All Good Things...

... And in this case, some mediocre things too.

This blog has seen its final race report, the last moan about injury, the endmost celebration of parkrun. Okay, okay, you can stop celebrating now, it isn't all good news.

This is less of a goodbye, and more of a "see you on the other side". Specifically, Wordpress. This year, I've been running a lot less, due to my injury, while my better half has been running a lot more. You might have seen a couple of her guest posts on here when she has raced. So, we've opted to begin a joint blog, "Running in Series" (...but never in parallel). If you have this blog bookmarked, or follow it on Bloglovin', update your links: https://runninginseries.wordpress.com/.

Round the Tor 10k: Lolly's race report

Ben: My knee injury seems to have come back with a bit of a vengeance, so my running has very much taken a back seat to my wife's lately. Over the weekend, she ran the Glastonbury Round the Tor 10k, taking my place, and she was kind enough to write up her thoughts for me:

This year started really well for me in terms of running.  Training runs got stronger as they got longer, and my parkrun times dropped below the magical 30 minute mark.  So of course, just before my first race of the year I got a chest infection.   Plans were changed, and I found myself watching the 10k on the Isle of Man instead of chasing a new PB.  Thankfully, though, the illness was shorter this time and my strength came right back.  Then the plans changed again.  Ben didn't think his knee was up to racing in the Round the Tor 10k, so it was my chance to go instead.

When I agreed to take part in the race I only really knew 3 things about it:
a) it's 10k
b) it's in the Somerset Series
c) it doesn't go up the Tor
The last one was fairly crucial for my decision making process.  The night before the race we looked up the course to get an idea of elevation.  I'm so glad we did.

Numbers were collected on the morning of the race as they had chips attached.  As a slower-than-average runner I very much appreciate any race that uses chip times!  We arrived at the Town Hall as other races were setting off.  Once we found where to go there seemed to be decent systems in place, but there was definitely effort required to find the right place amongst a mass of people.  Thankfully we arrived just as earlier races were setting off - any earlier and I suspect it may have been more difficult.

Saying goodbye to my support crew, I then followed the snake of people making their way to the start.  It being my first 'local' race I wasn't really sure what to expect at the start.  There were the mats for the chips, and then a couple of people holding a rope across to hold people back.  Not quite what I'd imagined, given instructions about who could stand in the first section.  I walked what I hoped was far back enough, and then hung around at the side until the start.  Which was quite a while really, as we got going at least 10 minutes late.  There were some announcements over the PA, but they were pretty inaudible.

But then there was a shuffle forward and the magic moment of running.  I started my Garmin a few paces before the line and set off at a very steady pace.  Very, very steady.  I got passed by a lot of people round the first corner as we headed down towards the Town Hall.  That was fine though, as I had a much longer game-plan in mind.

Not sure the girl in purple was impressed.

After the Town Hall, the course headed up the High Street.  Up being the key word there.  The support here was amazing - definitely boosted by the large gathering of parents and children waiting to do the fun run.  At the top of the hill I saw my husband and daughter, and started to settle into a rhythm.

From there the course works its way out to the edge of the town, including a slightly random out-and-back down a side road.  Slightly demoralising given the 'out' is downhill.  Around that point I caught up with a fellow running club member, and we ended up staying together for about half the race which was nice.  Once out of the town the setting changed to country roads surrounded by fields.  Taking in the views, I happened to look over to my right at a break in the trees and see Glastonbury Tor.  It struck me at that point that people travel a long way to see the Tor, and I was lucky enough to be running around it.  Possibly a sign of how well things were going that I could think like that.

I'd been watch-watching the whole way.  However much I tried to tell myself that any PB would be a great achievement, in my heart I wanted a sub-60.  So I was looking to keep my average pace around 9:30 a mile (to allow for me not running the optimal route).  After the initial (planned) slower start, I'd got my pace there and kept it until around the 4k mark.  And I'd overtaken a fair few of those people who'd sped past me initially.  Then... hill.

Ok, so it wasn't actually too bad a hill.  Mostly it was the weather.  The day before had been lovely and cold, but this was hot with very heavy air.  So the hill seemed a lot worse.  I passed a couple more club members on the way up, and the mutual support was a nice morale boost.  And the knowledge of a water station at the top helped to keep me going.

Even with the climb and slowing down for water my pace was still where I wanted.  Looking at my wrist at the 5k mark I was excited and nervous in equal measure.  30:03.  It was definitely on, but there was definitely still more work to do.  The rolling country roads reminded me of a recent enjoyable training run.  Somehow the distance kept ticking over and my pace didn't drop.

Around the 7k mark I saw one of our amazing club supporters at the side of the road.  Cheers make all the difference, and combined with another water station I felt ready to face the final stages.  After a little more undulating country road we reached the town again.  My pace had remained on target, and it looked like it would all come down to my time at the 9k mark and the shape of the final section.

Oh look, a big hill. Run around it!

I missed the 9k sign.  There were a few worried minutes, but after a while I realised that I must have just missed it.  Nothing left to do then but to keep up the pace.  What you really want to see at that stage of a race is a sign saying 'Welcome to Heartbreak Hill'.  Oh lovely.

The vast majority of runners ahead of me had slowed to a walk.  My tactic was to break it into smaller hills.  'Run to the red car'.  'Now run, slower, to the next car'.  The hill started to really get to me and I considered whether I'd be better off walking.  Then I saw my husband and daughter at the top of the hill and so I had to keep running.  My husband shouted something along the lines of 'I told you it was flat'.  I had better things to do with my energy than to make a rude reply.

Passing one of the race photographers it was then well-and-truly the last stretch of the race as it headed downhill back towards the Town Hall.  Downhill sections near the end of the race are always great for starting a sprint-finish.  The final part of the course was straight, and so the clock could be seen from a way off.  I'm terrible at judging distances and knowing how long it will take me to run them.  So when I saw the clock time started with 58 I gave it everything I had.

Another of our club supporters was cheering near the end.  I fear I may have hardly acknowledged him.  All those sprint-finishes at parkrun had taught my legs what to do.  Shortly before the line an exhausted wave of emotion hit me.  I didn't need chip timing, I was going to make it on gun time.

This was the better of the sprint finish photos. Honest!

