So the final race on the 500 mile challenge, the Helsinki City Run half marathon.
We take the Metro from our hotel to the railway station and then walked the mile up the main street to the Olympic Stadium. Which proved a good way to see the sights. Consequently we were there with hours to spare.
A whole host of sports venues were built in Helsinki for the 1940 Olympic Games, which never happened. Something to do with a World War. Instead Helsinki got to host the games in 1952. As far as I can tell all these venues have been preserved and are still in use today. Work has had to be done on them but care seems to have been taken to keep the original look of the buildings rather than to completely modernise them. In the UK of course we'd have simply demolished them before spending years looking at a derelict site amid political wrangling and escalating costs before we finally built something ‘modern’.
We kill several hours at the race expo, the coffee shop and with a walk around the area, taking in the national football stadium and the Olympic swimming pool which are all part of the same complex. Outside the complex are statutes of Finnish athletes Paavo Nurmi and Lasse Viren.
Poor Paavo, like most male statues in Helsinki, he is naked. All the female statutes we see are clothed, which is a bit of a departure from the norm. Lasse kept his kit on though, whether this means he’s less or more revered than Paavo I’m not sure.
The race itself starts at 3pm and I’m in the first ‘white’ group, entered when I had two good legs to run on, whilst L is in the third ‘yellow’ group which starts at 3.20. There are six starts in all, all at ten minutes intervals.
The first thing to say is the locals like to seriously overdress for their running. They are all wearing so many layers. Ok, the day started overcast but it's not particularly cool and now the sun is starting to breakthrough, so it could really warm up later. I’d hate to think what they wear if they go out running in February when the temperature rarely gets above -5. Today the temperature is best described as ‘typically British’.
In the face of all this layering up, L wavers and puts on long sleeves. Probably thinking they know something we don't but I'm sure she’ll regret it later.
The race route takes us around two lakes close to the city centre before heading north, taking in another lake and some parkland. It's run almost totally on cinder paths, which doesn’t suit me and I long for a stretch of tarmac but I don’t get it. The route is also more undulating that you would expect.
As I predicted it's also now quite warm, not that the Fins seem to notice. A few strip off a layer or so but not many, most just sweat it out. Seriously sweat it out. Perhaps it’s some mass communal weight loss strategy.
Local Scandinavian genes kindly produce blondes aplenty, of both sexes, and an abundance of Finnish pony tails, again of both sexes. It's all a bit wasted though without the off-the-shoulder running vests we get in the UK. Buried under all the fleeces, jackets, hats and gloves the effect is lost. I'll just have wile away my time looking at the cultural aspects of Helsinki instead.
The drinks stops are good with water and Gatorade. Although always in cups, which means I have to stop each time or else I’d have ended up wearing all of it.
The locals are out in reasonable force to watch but I wouldn’t call it ‘support’. They simply stand and stare, either fascinated or appalled, I can’t quite decide which. Very few deign to clap or cheer as people would back home, even in Nottingham, and I assume those that do here must be fellow foreigners.
I complete the course in a respectable time of 1:45. I'm pleased with that, beating the 1:48 from my last race at Worcester was my aim. I managed a steady five minute km pace all the way around, which is something to now build on.
With L starting twenty minutes behind me I have plenty of time now to go fetch the dogs out of the car... ah, knew we’d forgot something. Instead there's plenty of freebies to pick up, which will do for lunch. Then I look around for a post-race massage, surely the University of Helsinki’s physio department have their best young talent doing the honours? Or at least a posse of big blond Nordic men who will attempt to snap your leg off. I don't see any, well not until later by which time my legs have already set.
L comes in wearing just her running vest with her long sleeve top knotted around her waist, having had to strip behind a portaloo midrace. What did I say...
Back at the hotel I present L with a special t-shirt I had made to mark the occasion of her completely her 500 mile challenge.
So job done. 500 up!
L's Time: 02:15:51
Races: 64
Miles: 510.8
T-shirts: 36
Medals: 22
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Going To Fail: 500 Miles
My partner has just turned 49. She's a keen runner and now she's going to have to get keener. She intends to run 500 miles in 50 plus races in her 50th year and hopefully collect 50 t-shirts along the way. I thought I'd chart her progress.
