Yorkshire marathon race report

My first visit to York was as a kid, when my parents took me to the Minster. I started crying because it was so dark in there and it scared me so much they had to leave. My Dad still winds me up about this now, even in my forties!

I don't why I decided to enter Yorkshire marathon. I wanted an autumn marathon that wouldn't cost me too much (ruling out Chicago). I'd run a couple of the Tomlinson events before and thought they were decently organised. I go to York quite a lot for meetings and thought, that looks like a nice place to run. I've been to the races in York, and had quite a fun weekend. Maybe I wanted to give the Minster another chance. So I entered as soon as it was announced.

The race rapidly became my target for the year. Supposedly flat and PB friendly, this seemed like a real chance to make a dent in my marathon PB. I was bit worried about running a smaller marathon in rural areas, as I thought that there might be long stretches where I was running alone with very little spectator support.

We arrived at the University for the start. I headed straight to the toilet queue before going to drop off my bag. The queue for the bag drop was worrying long when we arrived, and not moving at all. It didn't seem likely I'd have time to drop my bag and get to the start pen, but then after a few minutes the bottleneck cleared and the queue started to move quite quickly. After dropping off the bag, we then had to make our way through the narrow bridge walkways of York's lakeside campus, which made for a lot of congestion. Initially I thought that we would never get off on time, but somehow, miraculously, we made it through to the pens with time to spare.

As far as my sub 4 plans were concerned, I'd decided to follow the 3:56 pacer. As I was queuing for the toilets pre-race, Beloved went on a fact finding mission to spot a good post-race meeting point. He returned to tell me that he'd seen the 3:56 pacer, and he looked rough. Beloved reckoned he'd been out the night before and wasn't to be relied upon. I think this was all part of a strategy to relax me, as when I was in the start pen, stood by the pacer, Beloved started miming necking pints, then pointing to the pacer, which had me in fits of giggles and really took the edge off my pre-race nerves.

Before

And then we were off. The race defied the weather forecast and turned on the sunshine. We all banged down the downhill from the university with the pacer but as we hit on the first bit of flat, I decided that I didn't want to stay with the pacer. I felt it was too fast for me, and I didn't feel comfortable at that pace. So I eased off about 10-15 secs and felt immediately at ease. I managed to stay really consistent with my pace, knocking out very even splits. The plan was working.

Running through central York was a bit of a mix. As we ran through the shopping area, most of the people watching were just a bit bemused about how to get across the road, and there wasn't much noise for the runners. Then we turned towards the Minster, and it all changed. There was a massive crowd, making a significant noise, and the bells were ringing out for the runners. I had my first little cry here, I found the bells quite emotional - it just felt like the city itself was cheering me on. Obviously the Minster wasn't holding my childhood hissy fit against me.

Running through York's surrounding villages, the locals really turned out in force to keep us going. I needn't have worried it would be really lonely out in the countryside - there was support at every village, and even at points in between.

Happy at mile 5

Every now and again, I felt the odd twinge in the left ITB but was able to manage it by changing my stride slightly, moving to more steps per minute. This immediately eased the pain, so I tried to stay with the quicker turnover, and it still felt comfortable.  At mile 14, I was well on target for a sub 4, with a bit of wriggle room. I felt properly good.

Then it all went wrong at the mile 15 water station. My pace always eases off at water stations, otherwise I get quite windy, so I tried to push on a bit a few 100 yards after I'd finished my drink, and my left leg just went. Everything above the left knee went into meltdown - my quad, my hamstring, my hip. It was like a mass muscle tantrum. It was a slight incline so I thought I'd just ease off a bit and pick up when we got back on the flat, but my leg had other ideas. There was no picking it back up.

I saw Beloved again at mile 18, and gave him the double thumbs down. But he shouted back that I was only 2 minutes off my time, so I tried to push on. It was just not happening, my leg would not work. I was dragging it like Igor in Young Frankenstein. At about mile 19, a woman slowed beside me to check I was ok. She was also struggling and we shared our leg pain woes. But we plugged on.

I did all the mental calculations - was it a problem that meant I should stop? Or was it just one that needed me to slow down? I wasn't in agony, my left leg was just seizing up, so I plugged on, trying to inject spurts of (relative) speed as often as possible. As long as I didn't stop, I could make it. The miles ticked away, slowly. By the time I reached mile 23, the last point where I knew I would have moral support, Beloved said it was obvious my leg had just given up, that I was dragging it along. But he kept these thoughts to himself and cheered me on. By now, my pace was so slow I might as well have been walking it!

It was such a strange marathon. The first 15 miles were pure fun, I felt on top of my running game. The rest of the race was not about me anymore, it became about the support. It took every ounce of mental strength I had to keep running, albeit slowly. When it became obvious I wouldn't make sub 4, I tried to make sure I would get a PB. And when it became obvious that a PB wasn't going to happen, I had to make sure I finished and got a medal for this ordeal. I don't think I could have managed it without the spectators and the marshals. In the last four miles, it seemed that everyone I passed shouted my name and gave me encouragement. I haven't experienced personal support like that since my first marathon in New York in 2009. Maybe it's just places that have York in the name that really get behind people in that way, but it made all the difference. In mile 25, a woman spoke to me with such warmth, I burst into tears. Not sad tears, but grateful tears.

Unhappy at mile 23

Then I saw that last hill, and I felt like crying again. What evil organiser puts a hill in the final mile? A Yorkshireman of course. At the top of the hill, a woman told me it's the only hill in York. I wonder if she thought this would make me feel better? She was wrong!

After cresting the top of the hill, my legs cruelly decided that they would respond positively to a final push and I sprinted down to the finish, trying to get done as fast as possible. A photographer snapped me just as I was grimacing, and we had a bit of a laugh about how much I would hate that photo. As I came to the end, and the announcer read out my name, all the disappointment about my time was replaced with a sense of satisfaction at finishing my hardest marathon yet.

I can't lie - I was gutted not to finish sub 4. But I had kept myself going by telling myself I had run a marathon, which is more than most people had done that day. I just felt relieved to have done it at all. Stubbornness always beats disappointment in my world!

In a last ditch attempt to cheer me up, the organisers had given us some Seabrooks salt and vinegar crisps in the goody bag. I couldn't have been happier if I'd found 10 £50 notes in there. It was the final Yorkshire touch.

Where did I put those crisps?

I'd definitely recommend the marathon for future years. It wasn't pancake flat, and putting the worst hill in at mile 26 is pretty cruel, but it was worth doing it for the support along the route. I'd been worrying for nothing. Old York can give New York a run for its money.

Disappointed with my time, but delighted to finish

I will do that sub 4 one day - I feel confident from my first 15 miles. If I stay fit, I can make it. Particularly if there are crisps at the end!

Don't panic

It was all going so well. My 20 milers were under my belt, and my last run before the Yorkshire marathon taper was the Ealing half marathon. I had a great race, with a significant PB, but it wasn't all plain sailing.

At about mile 11 in Ealing, I got a pain down the outside of my left knee. Recognising it as a 'not stopping' pain, I carried onto the finish and headed home as soon as possible to start recovery. I had run a lot of miles in my last high mileage week and ran a fast (for me) half marathon, so I knew I needed to look after myself. The knee continued to hurt going down stairs for a couple of days, so I tried to stay off my feet as much as possible.

A couple of days after the half, after the pain had completely gone, I went out for an easy 4 miles. Except only 2 of them were easy, the other two home were painful. This knee thing was not going away. I decided to rest. I wasn't panicking yet.

