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Archive for the ‘race reports’ Category

I knocked over another long standing PB this past weekend.

A 35:00 at the Telford 10k on Sunday displaced the 35:04 I set at the Rainbow Chickens 10k in Johannesburg in 1995 (No hyperlink? Damn right no hyperlink. Weblinks for race results in the 90’s are rarer than a sighting of Enrique in shoes).

I took a lot of satisfaction in my 36-year old self dishing out a hiding to my 19-year old self.

The race was recognised as being a fast course, with two laps, pretty darn flat. Although not pancake flat I must add. I went out fast, too fast really, but then you have to don’t you? First mile in 5:17 (hello!) and then settled in more or less at 5:30-5:40 pace.

Halfway, 5k, in 17:06. The sub-35 was still on.

On the second lap my fast start caught up with me and I couldn’t keep my legs turning over quick enough. I knew I was slowing down but I just hung in there trying to lose as little time as possible. I knew it was going to be a mighty close thing breaking 35, but I thought I had a few seconds in the bag. I didn’t. I got to the 200m to go sign, looked at my watch and saw 34:26. Shit. This meant I needed to run the final 200 in under 34 seconds to break 35 minutes. I dug in and went for it.

In the end, obviously, I ran exactly 34 seconds to run exactly 35 minutes.

Mile splits went: 1mi 5:17 (5:17), 2mi 10:58 (5:41), 3mi 16:39 (5:41), 4mi 22:13 (5:34), 5mi 28:13 (6:00), 6mi 33:55 (5:42)

So it’s a 4 second improvement, and like I said earlier, taking down a PB that has stood for 16 years is a heap of satisfaction-pudding.

Youth, pffft.

I have a pretty bad facial expression in this photo, but I like it because you’re supposed to look like crap at the end of the hardest 10k race you’ve ever run. I also like it because it has my name, position and time on it, which is a nice touch for a free race photo (they are rare these days too). So thanks to the race organisor and the race photographer.

 

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Oceans11

 

It began at 4am on Tuesday 19 April. Bidding farewell to the wife and one daughter (the other fast asleep at home) at the airport, I set off in search of the fabled southern tip of the planet’s most interesting continent. I arrived at said location about 17 hours later. But not before I had exhausted all “new release” options on the inflight movie channels.

I met up with my South African family and spent a few lovely days with them, before my running partners arrived from Johannesburg and scooped me up, at which point I began a four day adventure that consisted of eating out at a lot of nice restaurants, staying in a lovely B&B, running a bit each day (and a LOT one day – more below), and just generally being on the receiving end of any and all “pom” related gags. And believe me there were a lot of pom related gags going on. Let’s just say health and safety in South Africa appears to be lagging about a decade (and perhaps two) behind Europe and leave it there.

RACE DAY.

My alarm went off at 4:50am. First thing I did was check the weather forecast. It was 6 degrees. No danger of overheating just yet! I rolled into my usual pre-race routine, coffee, shower, race kit on, coffee, breakfast and get the hell out of dodge. Barrow, my B&B roommate, had been struck down by man-flu in the lead up to the weekend, so very sadly (but sensibly – H&S) decided the only option was a DNS.

I met fellow Hajjim Sandalboy (Eric) and Simone at breakfast and after some brief formalities including telling each other how fat they looked, we trotted off to the start together.

There were some emotional moments at the start line. Sharing the pre-sunrise darkness on the road with 8000 other runners, listening to the national anthem. It was a goosebump moment. I felt good, I was ready to roll. The gun went and we were off.

My race plan was to run at a specific effort rather than chase particular splits early on. I set off and settled into an effort level I felt comfortable with. As it turned out this was about 4:25 to 4:30 per km. To break 4 hours I needed it to be 4:10 to 4:15. So with each passing km marker I was accumulating time that would be next to impossible to jettison on the hilly second half. My chest felt tight during those first 10km and I was coughing quite a lot. I had only finished my antibiotics on Thursday (two days ago) and I realised I was not yet 100%. Nonetheless I decided to carry on and hope that it didn’t get worse. I knew if I needed a dropout point (disaster) I had Barrow and PQ standing at the 12km mark and again at the 26km mark. My coughing and spluttering didn’t get any worse, but didn’t go away either, for the next couple of hours.