Why is it called 'Going To Fail'? Ask Daughter.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Lord Mayor’s 10k
While the whole country’s eyes were on that marathon thing in London, we’re in Sheffield for the much more modest Lord Mayor’s 10k, which is part of the Sheffield Festival of Athletics. It’s presumably all with the Lord Mayor’s blessing, as he’s there.
The event starts and finishes at the impressive Don Valley Stadium, actually inside the stadium unlike Sixways last week. It’s a nice touch to run on the track inside the stadium but I quickly grow a bit sick of the sight of it, as we start in it, finish in it, return to do a lap of the track (twice) and run around the top of it (three times). It’s enough to make you dizzy.
In between the route takes us around the pathways that surround the stadium and a lot of cones. The three lap course is ideal for spectators who could put their feet up in the covered grandstand and heckle you in comfort, no less than seven times. I really should have brought my father. Being under cover was useful as the weather was mixed.
The Festival of Athletics was going on as we lapped the stadium for the umpteenth time and you could watch the pole-vaulters trying to harm themselves. The rest of the course had one sharp incline, done three times naturally but other than that it was exceedingly flat by Yorkshire standards but very twisty. That’s not my sort of course but that probably wasn’t the reason why I was so slow, over 46 minutes. That’s lack of training. I did a bit extra as well, as I went the wrong way and had to be shouted back.
I wasn’t convinced about the course measurement, something not helped by the lack of km markers. I only saw 1, 4, 6 and 8 and as I had three laps to look for the rest of them, I’m pretty sure they weren’t there. It also took an age, well five and half minutes, to reach the first one, which means to me that it was in the wrong place. The markers all had ‘Varsity 10k’ on them, a different race held a month ago and my initial assumption was that they were reusing these but now, post-event, I’m thinking perhaps they had just been left up by accident. Apparently that race started in a completely different place, so it was all very confusing.
At the end I’m handed a nice Festival t-shirt, aside from being green, handed out by the Lord Mayor himself. I didn’t think the race was that inspiring and L enjoyed it more than me but then she’ll do anything for a green t-shirt.
This now leaves L with just 2.3 miles to run to complete her 500 mile target. Which is an absolute doddle with two weeks left to go, except that I’m forcing her to board a plane to Finland in order to complete it. I’m cruel like that.
L's Time: 01:00:23
Races: 63
Miles: 497.7
T-shirts: 35
Medals: 21
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
The event starts and finishes at the impressive Don Valley Stadium, actually inside the stadium unlike Sixways last week. It’s a nice touch to run on the track inside the stadium but I quickly grow a bit sick of the sight of it, as we start in it, finish in it, return to do a lap of the track (twice) and run around the top of it (three times). It’s enough to make you dizzy.
In between the route takes us around the pathways that surround the stadium and a lot of cones. The three lap course is ideal for spectators who could put their feet up in the covered grandstand and heckle you in comfort, no less than seven times. I really should have brought my father. Being under cover was useful as the weather was mixed.
The Festival of Athletics was going on as we lapped the stadium for the umpteenth time and you could watch the pole-vaulters trying to harm themselves. The rest of the course had one sharp incline, done three times naturally but other than that it was exceedingly flat by Yorkshire standards but very twisty. That’s not my sort of course but that probably wasn’t the reason why I was so slow, over 46 minutes. That’s lack of training. I did a bit extra as well, as I went the wrong way and had to be shouted back.
I wasn’t convinced about the course measurement, something not helped by the lack of km markers. I only saw 1, 4, 6 and 8 and as I had three laps to look for the rest of them, I’m pretty sure they weren’t there. It also took an age, well five and half minutes, to reach the first one, which means to me that it was in the wrong place. The markers all had ‘Varsity 10k’ on them, a different race held a month ago and my initial assumption was that they were reusing these but now, post-event, I’m thinking perhaps they had just been left up by accident. Apparently that race started in a completely different place, so it was all very confusing.
At the end I’m handed a nice Festival t-shirt, aside from being green, handed out by the Lord Mayor himself. I didn’t think the race was that inspiring and L enjoyed it more than me but then she’ll do anything for a green t-shirt.
This now leaves L with just 2.3 miles to run to complete her 500 mile target. Which is an absolute doddle with two weeks left to go, except that I’m forcing her to board a plane to Finland in order to complete it. I’m cruel like that.