After no pain for a few days, I went out again for a couple of easy runs on the Friday and Saturday. No issues, but both were short-ish distances. On the Sunday, I attempted my last significant long run - 12 miles. All went swimmingly for 10.4 miles, I felt good and I was enjoying my running. Then, bang, ouch went the knee again. Luckily I was near enough to home to divert and get back as soon as possible. 

I was panicking a bit. I thought I recognised the pain as an ITB related issue, from my experience in VLM 2012 on the other leg. And a session with the amazing Simon Lamb sadly confirmed it. 

My knee essentially is the mouthpiece for the rest of my lower body, saying 'please can we stop now, it's been a very busy year?'. Unfortunately, while I sympathise hugely with my body, it's timing is lousy. Could it not keep its tantrums in check until after the York marathon? 

I've now not run for over a week. Just rest, stretching and some very painful poking to release my trigger points. I miss running, but more importantly, I miss the feeling of being prepared for my marathon. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. But I'd be lying if I said I was totally panicking either.

I have spent the last few weeks of my training desperately trying to talk myself into a 'can-do' approach.  I've had a few bad moments out there in training this summer, a few meltdowns, a couple of quitting incidents and many, many doubts. Yet my running and my pacing has stayed sound, so I've tried very hard to focus on the mental side of things, with little inner pep talks to remind me that my negative thoughts are the only thing stopping me from running a sub 4 round York next week. 

So now, when a physical problem presents itself, I almost feel liberated. At first my negative side went, 'ooh, goody, an excuse not to have to attempt sub 4 hours'. But then my positive side said, 'sod that, misery guts - I desperately want a sub 4 hour and I've never been so close to achieving it'.

I'm not panicking yet. My mind is stronger than a bit of tendon. Other, more expert people, are helping me treat the physical side of things, but I'm the only one that can treat the mental side of this. So I am staying positive. I've been using all the extra time I used for running to stretch, poke, think about stretching and poking, and work out how the hell I am going to get to the start on race day.

Trying to stay positive, I tell myself I'll be well rested on marathon day. My legs and joints will be slightly undertrained, but not fatigued. That this lay-off might actually increase my chances of a sub 4hr marathon. 

On Saturday morning TV, I heard the former heptathlete Denise Lewis say that she hadn't trained for 9 weeks before she won her gold medal due to a ruptured achilles. Yet she still won gold, because she'd worked so hard and so long before her injury.

So I need to remind myself I've run over 970 miles this year. I've run my long runs at the required pace. I've run my training races at the target times. I was on this over a week ago. And I'm not going to let a little extended taper keep me from giving my sub 4hr marathon my best shot.

The moment of truth will be tomorrow, when I go back for a sports massage and we see just how much happier my ITB is that it was over a week ago. But for the moment, I'm still running York and I'm still gunning for sub 4 hours. Wish me, and my left leg, luck.

Ealing half marathon race review

Today was the second running of the Ealing Half marathon. The first event in 2012 was a massive success, with slick organisation and a testing route. Described as undulating, many runners argued that it was actually 'quite hilly'. With a slightly altered course from last year, due to works in one of the local parks, many of those who were running it a second time were hoping for a few less undulations to tackle.

This is the second year in a row I've run the Great North Run and Ealing within a fortnight of each other. Great North Run is always my half marathon priority and I am usually desperate to get a good time there. But last year I PBed both races, knocking about 15 secs off my GNR time at Ealing two weeks later. So I decided I would try and achieve the double PB again this year, as part of my York marathon prep.

Unfortunately, Ealing half marathon coincided with my planned last 20 mile training run before York marathon so I'd rejigged my schedule to run 20 miles on Tuesday and use the 13.1 miles of today's race as a final quality workout before I started my taper. I was a bit worried about the extra miles, but I'd done it last year without side effects, so just made sure I worked hard on the recovery on Tuesday and Wednesday to keep me race ready.

I'd reviewed the route map beforehand and thought this year's new course might actually have one more incline than the inaugural route, but I knew it was a drag caused by a railway bridge rather than a hill. Plus it was a road I'd run several times over the year in training so I wasn't too bothered. Also, I noticed that the hills were nicely spread out, with some flat, recovery, straits to get everybody's wind back before the challenge. And of course, a nice flat, finish for the last 3 miles. I felt confident about the course. I just needed everything else to come together.

The pre-race atmosphere was relaxed - it's the Ealing Feeling. It's not often I get to start a race just 10 minutes walk from my house, so instead of having to spend ages in a toilet queue I was able to meet up with a couple of friends who were also running. Everyone was relaxed and looking forward to getting started. I'd decided that my main goal was to enjoy it, to relax and not worry too much about time. But despite this, I found myself heading into position in between the 2:00 and 1:50 pacers, not-so-secretly aiming to hit sub 1:55 again. So much for relaxing!

Then we were off - running along a road I run regularly as part of my training, but this time not worrying about the traffic. The local support was out in earnest, with signs and banners right from the start. We Ealing residents love a bit of free outdoor entertainment of a weekend and it showed today. Families had set up water stations outside their houses, kids were ready with the low fives and people were hanging out of their bedroom windows to cheer us on. Due to the early start of 9.15, Ealing also has the highest number of pyjama-clad spectators of any race I've ever run.

The organisers had gone out of their way to make this a welcoming race. The route was peppered with signage welcoming runners from other countries, each country getting their own sign. There were also lots of signs wishing various runners happy birthday - I really hope the birthday boys and girls saw their names in the right place. This was a lovely addition to the course, and really brought home the community ethos of the race.

Thankfully, the weather today was a million times better than a fortnight ago. I didn't have to worry about rain-slicked road surfaces today, although I did have to dodge an awful lot of spit! There seemed to be loads of people who were doing projectile spitting along the route, particularly in Pitshanger Park just before halfway. In fact there were so many spitters in the park, I started to wonder whether it had been designated a special spitting zone. Spitting is never ideal, but there was so much of it going on, it was starting to get a bit unpleasant.

 

I bumped into a couple of other runners I know mid-race, which is always a treat, and the Beloved cycled round most of the course and provided support at about 6 different points en route, giving me a major boost. I'd managed to get into a good rhythm quite early on. For a couple of miles I was worried I was going too fast but my Garmin said otherwise so I relaxed into my pace and pressed on. I tried to make sure I didn't lose too much speed going up the various hills but focused on maintaining the effort. And I was enjoying it. There was a great vibe all the way round, people running with their mates, spotting their friends and neighbours and getting cheers - it was a lovely race to run. All the churches on the route had laid on extra cheer squads and refreshments, and around mile 10 there was a massive cheer squad with music. I chuckled when I heard Billy Ocean's 'When the going gets tough' blaring out of the speakers, and I was starting to feel quite buzzy.

I didn't pay too much attention to the later mile markers, because I was happy with my pace and I knew exactly where I was, so the mile markers seemed irrelevant. It was only as we turned into the side streets at the end of the race, streets that I run a couple of times a week, that I realised how close we were to the end. I looked at my watch and saw I was well under 1:55 timing. Then the 12 mile marker loomed up and I decided to make this PB the best it could be.

The benefit of running a race on roads you know well is that you know how far you've got to go (I guess this could be a negative too). As the race finishes in the park that underpins my training, including intervals, I was on very familiar ground. I knew when to push and when not to push. And I knew, despite my Garmin having a little nap about the distance, that the time on my watch showed I was comfortably into PB territory. I saw Beloved just after the 13 mile marker, and he shouted 'sub 1:53'. So I went all out for a sprint finish, to make sure I hit a time beginning with 1:52 for a change.