I was clicking away the 4:25’s quite comfortably now and was grateful for all the training miles in my legs and the strength they had given me, so that, even with the flu remnants, I could still get the job done. Halfway (28km) came in 2:05. If there had been any last lingering thoughts of breaking 4 hours (and getting a silver medal), then it was at this point that they faded away completely. The course profile (flat first half, big climbs in the second half) means that running a negative split is pretty much impossible, and even maintaining the same pace over the second half is almost unheard of.

The first of the climbs is Chapman’s Peak, which tops out at about the 32 or 33km mark. The scenery is breath-taking. A cliff falls away to the Atlantic Ocean on your left hand side throughout the climb. My legs were feeling good at this point. The relatively slow pace I was running didn’t seem to be challenging them. Around the 25-35km stretch I was tempted to push on. The words of warning I had received a number of times in the last few days were going through my head: “The race only starts at 42km”, “Contantia Nek will blow you away” “save your strength” etc etc. I heeded their warning and held back.

Coming off Chapman’s Peak the course takes you into Hout Bay and towards the 42.2km (standard marathon) mark. On the descent down Chappies I caught and passed Sandalboy. SB had also targeted sub-4 before the start and has set off at target pace from the gun. He looked to be struggling when I saw him and told me to carry on when I pulled up alongside him. We had a brief chat wherein  I used some colourful language to describe my current views on the sub-4 challenge. Then I took his advice and moved ahead. That was the start and end of the battle to be first Hajjim home.

From Hout Bay and the marathon mark (which I hit in 3:13) onwards I simply felt stronger and stronger. The fabled Constantia Nek couldn’t do any damage to my legs. I ran strongly all the way up, passing people continuously. I began wondering why the hell my chest had had to play up in the earlier sections of the race. I was full of running now. I crested the Nek at 46km and picked up the pace to the 50km mark. My split was 3:51.

The final 6km felt like a bit of a roller coaster, albeit with a lot more down than up. I kept the pace going and sped up some more for the final 2km, both of which were under 4 minutes. As I ran onto the field towards the finish, I saw my Dad, my sister, my brother-in-law and my niece all shouting for me. I felt fantastic. A few yards further on were the non-running Hajj crew. Barrow, PQ and Keli were all cheering me on. Thanks for the support guys! I crossed the line in 4:17:22. Not even close to sub-4 but I felt like I had just had one of the best running moments of my life. I loved every step of the race.

I met up with the family and we took some pictures to remember the day. Then we all went and found Barrow and the gang, and we waited for the others to come in. Sandalboy ran 4:41 I think and Adam ran 4:44ish. A great run on his debut. And congrats to SB for getting his permanent blue number for completing his tenth Oceans. Simone was next home in 5:54. A solid run given his preparation. But not solid enough to avoid him being crowned the 2011 Beer and Chicken Bitch.

The rest of the day was spent, swimming (more like an ice-bath), showering, and enjoying some fine KFC and cold South African lager. In the evening we headed out for a few post-race beers. It was great catching up with old friends. A brilliant day all around. Thanks guys.

I missed Bec and the girls a lot while I was out in SA. I am sure everyone was getting sick of me talking about them, texting them, and video-skyping them, but frankly I don’t care. :-). They are the reason I am running the best times of my life right now and they support me 100% in every aspect of the racing and training. Next time I come out to run they will be with me.

And with the extra oomph they provide on race day, that stinking sub-4 barrier had best be looking over his bony shoulder.