 

Slightly overwhelmed, I stopped my watch a few paces after the line and slowly walked to collect my medal.  It was the shortest finish funnel I've seen, and it took quite a lot of determination to locate the water table further down the road.  If I hadn't been assured it was there I'd have given up trying to get through the mass of people.  The remainder of post-race treatment was better.  Once I actually looked at the medal I realised it's quite a nice one, which always helps.  The results appeared online in a timely fashion, and the official race photos were free to download, making the race amazing value for money.

On a personal level, I left Glastonbury with a slightly surreal feeling of achievement.  Oh, and a new PB of course.  I can now say I have run 10k in 0:59:13.  Yes, I've included the hours - I worked extremely hard for that zero!

Done it!

Isle of Man Easter Festival of Running 10k (2015): race report

Something has changed within me

Something is not the same

I'm through with playing by the rules

Of someone else's game

Too late for second-guessing

Too late to rest and be done

It's time to trust my instincts

Close my eyes and run!

It's time to try

Defying injury

I think I'll try

Defying injury

And you can't stop me now!

Roughly a year ago, I completed the 10k element of the Isle of Man Easter Festival of Running, and this year I had been looking forward to taking part in the full festival, including the hill race and the 5k as well. But this hasn't really been my year for running: prior to travelling to the island, I had completed 35 miles total since 5 January, when I picked up my knee injury. Normally, that would be perhaps a week and a half of training.

So, the ummm-ing and ahhh-ing started. I scheduled in a 5 mile run for the weekend before the race: my longest single run since the injury. It went well, but I still had doubts. After all, 35 miles hardly seems sufficient training for a 10k race. Especially not in such a stop-start fashion. On the other hand, I'd signed up for the Chard Flyer on 1 January, and had to DNS. I'd signed up for the Humdinger Half in February, and had to DNS. I'd signed up for the Bath Half in March, and had to DNS. And those were just the races I had actually signed up for. There were a few others that I'd pencilled in too - you get the idea.

I came to the following conclusions:

• I wanted to run the 10k race.
• Running the 10k race off 35 miles training was foolhardy.
• But I wanted to run it, dammit!
• Okay, well maybe just running the 10k race would be okay, if I took it reasonably easy.
• Hmmm... how about the hill race and 5k?
• Don't push it, stop being an idiot. Look, there are plenty of races in the next few months you can do with proper training.
• But they're ages away. Strop.

I decided to defer the decision yet further, and base it upon a short run once I'd arrived on the island. Coming the day after over twelve hours of travelling, that run went awfully, giving me the indication that perhaps I should follow my head rather than my heart, and give the whole thing a miss. Needless to say, the next day, my head was given significantly less of a say in the matter. At lunchtime I had that well known pre-race favourite: a burger and a beer. An hour before the race, I was still undecided, causing all sorts of strife for my in-laws, who were trying to work out when dinner should be. Sorry about that.

Inevitably, ten minutes before the race started, I turned up. Which was about the same time as four students from Leeds University. They had been scheduled to come over on the ferry, which had been due to arrive at 14:00. Various problems and delays meant that at 17:00, it was still in Liverpool. By this stage, the students had made a dash to the airport, and caught a last-minute flight over to make the race in time, the plane landing less than 45 minutes before the start of the race!

Race plan, mile one: Take it easy, particularly up the hill.
Race summary, mile one: Stood at the back of the pack for the start. Got stuck behind a group of slow runners. Sped up to get around slow runners. Decided I liked speed, kept going. Got to hill, remembered that I like sprinting up hills. Did so, passing lots of runners. Remembered that I liked passing runners. Watch beeped, 7:46 minute mile. Well that's okay, that isn't too fast.

Just under a mile completed, not looking too bad yet. Credit: Dave Kneen.

Race plan, mile two: Actually take it easy, don't get carried away.
Race summary, mile two: Okay, this is the last real chance to drop out and just go back home. That wouldn't go well with the wife and in-laws who have adjusted evening plans for race. Feel fine anyway. Keep going. Still passing people; maybe I should have started a bit earlier in the pack. Watch beeped, 7:34 minute mile. Hmm...

Race plan, miles three and four: Start taking it easy, it's been fine so far, but don't push it.
Race summary, mile three and four: Long gradual downhill stretch to reach the sea. Downhills are fun too, they are easier, and faster! Might as well let my legs free a bit along this stretch as it is downhill. Course then follows the coastal path for a while. Hmm... three miles is about as far as I've run hard lately. Water station: manned by only two people, who only have time to refill plastic cups, not able to hand cups to people. Grab cup, knocking most of water out of it, try to drink the rest of the water from cup, but mostly swallow air. Decide I would have been better without it. Prepare myself for uphill, but discover the course change from last year means that it doesn't happen. Worry about when it will. Watch beeps, 7:20, 7:24 minute miles. Sod it, I wonder if I can beat my time from last year. Hmm... I wonder what my time was last year.

Looking less fresh running along the coast in Port St Mary. Credit: Murray Lambden.

Race plan, mile five: A bit of climbing, definitely time to take it easy, let's just get to the end.
Race summary, five five: Oh God, my calves! Breathing fine, heart rate okay, legs leaden. Every step is a preceded by a small argument between legs and rest of body. Pace drops, but still passing people, including some of the university runners, which is a boost. Try not to be too silly, don't want the embarrassment of watching them all pass me again in a mile. Watch beeped, 7:50 minute mile; slowest of the race, but still far better than I expected at all.

Turning back to home, a rare decent race pic!
Credit: Bill Dale.

Race plan, miles six point two one: Sod it, whatever.
Race summary, miles six point two one: Okay, all downhill from here. Well, except that uphill bit at the end. Damn that uphill bit at the end. Oh, that's my father-in-law in his back garden. Oh, and my wife. (At this point, I think I went a little delusional: I seemed to come to the conclusion that because I was pretty much guaranteed to finish, I didn't have to put any more effort in.) I cruised down the final descent to Port Erin bay. Just the curve around the bay left, time to put in a bit more effort. Can't really be bothered. Don't really have any effort to put in anyway. Just keep running. People in front getting away, being passed. Don't like being passed. Should try to keep up. Too hard. Never mind. Get to finish, 47:07. Still don't remember what I got last year.

