Tag Archives: road racing

Shepperdine Marathon: race report

by Ben

Background and training summary

I’m both not that keen on running long races, and honestly not that experienced at it. Of the 85 races I ran from 2012 to 2020, only one was longer than 20 miles (the Snowdonia Trail Marathon) and fourteen were over 10 miles (around 16%). In fact, since running Snowdonia in the summer of 2018, I did 19 races, the longest of which was a 10-miler. Over half were 10k races. Through the summer, I often raced two or even three times a month.

So when Covid returned in winter 2020, my first thought was to keep working on what has been a target since 2017: a sub-40 minute 10k. But… I also had a crazy thought: without the continuous grind of 10k races, maybe I could train for a marathon…

I had got into a good training groove through the latter half of 2020, hitting good (for me) monthly mileages:

July: 113 miles
August: 130 miles
September: 138 miles
October: 128 miles
November: 100 miles
December: 103 miles

My overall mileage was okay, but my long runs sat at around 10 miles, so in January and February I started to work them up a bit longer; 14, 15, 17, 14, 18, 20… and then we moved house, roughly a month before the race. Let me tell you, moving house just before a big race is not ideal preparation! But still, my monthly mileages remained okay:

January: 102 miles
February: 123 miles
March: 111 miles
April: 115 miles (including the marathon)

Pre-race

As I mentioned above, my only previous marathon was off-road and went over Snowdon. So I didn’t have anything like a representative time. Based on my 10k times race converters suggested I could run something around 3:15, but I am well aware of my own capabilities and experience. As well as very rarely running longer races, I know that my body just isn’t that well suited for it. So I added a bit on, rounded it off, and came up with a target of 3:30.

This was quite a personal target – mostly I was telling people that I just wanted to get a good representative time, and would be happy with whatever I got if the race felt like it went well. You know, that rubbish.

Due to Covid restrictions, the race was pretty barebones, which honestly suits me quite well, as I’m used to small local races anyway. I’ve never really fancied the idea of a big city marathon. My only real concern was what looked like a lack of hydration stations, so I resolved to train with, and expect to race with, a hydration vest (actually a Montane VIA Jaws 10 litre pack for those interested, with bottles, not a bladder).

On race day, I arrived with a fair amount of time, and as it was a rolling individual start, I could more or less start at any point within a two-hour window, although I did have a recommended start time. My only real concern at this point was that after a couple of months of training in wet, cold conditions, the sun had come out in force, and it was that typical ‘London Marathon April Sunday’ – one of the first “hot” days of the year. And… for reasons, I didn’t end up putting sun cream on.

The race

One of the nice things with targeting a 3:30 marathon is that the pacing is pretty simple. It is pretty much 8 minute miles. Mentally, this is a comfortable pace for me to run over distance; the group I lead with the running club runs at 7:30 to 8:00 pace, and anything at “effort” is normally between 6:45 and 7:15. So I headed out with a plan of aiming for around 7:50 per mile, hoping that would be easy enough, while still giving me a bit of a time buffer in case I slowed towards the end.

So, obviously, my first mile was 7:36, followed by a 7:29. But honestly, it felt pretty nice and comfortable, so I decided to sort of stick with it; I decided to ease back a little, but settle at around 7:40. The course was an extended lollipop: a 5.5-mile ‘stick’ with three five-mile loops, and then back along the stick to the finish, just beyond the start. The overall course was pretty damn flat – my Strava recorded 417 feet across the whole thing, but the out-and-back “stick” did have some noticeable rises and falls. They all felt pretty friendly on the way out though!

The rolling start meant that I was continually passing people, and quite often being passed by others – there was no real way of gauging your pace other than simply by feel and your watch. Even so, I managed to run pretty consistently: according to Strava my first five 5km splits were 23:33, 23:54, 23:52, 24:09 and 24:18. That took me to just over 16 miles, and the start of the third loop.

Ah… the marathon runner’s grimace. Yeah… this was about 20 metres in.

The looped nature of the course had been a little bit of a worry – especially as at one point it had been advertised as a five-lap route! But I knew that the marathon would be as much as mental fight for me as a physical one, so I just viewed it as another part of the battle. And honestly, while it was a little bit difficult (I won’t lie, towards the end of that second loop, I was quite tempted just to call it quits and head back), it was fine.

Starting that third loop, my mile splits had slipped to around 7:50, but I wasn’t really that worried. I was still splitting under 8:00, which meant I was still gaining time on my target of 3:30. I figured that with some slower miles towards the end, I was looking at a good chance of somewhere around 3:25, and was feeling pretty happy with the idea. Maybe this marathon lark wasn’t as bad as it seemed?

So, of course, then things started to go a little bit wrong. I got little niggles of cramp in my right leg; both my hamstring and groin. Nothing too bad, but worries in my head. I was drinking plenty of water, but it was hot, I was sweating a lot, and probably hadn’t been taking on gels regularly enough. The combination of the hot sun and the wind, which was quite a strong headwind on the latter half of each loop was getting to me, mentally as much as physically.