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aka The Ashby 20 Mile Race 2011

Yesterday, the family, my running mates, and I headed down (up?) to lovely Ashby-de-la-Zouch for their annual 20 miler.

It’s a two lapper, roughly 10 miles per lap. I say roughly because you actually run about a mile to get to the start of the loop, so probably two laps of roughly 9 miles each I guess.

Gracie and Niceguy picked me up bright and early. Gracie literally bouncing up and down in his seat, as is his penchant for pre-race jelly babies…

We got there; got our stuff packed away and prepared to set off. Niceguy all the while telling us how little he wanted to be there and how unfocussed he was. Yeah yeah Eddie…

Gun went and, with my “PQ mantra” of first mile slower than target pace (6:26) fresh in my head, I clocked the first mile in 6:02. In my defence it is downhill.

What was my plan? Well last year I ran 2:13 (and went on to run 2:59 in London). This year I was looking for 4 minute kays (6:26 miles) which would see me through halfway in 64:20, and completing in 2:08:40. It might seem optimistic to aim for a time five minutes quicker than last year… But I felt it was on the cards, given my higher mileage this year – in preparation for a lovely 35 mile (well, 56km) sojourn around the southern tip of Africa next month. The Two Oceans Marathon on Easter Saturday in Cape Town. This was my curtain-raising test run if you will. I wouldn’t be running this long in a race again until the big day.

After the too fast first couple of miles, I settled into a rhythm and clicked off the miles in the 6:20-ish window. The course is fairly hilly (also good training for Oceans, which is even hillier) so my splits were varying, but as long as I was in the window I was happy.

Approaching halfway is great because:

  1. You’re nearly halfway
  2. Bec, Jodie, Abigail, Aunty Judy and Google were all standing somewhere between the 9 and 10 mile markers and it KICKS ASS seeing them when I’m racing.
  3. Bec has a tasty bottle of Lucozade for me. (I was my usual organised self, and hadn’t actually figured out any drinking plan on route, other than that they only had water at the drinks stations, so I might need something more…)

 

I cruised through halfway, grabbed my Lucozade, high-fived the girls and motored off. My split was 1:03:26, so with even halves I could hope for 2:06:52. Very nice.

The early part of lap two seemed harder than it should be… so I eased off and the splits slipped a bit into the 6:30’s. The legs also felt a bit heavier than I would have liked. But I reminded myself that I had done some heavy training in the past two weeks that was no doubt still in my legs, and also that if I was going to try and run 35 miles in a months’ time, my legs should shut the hell up and get on with it. I regrouped after a mile or two, and started opening the effort tap a bit wider going through 14, 15, 16 miles. I was catching people all the time now and each time it spurred me on, because no-one wants to be the idiot who tears past people only to have them trot back past you a mile later. From 15 miles on, my splits were all under 6:20, with my final mile in nice tidy 5:50.

With two miles to go, I thought there might even be a 2:05 on the cards, but the little climb back to the finish (once you leave the loop) was too much and I couldn’t quite step it up sufficiently to run a 2:05 something.

I finished in 2:06:06. A PB by a touch over SEVEN MINUTES. So how could I be anything but very happy? I was very happy with that.

(If 20 miles is foreign currency to you, it’s a 2:05:24 32km)

After finishing 12 minutes behind Niceguy last year (2:01 against my 2:13) I thought for sure I would have closed the gap this year. Nope, he only went and ran an eight minute PB with a 1:53. Incredible Banks, incredible…

Gracie, having just got back into training following some pesky foot nonsense, packed away a solid 2:22, keeping his London ambitions firmly on track.

As usual Bec and the girls were super start supporters. Aunty Judy and Google chipped in too.

After the race we all went for a pub lunch in Ashby, to celebrate our runs, and my imminent birthday. (The pub was called The White Hart, but thankfully wasn’t full of noisy Spurs fans…

Thanks guys it was an awesome day.