Eugh, shouldn't have turned down the offer from my father-in-law to bring me a hoodie at the end, it's cold. Thankfully, my amazing wife soon appeared with the hoodie, and even better, we then headed to the Chinese for a takeaway: clearly the best recovery food known to any runner.

Race analysis: Once home, I checked Strava, and discovered that my time last year was 47:00. I'd done that about a month after a half marathon for which I'd trained pretty extensively. Whereas this year, I was seven seconds slower, despite pretty much no training because of injury. So from that point of view, I can take a massive positive in my "base fitness" being significantly better than this time last year. Another positive was simply being able to complete 10k; it was a risk doing the run, and I'd genuinely started unsure as to whether I would finish. On the other hand, I do remain injured: when I'm running it's fine, but when I'm walking, or even just sitting down, my knee is sore. I'm planning a number of 10k races in the early summer after a few weeks of training, and hopefully that training will work as rehabilitation for my knee. Hopefully.

More snakes than ladders...

In the last week, I've been chomping at the bit. Those words, "Don't run before our next appointment" haunted me. Within a few days my knee felt good, I was tentatively trying it out up stairs and in short sprints across the road. I knew it was better, but I was good, and I waited for my appointment.

Some more massage, and a chat about running plans led to further horror: "I think you should leave it another few days, and perhaps go for a short run at the start of next week." Really? Did he not realise that I was all fixed and ready to run miles and miles and miles and miles? Did he not know that I had a two half marathons in the next seven weeks?

100% accurate representation of how I felt.

What he perhaps did know, or have an inkling of, was that I wasn't fixed.

He gave me a plan: two short, gentle runs this week. I figured if I did the first on Monday, and the second on Wednesday, then I might be able to sneak another one in on Saturday if everything went well. So it was that, full of excitement, and slightly scared, I was dressed in that sexy fluorescent yellow once again. I decided upon a nice little three mile loop that I knew well.

It was great! Well - the first mile was. No pain at all, just a nice mile completed in nine minutes. I was chuffed, and started to work out how I would add the mileage back in to get me up to a decent distance for the Bath Half. Then my knee started to ache. Then my knee started to ache more. Then my knee started to ache really quite badly. Then I stopped. I'd completed two miles, and I practically hobbled the third mile home.

Stairs are once again my nemesis, merely standing causes unreasonable discomfort. I still have a vague hope that I might be able to get out for a short run later this week, but if I do, it might be on a one mile loop! More likely, I'm going to give my leg a decent rest, and reassess things in a week or so. If I can persuade myself to be that patient. In the mean time, I'm going to have to live vicariously through my wife's running: wonder if she fancies a ten miler at the weekend, I know a really good route...

Back in the Physio's Room

Ah. My running of the past few years has come full circle. A persistent knee injury in late 2012 brought a spell of regular running to a halt, and resulted in a lengthy spell of physiotherapy and rehabilitation. I've seen my physioregularly since for sports massage, but last week was the first time I'd been back to see him for an injury. And really, it was probably all my own stupid fault...

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn't get much running done over Christmas: a bug struck me down for a couple of weeks. Prior to that, I'd been running pretty well: three Sunday long runs in excess of 10 miles, and plenty of variety in there too. Over the Christmas/New Year fortnight, I ran a parkrun on Christmas Day, another ten days later, and then a 10 mile run the day after that. And that, as they say, was that.

The 10 miler was actually alright: I felt pretty good on it, took it at a pretty gentle pace, and actually enjoyed the run. For the rest of the day though, my knees made it well known that they hadn't enjoyed the run. Stairs were not fun, carrying my daughter around was not fun, and carrying my daughter up the stairs: ha! In the evening, I had a short session with the foam roller to try and sort things out:

Right. I give in. My knees (and legs in general) have been complaining all day. Foam roller of death it is. I blame you @SomersetPhysio.
— Ben Timmo (@bentimmo) January 4, 2015

In retrospect, I clearly should have eased back into things a little more: if I'd had time off because of a niggle, I would have done. But with it being a spot of illness, I didn't really think about it. And... if this was my only sin, I'd probably be back running again already. What followed... was sheer idiocy.

Time and time again, both within my club, and generally through Twitter and running magazines, I've been told that you should steer clear of speed-work if you have even the inkling of an injury.

Time and time again, both within my club, and generally though Twitter, I advise people with an injury or discomfort to either rest completely, or to do a gentle recovery-style run.

Medicinal peas!

So, on Monday, with sore knees that still strongly disliked stairs, I must surely have rested, or gone for a nice plod along the canal, right? No, of course not. Like a complete lunatic I went to a club track session. I completed, I think, 8 laps of the track. Although that somewhat overstates how much I ran: two warm-up laps, five laps of the session, and then one "is this as bad as.... ARGHHHHH, yes it is" lap. That last lap was taken at a very slow jog, for about 150 metres, before even that was too painful, and I made do with an awkward hobble.

On Tuesday, I went to work, pumped full of a combination of painkillers that I found in our medicine drawer: things were not looking good for getting back out again that week.

On Wednesday, I felt sorry for myself.

On Thursday, I felt sorry for myself.

On Friday, I continued to feel sorry for myself, but also decided to do something about it. I managed to secure an appointment later that same day to see my physio. Part of me had been quite scared about taking this step. My rehab from my previous knee problem had taken months, and I couldn't really bear to consider that this could take a similar length of time. Of course, looking back, I have to admit that I wasn't very... assiduous at completing my daily exercises.

And so, on Friday afternoon, I found myself back in the physio's room. After ascertaining exactly where the pain was, and which movements triggered it, and which did not, I received an ITB massage. Generally, I get on fine with sports massage: while plenty of people complain about them, I don't find them too painful. An ITB massage though, that hurts. Still, I left with instructions to massage the ITB with my foam roller, a set of exercises to complete each day. Oh, and those horrible words "Don't run before our next appointment."

I made our next appointment for as soon as I could.

Christmas lurgy and getting going again

So, like many, I had an unintended lull in my training over Christmas due to a horrible cough/cold combo. I'd always planned to drop the mileage a little, but in the last two weeks, I've done 17 miles. That doesn't sound too bad, you might think, but 13.1 of those miles were done this weekend! I missed two races that I'd been looking forward to over the Christmas period: I hadn't signed up for the Stoke Stampede, but probably would have done on the day, while the Chard Flyer on New Year's Day I had paid for. Still, I really didn't have any choice in the matter, so there is no use getting too annoyed about it. Though it does mean that I probably won't run a 10k road race for over 6 months: my last was at the end of September, and my next scheduled is the start of April.