My splits began to slip more, but I still wasn’t too worried, I had time in hand. 8:10, 8:06, 8:19, that’s fine, I can manage that. Then, just as I was nearing the end of mile 21, disaster. My left hamstring cramped up completely. Just seized – I couldn’t run, I couldn’t walk. Heck, I couldn’t really move my leg at all. I could see the 21-mile marker just ahead of me, but it didn’t matter, I couldn’t move.

But then I had a bit of water, took a bit of time, stretched my leg out, and managed to start slowly walking. As I did so, it freed up, and I could walk more naturally, and eventually start running, slowly, again. Physically, I was back in action, but mentally, I was thrown. I still had over five miles to go, and I was limping along. The aid station was only about half a mile back – shouldn’t I just go back there, DNF and get a lift back? Did I really want to hobble another five miles?!

I kept going, but I was hyper aware of my hamstring (and any other potential cramping muscles). I was mentally broken, the fatigue of the marathon catching up with me. I was run/walking, not necessarily because of the injury, but just because it had all become too much. The next four miles came in at 9:18, 9:25, 9:05 and 9:46, and hopes of sub-3:30 were gone. That knowledge made things worse – mile 25 was an 11:01. I just couldn’t really be bothered anymore.

Then, I knew I was getting closer to the end. I was still run/walking, but I knew I just had a mile and a bit to go, and you know what, I could still get some sort of time. A 9:35 for mile 26 was hardly setting the world alight, but mentally I’d won, I had come back from the darkness. I actually cracked out something of a sprint finish, sort of, at the end.

I finished in a time of 3:37:21, and once I got over the initial disappointment of the wheels falling off, I was happy enough with it. Sure, it isn’t the best I could do. But you know what, that’s the marathon. Two YouTubers that I follow both did marathons that day (in fact one did Shepperdine), and neither of them went to plan. Sometimes, rarely, the perfect marathon happens. But mostly, it goes wrong to varying degrees, and that’s what happened to me. You live, you learn, you improve.

So, does that mean I might give the marathon another go? Maybe. I’ve got that itch to try again, to fix the things that went wrong and to get that sub-3:30. But… I still hate long runs.

Run Exe Winter 5: race report

by Ben

Within reason, I’m racing more or less anything I can find at the moment, given the dearth of races. But that said, this race was organised by City Runs, who I’ve always heard good things about, and was along Exmouth promenade, which is as flat as you can get. As an added bonus (of sorts) I’ve never raced a 5 miler before, so it was a guaranteed PB!

The race did have two potential downsides: it was on a Tuesday evening, and racing is always slightly tougher in the evening; and Exmouth promenade is very exposed to the weather, so if there was any wind, it would have an impact on my race.

This event was a trial race, ahead of a planned monthly series. My current running is all based around improving my 10k time, and a 5-mile race is a great substitute for the 10k distance, so hopefully I can get as many of these done as possible to benchmark my progress (weather and Covid-depending, of course).

Race day

Things worked out quite conveniently, and I was actually doing a training course at home on race day, which meant that I wasn’t as exhausted as I might have ended up. It also meant that I was a bit more in control of what and when I ate, so really I had close to ideal preparation. I took my weekend runs pretty easy ahead of the race, and was rewarded with the rarely seen “Peaking” from my Garmin: result!

I headed down in plenty of time, and arrived on the promenade about 50 minutes before my start time. The race was organised into waves of six runners, each released a minute apart. I was in the fourth wave, giving me a 7:03 start time. I had a little wander around, used the toilet, and then warmed up along the course, just to get a feel for the route. (Sure, it was just along the promenade, but it was also getting pretty dark, so I wanted to check out how good the pavement was and stuff…)

The race was twice out-and-back along the promenade, so each leg was 1.25 miles. The wind had died down from earlier in the day, and was also coming off the sea, which meant that for most of the course it was a cross-wind, rather than a headwind, though it did feel slightly against you on each of the “back” parts of the course.

Race

Soon enough, it was time to get into my ‘race pen’. Each pen was coned off with plenty of space for six people to socially distance, and the race rules also meant that we had to wear a face covering until 30 seconds before we started. I opted for a buff, which I then put onto my wrist as a sweatband, which I tend to wear anyway.

3-2-1-GO: It soon became clear that I didn’t want to run as fast as the other guys in my group, and I let them move away from me. I was still dragged along a little quicker than I should have been, I probably went through the first quarter of a mile averaging sub-6 minute miles, which is far too fast for me. But, I regained a bit of discipline, and brought my pace back under control within the first mile.

I started passing slower runners from the earlier waves within about half a mile, and not much later I, in turn, started to be passed by quicker runners from later waves. Although this was quite odd, constantly passing and being passed by other runners, it did mean that it was rare to be alone for long during the race.

My first mile came in a little bit quicker than I had been aiming for: 6:26. My expectation was that something around 6:30 would be about the quickest I would manage. Even though there was only a slight wind, I planned to focus on good “out” legs, to try and offset any time-loss in the “back” legs.