Here are my splits:

  Time Mile Time Projected Finish Time      
1 00:06:04 00:06:04 02:01:20      
2 00:12:25 00:06:21 02:04:10      
3 00:18:58 00:06:33 02:06:27      
4 00:25:22 00:06:24 02:06:50   1st 10 01:03:26
5 00:31:36 00:06:14 02:06:24   2nd 10 01:02:40
6 00:38:11 00:06:35 02:07:17      
7 00:44:33 00:06:22 02:07:17   1st 5 00:31:36
8 00:50:58 00:06:25 02:07:25   2nd 5 00:31:50
9 00:57:01 00:06:03 02:06:42   3rd 5 00:31:51
10 01:03:26 00:06:25 02:06:52   4th 5 00:30:49
11 01:09:39 00:06:13 02:06:38      
12 01:16:12 00:06:33 02:07:00      
13 01:22:37 00:06:25 02:07:06      
14 01:29:12 00:06:35 02:07:26      
15 01:35:17 00:06:05 02:07:03      
16 01:41:33 00:06:16 02:06:56      
17 01:47:48 00:06:15 02:06:49      
18 01:53:58 00:06:10 02:06:38      
19 02:00:16 00:06:18 02:06:36      
20 02:06:06 00:05:50 02:06:06      
             
  Ave 00:06:18        

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Half life

Knocking big chunks off PBs is not something that happens to me very often. Generally speaking, I am past the “big improvement” section of my running career.

However, yesterday at the Birmingham Half Marathon, I did exactly that.

Before the race my half marathon PB stood at 1:20:12. I wanted to break the 80 minute barrier quite badly. (I first ran an 81-minute half marathon in 1993 – so had been staring at the 80-minute door for quite a while…)

After yesterday’s race my PB was 1:17:36. 🙂 What more can I say? Lots probably, but I’ll try not to. In a sentence: I went out sensibly, sped up a bit in the middle (not sure why that happened), then slowed down towards the end before managing a glory-hunting, final mile sprint down Broad Street. I would say it went perfectly, aside from the slight wobble between miles 9 and 11, but in my defence they were mostly uphill.

Our club had an excellent day out. First home was the legend that is Paul. 67 minutes in his first ever half marathon. What?? And he’s only 18. Next up was my training buddy Niceguy Eddie, who smashed his 75 minute target with a low 74. (His current form could have seen him a minute or two quicker, but he had some hamstring issues towards the end of the race and had to remove one of his legs and run with it under his arm, from what I heard). Next home was Matt, an 800m man, doing a nice gentle 76 minutes. Then there was another club mate who I don’t know, and then me. Richard just behind me in 78 minutes (coming back from injury) and Mr Dependable, Andy, running a solid 80 minutes and change. So we had 7 guys home in 80 minutes or quicker. Stand back Oregon Track Club, here comes Birmingham Running Athletics and Triathlon Club (that’s not a mouthful at all).

Here are my splits:

Mile       Time                 Split
1          00:05:42        00:05:42
2          00:11:37        00:05:55
3          00:17:31        00:05:54
4          00:23:25       00:05:54
5          00:29:17       00:05:52
6          00:35:02       00:05:45
7          00:40:32        00:05:30
8          00:46:41        00:06:09
9          00:52:39        00:05:58
10        00:58:46       00:06:07
11        01:05:30       00:06:44
12        01:11:37        00:06:07
13        01:17:04       00:05:27
13.1    01:17:36       00:00:33

Ave pace 00:05:55 min/mile
00:03:41 min/km

I came 56th (out of just over 11000 finishers).

Here are the full results.

Thanks to my support team, brilliant as always. Bec, Jode, Abs, Jon&Teri. And Gracie. (Although next time Gracie, get your shoes on and come racing).

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A racing summary

Summer means races. Short races, fast races, lots of races.

The European track season must be one of the athletics highlights of the year. This year’s newly launched diamond league has been producing some great times. Notably in the 5k (Kipchoge’s 12:51 in Doha) and the 800m (Rudisha and Kaki), the race of the season to date, both men running low 1:42s. Wow!