Yes Strava... a "rest".

My focus now switches to my spring half marathons. In the three weeks before Christmas, my long runs were all just over 10 miles, and I was averaging well over 20 miles a week. I set a parkrun PB at the start of November, and a road 5k PB in early December, so I know that despite this little setback, I'm running pretty well. My focus in the next few weeks is making my long runs long, maintaining a good variety of runs, and strengthening work. I don't know when I'll fit the last in, because it's something I've never scheduled in, and always the first thing to get dropped if I have other things to do. (And with a 15-month-old daughter, there are always other things to do!)

I've avoided the temptation of the "review" blog for the most part: suffice to say that I easily hit all of my targets for last year, and my targets for the year going forward aren't really set. I have a few things in mind, but to be honest, I don't know how quickly I can improve. My focus is going to be on running well, and racing fun. Yes, I want that 10k PB, I want that half-marathon PB. I definitely want to go sub-20 for 5k. But I want to try more trail races, some odd distances, some hilly races. I'm hoping to get out and do a fair number of races in the Somerset Series: they're local, and generally pretty reasonably priced. There are generally a few people I know at each, and they offer the variety that I'm after.

parkrun tourism: Pomphrey Hill

At the weekend, my wife and I headed off again to try out another parkrun. This time, a Christmas party in Bristol with my wife's family was the excuse. There are four parkruns in and around Bristol: Ashton Court, Little Stoke, Pomphrey Hill and Chipping Sodbury. There is also one in Bath. As we were staying in Keynsham the two most logical options were Pomphrey Hill and Bath, and despite the worrying aspect of the name, we went for Pomphrey Hill.

As luck(?) would have it, Ira Rainey (one of them there Twitter folk: @IraRainey) was run director for the day, so I had a ready source of information for the event, and it would be a good excuse to meet him face to face. (In a public environment, in case he turned out to be a mad axe-murderer.) He proved to both supply good information, recommending trail shoes rather than road shoes, and not be a mad axe-murderer (at least, not on a Saturday morning...)

A cold and frosty morning for a run. (Credit: Ira Rainey)

I wasn't too keen on the idea of three laps, but on the other hand, I'd raced in the Street 5k series early in the week, and that consisted of five laps, so three didn't seem quite so bad. The run briefing was fun and interactive, and definitely one that other parkruns could learn from. For example, asking if any runners have hit an "anniversary run" helps to avoid cliquishness that might otherwise set in. With all that done, we were asked to step back behind the line, which ruined my cunning plan to shave half a second off my finishing time!

Pomphrey Hill is quite a small parkrun, typically attracting less than 100 runners: with this in mind, and a look at previous results, I knew that I should be running in and around the top 10, an unusually lofty position, and one that normally means I've set off far too fast!

So, the course:
In many ways, of the local parkruns I've done in the past couple of months, this one was most similar to our own at Longrun Meadow. It was run entirely on paths around a playing field, though they varied between light gravel, tarmac and bark. The major difference was the hill. Longrun Meadow is pretty pancake like. Pomphrey Hill, as the name might suggest, is not. The cry of "Up Pomphrey!" during the run briefing gave me the idea that this possibly was not "just" a hill. Actually, as Ira pointed out at the end, it's only actually just under 40 ft of climb. However, the steepness, combined with the fact that this was the spongy bark-covered part of the course made it more sapping than perhaps it should have been. Of course, what goes up must come down, and in its own way, the descent was as difficult as the ascent: the frosty morning meant that despite the salt that had been put down, footing was a little hairy on the tarmac path back down the hill.

The great advantage of multiple laps is the obvious fact that after the first time around, you know what's coming and can adjust your pace in anticipation: be that slowing for a hill, or accelerating because there isn't far left. The disadvantage is that when you have just got to the top of a hill, you are aware that you still have to run up it another twice!! Still, on balance I think I actually quite enjoyed the shorter laps, as it helped me to maintain a more consistent pace than I typically manage at Longrun Meadow.

Back to my run:
I spent much of the race in tenth place, and pushed up to eighth on the climb Up Pomphrey on the final lap. Despite actually being slower up and down the hill on my third lap, I held on to eighth place, and even put in a trademark sprint finish to cement it. Once I'd finished I looped back on the course a little bit to cheer on my wife, who was coming around to start her final lap, and had a chat to a couple of the other runners. Unsurprisingly for a parkrun, particularly a small one, everyone was very friendly and chatty: it's great to be part of such a nice community, even when miles from home!

Final analysis: I finished in 21:05, my second fastest parkrun anywhere, which was something of a surprise given how much harder the course felt (and the fact that my watch said 21:22, but no more about that!) My wife completed her first parkrun since July, since when she has been beset with chest problems. All in all, a good fun morning, and a course we both want to go back to.

Brent Knoll: race report

In mid-October, I completed my second half-marathon, Exeter's Great West Run (you can read about how I did here), which was my last major race of the year. However, to end my season, I decided to book in the Brent Knoll race. Brent Knoll is a 137 metres (449 feet) high hill a couple of miles from Burnham-on-Sea. Apparently, one of King Arthur's knights, "Ider son of Nuth", went to the hill on a quest to slay three giants. Or so says Wikipedia. While I didn't spot any giants, I can report that the hill itself certainly felt like a giant one!

The race started at a very sociable time: 11:30. I know that it isn't really a practical time to start a summer race, but at this time of the year, I certainly appreciated the later start. I travelled up on my own, and didn't know of anyone else doing the race, but as I was idling around waiting for everything to get going, I heard a cry of "Ben". I ignored it. Yes, I'm called Ben, and yes, that's what was shouted, but I just assumed it was for someone else. When the shout was repeated, louder, I decided to pay some attention, and saw Rob, Kerry, Chris, Eliza and Louise from my running club!