According to Strava, I slotted into a decent rhythm for the rest of the race. It felt like it was just getting harder and harder, and my pace was falling off a cliff, but actually, it was pretty perfect. I clocked through the middle three miles in 6:32, 6:34 and 6:33. Honestly, I don’t think I could have hoped for any better, even if it felt like my legs were going to fall off. I absolutely did not realise how well it had gone until I got home and checked Strava: I even told Lolly that I’d run a horrible positive split. (In fact, I ran a to-the-second-perfect even split.)

The second lap was quieter than the first, but there were still plenty of other runners about, going in both directions, so the race was never lonely. I had seen the “race leaders” during my first “back” leg; they had started in the final wave, and I wondered if they would catch up with me. Some quick mental maths suggested that they probably wouldn’t. Spoiler: I was wrong.

I was starting to really feel the exhaustion in my legs during the final mile. The start/finish end of the course was not that well lit for long sections, and by this point, there were few to no runners heading back the other way. Then, with around a third of a mile left, the lead (well, not exactly) bike passed me: “Keep left, lead runners coming through.”

The finish area was exceptionally well lit!

The combination of the bike, and then the runners gave me an injection of pace, allowing me to be dragged along behind them slightly. Sure, they were running over a minute per mile quicker than me, so I couldn’t actually keep up with them, but it still gave me that push (well, pull) when I needed it. I completed the final mile in 6:31, to finish in 33:00 exactly. (Sure, my mile times don’t add up to 33:00: my GPS tracked 5.07 miles, so there are another 23 seconds, but whatever.)

Summary

Before the race I’d used McMillan Running to work out some decent race paces.

My recent 10k PB at the Power Run 10k had been 41:57 in windy conditions: that was equivalent to 33:30, so that had been my minimum target: Done.
The next target at 10k, which had been my target at the Power Run 10k was 41:00, that was the equivalent of 32:44: Not done: target for the next race.
The ultimate target of my current 10k training is 39:59, which is the equivalent of 31:56: Not done: target by the end of the winter, maybe?

Did I enjoy this race? Yes, definitely.
Would I do this race again? Yes, definitely.
What’s next? Probably the next of these. I had another race cancel, the Big Cheese, a 15-mile hilly trail race, so I guess my training now can be completely focused on this flat and fast stuff.

Power Run 10k @ Exeter Racecourse: race report

by Ben

Turns out that this is a bit of a long one, sorry about that…

In January of this year, I ran the Waves on the Prom 5k, and three days later, I also ran the Storm Force 10. It turns out, three days is the shortest span I’ve ever had between two races. I didn’t expect it to be another eight months (to the day) before I ran another race: the longest span I’ve ever had between two races. The reason for this is obvious (in case you are reading this years later for some odd reason, it was the Covid pandemic). I had a few races booked, but they, like most, were cancelled.

I had some ankle issues in February/March, and was then furloughed at the start of April. I then went through a pretty inconsistent patch: I’d have a few good weeks, then a couple of weeks when I really couldn’t be bothered and barely got out. That sort of pattern continued for a while, until I picked up another niggly injury around June. Finally though, I strung some consistency together: 113 miles in July and 130 in August, never dropping below a 25-mile week since the start of July.

I looked around, fancying a crack at my 10k PB, the lowest-dangling fruit of my collection of PBs: 42:06 set at the 2017 Chard Flyer. I had come close twice in 2019, running 42:23 at the Pawlett Plod, shortly followed by 42:28 at the Wessex 10k. I found the Power Run 10k advertised at Exeter Racecourse, and set myself a crash four-week training plan to hone my speed.

Okay, so the training plan was actually just an adaptation of Runner’s World’s 4-week 10k training for 5 days a week. It mostly involved dropping the mileage of my long run from what I had been doing (around the half-marathon distance) and focusing more on quality mileage. I stuck to the interval sessions, but a lot of the other runs got adapted to fit in with life better.

Race-day

I wondered what affect socially-distanced racing would have on my day. I was definitely more nervous pre-race than I normally would be, although that might have been the combination of the period of time since my last race, combined with the pressure and expectation of going for a PB time. (The last time I beat a PB was actually that 2017 10k…)

The race instructions were great: very clear on what would happen, and what was expected of runners. There would be no water station, so bring your own water. It was three and a third laps of the race course service road. The start would be a mass rolling start, to avoid us all standing close together in a pack. Each race would have multiple waves, so only restricted numbers of runners would be on the course at a time. Come ready to run, collect your own medal after. Very stripped back.

I arrived about 45 minutes before the race was due to start. I was directed into the car park: “Park wherever you like, but leave an empty space between you and the next car. The toilets are over there..” Yes, that was my next stop. On the way back I had a bit of a chat with Chris, another RFRC member who had run in the first wave. He gave me some useful information: the wind is horrible, and it is hillier than you might think.

Okay: my initial target had been to run something around 41 minutes. I had always hoped to take it easy early on and then assess it, but hearing about the course cemented that in my mind, especially given I was out of practice at the whole racing thing.

The chat was useful, but it also meant that I ended up running a bit late. Normally I aim to warm-up for about fifteen minutes, but I had to make do with an abbreviated seven minutes – that’ll teach me for chatting too long!

