Date: Sunday, June 12, 2022
Distance: 13.1 miles
Listened to: Mostly Taylor Swift’s folklore (it really chills me out)
It’s been a while! Since writing my last blog at the end of 2021, I have kept running – sometimes sporadically due to winter illnesses – and have tucked a further three half marathon races under my belt:
- Exeter Half Marathon – February 13
- Great West Run – May 22
- Swansea Half Marathon – June 12
I had not really planned to do the first two and the last one had been postponed from 2020, but they have kept my medal haul ticking over and given me a range of race experiences.
I loved the Exeter Half! It took me back to where I had run my only marathon race four months before. Remember the one? The one that had made me question why I was even bothering with the distance as I had not even nailed a 10k or half at that point without walking! Obviously feeling cheery that day!
Despite the Eeyore attitude, I was looking forward to this one as I knew the route and I had the confidence of knowing that I could survive 26.2 miles, so should be able to do the half. I was also running with friends. Six of us from Kingsbridge – Abs, Ali, Cath, Marissa, Rachel and I – turned up for the second day of the Exeter Half. True to say, we were a mixed bag of abilities, with a few first-timers in our midst, a Covid-recover, and a superfast legend. I was there for one of the first-timers, my lovely friend Marissa. No easing into racing for this brave woman. No 5k or 10k as a warm-up…straight in for the half! Boom! What a woman. Having given up running for a little while, she had regained her mojo and was smashing it. She trained diligently for this half and I was happy to be her wing woman. Despite the rain and puddles, it was lush. We chatted. We listened to music. We had wee stops. We had snacks and Love Hearts. We had a good time and Marissa went home with a well deserved medal. I have so much admiration for her positivity and strength.
Meanwhile, our Covid-recover had struggled round with some gentle coaxing from her bestie, but had still done it in a good time. Our other first-timer had gone sub-two hours. And Rach – our superfast legend – had come second and had got herself a trophy (I did tell her before she set off that she could win it – second will more than suffice). What a day! And despite the awful weather, we had stalwart support from Lou and Kate. We were all smiley. It was a lovely shared experience and it was wonderful to see Marissa achieve her goal.
Somewhere in between this Exeter half and the next, I found some confidence. I was running faster and getting up hills easier. I was in a little bit of a groove and was chuffed, then bam, another virus took me down…and kept me down. I had dreams of doing my DIY April half around Central Park during our family holiday to NYC, but it never came to fruition. My groove was gone. However, I did run in Central Park four times, including a few runs with John and one with Maggie, where we ran to the Alexander Hamilton statue. Central Park is amazing – but not flat – with lanes for runners, cyclists, and horses . You can see runners of all speeds, ages, shapes and sizes, and there a loads of them. It’s pretty cool.
Back in the UK and I was heading towards another Great West Run run, which I had sworn I would never do again. Having done it twice, I will definitely never do it again! It’s not for me…especially when it is hot. I had signed up to support Andy at work who was running to raise money for the Samaritans. This somehow culminated in the creation of a running club – the swcomms Running Club – with five of signed up to do it. One of our team dropped out before due to life overtaking any training plans, but that left Andy, me, Lucy and Jezz.
Lucy is a seasoned pro in my opinion. She started running when her dad died, so very like me in that respect. Our speeds though differ greatly! She is silly fast and a true inspiration. Andy was taking on the Great West and all its hills as his first race ever, and this was to be Jezz’s first race half too. We knew we were not going to run together but me met up before (in our matching T-shirts) and waited to see each other in.
Race day was alarmingly hot! I do not like the heat at all when I am running. I also somehow got it into my head that it would be really nice to do somewhere between a sub two-hour time (of course it would) and my previous time of 2hrs 21mins. I mean, the cavern between those times is huge! I started off way too fast (just maybe with half an eye on the two-hour pacer) before wanting to pull out at five miles. I have really never considered pulling out of a race before, despite whinging a lot in previous races, and that’s a horrible feeling when you know you have eight miles to go. I ran at around nine-minute mile pace for the first four miles, but there was no way I could sustain that and that’s why the wheels came off. I picked up again at around six miles but walked the rest of the hills. No negative split for this race!
I ended up coming in at 2hrs 13mins, so beat my previous time but felt I had let myself down in terms of pacing. The rest of the crew were awesome. I take my hat (that I should have worn) off to Andy and Jezz. It is a tough course and it was bloomin’ hot. Did I say it was hot? What a baptism of fire for a first half…or race in Andy’s case. Total heroes!
Having been full of beans in February, I was full of doubt and self-loathing, for being full of doubt, come the Swansea Half. I made the mistake of listening to a podcast about half marathon training just before in which the coach said: “You need to be able to stand on the start line and know you can do the distance.” I really was not sure that I knew that. I had not followed a training plan, so was really uncomfortable with being confident. Still, I had paid for my place two years ago (stupid Covid) and was going to get it done. Instead of the two-hour mark, my aim was to run every step. No stopping. No walking. I have never run an entire race and not treated my self to a little walkie, but this was a flat course, so I was going to give it a go fuelled by porridge and banana served to me by my sister-in-law.
I had booked myself into the 2hr to 2hr 15mins pen, so hung around at the back where the 2hr 10mins pacers joined us. The plan was to stay near them, try to keep below 10-min mile pace and hang on! I needed to find a happy medium between the two Exeter half marathons and I did just that. My slowest mile was 9.45mins and my fastest was 9.17mins. I did use my watch to check on my pace throughout and tried to enjoy the occasion…and the flat. I also donned a tennis player style visor for the day as it was another hot one.
There were times in the last three miles when walking seemed like such as favourable option, especially when other runners are doing just that, but I knew I would be super chuffed if I just kept going. When I was really struggling, I thought about my friend Cath, who has ruptured her Achilles tendon in the first week of training for London Marathon just a few days previously, and used her as an inspiration to not give up. I was glad to see that finish line though and I was super happy to get a half marathon PB of 2hrs 5mins on Strava or 2hrs 6mins according to the race stats, but was even happier to have run every step. Disclaimer: It is still ok to walk, I just wanted to see if I could do a race without walking!
The Eeyore-ness (definitely a word) of the Exeter Marathon had been replaced with a bit of Tigger-ness! My aim for this year was to run a 10k and a half marathon without stopping and Swansea had delivered. I also found that I could appreciate my fellow runners and the supporters more. This was my first real race on my own since the Bristol 10k before Dad had even died and where this blog started. Since then, I had always managed to race with friends or John to help mitigate the pre-race nerves, even if we ended up running separately. I know now that most runners are really lovely. They are very supportive and friendly, as are the supporters. You enjoy friendships that last a few seconds or minutes along the way. No-one is out to tell you that you are rubbish and the feeling of being one of the last to be picked for the team is irrelevant.
Running for Dad 