L's Time: 01:00:23
Races: 63
Miles: 497.7
T-shirts: 35
Medals: 21
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Worcester Half Marathon
This was the first running of the Worcester Half and Full Marathon, so a few minor teething problems can be forgiven but as it was put on by an experienced ‘events’ company, Threshold, I’m not sure why they fell down on as many things as they did. Right from the off directions to the venue were a bit basic for a non local. There weren’t any. Just a venue, with a post code I suppose, but not even a sign from the nearby motorway.
The promised the 'small' parking charge turned out to be a hefty £3. Small = 50p. This caused a major tailback that backed up all the way down the dual carriageway as everyone had a whip-round in their pockets to find the cash. If you are going to charge for parking then either add it to the entry fee or at least disclose the amount to us in advance.
We were early enough to avoid the worst of the queue and could take advantage of the facilities at the Sixways Rugby Stadium. It was nice to have proper facilities as opposed to the usual portaloos.
The result of parking debacle was a delayed start by 15 minutes and a problem trying to keep warm. The start was on a very narrow country lane that presented little in the way of warming-up opportunities, nor vantage points for spectators but my father hadn’t made it to this one.
Once we started the route turned out to be pleasant enough. Scenic countryside with a few playful hills. In fact they took us up one almost straight from the start, which was a nice touch. At least, as I know we do this bit again in reverse, the finish will be down it. We were soon past the 13 mile point... Blimey that was a short run, about 12 minutes, a PB and a world record or is that sign just for the full marathon? Yes, some 200 folks are going to go around this course twice.
The route took us through villages and past local pubs, where there were plenty of spectators cheering everyone on but none of them were offering beer. Only sports drink in cups as well as water in bottles. Although I would have liked water before 4.5 miles and on the information sheet four drinks stations were promised but only three were delivered.
The weather was good, it started out chilly but soon warmed up. Well I warmed up, I’m not sure L did but then she’s a girl.
Although billed as the 'Worcester' half, we didn’t appear to go anywhere near the place. Perhaps in future it would be nice to take in some of it, if that’s possible and perhaps a stadium finish? As a first attempt though, it wasn't bad, a good turnout and a nice friendly feel.
They told us before we started that the 11 and 24 mile markers had been stolen, what they didn't mention was that miles 6, 7, 8 and 9 had gone AWOL too, along with the associated marathon distances. The organisers seem to think this was a ‘targeted removal’ rather than a prank, perhaps by the impatient driver who tried to mow half the field down. The roads weren't closed to traffic but most drivers were patient and considerate, some weren’t but that’s normal.
I was aiming for steady-ish but not too steady 8 minute miles, the lack of mile markers stuffed this as I continually tried to average my time out over more and more miles until my head exploded at the complexity of the maths of it all.
I also got blocked by a car on the downhill finish that I was so looking forward to it. Then it was a surprise to be diverted down the canal towpath at the end, which was a bit narrow, making overtaking difficult as people lifted their pace towards the finish. At least I didn't wobble into the canal.
The 26 mile marker also seemed well adrift from where it should have been, good job it didn't apply to me but it should have indicated .2 to go. Although us ‘halves’ had to do an annoying final loop around a cone, it still seemed well out of place.
Oddly there was no clock at finish line but my time of 1:49 isn’t bad considering, although I had targeted a 1:48. I’m handed a rather nice T- shirt. Yay, in cotton, so I can go out to the pub in it tonight. I’m a bit sick of technical t-shirts. They even seem to have enough in smaller sizes, which is a first because although I pick up a ‘small’ for L and she picks up a ‘medium’ for me there are still plenty of ‘smalls’ left.
I wait for L, who does another decent time. Not as quick as Reading but this was a lot hillier and we did both run yesterday.
This run leaves her just 8.5 miles to do to complete her challenge.
L's Time: 01:00:11
Races: 62
Miles: 491.5
T-shirts: 34
Medals: 21
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Paws 10k
It’s the fourth running of the Paws 10k at Cotgrave Country Park this morning and, for the first time in those four years, those with paws are allowed to run. How could I deny MD this opportunity? I couldn’t. I’m sure Doggo would have liked to have done it too but sorry mate, this is MD’s gig.