Race

At the start, we were funnelled into three files approached the line: I was in the second row from the front, as everybody else had declared that they were too far forwards, and dropped back. As we shot off, I made a concerted effort NOT to shoot off too fast, while also bearing in mind that the pace gap would be much smaller than usual: the sub-40 guys were in later wave. A few people went past me, and I settled in around eighth or ninth. Through the first kilometre, I let a gap grow between me and the leading pack, while inadvertently, I also developed a gap from the group behind me, leaving me somewhat in no man’s land. Great.

I was glad of my chat with Chris for the mental preparation: on the far side of the lap, it dropped down a dip, and then rose back up to our starting position. At the start of the second lap, turning onto the main straight revealed a horrible headwind during the gentle ascent. I hadn’t noticed it first lap, probably through a combination of the pack ahead of me, and early-race adrenaline. The pack ahead of me started to break up, and runners fell back towards me. Each runner gave me a little target, but I knew it was still important for me to be disciplined and run my own race.

Consistent pacing was impossible with an undulating course and a steady headwind along the finishing straight. There was also the slight oddity that the dip on the other side of the course was slightly protected from the wind, and so felt quite hot under the sun – such variety in a 3 km loop! I concentrated on strong, consistent effort, albeit with a slight increase during the descent, figuring that it played to my strengths and was the least sapping part of the course to press a little harder.

I passed the halfway stage, 5 km, in around 20:30, which told me that a 41-ish finishing time was out of the window, and I immediately began readjusting my thoughts for something around 42, if I could hold on for that.

I never used to be too keen on multi-lap courses, or at least the idea of them. But touring around so many parkruns has got me used to the concept, and honestly, it was quite nice today. After the first lap, I was able to plan better, knowing where I would lose and gain time. Each kilometre marker I set myself a target time to reach the next marker, bearing in mind whether it was a faster or slower part of the course. I not only considered how quickly I thought I could cover that section, but also what that would leave me needing in the remainder of the race: ‘If I reach 8 km in 33 minutes, I have nine minutes to do that final two kilometres, that should be doable.’

I worked my way through the field, and entered the final lap fourth in the wave: the chap in first was way ahead, but both second and third seemed to be falling back towards me. I closed in on third and passed him through the dip, as we hit 8 km: 33:05. I started to push from here; normally 2 km would be a little too far out, but I knew that most of the last kilometre would just be about holding on into that headwind, so if I was going to make an impact, it was now.

I pressed as the course rose out of the dip and along the back straight, and ran that penultimate kilometre in 4:04, closing the gap significantly on the guy in second. I continued to close in as we rounded the bend onto the home straight, a roughly 600 metre stretch to the finish. I tucked in behind him to shield myself from the wind, hoping to draft for a while before moving out towards the end, depending on how our time was looking.

Even behind him, the wind felt horrible, but I also felt like I had more to give. The pace felt like it was slowing too much, and I stepped out from behind him. Oh, okay, that’s definitely worse. I tucked back in. We passed the ‘400 m to go’ board with just under two minutes in hand. That should be easy enough?!

I stepped out again, but again, I couldn’t make an impression, and tucked back in. We were both getting quicker now: whether he reacted to my move, or it was just the closing push, I don’t know. Either way, I felt pretty sure we’d make it in under 42 minutes. In the final 20-30 metres, I moved into a gentle sprint, as did he: maybe if we had genuinely been battling over second, I could have pushed for an all-out sprint and beaten him, but it didn’t really matter. He finished in 41:55, and I finished in 41:57, officially a nine-second PB.

Post-race

I grabbed my medal, and chatted to a few of the other finishers, during which we mostly commiserated each other on the wind. On the way home, I stopped for McDonalds at the very handy restaurant which is less than a mile from the race course: great post-race fuelling!

Forgive the poor quality – it’s a screenshot of my Instagram story…

I’m pretty chuffed with the effort. Although I ended up around a minute slower than my vague target, I think that on a flatter, less windy course, I would have easily achieved that. I ran strong, and with a consistent effort that I maintained to the finish. I ran the first lap in 12:25, the second in 13:00, and the third in 12:50; then it was just the horrible final drag to the end.

Now I’m just champing at the bit for an opportunity to prove that I can run faster, and finally beat the 10k distance PB that I set during the 2016 Great Bristol Half Marathon.

Did I enjoy this race? Yes, definitely.
Would I do this race again? Yes, probably.
What’s next? No idea. I’m signed up for The Big Cheese (which I ran before, back in 2017), but I might find something else before then. Or… a second wave might put an end to races for the year.

Wellington Monument Race: race report

by Ben

The last few months have been pretty quiet for me on the racing front. Way back in July and August, I ran the Pawlett Plod and the Wessex 10k, posting my third and fourth fastest 10k times. I had then hoped to run the Taunton 10k to set a new 10k PB. Unfortunately, I basically didn’t bother to put in the hard yards in training, and didn’t run Taunton at all. Since then, my training has continued to be inconsistent until a few weeks ago. And, although I have managed to improve my consistency, I am still lower on mileage than I would like to be.

