A Valentine's Day PB!

I was about to start this blog with the line 'My relationship with this race isn't great,' but I see that this i.e. exactly the phrase I used last year!  So if anyone wants to know why I have issues with this race all they need to do is click that link.  Whatever you think about this race, there is no disputing the fact that having a 20 mile road race in the build up to the big spring marathons is a brilliant idea.  Running 20 miles on your own is not my idea of fun, but I would struggle to find a training partner who wanted to run at a similar pace to me and fear that I could easily persuade them that it would be a really good idea to stop for a coffee in that interesting looking coffee shop.  So, the race entries opened, and I found myself clicking the links, typing in my credit card details and crossing my fingers that there wouldn't be a repeat of last year's ashtray-gate!  

I didn't train for this race specifically.  My intention was to run it as a training run and see how I felt.  This was a good plan, as I'd ended up running a bit faster than I'd wanted to at parkrun yesterday due to a small person being unwell and not being there to slow me down to her glacial pace.  It had been cold - so my Garmin was buried under gloves and long sleeved top - I'd planned an easy run, wanting to run 5k in about 27/28 minutes, and I did feel I was running easily - chatting as I passed people on my way round, but finishing in 24minutes 26seconds.  Oops.  This morning was chilly but sunny - gloves and sunglasses weather - so I decided that I would not look at my watch at any point other than when I passed a mile marker.  I reckoned I was running this as a training run so I would run as fast or as slow as felt comfortable.  

Chatting to Mark (photographer)

We had the, now traditional and frankly one of the best things about Bramley, FetchEveryone meet up at A&G's house near the start.  Tea, gossip and proper loos - lovely! A two minute walk saw us at the start line, bumping into various people I knew on the way.  The first mile of the run was very congested - someone dropped a gel and ran back to pick it up which added to the melee.  The first few miles were crowded and good natured.  I ran along chatting to people I knew and enjoying the scenery - a group of 6 horses cantered across their field to have a look at us!  A friend commented that he could hear me chatting 'from miles away' and that he thought, as I passed him that he would easily be able to catch me later as I obviously wasn't taking it very seriously and was wasting my energy on talking! (*)

The water stations were frequent and one day I will learn to drink from a plastic cup while moving, the marshals were friendly and encouraging.  Special mention must go to the guys marshalling at about 9/19 miles.  They were the loudest marshals on the course!  At about 4 miles I saw a friend and his son running in the other direction - they'd not managed to get a race place, but decided to run anyway, and it was lovely to see them.  I was checking my watch at each mile marker, but not really paying much attention to it, if that makes sense.  There is a longish hill that goes up towards the 6 mile marker, it is much shallower on the first lap, I think they crank up the elevation for the second lap, but I was surprised to note that I had run one of my fastest miles on that stretch (8.16).  The secret to this was that I was chatting (yes, really, I know you'll find it hard to believe) to total strangers as we slogged our way up it.  

The last few miles of the first lap felt quite festive.  All the 10 miles finishers are looking forward to the finish, we all know there is a nice downhill stretch ahead.  It is hard not to get carried away.  I had a giggle at the 3/4mile, 1/2mile, and 1/4 mile to the finish signs - what is 10 extra miles between friends?  I got to the 10 mile finish thinking, 'Bother, if I was stopping now I'd be on for a PB!' Only just, but a PB all the same!  I did worry about the wheels coming off in the second half, but I didn't really have any option other than to carry on running, so I did.  

Given that more people run 20 miles at this event than run 10, it is surprising how empty the roads feel on the second lap.  The first mile - until the turn into Folly Lane - involved lots of overtaking of people who had finished the 10 mile race and were going back to the car park!  The lack of distraction made it feel a bit harder, although I still managed to chat away quite happily to people I was passing and others who were passing me.  The wind had also picked up and we ran the first couple of miles of the second lap into a rather bracing breeze!  Slopes that had seemed inconsequential when last encountered now felt like the north face of the Eiger.  The hills at 16 and 18 miles were still there - just with few people running up them!  

Multi tasking!