The main Paws event - the 10k, starring L, is off at 10am, so she could have had a lie-in this morning if MD and I weren’t doing the 4Paws 5k at 9am of course. Sorry.
My calf is definitely much improved but being dragged around 5k by the manic MD will certainly be the acid test. If the injury can survive that, then tomorrow’s Worcester Half Marathon is a mere formality.
First though, the pre-race warm up.
There are around a dozen of us and they set everyone off at five second intervals, meaning some mathematics will be required in adjusting the finish times. I’m a little disappointed not to get a mass start, as they are always fun but perhaps they are just being annoyingly sensible. Perhaps they’ve just taken note of MD.
He is a tad excited at the start, well I interpret his noisiness as excitement, it could have simply been annoyance at his Saturday morning lie-in going astray. Perhaps he’s just trying to unsettle the opposition. It works, everyone seems to be backing away from us, moving us nearer to the front.
Then we’re away. I try to hold him back, for his sake and for the sake of my dodgy calf but it’s no good, he won’t be constrained and I decide to go with the flow, his flow.
I have my best, newest, most cushioned, most expensive running shoes on as I know the Paws 10k is always on solid grit tracks. They omit to tell us that the 4Paws run isn’t, it’s across muddy grassland instead, so I wish I’d gone for some older footwear. It’s also not terribly well marked or marshalled. We gain a place as one of the ‘professionals’ an aggressively attired Cani-X refugee appears from behind a bush, seemingly having gone the wrong way. At least at the finish, that’s what she claimed she was doing behind the bush.
The race does seem to be a bit of an afterthought, or forethought as we’re before the main race, and I didn’t think the organisers took it terribly seriously. Not like MD, he’s deadly serious.
We cross the line in fourth, I think, where we are congratulated by a six foot tall fluffy dog, which MD eyes suspiciously but keeps his cool. Our position is adjusted down to fifth when the start times are checked. I’ll need to double check that on the official results, if there are any. I have my doubts. As I say, I didn’t think the organisers took it terribly seriously.
Having apparently sabotaged L and Doggo’s run at Catton last year, they get their own back as Doggo supports us over the last fifty metres or so causing MD to run this last stretch backwards, barking his regards to Doggo. That probably cost us fourth, which still wouldn’t have been good enough for a podium place but it's good enough for a bag full of dog treats.
After all that excitement, there’s not really much point putting on the main race as anything else is going to be an anticlimax but they do anyway.
L claims to be saving herself for Worcester but clocks just over an hour on a course that to me (last year) didn’t seem quick despite its relative flatness.
L's Time: 01:00:11
Races: 61
Miles: 478.3
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
The main Paws event - the 10k, starring L, is off at 10am, so she could have had a lie-in this morning if MD and I weren’t doing the 4Paws 5k at 9am of course. Sorry.
My calf is definitely much improved but being dragged around 5k by the manic MD will certainly be the acid test. If the injury can survive that, then tomorrow’s Worcester Half Marathon is a mere formality.
First though, the pre-race warm up.
There are around a dozen of us and they set everyone off at five second intervals, meaning some mathematics will be required in adjusting the finish times. I’m a little disappointed not to get a mass start, as they are always fun but perhaps they are just being annoyingly sensible. Perhaps they’ve just taken note of MD.
He is a tad excited at the start, well I interpret his noisiness as excitement, it could have simply been annoyance at his Saturday morning lie-in going astray. Perhaps he’s just trying to unsettle the opposition. It works, everyone seems to be backing away from us, moving us nearer to the front.
Then we’re away. I try to hold him back, for his sake and for the sake of my dodgy calf but it’s no good, he won’t be constrained and I decide to go with the flow, his flow.
I have my best, newest, most cushioned, most expensive running shoes on as I know the Paws 10k is always on solid grit tracks. They omit to tell us that the 4Paws run isn’t, it’s across muddy grassland instead, so I wish I’d gone for some older footwear. It’s also not terribly well marked or marshalled. We gain a place as one of the ‘professionals’ an aggressively attired Cani-X refugee appears from behind a bush, seemingly having gone the wrong way. At least at the finish, that’s what she claimed she was doing behind the bush.
The race does seem to be a bit of an afterthought, or forethought as we’re before the main race, and I didn’t think the organisers took it terribly seriously. Not like MD, he’s deadly serious.