For once, I remembered to race over the line before I stopped my watch - a really bad habit I have picked up over the last year - which probably saved me a couple of seconds. I was done, and I was delighted. I was even more delighted when I got my medal - a really fabulous design, so unusual. We also got a commemorative picture to mark the day. I don't know what to do with that but it's a nice touch from a local artist.

Ealing does the best medals

On the whole, my splits were very consistent

This brings me safely under a 1:55 time and gives me a lot more confidence about my sub 4 hour marathon target in 3 weeks. I know I've still got to deliver the combination of pace and stamina on the day, and keep the negative thoughts out of my head when the going gets tough. But I'm starting to believe I can do it. And that's more than half the battle won.

There's more to life than London

Today is the day that the Virgin London Marathon accepted/rejected magazines start to arrive. Over the new few days, ballot entrants will find out whether they are the lucky few to get through this year. For those who paid the fee in advance and are entitled to a 'rejected' jacket, there might even be an added visit to the local sorting office to pick up an oversized parcel that came while you are at work. Talk about adding insult to injury.

My Twitter timeline is a mix of elation and disappointment today, with the odd dash of frustration at the ballot system. Under the old sponsors, Flora, entrants who applied several years in a row but were unlucky were entitled to guaranteed entry after 5 attempts. It's the same for the New York marathon ballot. But that arrangement ceased when Virgin took over London.

I've had the rejected magazine on previous occasions but I'll admit I'm one of the lucky ones this year, I've got a place. But I won't be entering the ballot again - this will be my final attempt at London for the foreseeable future. I'll be leaving my ballot space open for someone who have never run the race before, and hope they get their chance.

For me, there are just too many other marathons to do, too many other cities to visit. As I sat on the bus from Edinburgh Airport yesterday, on my way to a meeting, I realised that I really want to run Edinburgh one year.  I also want to run Manchester after seeing the amazing medals they gave out last year - I'm all about the race bling! So I need to stop attempting to run London if I want to make either of these my spring marathon.

Then there's Seville or Marrakech. There's Barcelona, Copenhagen or Paris. And Rome in the spring will always be worth a visit. Closer to home, Brighton is fast becoming a must do race on the UK calendar.

And if you're speedy, there's iconic Boston to try for. I would love to be fast enough to attempt Boston and I live in hope that I can maintain my current marathon pace long enough to make GFA one day.

If you're one of those runners that knocks out a marathon every weekend, then perhaps you can fit in London and all of these others. If you're like me and can manage a couple of marathons a year without provoking divorce or redundancy, then you have to choose.

I know London is iconic and I understand that if you run marathons, you want to do it. I felt exactly the same. It's an incredibly well organised event, with great support from the city. But there are others that will ensure you have an amazing experience and it's not the only marathon.  It's not even that nice a medal.

And there is one positive about not running London in 2014 - you'll be able to come down and cheer Mo Farah along in his first attempt at the London marathon.

How to make it through the week before your first half marathon

With my local half marathon, Ealing, coming up next weekend, lots of my friends and neighbours are embarking on their first distance race. It's really interesting to see what worries them about the race, and what they think they should be doing in the last week before the race.

When I first ran a half marathon in 2008, I didn't know anyone who ran races. I hadn't discovered running blogs. My only source of information was the Runners World website. I've been thinking a lot lately about what I would have liked to have known before I raced 13.1 miles for the first time, and here are a few tips that you might find useful in the run up to race day.

1. Don't do anything stupid
This is not the week to clear out the loft, dig up the garden or use that voucher you got for your birthday to go Zorbing down hills. If your kid's party has a bouncy castle, leave it to the kids to play with. This is the week to take it easy and put your feet up as much as possible.  When you get in from work, break out that box set you've been meaning to watch and relax. You could do a Bradley Wiggins and get your other half to carry everything for you all week, but that might be going a bit far. Just no heavy lifting, no running down stairs and, guys, no new high heels, ok.

2. You're as ready as you can be
You haven't run the distance so it's natural to think you're not ready. It's an unknown quantity. You might be worried you haven't trained enough because of a foot injury two months ago, or because your training was interrupted by a cold a few weeks ago, but it doesn't matter now. This is not the week to fit in loads of miles because you're feeling fit and healthy. You can't benefit from long mileage this week, in fact, just the opposite. You need your energy for race day. A couple of short, easy runs will be enough to remind your legs how to run. And definitely no running Friday and Saturday before the race. That 50th Parkrun will just have to wait.

I know what you're thinking "I'm not ready - just one more long run'. But you don't need it and you shouldn't do it. Do not go out and do three 8-milers this week in an attempt to be race fit.
Trust me, if you're bit short of training, the worst that will happen is that you won't be able to run it as fast as you'd like. This is fine. This leaves lots of room for improvement in half marathon no 2.

3. Eat well, but not too well
Just because you're relaxing doesn't mean you should rely on takeaways and fast food all week. Eat sensibly and healthily, with plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. Don't try any new foods after Thursday, and make sure you cook everything thoroughly during the week. This is no time for food poisoning.

You don't need to live on pasta all week - other carbs like potatoes and rice are good too. And you don't need to carb load for days on end. You're running a half marathon not a full marathon, so just eat three meals a day and make sure there's carbs in all of them on Friday and Saturday. Maybe add an extra banana, some Jaffa cakes or a slice of sponge cake on Saturday. If you're too nervous to eat much the day before the race, try 5 small carb based meals and sip on carb based drinks. Squash will do. Red Bull is unnecessary.

If you always go for a curry on a Saturday night, please skip it this week. You will not regret it. And the person who has to use the race portaloo after you will be very grateful.

4. Avoid germs
This is tricky, particularly if you commute or have school age kids. If you're like me and don't mind being excessively paranoid about germs, you can avoid all meetings where you have to shake hands with new people, you can aim to get a spot on the Tube where you can lean against something instead of holding on with your hands and you should avoid kissing people with sniffles (or who have children with sniffles).

However, for most people the best solution is to wash your hands as often as possible during the day and evening. You might start to feel a bit obsessive but it's just for a few days and anything to stop you waking up with a stinking cold on race day is worth it. You can go back to recklessly catching germs after the race.

5. Avoid alcohol at the weekend
I know beer is carbohydrate but if you're racing on a Sunday morning, avoid drinking Friday and Saturday night. If you always go out for work drinks on a Friday, why not stick to the lime and soda for a change? If you've got a wedding the day before the race, then that's incredibly unlucky. It's boring but booze does dehydrate you. If you must drink, stick to a sensible quantity (1?) and something you're used to. Unless your usual is a Jagerbomb.

6. Hydrate before race day
Don't get up on race day and neck loads of water. You will just want to pee endlessly before the race and during it. Instead, drink plenty of fluid Friday and Saturday - about 1.5-2 litres, depending on your weight. When you go to bed on Saturday, your pee should be a nice pale yellow. Something like Magnolia on the Dulux paint spectrum.

Everybody will have different fluid requirements on the day, but we can all benefit from hydrating well for a couple of days beforehand.

7. Sleep during the week, not the night before
Don't worry if you don't sleep the night before a race. In fact, I'd be more worried if you slept like a log the night before. Pre-race jitters are absolutely normal, and don't ease off with experience either. Focus on getting an early night Thursday and Friday, so you're well rested before the inevitable pre-race nerves/excitement/adrenaline kicks in. In fact, those jitters will be good for you on race day so embrace them and don't panic.