The last three miles were a bit dull.  Not many people around, scenery you've seen before, and my confused brain trying to work out if we'd done the last uphill bit of if we still had that to look forward to.  At 17 miles I'd looked at my watch and realised that I was on for a PB.  In fact, I could slow right down and still get a PB.  I didn't slow down though, I just carried on.  I was still overtaking a few people, although a couple of people who obviously take this pacing lark seriously did fairly whizz past at 19 miles!  

"I asked for gin!"

And then we were on the final downhill section to the finish.  I was smiling so much and felt as thought I could carry on running for miles!  One spectator pointed at  me and said 'Look at her - she doesn't look like it was an effort at all!'  I threw myself past one last runner as we approached the finish and was over the line and feeling elated!  I felt as though I was bouncing up and down with excitement.  An 11 minute PB!  I removed my timing chip, miracles never cease - I could actually bend over and remove it all by myself!  The support at the finish of the 20 mile race is a bit more muted than at the end of the 10 - lots of people have gone home by then, but it was still great to be over the line.  

Then, back to A&G's, having collected my medal, for tea, chilli and gossip and to see how everyone else had got on.  I had zero expectations of this race when I turned up this morning, but it turned out to be a fabulous day out!  I had no idea I was capable of running so well.  Thank you to Reading Road Runners for organising the race, and to A&G for their hospitality.

Keeping Britain/Bramley tidy

(*) He didn't catch me up.  I wasn't unsportsmanlike in my whoop of joy at running faster than him.

Bramley. Again.

My relationship with this race is not great.  I ran the 10 mile in 2012, wimped out of starting in 2013, had a nightmare at the 2014 20 mile race and yet somehow I found myself at the start line again this morning.  Given that my marathon training had been put on hold following my tumble at the end of January, and the fact that my foot is still not fully healed I couldn't help but think that running 20 miles was a foolish endeavour.  But I'd paid my entry fees and I hate wasting money.  This is the only 20 mile race I have ever run, so I knew I could run 10min/mile pace and still get a PB.  That is what I intended to do - nice and easy.  

We had a bit of a FetchEveryone meet up before the race.  Cup of tea, gossip, proper loos - that sort of thing and then made our way a couple of hundred meters down the road to the start at Bramley Primary School.  There were hundreds and hundreds of runners!  It seemed a much bigger field than in previous years and as such there were loads of people I knew there but didn't get to see in the crowd.  It took well over a minute to cross the start line - so just as well there was chip timing.  

My pacing plan went out of the window as soon as I started running.  I felt as though I was taking it easy but was running close to 8min/mile pace.  Not sustainable, given my current level of fitness! I slowed down, started chatting to people around me.  And there were plenty of people around me - I hadn't remembered it being this busy the year before.  The water stations were frequent and the marshals friendly and the miles ticked by.  As we approached the 10 mile mark I decided I wanted to run on my own for a while.  I was aware that running and talking was stopping me from listening to any niggles that my foot was giving me.  At 10 miles all the 10 mile runners finish - which is an obvious statement I know, but it means that you are running alongside runners who are sprinting towards the finish line.  This, coupled with the slight downhill at this point, makes it very hard not to pick up the pace - which would be a really silly idea as there are still another 10 miles to go!

I got to the 10 mile mark in about 1hr 29 mins - only 3 minutes slower than my PB, and made the decision to keep on running.  I ran past the bus shelter where I'd had a little sob last year and felt OK.  The roads were much clearer now - this is, I suppose, why I don't remember it as a busy race, because the second half isn't!  Although I had dropped my pace a little, this second half felt as though it was faster, I think I'd got into the flow and the mile markers seemed to come round quicker.  It is all in the mind I know - but it did seem as though it wasn't taking long.  

At around 14 miles there was a warning shout from a runner behind me about a car.  I was hugging the verge, but a great big, shiny, black Range Rover was right on top of me.  I tapped on his window and had stern words with him as I ran along side him!  I was polite - but I am sure he is in no doubt that I have a very low opinion of idiots who drive aggressively when there are runners around!  I got a cheer from the other runners - and one of them pointed out that if I could carry on a conversation while running alongside a Range Rover then I wasn't putting enough effort into my running!