We cross the line in fourth, I think, where we are congratulated by a six foot tall fluffy dog, which MD eyes suspiciously but keeps his cool. Our position is adjusted down to fifth when the start times are checked. I’ll need to double check that on the official results, if there are any. I have my doubts. As I say, I didn’t think the organisers took it terribly seriously.
Having apparently sabotaged L and Doggo’s run at Catton last year, they get their own back as Doggo supports us over the last fifty metres or so causing MD to run this last stretch backwards, barking his regards to Doggo. That probably cost us fourth, which still wouldn’t have been good enough for a podium place but it's good enough for a bag full of dog treats.
After all that excitement, there’s not really much point putting on the main race as anything else is going to be an anticlimax but they do anyway.
L claims to be saving herself for Worcester but clocks just over an hour on a course that to me (last year) didn’t seem quick despite its relative flatness.
L's Time: 01:00:11
Races: 61
Miles: 478.3
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 4
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Monday, April 9, 2012
Wollaton Park Easter 10k
While I’m in the rather unglamorous surroundings of a very met and muddy field in Solihull, attempting to get a dog to jump some poles and failing, L’s having a much better time of things.
She does 58.03 for her 10k on what is a far from fast course around the undulating grounds of Wayne Manor, formerly known as Wollaton Hall. It's featured in the new Batman movie.
The girl done well and is edging ever closer to the magic 500 miles.
L's Time: 00:58:03
Races: 60
Miles: 472.1
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
She does 58.03 for her 10k on what is a far from fast course around the undulating grounds of Wayne Manor, formerly known as Wollaton Hall. It's featured in the new Batman movie.
The girl done well and is edging ever closer to the magic 500 miles.
L's Time: 00:58:03
Races: 60
Miles: 472.1
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Mugs: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Reading Half Marathon
So it’s 5am, its -2 degrees, its April Fools’ Day and we’re driving two and half hours down to Reading, gammy leg and all, with our return journey entirely dependent on people having left enough fuel in the pumps to get us home. You couldn’t make it up.
The weather is soon warming up as wander across the gravelly car park that doubles as the race village, please tarmac it, and head to the start. By 10am, it's really quite pleasant. Sunny but still cool. In short, perfect race conditions, for anyone who’s fit enough to take advantage of them. E.g. not me.
I have a red number and a guaranteed spot in the front 10% of the race, just behind the Kenyans but I'm not there. Instead I'm stood next to a sign the says ‘2 hours’. Which is roughly where all the duck costumes, the tutus, those dressed up as pieces of fruit and others who are not taking it quite so seriously hang out. Well apart from the bananas, the bananas are always up front. Of course, there’s L too. Pretending not to take it seriously and publicly happy with anything under three hours but actually set to be gutted if she doesn’t break 2:15.
Sally Gunnell, Natasha Danvers and Reading FC chairman Sir John Madejski start the race but the Reading chairman is the only one of the three who joins in with the race. Danvers has an Olympics on her mind but Gunnell’s excuse of being ‘retired’ must have seemed a bit hollow as she watched the 70 year old Madejski disappear down the road.
Fair play to the football club who fielded quite a team including manager Brian McDermott and their furry mascot Kingsley the Lion. The lion kept out of my way, which was wise of him.
Back here in 2 hour land nothing actually happens when the race ‘starts’. I’m used to skipping across the line about 20 seconds or so after said Kenyans but not today, not back here. Somebody needs to devise some entertainment for these people while they wait for that start line to come into view.
It seems like an eternity but is actually ‘only’ 13 minutes before our race is finally underway and we can start the process of weaving around those who have started in too advanced a position for their ability. This is worse for us 2 hour-ers because back here so many people run two or three abreast chatting, creating a much wider road block, oblivious to the swearing of those behind them. Try that up front and somebody would have cracked you over the head with a bottle of Lucozade Sport or worse, poured the toxic liquid all over you. ‘Sorry mate, my hand slipped’. Seen it done.
Nor do we get people dropping bottles in the middle of the road. Tut tut. Nor do we get camel’s overtaking us... Oh, the shame. I reassure myself. It’s just a training run, stay cool. Don’t look at L grinning at you.