But enough about greatness… lets look midpack again. My post-London racing has gone well enough. Here’s the lowdown.

I got stuck into a 1500m just a week after the marathon and managed 4:36 on some tired legs.

A week later, in my first veterans only meeting I took a few seconds off that, running 4:32 for 2nd place. Here’s my “Once a Runner”-styled race report. I got to the track about an hour before the race. I went and met the team manager and got my vest and numbers for the night. Then I headed back to my car, got into my warm-up kit and jogged out of the car park. Not knowing the area I didn’t want to venture too far out and settled on a simple mile-out-mile-back warm-up. I got back to my car, stretched, and checked my watch. Twenty minutes to go. Perfect. There were some nerves no question, but more in excitement than the usual feeling of dread that precedes a 1500. I got into my racing kit and laced up my spikes. I went over to the 1500 start line and dropped my jacket on the outfield. There were a number of other obvious middle-distance types milling about not talking to each other. Some were in pairs and by contrast chatted loudly to each about their season to date or what they planned to do tonight.

I started my stride-throughs, the same old routine, 100m steady, in the direction of the race, 100m jog/walk back along the along the back straight. Three sets of these, some more stretching and I was ready to roll.

I looked at the other competitors; some looked very ready and sharp enough to sprint at a moment’s notice. Others, particularly those wearing racing flats instead of spikes, looked less threatening. Stick with the plan I reminded myself. The plan was 4:30 pace, which meant splits of 72, 2:24 and 3:18 at the bell.

The starter called us to the line. This was it. Once more into the breach. There was a big group – 24 runners. Biggest track race I’ve raced in. Don’t worry I thought, your speed will get you clear of trouble. (I hoped). The gun went and we set off. A runner burst clear over the first hundred metres. I sprinted the first 50m or so to get some space and then settled in behind the guy in 4th. There was a lot of bustling going through the first lap, “69…70…71” called the timer as we went through 400m. Bit fast but ok. The first lap is for free anyway. The guy I was shadowing started to falter so I passed him and latched onto the guy in third. Still too slow I thought, so I moved past him onto the second-placed guy’s shoulder. He seemed strong and was getting lots of support. Local guy I thought. He’ll be tough to pass. The leading guy now had about 60m on us so there was no race on there. 800 in 2:24 exactly. I had lost time but was now on pace. The next 300m to the bell were slower but didn’t feel slower. With 500 to go I moved into lane 2 and passed local-guy. The chips are down now I thought as I took the bell in 3:22. I had lost too much time to break 4:30 but I had my hands full with local-guy who would not let go. 300 to go, Maintain maintain maintain. 200 to go. Push now. Go. Sprint, leave nothing in the tank. I had been redlining for at least a lap but now I needed even more. My lungs were burning and I was aching everywhere but I had confidence that I could raise a sprint. I didn’t want local-guy coming past me in the last 15m. I took off and sprinted with everything I had down the home straight. His steps got fainter and I knew he wouldn’t catch me. I crossed the line in 4:32.2 for 2nd place. Handshakes to the winner (4:25ish) and to local-guy when he finished. The familiar taste of blood in the back of my mouth.

Minor chit-chat as we walked slowly back to where we dropped our kit. I managed a one-lap cooldown and that was it. I got into my tracksuit, sent a text to the missus to let her know how I had gotten on, and drove home. The End.

A few days after that I ran in the national masters road champs. My second veteran’s only event, this time on the road. It was a three mile course and I was blasted off the park by the depth of the competition. I got dragged along to a 16:16 which, as I’ve never raced 3 miles before, was a PB :-).

Three weeks after that I raced a 3k at a local meeting hosted by our club. I was targeting 9:30 and managed 9:25, after some help through the middle sections of the race by a friend from one of our local rival clubs.

