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.
Nairn 10k 2022
by Russell Turner - 22:18 on 06 March 2022
“Listen to your body” is one of the precepts with which runners in general and Matchgirl in particular have hectored me since my athletic career began. This week it begged: “Please, let me stay home.” So I did.
Instead of trying to catch up on training runs I allowed my hurty heels and associated legs to relax indoors (apart from when I was out distributing the latest Chatterbox) and hoped that they’d recover some of their former bounce. Hope was fulfilled (up to, maybe, 85%) so yesterday I took them on a briskish three-mile walk. This morning they seemed none the worse for their excursion, so it was decision time: do the Nairn 10k and risk a relapse or take more time off to ensure a sprightly start at the Inverness HM next week.
I took the risk and headed to Nairn, leaving behind a disconsolate Matchgirl, who’s caught my cold (I’m almost fine, thanks for asking), to sneeze at the cats and huddle in her sofa blanket. She’s not happy with life or with me.
My decision was influenced by blue sky, sunshine and the merest hint of a breeze, which meant my shorts appeared for the first time this year. However, the long-sleeved top stayed – spring is still a while away.
When I arrived, and parked surprisingly swiftly, Nairn was en fête with dozens of runners wandering between the community centre race HQ and the High Street, where Nairn Road Runners had constructed their start/finish archway. After collecting my race number I joined the throng of stretching, gossiping athletes and supporters then, after the first klaxon sounded, made my way past the hyperactive vest-and-shorts-clad club runners on the start line to take a modest place at the back of the pack of around 300.
Another klaxon and we were off, to discover that away from the shelter of the town’s architecture there was a very brisk and cool wind blowing into our faces. Such is life.
Starting right at the back meant that for the first two miles I had the pleasure of passing a few dozen people, then a handful more over the following miles. Only one person passed me, which was good for my ego, although the effort I was expending for an unexceptional pace wasn’t. But through pleasant if undistinguished agricultural scenery, on roads we shared with a scattering of cars, swapping occasional chat with fellow participants, I kept running to the end, even putting on a final 50m spurt to foil the chancer who wanted to overtake me at the death.
Official times have yet to be released, but my Garmin clocked 1:00:49 – exactly the same time, and almost the same average heart rate, as my post-Covid Glenlivet 10k in October. My fitness seems to be taking its time about improving. My legs and heels had stood up to the pounding (although there’s a suspicion of a grumble from the right ankle) so I took it easy getting back to Grandson of Seat where I changed into a dry top then ambled carefully back to the finish line, cunningly positioned next to a chip shop.
Sadly, its wares were anaemic and disappointing but filled a hole while I watched the final runner cross the line, then the dismantling of the archway and barriers.
Six hours and a long hot bath later, the heels are sore but not outrageously so. Let’s hope they’re still OK in the morning, when I can plan my final runs before the Inverness HM. Next week will also see me visiting two sporting professionals in a bid to recapture the ability which allowed me to run a 1:57 half and a 4:37 marathon. On Wednesday Run4It will reanalyse my gait, to see if the type of shoes I need has changed; on Friday Mr Physio, who allowed me to change my appointment, will give me the once-over. Watch this space.
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