In a way I’m actually enjoying the leisurely pace. Although at 9:30 per mile, I’m currently towing L, who is behind me, ahead of her schedule and we stay at a solid 10:00 minute mile pace or less for the first six miles.
The crowds are out in force throughout Reading. In places where the route wasn’t barriered off they were encroaching on the route, narrowing the road, Tour de France style. Which was rather thrilling. Unfortunately in the centre of the town, shoppers took advantage of this by rushing across in gaps that weren’t there, causing some nasty moments and a few collisions. So barriers are required there, in places where watching isn’t going to be the primary activity and where ‘normal life’ hasn’t ceased. If you can call shopping normal life that is.
Meanwhile I’m still having a bit of camel trouble. The damn thing passes me three times, so I can only assume it does so, and then hides for a bit so that it can embarrass me all over again. Not funny. It’s given the chap next to me the hump or so he says. He makes not comment when the Gingerbread men come past us. I too am lost for words.
It’s enough to drive you to drink, so fortuitously at around seven and a half miles I’m hoping to get one. It was somewhere around here last year, just around a left hand bend. I move over to the left to make sure I don’t miss it. Yep, there it is. A pub dispensing its beer in little plastic cups so that you can top up your carbohydrates and anaesthetise your gammy leg, if you have one, all in one go. How thoughtful. I grab one and stop briefly to drink it.
I’m surprised to see L follow me and grab one too. Ever the professional though, she won’t stop to drink it and ends up giving half to me. Not a problem.
The leg is coping ok, although I do slow to walk on a steep but short incline in the city centre, causing L to suspect the leg has gone again but I’m just been cautious.
After 8 miles, L encourages me to push on ahead, if I so wish. I decide to test the leg out a bit and go off in search of Gingerbread men and that bloody camel, which is presumably hiding somewhere. No sign. Instead I come across a caterpillar powered by several army blokes, all in full army kit. Kudos for that. I reel them in, and then I put Scooby Doo to the sword before stalking Elvis all the way along the dual carriage way that makes up mile eleven. Still no sign of the damn camel.
The ‘pushing on’ does bring a few twinges to the leg, so it’s only a very gentle push on taking me back to around 9:30 pace at best. Well short of what I’d do if I was 100%.
Then after the out and back last mile in front of the Madjeski Stadium, it’s into the stadium itself for the finish. Which didn’t seem quite as impressive as last year. I’m sure last year they had people sat opposite the entrance, so that a wall of faces and sound hit you when you hobbled in. Rather than to the side and behind, as today. Never mind, it’s still good.
2:09 is my slowest half marathon ever but it was still an enjoyable run. L is a mere four minutes behind me.
I have a few gripes about the post-finish which was in too much of a confined area and water should have been handed out first not last. No t-shirt of course. Which is always a major downer; I’m not one for medals. A great goodie bag though, rammed full of both useful and useless things.
All in all, a grand day out again. One that I might have to pencil in the diary to repeat again, due to not being able to give this one my full attention.
The race results show that even if I’d been fit I couldn’t have kept pace with the likes of Kipyego, Chemugo and Martelletti who led the field home. Nor for that matter the first fruit home, a banana of course, in 1:22.
John Madejski did an impressive 02:29 beating his manager Brian McDermott's 02:37. We must have passed both of them. Their chip and gun times are so similar, that they obviously both started at the front.
Of course the bad news is that a chap collapsed and died at the finishing line, which puts everything into perspective.
L's Time: 02:13:42
Races: 59
Miles: 465.9
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Mugs: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
The weather is soon warming up as wander across the gravelly car park that doubles as the race village, please tarmac it, and head to the start. By 10am, it's really quite pleasant. Sunny but still cool. In short, perfect race conditions, for anyone who’s fit enough to take advantage of them. E.g. not me.
I have a red number and a guaranteed spot in the front 10% of the race, just behind the Kenyans but I'm not there. Instead I'm stood next to a sign the says ‘2 hours’. Which is roughly where all the duck costumes, the tutus, those dressed up as pieces of fruit and others who are not taking it quite so seriously hang out. Well apart from the bananas, the bananas are always up front. Of course, there’s L too. Pretending not to take it seriously and publicly happy with anything under three hours but actually set to be gutted if she doesn’t break 2:15.