8. Don't let the weather forecast change your plans
We've had a good summer to train in and the weather has been lovely. But did you watch the Great North Run last week and think 'I better buy a waterproof in case it rains on race day'. Well, don't. Save the money. If you're worried about getting wet, a waterproof won't help - in fact, you'll still get wet but from the inside out as you sweat up so much inside the waterproof. Just make sure that you pack dry clothes to change into after the race, particularly if you plan to head out for a celebratory pub lunch afterwards. And don't forget dry shoes - if it rains, your feet will be the worst hit. A towel or a facecloth can also be useful after a wet race.

If you wear glasses, wearing a cap might be sensible in the rain, but at least try one in a training run first so you can make sure it fits ok and doesn't have any pressure points.

Even if the weather is bad on race day, you will still enjoy the experience. So relax, stick with your planned outfit and make a mental note to rehearse a brolly hat for next time.

9. Nothing new on race day (aka Advice you'll read online and want to ignore but shouldn't)
Don't wear anything on race day that you haven't trained in and know is comfortable. Not even so much as a sock.

The same applies to food. You should have eaten plenty of breakfasts before training runs, and you'll have worked out which ones were digestible and which ones gave you runners' trots. Make sure you stick with a breakfast that has worked for you in the past. Just because you read/hear somewhere this week that someone else swears by Nutella on crumpets or poached egg with Jaffa cakes doesn't mean you should try it on race day. Stick to what you've eaten before. If you're travelling to the race, try and make sure you can have the same breakfast at your destination. Save the food experiment when you're training for your second half marathon.

10. Never underestimate the toilet queue
You will want to go to the toilet before the race. Your debut nerves will put pressure on your bladder, it's inevitable. So leave plenty of time to go to the toilet at the race start. The rule of thumb is - the closer it is to start time, the longer the toilet queue. Sometimes unimaginably long. Don't underestimate your waiting time, and if you're really nervous, allow for two visits. If you don't have to wait long, brilliant - this gives you extra time to soak up the fantastic pre-race atmosphere.

And pack toilet paper, just in case you're at the back of the queue behind someone who didn't skip their Saturday night curry. You can always dump it in a bin if you don't use it.

11. Don't go off too fast/use pacers
If you've consistently trained at 9 min 30 sec pace for weeks, and you find yourself starting the race at 8 min pace, no, you're not going to surprise yourself - you are just going too fast. Slow down.

Running too fast is the factor most likely to ruin your race target. This is not just advice for the half marathon newbie - this is advice for us all. Races are exciting. They start and everyone heads off running full pelt. Many of those will be running too fast. Don't be one of them. Stick to your planned pace and if you're feeling good at mile 8, you have my permission to accelerate and test yourself.

The best thing you can do is use the race pacers. These wonderful people that give up their races to guide you round in a specified time are worth their weight in gold. Want to do 2 hours 15? Then find the pacer closest to that time and stick with them. Even better, introduce yourself and let them know your plans. And when you hit your target time, make sure you say thank you.

12. Plan in advance where your spectators will be
If your family and friends are coming to watch you, get them to decide where they will be in advance and tell you. It is much easier to for you to spot them at a marker than for them to spot you in a mass of people. There is nothing worse than hoping to see a loved one and missing them, so plan viewing spots in advance and stick to them.

13. Don't convince yourself that something is going to be a problem
Is there a big hill you're dreading on the course? Try turning it around and thinking positive thoughts. You've never run this race before, so how do you know you can't do it? Even if you found it tough in training, race conditions are different. You'll have 100s of people to run it with. You can beat that hill, don't let it beat you before you get there.

14. Run your own race
If you've trained with a friend for weeks and you've also planned to race together, then great. However, if you've trained by yourself and you bump into loads of people you know at the start, beware running with them. If all the mums or dads from your kid's school are doing it, ask them what time they are aiming for. And if it's much faster than yours, wish them luck and arrange to meet them at the end.
The same goes for running with your partner. If they're taller/faster/more experienced than you, with a different target, don't start with them as you'll inevitably fall into a faster pace.

The only time you should be running with faster/more experienced runners than you is if they're a pacer planning to run a slower time for your benefit (see 11).

 

15. Savour it
Enjoy your race. You are guaranteed a PB. You will definitely have a brand new experience. You only get one first half marathon so make the most of every minute. You'll have plenty of time after the race to reflect on those things you'd do differently second time around...

The good, the bad and the ugly: Great North Run 2014 race review

Sunday was my 4^th attempt at the Bupa Great North Run. It's become the highlight of my race calendar and it's also a really good benchmark for my training progress, as it's the race I've run most regularly. This year, as part of Operation sub 4hr Marathon, I was aiming for a new half marathon PB of 1 hour 55 minutes.

My highlights were:

The Race – as ever, the GNR is not just a half marathon, it’s an occasion. As well as being a major charity fundraising event, it’s also a significant local event, and is definitely the highlight of Felling's social calendar. This ensures that there is a massive amount of support all the way round, in any weather.  You get the traditional support points (Elvis in a bus stop, anyone?) and, of course, the Red Arrows flypast. In fact, I love this bit so much I have decided I would like the Red Arrows to give me a fly past at all my half marathons. I'd pay a little bit extra if you can guarantee it, race organisers of the UK. Thank you very much in advance.

The costumes – there’s a lot of creativity and boldness in the Great North Run. If you’re running under 2 hours, you don’t get to see quite as many costumes as you do starting further back, but this year I spotted a massive Bagpuss, a male Wonder Woman, the Ugly Sisters, a St George riding a dragon and a group of men wearing nothing more than a pair of Toon Army budgie smugglers. But my favourite was the Tyne Bridge I saw while waiting to start. I only hope the cardboard structure didn’t collapse in the rain.
 

The start - I'd also like to add 'high fiving an Olympian' as a prerequisite to all my races. Ellie Simmonds last year, and now Christine Ohorugu - they are definitely a good luck charm. (Although the cricket fan in me is  secretly a bit disappointed I didn't get to high five Graeme Swann)

The weather – it didn’t rain before the start, and it didn’t rain all the way round, as forecast. And I only got hit by one gust of wind. Result.

My time – I did manage sub 1:55, by a single, beautiful, second. I used a pace band this year, which I've only ever used in marathons before, although I only remembered to look at it after mile 7. I started off fine, but found miles 2 & 3 a bit tough, then recovered and was able to keep going without any major setbacks. My pace was inconsistent, because I decided to just go with the race - some miles were difficult to do fast, as there were so many people, others I ran well under 1:55 min pace. But I just thought it was easier to embrace an inconsistent pace than try and fight the conditions. Physically, I actually felt quite good except for those miles 2 and 3, and I could probably have even done it a few seconds faster, with fewer runners and more positive thinking. Overall the finish time, and how I felt afterwards, has given me a lot of confidence in my marathon training and the progress  I've made in terms of speed.

But it wasn't all good:

My pre-race dinner –I disastrously went to a different restaurant this year before the race. I couldn't face spaghetti Bolognese again so instead of boring old pasta, I ordered steak and chips, which worked brilliantly for me pre GNR 2012, where I scored my first sub 2 hour half marathon. However, the chips were greasy and oily and I couldn’t eat them, so just managed a bit of meat and a mushroom. I'd also ordered bruschetta for starter but the bread was soggy and undertoasted so couldn't face that either. I spent the rest of the evening worrying about my carb intake.

