line annoyingly just outside the top ten (11th – I did have something to fight for). The time was 1:17:27, just under 40 seconds quicker than I ran in February and the second fastest trot for me. Maybe it was another underwhelming post race memento (Magnetic race pins – soon lost) or the instant realisation I’d not won a turkey (third V40) but I felt very little emotion after the race other than I was glad it was the last of the year. I could have done with a month’s rest or so but, alas, as I was now down to be running the Manchester Marathon (April 7th) rather than the London Marathon (April 28th), downtime was going to be minimal before the whole process began again.

With some of the GRC Gang.

Postscript!

Thanks to a lovely kind gesture by GRC champion of age grade Julie we did have a Keyworth turkey for Christmas dinner! She had won the V65 category but had already planned on something else for Christmas dinner. So it was that a week or so later a trade was made and I had turkey!

Posted on

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mile 13 – Mick Hall Photography in the usual spot!

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

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

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

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

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