All that said and considered, the Wellington Monument Race was never going to be a PB attempt. It starts in Hemyock, roughly 128 metres above sea-level, and then climbs and climbs to Wellington Monument, the world’s tallest three-sided obelisk, about 272 metres above sea-level. Then we turn around, and go all the way back down (and up, a little). The monument is having some work done at the moment, so isn’t quite as picturesque as usual – this also had a slight knock-on effort on the race distance.

Wellington Monument vs Wellington Monument at the moment…

For some reason (probably mostly because it isn’t in the Somerset Series), this is a race that I’ve never done before, even though it is under half an hour from home. In fact, although Wellington Monument is in Somerset, Hemyock is in Devon – thankfully I wasn’t asked for my passport though. (They are funny, thems Devon folk.)

Pre-race

A local race meant a bit of a lie-in, although only until 8 am, as the race was a 10 am start. Originally Lolly was going to take Lani down to Exeter for junior parkrun, but Lani sensibly decided to have a morning off: they will be plenty of opportunities to parkrun over the next week or so! Despite the whole family now being free, I travelled down alone, and found a parking space in the village, just under half a mile from the start.

After making sure I had everything I needed from the car, and nothing much that I didn’t, I headed over to Hemyock Primary School, which hosted the race. It was all pretty easy and straightforward: number collected, pre-race poo, number pinned onto vest, warm-up run, hoodie stashed, jog to the start. During the jog to the start, I realised that I was a bit warm with a long-sleeve tee under my race vest, and found a fellow RFRC member who was spectating to abandon it with.

The race

Compared to most of the races I do, this one attracted a fast field. I had noticed this when I checked the entry list the evening before, but it became even more obvious when I was waiting at the start. He’s quicker than me, he’s quicker than me, he’s definitely quicker than me… But this was never about time or position – for once I was just racing for the… uhmmm, fun(?)… of it.

The race started on a road junction about quarter of a mile away from the school, and then dropped down through the village… Ah, ‘dropped down’. In an out-and-back. Bummer dude. I had done minimal homework on this race – as far as I was aware it was an out-and-back in which the first half was uphill, and the second half downhill. With a short muddy stretch at the top around the Monument. Maybe I should have done more research – it was clearly a little more nuanced.

I mostly focused on trying not to run too fast, before the hill started. But then… blimey. Again, a lack of research meant that I didn’t realise that the first climb out out of Hemyock was the toughest part of the whole race. I survived that climb by using a common strategy: If no one else I can see is walking, then I don’t need to walk either… Around a mile and a half in, the course then descended gently for half a mile. Oh blimey, not again! Andy, who I used to run with regularly, was marshalling at this point and shouted some encouragement at me, but I was so zoned in on the run, and the effort, that I didn’t really notice who it was until it was too late to respond!

Actually, I think this is sort of bollocks, given that it isn’t really a mirror image: that bit near the end should be as low as the bit at the start. This Garmin elevation monitor thing obviously isn’t working great. But anyway, observe steep climb near the start.

The course climbed again after that short descent, but the hill was less vicious now, and was softened somewhat by the knowledge that there was less than a mile of ‘up’ left. A left turn was coned off and very well marshalled, and then we crossed the road into a muddy car park to make the last bit of the ascent to the monument. In all honesty, by this stage it was barely a climb at all. Because of the renovation work on the monument, we just rounded some cones and a marshal at the top, and then it was just back again!

The descent was relatively straightforward. On the top part of the hill, it was gentle enough to encourage without being too dramatic. The half-mile ‘climb’ where Andy was marshalling didn’t feel too bad; it was mostly just flat, rather than a hill either way. I even managed to thank him this time around, and apologise for not doing so on the way up!

After Andy’s marshalling spot though was the steep drop; the part that had been so horrible on the way up. I hoped that my downhill running would help me here, but in all honesty, the field was so spread by this point that it didn’t really make much difference. I went past one chap who looked like he was struggling with something, and I closed in on another runner, but as soon as the course levelled off I stopped gaining on him.

For me, this last part was the toughest of the whole race. Thankfully, someone had told me beforehand that the finish was at the school, and thus that extra quarter of a mile beyond the start line. It was a slog back up through the village, with more of a climb up to the school itself. In reality, it should have faded into insignificance in comparison to the main climb we had endured earlier in the race. But that isn’t how running works.

Still, despite having no one around me, I think I managed to push myself well enough to the finish. I did feel that the marshalling, which was so good all the way around the course, could have done with being a bit clearer, and more present, for that final climb. I naturally found myself on the pavement, only to be shouted at very late on that I needed to move onto the road, which left me dodging through a narrow gap between parked cars to do so. But that was probably just me.