My negative thoughts – I really, really, need to work on my inner voice. According to my pace band, I went out about 20 seconds too fast on the first mile. I panicked, slowing down in miles 2 and 3, where I felt really sluggish. I then spent miles 4 and 5 berating myself for scuppering my time changes by going off too fast. I spent a lot of time telling myself I couldn’t do it, blaming the rain or my pre-race. By mile 8, I was alternating between a positive mile and a negative mile, which was pretty sapping. I know this does not make the task any easier but yet I still do it. Something I need to work on for York, where there are a lot more miles to fit negative thoughts into.

The weather – although not as bad as they’d forecast, it was still a soggy one. I didn’t get rained on until about mile 3 but, boy, did I get rained on. By mile 8, the water was squelching out of the vents in the top of my running shoes, and it was like running in a pair of wet sponges from there. There was a lot of puddles to avoid and weave past. Combined with the occasional severe gust of wind hitting my from the right, there were moments were I thought I might just get the bus to the end. 

Toilet queues - I know races can never have enough toilets but, really, the Great North Run is shocking for toilet queues. I got there at 8.40 and there was still a massive queue. Last year I queued for 55 minutes and I was determined not to do that again, so managed to get there earlier and reduce the wait to 15 minutes instead. But it's not ideal because then you're at the start for too long, on your feet. Not ideal for those who actually want to run the thing.

The congestion – this year there were more starters than ever before – 41000. And it showed out there on the course. In the previous 3 attempts at this race, I’ve never experienced anything like the congestion of this year. It was nearly as bad as the London marathon! It definitely makes it more of a challenge to get through and maintain a pace, and my splits are very random. The runners welfare bikes in mile 10 weren't much help either, weaving in and out of the runners and getting in the way. I’m not sure if it was so busy this year because there were more starters, or because I started in a faster pen. Perhaps it’s because of the chaos at the start pen this year, where some a-hole decided that because he couldn't be arsed to walk to the gate for white numbers, he would lift the crash barrier out of its base and let a massive group of people climb under it.
This made for a massive crush in our pen, a massive amount of tension and loads of arguments. Security took over 5 minutes to turn up and then they must have gone away again, as all of a sudden it started again. Once inside the pen, this guy continued to lift the barriers up for others to climb under. It felt really unsafe by the time we started and it got really ugly for a few moments. I don't think the Great North Run really needs to start on this sour note and the organisers really need to address this better next year, by ensuring that there is plenty of security on the first few pens, not just by the gates themselves.

I'll be back next year again, if they'll have me. Maybe next year I'll be aiming for sub 1:50!

Running the North Norfolk Coast

I had a short break in the UK over the weekend. I don't really do UK breaks. I am a UK weather jinx, ensuring that any holiday taken within the UK will cause rain, snow or unseasonal temperatures. Often all in the same trip. I must have really confused the weather gods of North Norfolk, though, the weather was really nice for most of the time, with glorious sunshine for all but one of the afternoons I was away. I visit 2-3 times a year and I think this was the first time when it wasn't cold or raining. Ha, fooled you, Norfolk weather god!

Even though I was on holiday, I can't really take a break from marathon training. But that was ok, because I knew that there was a coastal path in North Norfolk that I could follow. Our accommodation in the picturesque village of Blakeney was about 100 yards from the path, so there was no excuse but to run it!

On Friday evening, I headed out for an exploratory 6 mile run. Friday late afternoon/early was quite dull and grey, not showing the coastal path at its best. It also meant that no one was out there walking, which gave me 6 miles of isolated running to enjoy. Just me, a tiny frog and a reed warbler (I had to look up the bird when I got back to the flat, obviously - I'm not a twitcher!). At first, it was unnerving being so alone when running. As a London dweller, this doesn't happen very often and usually not for longer than a few yards. So to go 4 miles before I saw another soul was a strange but pleasant feeling. I didn't need to feel scared or threatened (or maybe reed warblers do mug humans, I don't know), I just felt free.

On Saturday morning, it was back out for a longer 12 mile run. By now, the sun was out again, which meant all the tourists and dog walkers were too. So the first 3 miles of the run were definitely not isolated as before. Unlike London, however, people in Norfolk move to one side when you shout 'excuse me'. They share the path, and even smile, wave and say hello. This makes such a change for me from running the Thames towpath, where sometimes people would rather throw you in the river than budge half an inch to the left. By the time I got to Cley, the next village, I was high on camaraderie and neighbourliness.

After leaving Cley, though, the terrain started to change. The path continues along a vast expanse of shingle beach, alternating between the beach itself and a high shingle ridge. Running along the ridge was ok, as the shingle was compacted, but running along the beach was a new and challenging experience. My feet sank into the deep, loose, shingle with every step, so it became a trudge not a run. To make things a even more difficult, there was a strong wind blowing out to sea, so anything the path curved inland I was running directly into a very strong headwind. Pace went out of the window, with all my effort focussed on moving forward somehow. I couldn't even manage to open my gel while running as it was just a step too far - I had to stop dead to open it, then as I sucked it out the wind caught it and blew it all down my front. Ooh, the glamour of marathon training!

Despite this new and entirely frustrating terrain, I was loving it. With the sea to the left, beautiful rolling countryside to the right and a gorgeous blue sky above , who gives a monkeys about pace? I felt so privileged to be able to run that route, to experience such a beautiful part of the world in that way, I didn't worry about my pace. Besides, my muscles were getting a whole new workout and I was getting some 'running into a headwind' training (which I suspect may be very useful in York at some point) so I figured I was still reaping lots of benefits from my new terrain.

I had arranged to meet my Beloved in a pub for lunch at 12.30 and I realised that my slow pace over the shingle, and my gel stop, had eaten into my timings slightly. Not only that, but my legs were starting to feel like they'd had a much harder workout that 6.5 miles. I think that eating into your holiday time with a long run is one thing, but being very late for lunch is taking the mick a bit, so I decided to run it on time rather than distance, heading back to Salthouse (and the highly recommended Dun Cow) for lunch on time. After the shingle beach, I followed a conservation path up a grassy trail over undulating fields and further inland. This took me past what looked like a couple of artillery guns and lots of poppies! This bit was lovely - hard ground that didn't sink underneath me - and meant I could get a bit more pace back into my run and practice some uphill running. North Norfolk is not quite as flat as you'd think.

By the time it was time to turn back, I was sorry to leave the path. I was starting to daydream about ultra running and thinking about how nice it would be to run the whole 45 miles of the North Norfolk coastal path (well, not the shingle bit, but that would be near the end, when you might want a slow bit anyway). By the time I had made it back to the pub, with SIS gel dribbled down the front of my top and sweaty salt encrusting my face and arms, I had decided that I am definitely going to run the length of the path next year. Anyone fancy joining me?

Down in the slumps

Summary: I really want to run the Yorkshire Marathon in sub 4 hours. I really am not sure I can knock 16 minutes off my marathon time to do this. However, my training started well, with a significantly improved pace from last year’s training for the ill-fated New York marathon. Running approximately a minute per mile faster on my long slow runs, and hitting race pace easily on some of the middle distance runs, I felt like I was doing all the right things and getting the results I needed.

My plan said to do a half marathon 2 weeks ago, so I signed up to run Burnham Beeches half marathon. It’s not a flat course, so didn’t expect a PB, but did expect to run well and give myself some sort of indicator for York.

The night before was sleepless. Not because of pre-race nerves but because of a persistent cough. And the nagging doubt that maybe I shouldn’t run it if I was coughing. I decided to go ahead anyway, as the race was two laps, and I could drop out halfway if I needed to. I made sure I had a couple of inhaler puffs before I dropped my bag off and headed to the start.