Louise, Eliza, Chris and me, looking very
clean prior to the race. (Photo credit: Rob Murr)

After posing for a few photos, we headed off to the start line, where I saw a fellow parkrunner, Andy, and had a quick chat to him. Before we knew it though, the (pretty quiet) announcer at the start called 3-2-1-Go, and we shot off. Knowing that Andy tends to beat me at parkrun, I let him ahead of me, but then stuck pretty close behind him. At least, I did until I saw him hopping out of a muddy puddle: his shoe had come off! The route, which heads out from Burnham to Brent Knoll, is flat for the first mile and a half, which I completed in about 7:30 min/mile. The subsequent mile and a half was done at about 10:50 min/mile. That mile and a half included the two significant hill climbs.

The first climb was the smaller of the two, but the terrain made it, in my opinion, much the harder. It was the slowest part of the race, and there were a couple of points that I was genuinely on my hands and feet, scrambling for some, any, sort of grip. More than once a fistful of grass stopped me from slipping back down the slope. To add to the chaos, everyone had their own idea of which route was the best, and this resulted in mass of bodies all frantically trying to just reach the top. Despite my worries that it would only take one overeager person near the top to slip and take us all out, the climb was eventually completed, and the course levelled back out for a while.

I would love to say that the level section allowed me to regain my energy and breath to attack the second hill. Actually, I just ran like a mad person to try and make up for the "time lost" scrambling up the hill, and as a result I slowed to a walk almost as soon as the second incline began. The footing was much better this time though, and after a while there were even steps. Oh, the luxury. Despite this, no one around me looked to even be contemplating running, and I certainly wasn't going to be the only idiot! But on reaching the top, the first stride off the step was back into a run. No time to stop and admire the wondrous views, ya know, this is a race!

Okay, I did have a glance around and take in what I could, and it was stunning, but I certainly didn't have the time to do it justice. A quick half loop of the top, and we were heading back down again. For this section of the race I have to thank the chap in front of me, who demonstrated an effective technique which I shamelessly copied. I'm sure all fell runners are aware of it, but it is essentially to continue to lean slightly forwards, and to zig-zag down the hill. The pair of us passed a number of runners as we descended. In the back of my mind, the next descent was starting to loom large: I'd struggled to scramble up it, how the heck was I going to safely get down it?!

Well, as it turns out, with a commando roll.

My mind began to buzz about the hill as we approached it: I didn't know how people would be attempting it: crawling back down, scrambling, sliding? It turned out, just running. The runner who was now in front of me (not the downhill expert) lost his footing at one point and slid a couple of metres on his bum, and then in the same place, my foot went completely from under me. I have little recollection of exactly how I rolled, but the mud was on my elbow, back and bum. Thankfully, after one roll I was back on my feet, and still running down the hill at pace. Amazingly too, I'm bruise-free!

With that descent safely (ish) navigated, it was just the level slog back to the start/finish, though by this stage, my legs were feeling decidedly tired! With just over a mile to go I was passed by another runner, and after a short argument, I convinced my legs to speed up a little and keep pace with him. I essentially dragged myself along behind him, and then, like the bastard that I am, I found that little bit extra and passed him in a sprint finish.

In fact, I was then told off by Rob and Kerry, as I'd ruined their photos by running too fast. They suggested that I go back and do the finish again to get better ones. I demurred.

I finished with a time of 51:11, which was probably faster than I was expecting to go, although the conditions were probably better than in the past couple of years, which I'd used as my benchmark for times. Andy came in about a minute after me, having lost his shoe twice more during the race: possibly tighter lacing is needed! I was surprised, but pleased, to receive a finisher's medal, as I hadn't seen anything about one in the race information!

So, it might have seemed mad to make my celebratory end of season race a muddy hill climb, but all in all, I had a great time, and will probably be back again next year!

The off-season: 11 top tips for things to do during enforced rest

After the Great West Run in October, I always planned to let my body have a bit of a rest. In fact, I was basically prepared to give it the rest of October and all of November. Now, admittedly, this wasn't complete rest. Just dropping down to a comfortable three runs a week, totalling about 12-15 miles. Apparently though, my body didn't appreciate the efforts I was going to, and took matters into its own hands. Or more accurately, lungs.

Which left me with more time on my hands than I expected to have. So here are my 11 top tips for things to do during the off-season.*

  1) Book races
Okay, so I might be ill now, but that's no reason not to book out the whole of January, February and March with races right? I joked to a friend yesterday that my "long-term planner" is actually just my race diary. It wasn't actually a joke. I don't race as regularly as many, but I've got three races definitely booked, and another four pencilled in. Just in the first three months of next year. Oops.

  2) Buy winter kit
That first day that you step out the door and think "by jove, it's cold" (or however your mental voice would phrase it) is the time to stock up on winter running gear. I've been pretty good this year, and only picked up a couple of things so far: an extra hi-viz t-shirt, and a compression top that matches my running club vest. Because, you know, I don't want to clash.

  3) Sort running kit drawer
While we're on the topic of the kit, is it really still necessary to have four different vests in the drawer? Now that it's cold I'm surely going to do clothes washing often enough to only need a couple of those right? And where did I hide those gloves away? And what is that?

Okay. I haven't actually sorted it yet. I keep looking at it
and then finding something else to do. Can't think why.

  4) Watch a box-set / complete a video game / read a trilogy
Remember that box-set you got for Christmas, but never managed to watch because you were out running? Now you can watch all 24 episodes! Or that video game you started, but then just sort of... forgot about. Or that trilogy that looks really good, but you're worried that if you don't read them quickly, you'll forget who all the characters are. Seriously, I've completed about 25% of Grand Theft Auto during this "rest", and that isn't a small game.

  5) Volunteer at parkrun
If you can't run... volunteer! I don't think that slogan will catch on. Also, it turns out that if you go and volunteer on a cold day with horizontal driving rain, and a chest infection, you then develop a fever to go with it. I don't recommend the pair, individually or paired up. So, if you're resting due to illness, maybe skip this idea.

  6) Read everybody else's blogs and get jealous
Actually, now that I think about it, this one isn't ideal. I mean, it's great to be able to catch up with what you're all doing and stuff. But seriously people, why don't you all take a couple of weeks off too, just to make sure that I don't get jealous. Thank you.

  7) Write a training plan
New season: new plan. In my case, the new plan is basically the same as the old plan, but with two extra runs added in, and a longer long run. I'm hoping that nobody notices that both of the extra runs have been added on the same day. I'm sure mentioning it won't make it any more obvious. Ho hum.

On the back of an envelope, obviously.