I didn’t look at my watch when I crossed the finish line. In fact, I didn’t check my time until a few hours after the race. As I said, it wasn’t really that sort of race for me. However, I’m pretty chuffed with a 43:44. Roughly speaking, I ran 23:34 for the first half of the race and 20:10 for the second half. Which is pretty good, but also slightly disappointing that I didn’t manage to run sub-20 for the predominantly downhill 5k…

On the other hand, using Strava’s ‘grade-adjusted pace’, my 43:44 is equivalent to a 41:42 on a flat course, which would have been a PB, so, you know. Not so bad. In a fortnight I have the Stoke Stampede, which I ran way back in December 2013, my first ever sub-50 minute 10k. There would be a nice symmetry to it being my first sub-40, but there is no way I’m in that sort of form. But maybe, just maybe, I can get the PB I’m craving?

Post race

Immediately after the race, I had a chat in the school hall with Nadine, and then collected my cider from Emma. I ambled back through the village towards my car, but stopped to have a lengthy chinwag with Simon, before eventually I got too cold, and headed to my car. Did I mentioned that this race was very local, and so I knew a lot of the volunteers? The support, not just from those I knew, was exceptional throughout the race.

On my drive home, I stopped off for a foot-long Chicken Pizziola from Subway… because Subway is good post-race ‘recovery’ food.

Did I enjoy this race? Sort of. I mean, no. But yes.
Would I do this race again? Yes, probably.
What’s next? Race-wise, the Stoke Stampede on 5 January 2020, but there’s a Christmas Day parkrun and two New Years’ Day parkruns before then…

Wessex 10k: race report

by Ben

Right, how does this writing thing work? I’ve missed a few race reports; the last one I wrote was for the Town Tree Trail, back in May. Since then I’ve ran the Crewkerne 10k (abandoned draft blog post), Piddle Wood Plod, the Quantock Beast (another abandoned post), and the Pawlett Plod. As a quick summary:

Crewkerne 10k: pretty good
Piddle Wood Plod: meh
Quantock Beast: good
Pawlett Plod: felt not great, but pretty good actually

This race was the first part of my planned summer of speed, aiming to improve my 10k PB, and ideally set a sub-40 time. Unfortunately, after a good first half of my eight-week training ahead of this race, the wheels fell off somewhat, and I’ve barely done anything over the last four weeks. So, coming into this race, I didn’t really know what I’d be able to do. Sub-40 wasn’t going to be in the picture, but maybe I could still get a new 10k PB? To review, my planned targets are:

Gold: 39:59 (sub-40)
Silver: 41:23 (distance PB)
Bronze: 42:05 (race PB)

Pre-race

I chose the Wessex 10k because it described itself as “a fairly flat mainly road”. I had a look at some of the Strava traces from last year, and decided that the hill looked small enough that this could still be considered a decent PB route. The date also worked out quite nicely, and I seem to recall that it was priced relatively reasonably too. (Just checked, £16.) What I failed to notice until a couple of weeks before the race was that it was a 19:00 start time on the Saturday; I had spotted it was on a Saturday, but not that it was an evening race. This threw me off a little: I have it in my head that I don’t race so well in the evening, and I was just annoyed at not having noticed.

In the end though, being in the evening worked quite well; it meant that we still had all of the day on Saturday as a family, and would have on Sunday too (though I’m sat here writing this, so go figure.) I left just after five, which gave me lots of time to get to Somerton and then bimble around for plenty of time before the start. I didn’t have to worry about registration, as the race number had been sent out through the post. Just after half six I started my warm-up; I had intended to go for a longer warm-up, as I generally find them more effective, but it ended up being just over a mile, which is about my normal.

At around five to seven, we started to gather at the start line, and I got chatting to another chap on the start line, but it quickly became apparent that I wouldn’t be using him as a pacer; he was aiming for around 38 minutes! In the inaugural race in 2018, only six runners went sub-40, so I was half aware that there might not be too many ahead of me, and so lined up in the front row.

The race

I almost managed to not go off too fast. As I wasn’t too sure what time I would be capable of, I opted to aim for 41 minutes, and see what happened. That would equate to a time of 4:06 per kilometre. After the initial rush, I settled down to 3:55 for the first kilometre, which was pretty flat, heading out of the sports club, along the main road, and then hooked right onto the back-roads. It was obvious that there were more quick runners than in 2018, but that was to be expected for the second year of an event.

Shortly after the end of the first kilometre, we started to drop down the hill; this was the same one that we would return up later. And, well, it looked worse than I had hoped. In place of the gentle slope I had been expecting, or at least hoping for, was a genuine hill. Okay, no worries, I could make time up heading down the hill, and just see how well I could hold on up the hill in the second half. Downhill-assisted, the second kilometre clocked in at 3:45, and the third, still with a modest descent, was 3:58, leaving me 40 seconds up on an even-split 41:00 time. But of course, it wouldn’t be an even-split race, and I was aware that I could lose close to that same 40 seconds on the hill alone.

Any hopes of managing to make up more time, or at least hold steady were immediately dashed, as at the 3 km marker, we started on the rough stuff. A dusty, rocky, pot-holed farm track. This wasn’t part of my plan, and brought back memories of the Bridgwater 10k way back in 2014, when I destroyed myself chasing a PB on a course with a farm-track in the middle. Thankfully, I’m a bit more experienced now, but I was still losing time against my 41 minute target. Partly, this was probably just lack of fitness due to my reduced training lately, but the terrain clearly won’t have helped. Through the fourth and fifth kilometres, I clocked 4:13 and 4:19, taking me through five kilometres in 20:11; still theoretically 19 seconds up on my target, but in reality, starting to really struggle.

