When I was little, I was always desperate to try Angel Delight and my mum would never buy me it, insisting I wouldn't like it. I whined for years. She caved. I hated it. She won.
I also campaigned long and hard for Marmite, but she also said I wouldn't like that. I bought my first jar when I moved away to uni. I've had a jar in the cupboard ever since. (cue jokes about it must be a bit crusty by now etc)
Because of Marmite, even when there is a strong suspicion I won't like something (book clubs, Chia Pods, reformer pilates) I still have to go ahead and try it anyway. It's like a leftover from that being told you won't like something. And while there will always be Angel Delights (book club, it's not me, it's you), you've got to gamble on the Marmites (who would have thought reformer pilates is actually quite fun).
More recently, it was a race that got me interested. In all my previous marathon preps, I've never done a 20 mile race. I've never even run a long run with company! Last year, at a marathon training night organised by the Ealing Eagles, one of the speakers said that a good performance in a 20 mile race could potentially have a negative impact on your marathon time. That was enough for me to steer clear.
But this year, I was feeling, well, desperate. My long runs have been harder to stick with, running them alone has become increasingly more difficult. Running long distances in the wind, rain, mud and cold made it even harder. So after an 18 mile run which was 10 miles of running, 8 miles of arguing with myself about whether or not to quit, I thought I should sign up for a 20 mile organised run. I figured I would run it at 60-90 secs slower than my intended marathon pace, and also figured there would be other people running at that pace, that would distract me from my utter boredom. After much deliberation, I signed up for the Finchley 20 in Ruislip.
I mentioned to Beloved that I had signed up for a 20 mile race.
'Sounds like a good idea', he said.
Me: 'It's 4 x 5 mile laps'
Him: 'You're not going to like that'
He had a point. I have a long tradition of getting vaguely hysterical at running laps. Track or hill intervals are fine. They are supposed to be laps & repetitions. But races that consist of two or more laps usually end with me huffily swearing off the race for life. I think that people who run marathons that include laps are amazing human beings that deserve all the medals in the world.
On race day, I didn't need to worry about the cold and the wind. It was a lovely day, and probably would have been fine to manage a 20 miler alone. Instead I found myself running with two other club members. Two firsts in one!
I spent most of the first lap either desperately checking my pace to make sure I wasn't going too fast, or worrying about the fact I was going to have to run 3 more of them. On the second lap, I decided I'd just run 15 miles and then finish. My left hamstring was hurting and I didn't want to make it worse.
But because I was running with someone else, who also was hurting, something revelatory happened. She suggested we stop and stretch out our hammies. We did. It stopped hurting. I carried on.
By lap 3, I had abandoned my exit strategy. I persuaded myself that I might as well run the 20 miles today, as otherwise I'd have to do it again next week. The sunshine, and a group from the running club at mile 3, relentlessly cheered us on. Another club member was marshalling at the 5 mile point/finish and had a high 5 waiting each time. It was ok. It was happening today.
By lap 4, I felt incredibly strong. I only had 5 miles left to run. I felt ok. I thought, 'ooh, only one lap left'! I even did the last three miles at race pace. It was a lap revelation.
I won't lie. I'm not going to go out and enter a marathon with laps, unless I could bring a whole support team and station them at multiple points around the course. But I certainly would recommend a 20 mile race or organised run as part of your training. Find someone lovely/interesting to run with who wants to do the same pace as you. Stretch if you need to. And remember, you'll never know until you try it.
Thursday, 13 March 2014
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
Yorkshire marathon race report
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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Unhappy at mile 23 |
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.
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.
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!
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| 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.
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| 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!
Tuesday, 15 October 2013
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, 1 October 2013
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.
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.
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 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.
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| Ealing does the best medals |
On the whole, my splits were very consistent
Thursday, 26 September 2013
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.
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.
Monday, 23 September 2013
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...
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).
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...
Friday, 20 September 2013
The good, the bad and the ugly: Great North Run 2014 race review
Sunday was my 4th 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 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.
I'll be back next year again, if they'll have me. Maybe next year I'll be aiming for sub 1:50!
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.
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.
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.
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.
Friday, 13 September 2013
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?
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.
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?
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