Sally Gunnell, Natasha Danvers and Reading FC chairman Sir John Madejski start the race but the Reading chairman is the only one of the three who joins in with the race. Danvers has an Olympics on her mind but Gunnell’s excuse of being ‘retired’ must have seemed a bit hollow as she watched the 70 year old Madejski disappear down the road.
Fair play to the football club who fielded quite a team including manager Brian McDermott and their furry mascot Kingsley the Lion. The lion kept out of my way, which was wise of him.
Back here in 2 hour land nothing actually happens when the race ‘starts’. I’m used to skipping across the line about 20 seconds or so after said Kenyans but not today, not back here. Somebody needs to devise some entertainment for these people while they wait for that start line to come into view.
It seems like an eternity but is actually ‘only’ 13 minutes before our race is finally underway and we can start the process of weaving around those who have started in too advanced a position for their ability. This is worse for us 2 hour-ers because back here so many people run two or three abreast chatting, creating a much wider road block, oblivious to the swearing of those behind them. Try that up front and somebody would have cracked you over the head with a bottle of Lucozade Sport or worse, poured the toxic liquid all over you. ‘Sorry mate, my hand slipped’. Seen it done.
Nor do we get people dropping bottles in the middle of the road. Tut tut. Nor do we get camel’s overtaking us... Oh, the shame. I reassure myself. It’s just a training run, stay cool. Don’t look at L grinning at you.
In a way I’m actually enjoying the leisurely pace. Although at 9:30 per mile, I’m currently towing L, who is behind me, ahead of her schedule and we stay at a solid 10:00 minute mile pace or less for the first six miles.
The crowds are out in force throughout Reading. In places where the route wasn’t barriered off they were encroaching on the route, narrowing the road, Tour de France style. Which was rather thrilling. Unfortunately in the centre of the town, shoppers took advantage of this by rushing across in gaps that weren’t there, causing some nasty moments and a few collisions. So barriers are required there, in places where watching isn’t going to be the primary activity and where ‘normal life’ hasn’t ceased. If you can call shopping normal life that is.
Meanwhile I’m still having a bit of camel trouble. The damn thing passes me three times, so I can only assume it does so, and then hides for a bit so that it can embarrass me all over again. Not funny. It’s given the chap next to me the hump or so he says. He makes not comment when the Gingerbread men come past us. I too am lost for words.
It’s enough to drive you to drink, so fortuitously at around seven and a half miles I’m hoping to get one. It was somewhere around here last year, just around a left hand bend. I move over to the left to make sure I don’t miss it. Yep, there it is. A pub dispensing its beer in little plastic cups so that you can top up your carbohydrates and anaesthetise your gammy leg, if you have one, all in one go. How thoughtful. I grab one and stop briefly to drink it.
I’m surprised to see L follow me and grab one too. Ever the professional though, she won’t stop to drink it and ends up giving half to me. Not a problem.
The leg is coping ok, although I do slow to walk on a steep but short incline in the city centre, causing L to suspect the leg has gone again but I’m just been cautious.
After 8 miles, L encourages me to push on ahead, if I so wish. I decide to test the leg out a bit and go off in search of Gingerbread men and that bloody camel, which is presumably hiding somewhere. No sign. Instead I come across a caterpillar powered by several army blokes, all in full army kit. Kudos for that. I reel them in, and then I put Scooby Doo to the sword before stalking Elvis all the way along the dual carriage way that makes up mile eleven. Still no sign of the damn camel.
The ‘pushing on’ does bring a few twinges to the leg, so it’s only a very gentle push on taking me back to around 9:30 pace at best. Well short of what I’d do if I was 100%.
Then after the out and back last mile in front of the Madjeski Stadium, it’s into the stadium itself for the finish. Which didn’t seem quite as impressive as last year. I’m sure last year they had people sat opposite the entrance, so that a wall of faces and sound hit you when you hobbled in. Rather than to the side and behind, as today. Never mind, it’s still good.
2:09 is my slowest half marathon ever but it was still an enjoyable run. L is a mere four minutes behind me.
I have a few gripes about the post-finish which was in too much of a confined area and water should have been handed out first not last. No t-shirt of course. Which is always a major downer; I’m not one for medals. A great goodie bag though, rammed full of both useful and useless things.
