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.
Inverness Half Marathon
by Russell Turner - 22:31 on 09 March 2020
One day after a second weekend of half marathon action and my legs are recovered, apart from an occasional ache in the back of my right thigh and some Frankenstein walking. This time I was spared the almost-contractions, so the muscles must be getting more used to the effort. It’s about time.
The auspices were, again, not good. The City Limits gig the night before race day ended at a time reasonable enough for me to be in bed by 1am. Unfortunately I was still awake at 3am, possibly because of the stovies I enjoyed around 10pm, and when I did drop off woke at 6.30, which was a shame because the Inverness Half Marathon didn’t begin until 12.30.
At least it gave me plenty of time to breakfast, get race kit ready, and arrive at Inverness Leisure Centre – event HQ – before all the handy parking spaces were gone. An indoor assembly meant shelter from a piercing cold wind but close proximity to the pipe band. Such is life. And who knows how much Coronavirus was being passed around the thronged athletes.
When the time came to return outside the wind hadn’t dropped, and a few drops of rain threatened worse, but once we got going the conditions, apart from a few headwind blasts, weren’t too bad. Neither were the hills, compared with Warwick the week before: not as much elevation gain and the inclines much more gentle.
This was just as well, because the runners around me at the start set off at 9:15 pace (it soon slowed a little) – much faster than I’d planned, although that was snail-like in comparison with the front runners. The video of the start shows a stark difference the leaders and the followers.
I knew that the highest point of the course was just after four miles so I stuck with the pace, thinking that if I could make it there in under 40mins I’d be on for a good time. Remarkably, my theory worked. All my miles were under 10mins apart from Mile 9, where an incline held me back to 10:01; the compensation was a very nice descent on the other side. Times for the first and second six miles were virtually the same (a mere 23secs difference) and although the final mile was hard work I was still strong at the end. Not that I’d have wanted to run much further.
My reward was another PB – official chip time of 2:07:53 – on a day when some of the visitors claimed they were hampered by wind and hills. My local training must have acclimatised me; it was quite warm in places.
The only disappointment was the meagre size of the medal, although I said nothing about it, not wishing to appear a bling snob, until Matchgirl commented on its modest proportions. The one she won a few years back was much more impressive. The race shirt was good, though. No race pics yet, though I’m not expecting anything worth buying.
Back in the sports hall, out of the wind, clad in a fresh top retrieved from my reclaimed baggage, there were more stovies to replace lost energy. Later on a post-race pizza helped complete the job. Simple pleasures.
This week, following two weekends of proper races, will feature just a couple of brief recovery runs and a 60-minute, very easy, run at the weekend. I’ve earned a lazy week.
Add your comment
© Russell Turner 2008-2024