At 15 miles my lack of training kicked in.  The slope that had seemed so easy at 6 miles was sapping my strength at 16m, but I WOULD NOT give up.  The last 5miles were a testament to mind over matter.  I remember a PTI from my TA days who would always say 'Your mind gives up long before your body is ready to stop' but today I proved him wrong.  My mind is way more stubborn than my body and stopping was not an option.  I was even beginning to regret stopping at the water stations.  I can't walk and drink (let alone run and drink) from an open cup, and I'd not brought a water bottle with me - so I stopped at each station.  Now I could see that this time was wasted time and would mean that there was no way I could get a sub 3hr time.  I was still on course for a PB though (previous time was 3:27:39) so I'd have to be content with that.  

With 1.5 miles to go I passed a young man walking up a hill - I grabbed his arm and dragged him up the hill with me!  Managed to hustle a couple of people along like this.  This was the only bit of the second lap that seemed longer than the first.  The finish line took forever to materialise, but when I saw it I put on a burst of speed in sheer desperation for this to be over!  I finished in about 3hrs 1minute.  

Once I'd staggered through the finish handed over my timing chip and collected my goody bag I made my way to the Fetch gathering, where our wonderful hostess (who had herself completed the 10 mile race) was kind enough to undo my shoe laces so that I didn't have to bend over!  She also furnished us with many cups of tea, chilli con carne, jacket potatoes and cakes.  It really does make the race extra special to meet up with such lovely people afterwards.  

As to the race bling, hmm, Husbando described it as an ashtray!  A little metal dish thing.  Not sure about it to be honest.  I like a medal :-)

Decisions, decisions.

Had I been the type of person to believe in signs and omens I probably wouldn't have left the house this morning, or at least I would have turned back before I got 3 miles from home.

A squabble between child number 4 and child number 5 resulted in child 4 falling (or was he pushed?) off a chair and getting a black eye.  I decided to leave the house anyway.  I got about 2 miles from home and realised that I hadn't got my Garmin with me.  This wouldn't have been an insurmountable problem if I had been wearing a watch, but I wasn't, so I turned back and went home to get my watch.

I wasn't stressed, I still had plenty of time.  I got further this time.  And then I hit black ice.  I tried to turn left and the car slid across the road.  I braced myself for an impact as the car slid, sideways, into the verge.  I was driving a Volvo so there was no harm done to the car!  A wee bit further on I had to divert around a road closure (a fallen tree was being demolished), yet still I was determined to get to Bramley for the 10.30am start!

I last ran this race (the 10 mile version) two years ago, and remembered that one of the car parks was some way from the start, but arriving with very little time to spare I felt I couldn't risk driving to the closer car park, finding no spaces and then having to drive back again.  I parked at 10.10am and had to run the mile and a half to the venue, I got there with a few minutes to spare, dropped my bag at the baggage drop, realised I'd left my Shot Blocks in my bag so had to go back and get them, then I dashed to the queue for the loos and made it to the start line with about a minute to spare.

So, we were off.  The weather was fabulous, blue skies (if you can remember what they look like) and lovely and warm.  A bit too warm really.  I was wearing a long sleeved top under a t-shirt and the long sleeved top had to go.   It is quite a faff to remove one top from under the other while running, but I managed it!  It was all going quite well at this point, and at about 4.5 miles I caught up with some friends I know via Basingstoke parkrun and ran with them for a few miles.  At 5 miles everything started to hurt.  Or rather, everything down the right hand side of my body started to hurt.  I think the adrenaline from the near miss in the car and the aggro of getting to the start had worn off and the earlier impact was taking its toll.  I told my friends to run on, and said that I was going to stop at 10 miles.  I meant it.  I limped past friends from parkrun and Fetcheveryone who were there supporting the runners, assuring them all that I would stop at 10 miles.  I still meant it.  I'd forgotten that the course seems to be almost totally uphill, apart from a nice little downhill to the finish.  I really couldn't face running the second lap.