I think it’s safe to say it was the hardest half I’ve ever run. Even more testing than my debut half, with its torrential rain and a foot injury. It felt as long as a marathon, and every time I took a drink I had a massive coughing fit. I basically took it as easy as was comfortable, not pushing for a time, and finished bang on 2 hours, nearly 3 minutes slower than my PB.

On reflection, I realise that this was a great prep race. I ran 13.1 miles at marathon race pace and hit it perfectly. At the time, though, I was thinking what a nightmare it was and wondered why I was even bothering to look at sub 4 targets. And I couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling of failure. Mad I know, but let’s put it down to the salbutamol, shall we?

With bank holiday travels looming, and the training plan requiring 19 miles, I took the Friday morning off to run long. I headed to Richmond Park, a tried and tested route for me, trying not to push too hard as my cough was receding but still there. I went round Richmond Park in the opposite direction from normal, which I will now describe as the ‘uphill way’. All of RP is undulating but for some reason this day (probably the cough - I know, I know) it was like climbing Everest. I had to stop and walk at one point, accompanied by a coughing fit. I never take walk breaks and only stop for toilets, so for me this felt like abject failure. My sub 4 dreams were shattered. About 12 miles in, near Pembroke House on my exit route, I had a total meltdown – I stopped, turning round and round in circles arguing with myself (possibly aloud, like a real park nutter).

My logical self said ‘you’re not 100% fit, you probably shouldn’t even be running’

My stressed marathoner self said ‘you’re quitting. If you quit now, you’ll quit on marathon day. You need to push through this’

My logical self said ‘you might do yourself some damage, maybe we should head out of the park and get the bus home’
My stressed marathoner self shouted ‘Quitter! Failure’

You get the picture. And this went on for a while...
 

My logical self then pointed out I had to catch the 14.06 from Euston to Liverpool, so I realised I couldn’t really stay in the park arguing with myself any longer. I had to get home somehow, get showered and get out. So I ran to the bottom of Kew Gardens, another 2 or so miles downhill, and caught the bus. Garmin said 15.5 miles run. A good distance, I know, but not 19 miles. I had failed. I had quit. I was miserable.

I took the whole of the bank holiday weekend off. We couldn’t go on like this, me and running - we needed some distance from each other. I had a high mileage week ahead of me, which would be the real test – if I could get through that, I would be ok. It was my birthday as well, so didn’t want to be miserable because of running on my birthday. So I ignored my trainers, laid off dairy entirely and hoped the cough would subside by the Tuesday.

Tuesday, post work, I went for a 10 mile run. It was slow. It was punctuated by 3 toilet stops (NB: birthday squid ink risotto = unsuitable pre run food). I heard my first Christmas tune in a pub on one toilet stop. But I made it round. I ran 10 miles without any arguments between my logical and marathoner selves (well, the logical self may have made a sarcastic comment about the squid ink risotto) and felt a little bit happier about running. On Thursday night, I went to club intervals. I didn’t feel particularly fit, but I did the workout, and I survived.

This weekend was the high mileage bit. Hal Higdon’s advanced programme requires you to run 10mile at race pace on the Saturday, followed by 20 miles long slow run the following day. The 10 miles were knocked out at 8:57 min pace, bringing me safely under 4 hours in a marathon. Whether I could hold it for another 16.2 miles is another question but I did it. The 20 miles were a 9:47 min pace, possibly a little too fast, but I felt good. I felt strong. I even ran the bit of Richmond Park where I had my meltdown the week before, so I could shake off the bad memories.

When I look back at the same weekend pre VLM, I was 25 minutes faster over the 20 miles. My confidence is back. I feel like I can do this. Sub 4 hours may be a bit of an ambitious target, but I’m back in a position to give it my very best shot. I was this close to giving up entirely, but so glad I didn’t.

At least, not this week…

New kit for a good cause

I probably don't need half as much kit as I own but can't seem to resist a sale bargain. Recently I have bought a couple of new pairs of Nike and Moving comfort shorts from the Sweatshop sale and a rather fabulously bright Asics vest top, a bargain at a tenner.

In a bit of forward planning, I ordered some leggings from the new A/W collection from Nike. Not really for running (no key pocket, no drawstring) but they are really very lovely so I am keeping them anyway - they'll be fine for intervals and other sessions where I don't need to carry a key with me. Look, I love them, ok - let me make as many excuses as I want!

An unexpected pay rise earlier this week coincided with a visit to the Sweatshop store on Rathbone Place, which still has a host of sale bargains in clothing. I ended up with a new long sleeve Nike top from the sale and another pair of new season Nike bottoms, this time a more functional pair of running capris with a fabulous navy camouflage-esque print. These are already my new favourite running trousers, and I haven't even worn them!

Unfortunately now I've got everything home, my drawer and a half of all my worldly lycra goods is getting a bit full. I need to have a bit of a clear out. Which is handy, because there is something happening this weekend that is the perfect home for my old running kit.

A Mile in Her Shoes is a brilliant new social enterprise set up by Nicola Miller @InHerShoesHQ, which aims to support homeless women get into running as a way of boosting their fitness and self-esteem. On Saturday 17 August in Ealing, there is a fabulous event to raise money for the project, showcasing local bands in a pub that serves an absolutely excellent range of beer, including my favourite Meantime London Pale Ale.
So if you live near Ealing, or can travel to it easily by Tube or train, why not get down to the event and support a good cause?

Nicola is also looking for unwanted but wearable running kit, including shoes, to distribute to the women benefitting from her project so at least I know where to put all those bits of lycra that I need to get rid of to fit in my lovely new trousers!

Putting the Great in North Run

I got my race pack this week for my favourite race - the Great North Run. Some days I waver and think the New York marathon is the best race in the world but really it can't compare to the Great North Run. It's part of our culture. If, like me, you grew up in the northeast of England, it's one of the major events of the year, up there with Christmas and a rare spot of hot weather. It's not even a marathon, yet it generates as much publicity and excitement as a much longer race. For me, the 13.1 miles from Newcastle to South Shields are the best 13.1 miles in the world. And here's why.

Toilets
It's a little known fact that The Great in North Run actually refers to the urge you will experience to go to the loo when you see the length of the queues. With loo waiting times like no other race, it gives you a chance to chat to fellow runners and bond over whether or not that hedge over there would be a suitable alternative if you don't get to the front before your pen closes. Everyone knows that the perfect race prep is queueing for 55 minutes, realising your pen is about to close, abandoning the queue to pee in a bush on a motorway embankment then slithering down the slope to get into your pen with seconds to spare. Isn't it?

Celebrity starters
Running the Great North Run, you get to touch the palms of the British great and good. Where else can you get to high five a collection of British celebrities as wide ranging as Sting and Ellie Simmonds at the start of a race? Not for us, the Ryan Goslings and George Clooneys of this world. We are delighted if we get to touch the palms of Ant or Dec. (Well, just Ant actually, cos they were doing a side each). You wouldn't get to start the race to 'Let's get ready to rumble' with Ryan Gosling, would you? 

The great Mo Farah started the race in 2011. This year he'll be starting it in a very different way, but it will be just as exciting for the runners waiting behind him. We're all giving him a head start. Honest.

Oggy, Oggy, Oggy. Traditions are important, and this one gets everyone off to a flyer. Many have copied, but nowhere does Oggy, Oggy, Oggy like a motorway flyover  in Newcastle. Even when it's soggy, soggy, soggy, the locals are out with the oggy, oggy, oggy. And everyone obediently responds 'oi, oi, oi' in return. It's as much part of the first mile as sorting out your Garmin pace. I don't know where it came from but I hope it never goes away!