  8) Write your Christmas list
This probably only works if you're reading this roughly when it is published. If you're catching up, or randomly found this on Google and it's February, maybe give it a miss. But otherwise, start scribbling that list down: new trainers, new Garmin, that swanky Nike top with the thumb-holes in the sleeves...

  9) Eat
Because it's a proven fact that the next best thing to running is eating. Try out some new recipes: plenty of those that took too long to consider when you had to factor a run in are now perfectly do-able. Of course, you might need to think about going for slightly less calorific options, but that just adds another challenge into the cooking, and might expand your repertoire! Me - I'm thinking Chocolate Fondant and a couple of new curries. Not together. Probably.

Sadly, this is not one I've made. Hopefully mine will
look this ace though. (credit: Robin, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

  10) Polish and sort medals
So, they've been hung up on the wall for a while now. They could probably do with a dust and polish. Now that I look at them, the display is a little imbalanced too: all the long ones are on one side, which looks a bit odd. But if I move that one over, the colours will clash. This could take a while.

  11) Rest
Oh yeah, I sort of forgot about this one, but I think it's pretty important. Rest. Whether enforced or not, let the body have a bit of a break so that any ongoing niggles can sort themselves out and you'll be fit and raring to go for the next season .. next week .. tomorrow.

So there you go, 11 things to keep you going when you're not running. I'm sure I've missed some important things out though, what do you do to stay occupied and reasonably sane during some down-time from running? Do you just go crazy?

* By "top" I mean, the first ones I thought of. And by "tips" I don't mean suggestions. Actually, they're just "things".

parkrun tourism: Yeovil Montacute

A couple of weeks ago, I headed out for a little more parkrun tourism. It came hot on the heels of a visit to Killerton, and was the last week in a five-week absence from my home parkrun (rest, illness, Killerton, rest, Yeovil). I was quite tempted to just head to my home run after so long away, but this bit of tourism had been planned for a while, so I stuck with the plan.

Location:
This is technically the next closest parkrun to me after Longrun Meadow, although the differing quality of the roads means that it takes more or less the same time to do the 22 mile drive to Yeovil Montacute as it does to drive 28 miles to Killerton. Like Killerton, the Yeovil Montacute run is located in the grounds of a National Trust property. Unlike Killerton, the route goes right past the house, with the east façade (pictured) providing a gorgeous backdrop to the run. Admittedly, despite the size and glamour of the building, my attention was elsewhere while running!

The stunning Montacute House (credit: Mike Searle, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Terrain:

Again, this varied completely from either of Longrun Meadow or Killerton. The route was entirely run on grass, and undulated throughout. The course was reasonably dry when I ran it, but I suspect that some of the ditches that I dropped down into would get quite tasty in the winter months. In fact, the ditch jumps, which Sarah (@mia79gbr) raved about so much in her blog post back in April, were the main reason I wanted to do this course so much. What I did forget reading in her post was that there was a "massive hill in the last kilometre". This did catch me a little by surprise. It shouldn't have done, but it did. Underfoot, the course is most similar to a cross-country course: my trail shoes performed admirably, but a set of XC spikes would probably be the most effective. Once it gets a bit wetter, this isn't a course I'd recommend attempting in normal road shoes, I suspect you'd slip all over the place!

Course:

The route takes in one "little lap" and one "big lap". At the end of the first lap, the little one, you are running directly towards the house, the finish and all the cheering supporters. This provides a similar boost to the traditional lap set-up at Longrun Meadow, although I didn't see a similar boost in pace! The big lap then completes an entire circuit of the grounds.

Summarising, I really enjoyed the run. I ran a slower time than I've achieved at either Killerton or Longrun, although my pacing was pretty awful, so that will have played a part. It is less well-attended than either of those as well, which did make the latter part of the race a little uncompetitive: it was pretty clear that I would finish 17th, no higher and no lower, for the last mile of the run. That said, as with every parkrun I've attended, the support was great from all the volunteers and spectators, and I would love to go back when it's a little bit wetter! Additionally, I'm really glad to have three such completely different courses as my three nearest parkrun events.

Exeter's Great West Run: race report

After completing the challenge of running my first half-marathon earlier this year at Silverstone, I knew I wanted to do an autumn half as well. Realistically, I had three choices: Cardiff, Bristol or the Great West Run. Cardiff and Bristol are both flat, fast courses, while the Great West, being in Exeter, is on the hilly side. I chatted to a few people, and after enjoying a few undulating 10k courses, decided to go for the Great West Run.

Oh my God, why?

Okay, okay, it wasn't actually that bad.

Race vest: ready!

Much as with the Taunton 10k, I didn't have the ideal preparation: two weeks before the race I spent pretty much the entire week off work sick, and the week directly preceding the race was a six-day week, with Friday and Saturday being taken up entirely with a stock-take. I know, woe is me! All that accounted for, I didn't feel too bad on the Sunday morning. I had spent the previous evening preparing my race kit: club kit with number attached, some food, drink and warm clothing, nothing too complicated. A 6:30 alarm was a little earlier than usual for a Sunday, but not too bad – especially as my 1-year-old daughter woke us up at 6:20 teething anyway!

Breakfast: Porridge and a glass of water, and by five past 7 I was heading out of the door. Travel and parking passed without any trouble, and I was glad to have parked in a legal place, as walking back to my car afterwards I passed plenty of cars with fixed penalty notices on them. A short walk got me to the race village, where I met up with a friend from Twitter, Matt (@MattUpston) and discussed some race strategy: he knew the course pretty well, and I was happy to take on all the local knowledge that I could!

Heading over to the start, I met up with Al, who I often run with at parkrun: we tend to finish around the same point. I probably have a slight edge at 5k, but he’d run a 1:38 half-marathon earlier in the year, so I knew if he was in that sort of form I wouldn't have a chance of keeping up! That said, we had decided to head out at around 1:45 pace, i.e. 8-minute-miles, and then see how it felt.

As you can see, we didn't really stick to that plan. The first mile was downhill, so running a quicker time along that wasn't an issue, and actually it felt good. After that we settled into a slightly slower pace, and although it might not meet the official definition of "conversational pace", we did (perhaps stupidly) proceed to have a conversation for more or less the first seven miles of the race. This did get us a few odd looks: apparently chatting is frowned upon at that pace.

Splits courtesy of Strava!