At the 10 mile point the runners were directed to the left if they were finishing the 10 mile race and to those running the 20 mile race to the right.  I knew I wasn't eligible to finish the 10 mile race, so I carried on, thinking that I would pull up soon after.  My training plan stated that I should run 15 miles today, so I had it in my mind that I would get to 12.5 miles and then turn round and come back.  At about 11 miles I stood by the side of the road and updated my Facebook status to say 'This will be my first DNF.  Entire right hand side of body is agony - I blame the skid earlier.  11 miles done and I'm heading back to the start.' And I meant it, I really did.  At this point, a friend passed me, and told me I should head back, so I ran with him for a while instead and decided to see if I could get to 15 miles.  I adopted a 'run/walk' strategy, running for 4 minutes and walking for 1 minute and struggled on.  And I do mean struggled.  I had no power in my right leg, but the further I went the less sense it made to give up.  15 miles came, and I realised that even if I walked the rest of the away I would finish before the 4 hour cut off time.  So on I went.  I was encouraged by fellow runners.  Spurred on by setting myself small goals (one of them was to get away from the woman with the jangley coins in her pocket) I eventually found myself at the sign saying 3/4 of mile to go - the end was almost in sight and the last half mile is gloriously down hill.  I had nothing left, I just wanted to get this over with.  I managed to cross the line, and then grabbed railing and hobbled though the finish area, waving off some concerned questions from the first aiders and collecting my goody bag.

I was about to head home when I head someone call "Hello Fetchie" (I was wearing my Fetch hoodie) and turned to find myself being invited back to a strangers' house for 'Tea, cake, chilli...'  Now, much as I would advise my children not to go home with people they have met on the internet, I have never been much for following my own advise, and was reassured when I heard that mutual friends were already there.  Tea, cake and a bit of chat in a very comfy chair followed.  Thank you to 'Ironmum' for making me feel so welcome - it might even make the prospect of running this race again a bit more inviting.  

I staggered back to the car, turned the heated seat on, and drove home without incident.  It took me a while to get out of the car when I got home, and even longer to get up the stairs to the shower, where I discovered that yet another pair of running tights have started to chafe.  I am going to have to have a clear out of worn out running kit if I want any skin left on my back!  

So, not a great day, but beautiful weather and a time (3:25:55) I can aim to better if I ever run another 20 mile race! 

The race I didn't run

There's a saying that states you regret things you didn't do far more than things you did do.  This is very true.

This time last year I was on a high, even if I was slightly stiff, after running the Bramley 10.  I've just read back through my blog entry for the day and realised that despite not feeling 100% well, I went ahead and ran anyway.  This year, while enjoying running, I've rather lost my nerve when it comes to entering races.  I haven't felt as though I can run as fast as I want to and, as I know more and more runners at each of these events, I don't want everyone to see me clocking slower and slower times.  I don't think for one minute that anyone of them would judge me, but I don't want to be recording times that are miles slower than I ran in previous years or have to make excuses, either in my head or out loud, for my 'poor performance.'

So, I didn't sign up for this race this year.  Even as my pace has slightly picked up I didn't pluck up the courage to fill in the forms.  Then, when I finally decided that I may as well give it a go, it was too late. The deadline had passed.  I tried not to think about it too much, but it has been in the back of my mind. And there have been the constant drip, drip of Facebook status updates.

I went for a 10 mile run of my own this morning, around the route of the Alton 10 race, a challenging run at the best of times, made more so today due to a heavy early morning mist giving limited visibility. I tried not to think about all the other runners, many of whom I know, getting ready to run at Bramley.  I listened to my current audiobook, 'My animals and other family,' and settled down for my long, slow run.  I didn't clock watch at all, I just plodded along, up and down hills, meeting Husbando at his shop so that we could grab some brunch.  I'd run 10.6 miles in 1hr 35minutes.  Not fabulous, but not too bad for a long, slow run.  I was, however, very cross with myself.  If I could run that time on my own, when I wasn't pushing myself I knew I could have run a fairly respectable 10 miles in race conditions!  A crowd of other runners always urges one on and gives one something to pace oneself against.  I doubt I could have bettered my PB, set at Paris-Versailles in 2011, but I may have come close.

I came home to a Facebook page full of jubilant status updates from my fantastic, PB collecting, running buddies.  I am happy for them, yes, really I am!  But I do so wish I had been there too!

Given that I won't be doing Paris-Versailles this year (sob!) I have set myself a huge challenge now.  I need to get close to my 10 mile PB at the Alton 10!  A challenging route, it may not have the huge hill of Paris, but it does have hills aplenty!

Mind you, if it wasn't a challenge there wouldn't be any point in doing it would there?