The day after that I competed in the next meeting in the veterans only track league, trying an 800 this time and getting 2nd place again (losing to the same guy who won the 1500 last time). I was handed a massive rude awakening into how unprepared I am for racing 800m! I was targeting 2:10, and got nowhere near, running 2:14.4.

A few days after that I ran a local fun run that I’ve been meaning to run for years. 6000 runners take part, and many more try to enter but get turned away. This year we were organised and managed to enter in time. The wife, father-in-law and a couple of friends were all running as well, so it promised to be a good day out. Being a fun run, the quality runners were not really there and I somehow stole third place. It was 8.5 miles which I covered in 49:40. I got interviewed afterwards and got my picture in the local paper. Pretty cool – and not something that really happens to people my speed. Imagine a big race environment, fenced off areas in the city centre, TV cameras, pace cars, officials everywhere. And then for some reason everyone is much slower than real elite athletes. It really felt like a once in a lifetime experience. Crowds lining the place from start to finish. Once the race got going, there were huge open stretches of coned-off tarmac for the throngs of runners about to get there, but completely clear, except for the two runners ahead of me and the a pace car. I could read the running time on the pace car clock all the way through the race, which was a rare treat. I had gone out pretty hard and was in 3rd place before the second mile. From that point on I was mostly running scared and hanging on as best as I could. I was convinced someone or a group of people even, was going to come storming past me all race long. But it didn’t happen and I held on for third.

In the following week I ran the first of the 5k road races hosted by our club. Probably too much racing in the previous week had taken the zip out of my legs and I struggled to get going, especially when the going got tough. I tried to dig in on the second of the two laps but found the well was dry. It happens. I finished in 16:58 for 13th place. I suppose a positive spin on that is that it ties my best time on that course, but I’d really love to have found another 5-10 seconds. Maybe next time!

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Saturday 17 April 2010

If ever you need putting in your place, there are a few events that will help you out. The national cross country champs is one. The national road relays champs is another.

The 12 stages are divided into 6 long and 6 short, alternating. The long stage is 5.4 miles, the short is 3 miles.

I ran leg 11 which is the last of the long stages. The course is on the roads and pathways around Sutton Park and, lets be honest, is a bitch. The first mile involves a sharp downhill, twists, turns, doubling back, disappearing into the woods and a lovely climb complete with 3 distinct houses of pain, roughly in that order. And that’s the first mile. To be fair, the rest of the course is not as bad, but invariably by the time you summit the triple-headed monster you’ve not got much in the way of “something in the tank”, and you basically hang on as best you can for the next 2 miles (if you’re lucky enough to be on a short) or just over 4 miles (if, like me, you have been “selected” to run a long one).

This year to date I have been focusing on base work and mileage and consequently my race-sharpness was non-existent. In fact I couldn’t really tell if I was putting in a race effort, so long has it been. Whatever, I felt strong out there if a little “rudely awakened”. My time was 31:35 which ain’t setting the world on fire I’ll admit, but is sub-6 miling (5:50s to be exact or 3:38 per km if that’s your flavour).

So where did it place me? There were 404 long stage runners on Saturday and my time put me joint 301st. I’d be a weak link in three-quarters of the teams taking part. In fact I’d struggle to be the mid-pack slacker I claim to be.

Still, the thing with relays is that they are, well, relays. Individual performances don’t mean much, team performances are what counts. And as small fish in a big pond we did ourselves proud. Our best showing in many years. 40th out of 62 teams.

We’re BRATS now by the way. Birmingham Rowheath has merged with our triathlon club to form one big, confusingly-named-but-theoretically-stronger club

40 Brats 4:47:25

Martin Matthews (38) 28:24

Anthony Gray (34) 15:30

Edward Banks (44) 31:45

Chris Horton (46) 17:23

Richard Gray (45) 31:34

Andy Kenchington (45) 16:47

Patrick Allaway (45) 31:57

Matthew Bayliss (43) 16:09

Guy Evans (43) 31:35

Mark Hirsch (42) 17:11

Mark Ince (42) 31:35

C Lindesay (40) 17:35

Full results

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Ashby 20

Sunday 21 March 2010

 Over the longer stuff, and by longer I mean upwards from half marathons, I have not had much success with executing pre-race strategies. In fact up until yesterday I had had NO success at all.