Support
The local support for this race is incredible, given the route. Don't run the Great North Run if you want nice scenery. There is a lot of dual carriageway involved in this race. But that doesn't mean that there is only support in residential areas or at the finish by the seaside. There is support everywhere. People bring picnic chairs and put them on the hard shoulder so they can sit, hand out baby wipes (!) and watch the race. Even when it rains. To be honest, if we northeast people didn't go out in the rain, we'd be housebound so we're hardy souls. Which is just as well given the weather last year. It was so wet last year I was thanking spectators for coming out.

Even the little scrotes who hurl stuff at the runners make me smile. But not as much as...

Bus stop hose man
I love bus stop hose man. Every year, he stands on the top of a bus shelter on the outskirts of South Shields and 'cools down' the runners with his garden hose. Even last year, when - quite frankly - we were wet enough off the bloody rain. But I still love him for his constancy and reliability. You don't get bus stop hose man in New York (he'd probably be arrested). In fact, when it's warm and he takes his shirt off, he might even get arrested in South Shields. I just don't stick around long enough to find out.

Community refreshments
The final element of support is the catering. I've posted before on the North East's love of community refreshments. People in the North East are natural hosts, and genetically we are all wired to be worried that our visitors have got/had enough to eat. People going hungry would bring shame upon our house (or region). On Great North Run day, this gene takes to the streets, with its jelly babies, ice pops, orange segments, plastic cups filled to the undrinkable brim with Coke and orange squash. There's even one woman with a tin of digestive biscuits. I mean, if you're doing all that exercise, you must be hungry. Get this bit of cake down you. Ee, pet, you're wasting away...

Fancy dress
I am not a big fan of fancy dress in races. It can be a bit of a hindrance, particularly if people aren't used to running in it. But the wide motorways of the North East mean that there is plenty of room for you run past people, even if they are wearing the most cumbersome of costumes. The organisers do try to get the really big stuff to the back but there's always some sights to behold out the front. One year I say two men attempting 13.1 miles as a push me-pull you from Dr Doolittle. Which meant one had to run it backwards. Yes, that's right, backwards. There was a little gasp of awe from every runner that went past them.

Not all the fancy dress is fun to watch though. Imagine seeing this run ahead of you in the final mile. I don't have to imagine it. The image has been burned onto my retinas since September 2009.

Essay question: mankini back view is worse than front view - discuss

Size. It used to be the world's biggest half marathon until being pipped by somewhere Scandinavian. But when you turn up to go into your pen, it's hard to imagine anything bigger. The pens go back a long way, and there are so many people that it can take over 20 minutes for the people at the back to cross the start line! If you're towards the front, you can't see where the pens actually end. As the locals would say, 'hoo, man, it's massive'. You feel like you are part of something incredible.
Well, that's because you are! Enjoy!

Can you see me, mum? I'm the one in yellow! Oh, wait...

 

 

Sub 4 hour marathon - target or pipe dream?

I've been aiming for a sub 4:15 marathon for over a year now. I missed out at London Marathon 2012, with an angry ITB foiling my first attempt. I missed out at New York 2012, due to the race being cancelled. And this year I missed out at London again, by a mere 76 seconds.

I've spent the months since April wondering if I can really improve any more. I'm 40 so I'm not really sure how much improvement I have left. Some reading I've done seems to think I can only hope to maintain my pace, other opinions are that as I haven't been running that long (7 years) I've got a bit more scope for improvement.

On the positive side, since I turned 40, I've PBed twice at 10k and half marathon distance, as well as notching up 5k and 10 mile PBs too. So I like to think that I've actually benefitted from turning 40, rather than gone over the hill.

My next marathon is York on October 20. I'm always more confident about autumn marathons - I like summer training and hate winter training, so always feel better prepared for an autumn race. In the first couple of weeks of training, I had a couple of (accidental) strongly paced runs which indicated that I might be able to run a bit faster than 4:15. I started to wonder, should I aim high and train for a sub 4 hour target?

So I've subtly been doing this. Not publicising it to anyone much, just monitoring my performance and seeing how it maps across to a 9:09 race pace. My inaugural race at 5 mile distance in the anniversary run in July indicated that my PB for a 10k could be reduced by 3-4 minutes again at current form. But I'm experienced enough to know that short distance improvements don't always translate to long distance pace for me.

Last Saturday, I tackled my first 'long run', which for me is anything over 13 miles in marathon training. 16 miles, a long slow run. I know can run a half marathon comfortably below 9:09, (my PB is 1:57:15) so this was my first real test to see if I could maintain a faster pace (for me) over a longer distance.

Miles 1 and 2 were comfortable about 9:39 pace. Maybe even a little too fast for what is supposed to be a long slow run. But I thought I'd keep going and see how long I could maintain it for. Miles 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 - all at a similar pace. Mile 8 saw me drop to 10:08 but this was running up Richmond Hill so I don't feel too bad about this slip. I managed to run 15.5 miles in the end, in just under 2.5 hours, averaging 9:43 pace. In fact, my pacing was really consistent overall.

My speedwork sessions are also encouraging, averaging under 8 mins per mile for long reps. I am noticing that I am able to maintain a faster mile pace than ever before. Which is encouraging me to think big.

The only thing standing in the way of a sub 4 hour marathon time is me. If I don't train for it, I'll never do it. So I am starting to believe. Maybe I can do this sub 4 hour marathon after all.

Chapeau! Ride London 100 - a spectator's review

Today was an inaugural event in London's sporting calendar - the Prudential Ride London 100 mile cycle sportive. Initially set up to celebrate the anniversary of the London Olympics, it has already become a fixture, with ballot details for the 2014 race outlined before this year's debut had even taken place. So why the excitement?

Well, it's a very special sportive in that the roads are closed. Normally, when you ride in a cycle sportive in the UK, you take your place on the road with the rest of the weekend traffic. But not Ride London. Mayor BJ had decreed that the roads should be closed, allowing people to cycle freely and safely - and in massive numbers.

And the chance to ride most of the 2012 Olympic course, to emulate Cavendish and Armistead, was too good for nearly 20 000 people to miss. And so it was that so many turned up at the Olympic Park in Stratford on Sunday 4 August to start their 100 mile ride across London and the South East, with 15833 cyclists finishing the route on Sunday.

Obviously the fact that so many London and Surrey roads were closed was not popular with everyone. Many people complained about the road closures, but many of the complainers were people who spend a good section of their time whingeing about cyclists in general and were glad to have another reason to hate them. It didn't stop 1000s of people turning out to cheer the cyclists along the route, even in NIMBY Surrey. And for tourists and many Londoners, a quieter capital - with free entertainment - is something of a treat. There is a special feeling to be able to cross roads and not have to sprint to avoid an erratic taxi or bus. And I can only begin to imagine how surreal it must be to be able to ride your bike without worrying about cars, buses and lorries. I think the route quite cleverly covered areas with rail or tube links as well, ensuring that only the infirm were really trapped in their homes for the day.

I went along to watch my Beloved race. Normally he gets to watch me run plenty of times, but I never get to watch him ride sportives (as I can't be arsed to get up at 5am usually) so it was nice to have the opportunity to return the favour and be on spectating duty. I'd arranged to spectate at two points: near Monument and at the finish. Unfortunately, thanks to a severe delay on the Central Line, I missed him at Monument by just a few seconds, but I did manage to see a couple of other friends there who were in a later start. Determined not to miss him at the finish, I then headed straight to the Mall and got myself in position, just in time to watch the first finishers.

