Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
A Morning Jog In Warwickshire
by Russell Turner - 15:47 on 07 July 2019
Another week, another medal, although the Leamington Spa Half Marathon took a lot more effort than last week’s Alness 5k.
Some rain yesterday afternoon had helped clear the warm, muggy air, but not enough to stop it returning by 8.30 this morning when around 1,800 runners (I think) left for the 13.1-mile tour of Warwickshire. For the first time I’d set off with a fancy race plan: four miles with the 2:20 pacer to the highest point of the course; speed up for three miles downhill; three miles steady over an undulating section; then go for broke over the last three miles. My hope was to beat 2:15, or even my PB of 2:13.
This plan sounded good on paper but didn’t survive the humidity. After four miles I still felt fine, unlike some of the runners puffing and gasping around me, but not fine enough to run away from the security of Tara the Pacer, so I stuck with her. We even had a bit of a chat from seven miles, when some of her acolytes felt the pace was too much and I found myself with my own personal pacer. There may have been others keeping a steady distance behind, of course.
The route was beautiful, I was told. I didn’t see it: just the road, the runners and walkers ahead, and the dispiriting sight of yet another rise in gradient on the undulating section. The climbs were small, and over in a few minutes, but they took a toll. Without Tara I suspect I might have taken a walk break; with her, I kept going – not for macho reasons, simply because I knew I should be able to maintain the pace, and my breathing was still steady. Most of the time.
The last couple of miles, through town and the park, were flat but tough going, despite encouragement from a decent number of spectators and finished runners adorned by the elephant-themed medal. Tara encouraged me to put a spurt on at the end; that was never going to happen. I crossed the line just behind her in (according to my Garmin) 2:19:55. Official finish times (and photos) have yet to be published.
I felt a bit woozy after stopping, which may explain why I walked past the medals, eye-burning dayglo orange T-shirts and frankly disappointing goody bags which contained two small protein bars and a sheaf of bumf from sponsors. Fortunately I was able to retrace my steps, collect my prizes, then totter back to Chez Richard, accompanied by my host. Staying five minutes from the start/finish line was a bonus that meant no faff with baggage.
Finished. I needed the jacket when the sweat began to cool...
With hindsight, although I’d downed more water per mile than at home it wasn’t enough for the conditions. The Garmin told me 16ºC, although it felt like more. I got through the two gels I needed but was glad I didn’t need to force down a third. However, I was happy with my performance on the day and felt I couldn’t have given any more. The cooler Highlands is obviously the place for PBs.
My post-race appetite was poor but I should be ready for a celebratory curry later tonight. Jack Daniels bought yesterday, in anticipation of festivities, remains unopened. For now.
The bonus of completing my final race as a 60-year-old is a week off before training begins for the Great North Run and Yorkshire Marathon. Or possibly two weeks. We’ll see.
Some snippets from the Garmin: I expended 2,109 calories; my total run distance was 13.17 miles; my average heart rate was 145bpm (160 max); my pace, despite running with a pacer, was as spiky as usual rather than the smooth ribbon of progress I’d expected; the total elevation gain was 115m – exactly the same as the entire Yorkshire Marathon. There’s 160m in the GNR, including a nasty climb at Mile 11; I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Good job it’s only a training run.
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