It was my first race as 35 year old (was I older and wiser? Who am I kidding). Sadly though, this race only had veteran categories for 40 and up. It was also potentially my last race in the old Rowheath colours as we are switching to new kit aligned with our new club as from 1 April. More on that merger in another post maybe…

So the coach (my wife) had come up with a foolproof race strategy. Easy first couple of miles, then slot into 6:45 (target marathon) pace and run as big a chunk of the race as possible AT THIS PACE. No giving in to temptation and pushing harder, no matter how good I feel. Assuming I still had the legs, the final part of the plan was to cut loose from the 17 mile mark. So that was the strategy. Simple.

Armed with one other piece of wisdom, from a running friend, PQ, who is the guru when it comes to judging pace in a long race. She has a rule that the first 2km must be equal to or slower than target pace. So I decided that my first two miles would be 7 minutes or slower each. The gun went and we were off. First mile…6:18. I cursed out loud and announced to the runners around me that the first mile was definitely short. No-one said anything. I didn’t panic though and pulled it right back for the second, which was just shy of 7 minutes. After that I spent the rest of the first lap (it was a two lapper) concentrating hard on not messing up the pace by going too fast but also not overcompensating and taking it too easy and ending up running 7:30s or something.

The first ten went by in 67:37 which is pretty darn close to the 6:45 pace I was after. Bec and the girls handed me a lucozade at halfway. On the second lap I was tempted to push on but restrained myself, repeating in my head what Bec had told me the day before. “You need to know what 6:45 feels like. Run as much of the race as you can at 6:45.” At the 16 mile mark I subconsciously started to speed up in anticipation of the 17 mile mark where I knew I was allowed to kick for home.

And that’s pretty much how it went, with the final four miles being my quickest of the race.

I ended with a 2:13:16 (or a 2:12:35 if 32km is your preference. The organisers had marked the 32km point – very handy for the metric-heads).

Job done. I finished 35th overall which was fitting I thought, as a 35-year old…

My training partner, Nice-guy-Eddie (formerly racing-snake-Eddie), had a storming effort, coming home in 2:01, finishing 6th overall, picking up prize money on top of winning a lucky draw prize, and generally making a mockery of my carefully executed 2:13…

He and his fiancé did bake some lovely cupcakes for us all to enjoy on the way there, so we’ll let him off.

Joking aside, an outstanding performance from Ed. If he keeps improving at this rate, well who knows where he may end up…

Some splits from my race:

Splits:   Pace/mi
1st 10mi 01:07:37 00:06:46
2nd 10mi 01:05:39 00:06:34
     
1st 5mi 00:33:37 00:06:43
2nd 5mi 00:34:00 00:06:48
3rd 5mi 00:33:55 00:06:47
4th 5mi 00:31:44 00:06:21

 

The full monty, if you just cant get enough:

Mile Split Cumulative
1 00:06:18 00:06:18
2 00:06:47 00:13:05
3 00:06:57 00:20:02
4 00:06:53 00:26:55
5 00:06:42 00:33:37
6 00:07:01 00:40:38
7 00:06:48 00:47:26
8 00:06:51 00:54:17
9 00:06:32 01:00:49
10 00:06:48 01:07:37
11 00:06:39 01:14:16
12 00:06:58 01:21:14
13 00:06:46 01:28:00
14 00:07:00 01:35:00
15 00:06:32 01:41:32
16 00:06:47 01:48:19
17 00:06:21 01:54:40
18 00:06:22 02:01:02
19 00:06:16 02:07:18
20 00:05:58 02:13:16

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