I’d developed an odd pain high on my chest; either my lung or a muscular pain, I couldn’t tell which. It was annoying without being debilitating, but I was very much hoping that it didn’t get worse. Just after the halfway stage, we had the only drinks station on the course, from which I took a quick swig, and then we returned to the road. I tried to get my legs turning over a bit quicker on the better surface, but to little avail; the next three kilometres came in at 4:36, 4:30, 4:30.

Not the best running form late in the race! (Credit: Martin Edwards)

Then the hill hit. It actually was not so bad as I had worried; I managed to run up the whole thing. That shouldn’t have been an achievement, but I’ve really struggled with hills this year for some reason, so I was pretty proud of it. The hill last for pretty much a whole kilometre, starting just before the 8 km marker in actual fact, and correspondingly, finished just before 9 km. It was by far my slowest kilometre of the race, a 4:54, but Strava’s grade-adjusted pace (GAP) was 4:25, which was quicker than my GAP for kilometres six and seven.

Over the top of the hill, and I knew I just had a kilometre to go. I willed my body to run faster, damn it! I managed it. Not consistently, but effectively; I oscillated between a 3:50 and 4:20 pace, and despite telling myself that I was now in energy-saving mode ahead of another race on Wednesday, I engaged in a sprint-finish when the runner behind me tried to get past. Helped by his push at the end, I ducked in just under 42 and a half minutes, officially posting a time of 42:28.

Post-race

After getting my breath back from my quick finish, I grabbed a cup of water, and then had another chat with the chap I’d been taking to before the race. After a quick analysis of each of our races, I commented that I noticed he was from 26.2 RRC (the best running club in Surbiton), made famous by Danny Norman on the With Me Now podcast. It turned out that I’d been chatting to none other than Chauffeur Ramek – what a small world it is! After some more parkrun chat, we headed off our different ways.

The medal was really nice; probably the second biggest in my collection, though I don’t really do the type of races that give big medals. (Because I’m cheap.) (Because I race so much that if I did expensive races, we would miss our mortgage payments.)

How about my time? It ranks as my fourth best 10k time; just behind my Pawlett Plod time from a few weeks ago:

42:06, Chard Flyer, January 2017
42:19, Battle of Sedgemoor 10k, August 2015
42:23, Pawlett Plod, July 2019
42:28, Wessex 10k, August 2019
43:18, Round the Tor 10k, May 2016

That two of my quickest ever 10k times have come this year is encouraging. That my two overall quickest times are two and four years old respectively is disappointing. It’s another eight weeks now until the Taunton 10k, and if I want to get a new PB, then I simply have to put the training in. No excuses.

Did I enjoy this race? If I’m honest, not really. But that was no fault of the race, or the course. Sure, I’d have liked the hill to be flatter, and the rough track to be smoother. In reality though, I just wasn’t fit enough to run this race as I wanted.
Would I do this race again? Probably not, no. I signed up hoping that it was a good PB course, and it wasn’t really. If it was a Somerset Series race, I’d do it and enjoy it well enough, I’m sure. But as a standalone race, it probably won’t be for me again. Never say never though, I guess.
What’s next? The Haselbury Trail 10k on Wednesday.

I don’t want to race (Yeovilton 5k race report)

by Lolly

I don’t want to race.
I’m tired.
I feel rundown.
I don’t want to see people.
I just want to curl up and read.
But I’ve signed up, so I’ll go.

I don’t know where anything is.
The air is hot and heavy.
I don’t run well in the evening.
I pick up my number.
I get changed.
I hide in my car.

I feel silly warming up next to fast people.
I avoid conversations.
I’m uncomfortable waiting for the start.
I listen to the race brief.
I start running.
I want to get sub-25 today.

I hate running round the car park.
I hate there jostling for position.
I hate how fast the 25 pacer has gone off.
I feel broken already.
I’m glad I warmed up though.
I just don’t want to race.

I’m way behind at 1k.
I hope the marker was wrong.
I need to keep pushing.
I start to feel stronger.
I’m only just behind at 2k.
I start to believe.

I struggle with tiny undulations.
I worry that there might be more.
I barely notice people cheering.
I’m getting tired.
I try to keep focused.
I’ve slipped a bit at 3k.

I hear my 2 mile beep.
I know I need to give it my all.
I don’t know if my all is enough.
I start to get stomach cramps.
I’m so close to time at 4k.
But how fast can I run the final 1?

I turn back onto the main road.
I pass the 25 minute pacer.
He says we’re 15 seconds ahead.
I know he’s wrong.
I start to feel sick.
I might not actually finish at all.

I turn towards the finish.
I see the clock.
I give it my all.
I know it won’t be enough.
I keep going.
I don’t want to.

I watch the number tick over.
24:57, 24:58, 24:59, 25:00, 25:01…
I cross the line.
I didn’t make it.
I’ve failed.
And I feel really really sick.