I struggled with the Little Miracles energy drink, which was at seven miles: it was sweet and sickly, and with the lid removed, the hole to drink from was the size of a milk bottle top! I took two gulps, accidentally spilling it all over my top, and then gave up on it. 

There had been a few ups and downs during the first half of the race, but with the exception of a couple of sharp hill at around the three mile mark, they had been pretty friendly. This changed as we approached eight miles. This hill I already knew about: around 150 feet up towards the university. My wife studied at Exeter, so I had plenty of experience of this part of the course, and while that didn't help physically, it was nice to know what I was facing. It was especially nice to know that after reaching the university entrance, the road drops and then climbs again, something that had a few other runners around me cursing.

I think it's fair to say that at this point Al and I both felt we were holding the other back, but amazingly we had managed to hold our pace at around 7:40. Strava suggests this was a "grade adjusted pace" of 7:19 and 7:09, and that might have contributed to my later struggles. Despite being a warm morning, from around this point I started to feel quite cold; the hairs on my arms stood up and I shivered a few times. I knew this was likely due to a fuelling failure of some kind: whether I didn't have enough sugar, water, or just energy I don't know, but it clearly wasn't a good sign. I opted for the not-very-sensible tactic of ignoring the chills and continuing along with Al.

I started to really struggle over the next two miles: I was shocked when I looked at my splits after the race and discovered that they remained around the 7:40 mark. I had been warned that the out-and-back leg along Pinhoe Road was hilly, but I had relegated it to "undulating" in my head. I managed to keep running the whole of the out leg, but as we climbed back up a hill approaching 12 miles, I told Al to head on, and dropped to a walk. After about 20-30 seconds, and spurred on by a passing runner, I started running again, but dropped down to a walk twice more over the next half mile. Another runner, whose top announced him as Paul, also walked bits, and we geed each other along for a while. Amazingly during all of this, I managed to keep Al in sight, and after taking on some water I thought I might be able to chase him back down before the finish. 

I didn't manage it: he kicked on for the final sprint after the 13 mile marker, and although I did similar, I didn't have enough to close him down. For the first time at the end of a race, I threw up within a few steps, but thankfully after sipping at the offered water, I was feeling pretty okay again within a couple of minutes. I obviously looked in a bit of trouble, as one of the marshals at the end hovered over me, asking if I was okay, and if I needed a medic. Thankfully it didn't come to that!

My time was 1:41;52, just five seconds behind Al in the end, and over ten minutes quicker than my only previous half-marathon attempt. I had mixed feelings at the end, the massive PB was obviously great, but I'd been quietly hoping for a sub-1:40 time, which I'd been on track for until those final couple of miles. That said, it was a hilly course, and I'd clearly messed up with my preparation somehow, so I was glad that having ignored my chills, I hadn't ended up in an ambulance. 

I'd like to experiment with gels before my next half, as that might provide a decent alternative to relying on race-provided energy drinks during a race. Similarly, a slightly shorter and less stressful working week leading up to the race would be nice! This morning, looking back, I'm really happy with my time on that course. 

Have you ever had the chills during a race, even when it wasn't cold?

How do you fuel before and during a half marathon?

parkrun tourism: Killerton

Firstly, a question: as a brand name, "parkrun" isn't capitalised. Grammatically this is clearly incorrect, it is a proper noun, and therefore should take a capital letter. However, as a corporate styling, it doesn't. I can cope with that. But, but... what about when it starts the sentence, then what am I meant to do?! Anyway, never mind, I went with the corporate styling, even though it offends my eyes.

Last weekend, I decided to cheat on Longrun Meadow parkrun, and pop down the road to my next closest. This isn't the first dalliance, but previously it has only been on a weekend when I was out of Taunton anyway, and everyone knows the postcode rule, right? But this time was different, I was still at home, I could have easily walked down the river for my usual Saturday morning routine, but I wanted something new, different, exciting! I wanted... Killerton parkrun.

Actually, there's a bit more to the story than that: Killerton were short of volunteers early in the week, and my wife currently isn't running, so given that we'd wanted to try the course out for a while, it seemed an ideal opportunity: she signed up to barcode scan, and I went along to run. Killerton was very, very different to Longrun Meadow, and rather than write a normal "race report" style post, I'd like to compare and contrast:

Willow Cathedral in Longrun Meadow
(credit: shuunyanet, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Location:

Killerton House (credit: Roger Cornfoot)

This is the first, and most striking difference. Longrun Meadow is part of Taunton's flood defences, and consists of paths around flood pools. A number of projects have resulted in the Oak Barn and the Willow Cathedral (pictured), but it is still essentially a flood plain! In contrast, Killerton parkrun takes place in the grounds of a National Trust property, and weaves its way through woodland down onto pasture land at the end. Not that I was doing a great deal of sightseeing during the run! Being a National Trust site did help us navigate to the run, as there were useful brown signs directing us from the motorway, although my car's sat-nav still got some use! The other obvious difference in locations was in their distance from me: Longrun Meadow is a slow twenty minute walk along the river from home. Killerton was a forty minute drive. I know which I'd generally prefer on a Saturday morning, although, with a young daughter, I'm up early enough either way!

Terrain:
As a flood plain, Longrun Meadow is almost entirely flat, and predominantly on lightly-gravelled paths. There might be some sort of technical name for the type of path, but I'm not really a path expert, so if there is, I don't know it. A short section is tarmacked cycle path, while another, dubbed "the muddy bit" is grass in the summer, and a mud-bath in the winter. Killerton on the other hand is an undulating course, though one that drops about 125 feet from start to finish, taking in fields, woodland paths and farm-tracks. The footing is uneven in places, uneven in others, and particularly hazardous with the current generous layers of autumn leaves. Thankfully, some of the gates are left open and guarded by marshals to prevent hazardous prancing over cattle-grids or vaulting over fences. (Though I hear one such manoeuvre might have been involved when the course record was set!)

Course:
Apart from the terrain, the most obvious difference between the runs is perhaps that Longrun Meadow parkrun is run over two laps, while Killerton takes in just one: and in fact as the start and finish are a few hundred metres apart, it could be argued it isn't even a lap! I've always favoured "one lap" events, citing the fact that multiple laps of the same course would be boring, and having to go around everything again would be mentally tougher. To an extent, I stand by that, but on the other hand, taking in two laps of Longrun Meadow means that we run past the finish line, where most of the volunteers, and any supporting family members are, halfway around. Whether you're struggling or not, this gives a nice little boost in the middle of the run. Not just a mental boost either: the speed increase in the graph below is replicated in almost every run I do at Longrun Meadow, and it's completely unintentional.