Despite it being a sportive, there was certainly a lot of competition. The first group of riders really went all out to 'win', making for an exciting finish to watch. It didn't work out for everyone, with someone called Joe coming off worst in a final run-in spill, but he got to walk his bike across the line and get his own special cheers. Hope his shoulder gets better soon.

Spectating for a loved one or friends at cycling is difficult, as riders go past so fast it's difficult to pinpoint single riders You need to know what colour top they're wearing and they need to know where you are standing, so they can spot you. I also distinguished myself with a pink hand clacker inherited from Beloved's Giro d'Italia trip earlier this year. Essentially this meant that friends could spot (or hear) me instead of the other way round. It also guaranteed me lots of space in my spot on the Mall, as it is deafening!

But in the end it wasn't just about watching for people I knew. As a frequent race participant myself, I know how big a different support can make so I wanted to support everybody. I ended up with very sore arms from banging boards and clacking my pink plastic hands at everyone in sight. I spent a good couple of hours watching random cyclists finish, waiting for Beloved to show up. And I loved every minute of it.

There were basically 3 main groups of cyclists at the 350m from the finish point:

• the determined sprinters, desperate for the fastest finish, not noticing where they were. These men and women are just focused on their time and their performance, oblivious to the surroundings. They will not look so good on their race photos.
• the grim faced cyclist, with little left in the tank but wearily focused on the last few 100 metres. These men and women looked so tired, like it was taking them every last ounce of energy to get them to the end. Hopefully one grimace will come out like a smile on their race photos.
• the happy cyclist, the 'oh my god look at all these people thumping the boards for me!' rider, engaging with the crowd and grinning like mad. Adrenalin had kicked in and they were loving it. Some were even taking photos and videos of the finish with their smartphones. They'll have some great race photos!

The happy cyclists made it just as much fun for the spectators, and seemed to get extra loud cheers from the crowd. While the crowd was relatively thin, it was definitely making a lot of noise and not for the first time did I wish I was out there riding, not just because it must be a great feeling to ride such an iconic finish.

I was a bit worried at the end that I might have missed Beloved. I'd been tracking him on Endomondo and knew he was close, so I started to get paranoid I'd missed him a second time. Then the speaker started playing the Black Eyed Peas, which is a band he hates with a passion. I've seen him walk out of parties when they get played. Once I heard the music, I was pretty sure that he would turn up while that song was on - and sure enough, he surged out of a small group at the 300m mark. Apparently the noise of the crowd was so loud, he didn't actually hear the Black Eyed Peas playing, which is just as well as it might have caused him to storm off course in protest. I was so excited at actually getting a glimpse of my speedster (100 miles in 5:01 seems speedy enough to me) that I didn't manage a photo, but it was still great to see a loved one so close to the finish.

This was one of the best bits of the sportive - spectators could get right up to the end to watch. It constantly frustrates me in the London Marathon that the last few 350m are just you,  a few photographers and a TV newsreader's family. You could really do with the support right to the end. Luckily for the cyclists, and us, you could follow them right to the line and beyond.

It was an incredible spectacle in general. Cycling attracts young and old, thin and fat, grumpy and happy, and it's wonderful to watch. A lot like the London marathon, but with less chafy fancy dress. And with a much, much, better medal.

So much so it's really inspired me to enter the ballot for next year. It's about time I tried a new challenge, and while I know I won't fit a triathlon schedule in my life, I think I can fit some long cycle rides in. And if that means I get to Ride London, then that would make me very happy! I'll definitely be putting my name in the ballot 'chapeau' next week.

Relax, don't do it

The last couple of weeks have marked the inevitable ‘not enough hours in the week’ point of my marathon training.

Anyone who’s trained for a marathon knows the feeling. If you’re training for your first marathon, you’ll experience it soon enough. You might have a mental week at work. You might be visiting friends. Or, you might just have the perfect storm of training, work and an uncharacteristically busy social life hit in a week.

 
Sometimes, I’ll check Twitter at breakfast and see people have been out and done 10 miles or speedwork and it’s not even 7am. These people can always fit a run in. They are superhuman. I am not superhuman. I have to sleep. Otherwise I find when I run I trip over because I’m too tired to look where I’m going. I have learnt the hard way that tripping over and hurting yourself is bad for marathon training morale.

Marathons do not run themselves so somehow you have to fit in miles. That’s why marathon training is so much harder than the race itself. Sometimes, no amount of planning can help: the simple question is – when on earth am I going to fit in a run?

Here are some of my tricks for fitting in miles and staying sane when the diary gets full.

1.     Concede.

Depending on your race target, your plan will likely have you running between 4-6 times a week. Whatever the training schedule I have set myself, I am unlikely to be able to stick to it for 16-18 weeks in a row. My life will take over at some point. My work will have to take precedent at some point. My loved ones will have birthdays, emergencies or generally demand that at some point they come before the lycra. I will go on holiday or visit friends who think I'm crazy (or antisocial) for running every single day.

Don’t sweat it. So what if one week you only run two, three four times? The training police don’t come and arrest you. Just don’t make a habit of it. Hal Higdon reckons if you do approx. 85% of your training, you’ll be fine. This is a good rule of thumb which I use when I’m feeling stressed about the demands on my time.

If there genuinely isn’t any space to fit in a run, I just shrug it off and try to follow my schedule as normal the following week. Don’t try to squeeze in extra miles to make up for missed runs. That way injury lies.

2.     Quality not quantity.

If you must concede miles or runs for the week, focus on quality not quantity. I always aim to fit in speedwork and a long run, no matter what the week throws at me. For example, last week I knew my total mileage would suffer so I ran a tough testing intervals session on Tuesday evening with my club, Ealing Eagles. It took me a good couple of days to recover properly, but that was ok, because it was a good couple of days before I could fit in a run. I also ran a few miles later in the week at race pace, and did a long run on Sunday. So, although I didn’t tick off 100% of my mileage, I felt like I had achieved some quality sessions that would help my progress.

If I’m on holiday, I do a long run the day before I leave and the day after I come back, so I don’t have to do them while I’m away. Long runs on holiday are only acceptable if you holiday alone. Otherwise they might ensure that you end up holidaying alone.

 3.     Commute.

Ask yourself, can I commute to or from work? Note: not ‘can I be arsed to commute to or from work? That is a different question!

Many people can’t do the run commute because of distance or logistics. But many of you can. So, if you can, do it. It’s a simple way to kill two birds with one stone.

If you have office shower facilities but they get a bit hectic in the morning (which is the case at my work), take your stuff and run part or all of the way home. A couple of weeks ago I ran part way home on Tuesday and all the way home on Wednesday. It was the only way to fit my miles in, but it meant I avoided the stinky BO fest that is the Tube and was still able to attend a social event in the evening.

Run commutes are particularly useful for marathon training long runs, if you’ve got a busy weekend coming up. I’ve scheduled 19 miles for the Friday of the Bank holiday, as I have family christenings and birthdays for the rest of the weekend. By running home to start the weekend, I’ll bank the miles and have the rest of the weekend to recover.

Remember, if you can’t fit the miles in one week, it’s not the end of the world. If you can’t fit the miles in for two weeks, it’s not ideal but it’s fixable. If it gets to 3-4 weeks, and you’re not able to run even though you’re actually fit to do it, you might need to consider a different training plan or race target that fits better with your lifestyle. Running should be a pleasure, not a chore.