All in all, a grand day out again. One that I might have to pencil in the diary to repeat again, due to not being able to give this one my full attention.
The race results show that even if I’d been fit I couldn’t have kept pace with the likes of Kipyego, Chemugo and Martelletti who led the field home. Nor for that matter the first fruit home, a banana of course, in 1:22.
John Madejski did an impressive 02:29 beating his manager Brian McDermott's 02:37. We must have passed both of them. Their chip and gun times are so similar, that they obviously both started at the front.
Of course the bad news is that a chap collapsed and died at the finishing line, which puts everything into perspective.
L's Time: 02:13:42
Races: 59
Miles: 465.9
T-shirts: 33
Medals: 20
Chocolate Bars: 7
Bags Of Crisps: 5
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Mugs: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
Sachets Of Liquid Iron Supplement: 1
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Stafford Half Marathon
Well first we lose an hour in bed due to the clocks going forward and then we head to Stafford for their half marathon. Though again, due to my injury, only L will be competing.
That said, I leave the dogs to howl in the car while I watch the start.
Then as the course does a loop away from the town centre before returning, I wait for L and join in. I’m not sure exactly how far I run but it was over a mile, maybe one and a half and it goes ok. No reaction in my calf. It’s at a slower pace than I usually run at but it’s a pace that actually doesn’t feel too bad at all.
L did tell me to take it gently. Unfortunately, I was doing my sort of gentle when it went in the first place. She quotes me, that I was ‘on for a good pace’. It’s all relative. Good = Gentle. I was about to wind it up when my leg fell off.
Then I leave L to it and run the same distance back to the start, extract the howling twosome from the car. We go to watch the winners finish and then the rest of the race from the pleasant surroundings of Victoria Park.
I’m not sure how L felt about me running with her. I either paced her or annoyed her. I’m not sure which. Her time though is eleven minutes up on last week and her second best of the year but then such wild swings in her performance are not uncommon.
Today I don’t have to request a t-shirt as they were handing them out before the start, along with the race medal. This is of course a cardinal sin of the highest order by the organisers and a massive tempting of fate by anyone who takes one. It also causes unnecessary congestion in the race village. That said it’s a brilliant t-shirt, which I shall wear with unearned pride and a little embarrassment.
L's Time: 02:12:33
Races: 58
Miles: 452.8
T-shirts: 32
Medals: 19
Chocolate Bars: 6
Bags Of Crisps: 4
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Mugs: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
That said, I leave the dogs to howl in the car while I watch the start.
Then as the course does a loop away from the town centre before returning, I wait for L and join in. I’m not sure exactly how far I run but it was over a mile, maybe one and a half and it goes ok. No reaction in my calf. It’s at a slower pace than I usually run at but it’s a pace that actually doesn’t feel too bad at all.
L did tell me to take it gently. Unfortunately, I was doing my sort of gentle when it went in the first place. She quotes me, that I was ‘on for a good pace’. It’s all relative. Good = Gentle. I was about to wind it up when my leg fell off.
Then I leave L to it and run the same distance back to the start, extract the howling twosome from the car. We go to watch the winners finish and then the rest of the race from the pleasant surroundings of Victoria Park.
I’m not sure how L felt about me running with her. I either paced her or annoyed her. I’m not sure which. Her time though is eleven minutes up on last week and her second best of the year but then such wild swings in her performance are not uncommon.
Today I don’t have to request a t-shirt as they were handing them out before the start, along with the race medal. This is of course a cardinal sin of the highest order by the organisers and a massive tempting of fate by anyone who takes one. It also causes unnecessary congestion in the race village. That said it’s a brilliant t-shirt, which I shall wear with unearned pride and a little embarrassment.
L's Time: 02:12:33
Races: 58
Miles: 452.8
T-shirts: 32
Medals: 19
Chocolate Bars: 6
Bags Of Crisps: 4
Toothpaste: 4
Redbush: 3
Bags: 3
Dog Biscuits: 2
Buff: 1
Certificates: 1
Glow Sticks: 1
Mugs: 1
Plates: 1
Paperweights: 1
Bandanas: 1
Drinks Bottles: 1
Sticks Of Rock: 1
Rosettes: 1
Christmas Puddings: 1
Antlers: 1
Golden Boot: 1
Shot Glass: 1
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