I walk to my car.
I have a drink.
I text a couple of people.
I try to take it all in.
I try to tell myself I’ll do it next time.
But will I want to try again?

I get changed.
I buy cake and squash.
I talk to nice people.
I tell them I failed my goal.
I admit that my PB had been 25:41.
They remind me I did really well.

I eat and drink.
I start to feel better.
I drive home.
I think about my new 25:03 PB.
I didn’t want to race.
But I did.

Babcary 7.5: race report

by Ben

The second part of my weekend back-to-back, after completing leg one of the Hills to Coast Relay with Minehead RC the day before. This was also my second visit to the Babcary 7.5 mile road race, which I also ran last year.

This race, like all of those in the Somerset Series, was pencilled into my diary as soon as I knew the date. It’s a bit of an oddity of a race – 7.5 miles is hardly a normal race distance, and the profile of this course means that it isn’t particularly quick either. But that is part of the joy of this race – it’s challenging no matter what.

No matter where they take us, We’ll find our own way back. (Well, actually we’ll follow the hi-vis arrows and marshals…)

My legs – nay, my whole body – was feeling pretty rundown after the relay on Saturday. Apparently 1,000 ft over 10 km in just under 54 minutes isn’t brushed off too easily. That said, I wanted to run 10 miles on Sunday in terms of progression for The Big Cheese race in a few weeks, and also in preparation for my upcoming marathon training for the Snowdonia Trail Marathon. Bizarrely, running a 7.5 mile race, and topping the mileage up with a warm-up and cool down seemed a preferential option to 10 easy miles on my own.

Generally, my preparation for this race was awful. Not just the fact I’d raced the day before, but also the fact that at 9:15 I still hadn’t really started packing. The race was about 35 minutes away, and on-the-day entries officially closed at 10:30. I also had no fuel in my car and no cash to actually pay for entry….

After some rather rushed packing, I was off. Via a cash machine and a petrol station. About halfway there, I was getting confused; my sat nav was trying to send me an odd route, and I was getting concerned that maybe a road was closed ahead. I pulled over, and realised that I’d written down the wrong postcode. A quick search on Strava for last year’s activity, and I simply put the street name into the sat nav, et voilà!

So, about that rushed packing. When I arrived, I found I was missing my running socks. And my Garmin. Thankfully, I was wearing socks, so I just had to give my Fozzy Bear socks their running debut. The Garmin situation was also averted, as I had my FlipBelt with me, so was able to pop my phone into that with Strava tracking the run. Because after all…

The Race

My race strategy was much as at the relay the day before, and at this event last year. It was nothing special: ‘take it easy early, get a feel for your capabilities, see what you can do later’. Largely, I think I managed to stick to the plan. I held back on the initial climb, and then allowed a few runners that I’d normally run with slip away ahead of me. I was a little concerned that Graham, my usual Somerset Series sparring partner was still near me, but the positions of everyone else told me I was about right.

The whole race undulates – although none of the climbs are particularly tough, it is non-stop. Uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill, uphill… you get the idea. My first two miles were significantly down in pace compared to last year, dropping about a minute between the two. Shortly after this, on the climb that started at around 2.5 miles, my legs started to feel pretty wiped. I’d dropped back from Graham and another Wells City Harrier, while a third was now running with me, having caught me around the two mile marker.

As I spent the next half mile climbing that particular hill, I was starting to seriously doubt the wisdom of racing two days in a row after a six month absence. While I was never in danger of dropping out of the race, I did worry that I might embarrass myself by falling like a rock through the field. However, as hard as it felt, I found that I wasn’t really dropping back from the group in front, nor were those behind closing the gap. I settled in, and remembered that racing never feels easy. It’s kind of the point.

I lost another couple of minutes compared to last year over the undulations of the middle few miles. As we ran through one village, I had a little faux race with one of the spectators, who looked to be coming out of her garden to stand with some friends. It was a nice little mental break from the race, though it only lasted a few metres! Otherwise, there was little to mark these middle miles – I went up some hills, down some hills, passed some barns. You get the idea.

Interestingly, my pace over miles six and seven was actually very close to last year; 7:20 and 7:08 this year, compared with 7:12 and 7:08 last. Finally it seems that my efforts to take it easy early in a race actually came to some fruition. The final half mile is the reverse of the start, and drops back down hill. With no one forty yards either side of me, I didn’t push too hard, but kept a decent pace that removed any real possibility of me being overtaken. Last year, I had a sprint finish with Graham which saw me peak at about 4:45/mile. This year, after easing my pace up to 5:50/mile down the hill, I slowed back down to cross the finish line. Twentieth overall, and eighteenth male, is a solid finish for me in terms of the Somerset Series; in each of the last two years I’ve averaged around 21 to 22 per race.

After a mile and a half cool down (mileage top-up) I was done. My two-race weekend was concluded. I grabbed some lunch from Burger King just down the road, and headed back. This morning (Monday) I had some serious DOMS. But now, this evening, it seems okay. And I seem to have planned a 2,000 ft run for tomorrow…