Not sure your cheering and clapping helps? My pace graph says it does!

At Killerton however, only the marshals provided support around the course, and while that support was welcome and well-received, it can't quite compare!

Volunteers and runners:
What wasn't different? The cheery, friendly nature of every parkrunner and volunteer. Despite being short earlier in the week, I think Killerton ended up slightly over-subscribed with volunteers as people sacrificed a run to help out. I got chatting before the race to a chap who was down visiting family, running his 49th parkrun, but his first at Killerton. We compared notes on our "home" parkruns and moaned about the hill we had to climb to the start. During the run, I did have a small problem with an unaccompanied junior runner, but these things happen, and credit to the Killerton core team, after I mentioned it, they posted a notice about junior runners on their Facebook page later that day. I hung around at the finish line, cheering runners home after I'd finished, and as always it was great to see the smiles as people pushed for the final sprint.

So the conclusion? Different, different, but same! This week, I've got to work on Saturday, but next week I'm cheating on Longrun Meadow again, and am heading out to Yeovil Montacute. I'm sorry Longrun Meadow, but I've had a taste of something different, and now I'm hooked!

Have you cheated on your "home" parkrun?

What differences and similarities did you find?

Do you want to run more different parkruns, or do you prefer to run the same one?

Taunton 10k: race report

I came into the Taunton 10k without too much expectation. I'd only entered the event because my wife was running it, and she'd been forced to miss it due to ongoing chest problems. About a month earlier, I'd smashed my 10k PB, dropping it from 46:40 to 43:44, and in all honesty I felt like that run had been a bit of a flash in the pan. I certainly didn't feel at all confident that I could reproduce it on the undulating course in Taunton. To add to this, I'd done some canoeing on the Friday night, and my legs felt all kinds of awful on Saturday. So it came as something of a surprise when I turned into the final stretch of the race and saw that the timer read 43:32, and I should get a move on. But I jump ahead of myself...

My own training had been a little haphazard for the month between the Battle of Sedgemoor 10k (BoS) and this one. I'd felt really sore for a few days after the BoS, and hadn't got back out running until the following Friday, and then after only a few days of training, I picked up a nasty stomach bug which put me out for another week. That out of the way, I managed to get back into some sort of rhythm with my running, but wasn't feeling as strong as I had before BoS. With a half marathon coming up in mid-October, I was worried about my long runs, and had considered squeezing this 10k into the middle of a longer run, sacrificing a good race time here for some valuable mileage. I managed to get a 10 mile run in the weekend before the race, and decided that gave me confidence enough for the half-marathon, and I could focus on the 10k as it deserved.

Running Forever RC were out in force for this race! *

I completed 5 one-mile reps at the track on Monday, at just slower than my intended race pace, and then went for a relaxed club run on the Wednesday. I skipped my normal Thursday run, and intended to go for a very relaxed parkrun with the buggy on Saturday morning. Canoeing aches scrapped that plan! Sunday morning I still felt pretty sore, but decided that I would go out and try to consolidate with a morale-boosting sub-45 time. Despite being my home 10k, I didn't really know the course very well, having never managed to take part before (but with a couple of DNSs).

The undulations started almost immediately, and my confidence took a bit of a hit: with my sore legs, even the relatively mild inclines were burning, and it was only the first mile! I slotted in behind a couple of guys I knew ran around my pace from parkrun, and just focussed on not letting them get away from me. The first three kilometres went through residential Taunton, before a climb over the motorway and off towards the village of Stoke St Mary, which was roughly halfway around. As always, my pacing could do with some work: my first mile was the quickest of the race: 6:52, but then I settled into a pace just over 7-minute miles.

The support around the whole course was incredible, even through the country lanes there was a surprising number of people out to cheer us along, and being a member of a Taunton running club, Running Forever RC, I gained benefit from the "home support". I won't pretend that I knew even half of the people who cheered me on with cries of "Go Running Forever!", but they all helped. As we rose over the motorway for the second time, I was buoyed by both the knowledge that this would be the last incline, and encouragement from club-mates Nadine and Dave: although the suggestion that I made it look "effortless" might have irked, I was certainly not finding it such!!

Effortless? Effortless?! Okay, I might like a little more relaxed than I felt... *

All that was left was a drop down the other side of the motorway and then a flat run for the line: but I couldn't get too excited, there was still most of a kilometre left! I pushed on, pulling away from a lady that I had passed going up the hill, and soon found myself in no-man's land: I couldn't see any runners ahead of me, and there was no one close behind me. I hate that situation at the end of a race: I like a bit of a personal challenge: to either chase someone down, or to keep ahead of someone, so it was only when I turned that final corner and saw that I was on course for a PB that I had incentive to push on and actually sprint the final twenty or so metres.

I stopped my watch at 43:40, four seconds inside my previous best, and the following day it was confirmed as 43:39. So, despite not really feeling too positive about it before, either mentally or physically, it went pretty well! It has definitely given me a mental boost, knowing that my time at BoS wasn't a one-off. I don't have any 10k races scheduled for a while now, so this PB will hang around for a bit, but I now have confidence that I'm continuing to strengthen and improve as a runner, and hopefully by the next time I race the distance I can take a bit more off again!

In the mean time, I've got Exeter's Great West Run (half marathon) in the middle of October, which is dominating my training for the next couple of weeks, and I'm taking part in a winter 5k series in Street, where I'm hoping to go sub-20 by the last race.

* Photo credits: Lainey Whitworth and Nadine Prouse.

Battle of Sedgemoor 10k: race report

In many ways, my last five months have been spent gearing up for this race. I didn't necessarily have a specific training plan laid out for it, but this was my focus race. During that time, I raced four other 10k events, and set two new PBs, inching my best time down from 47:25 to 47:00 to 46:40. But the Battle of Sedgemoor is known as a PB course, and I had my sights set on a significant new record: sub 45 minutes. Of my three resolutions for 2014, this was the only one I hadn't yet achieved.

Things started badly: a month or so ago I re-sprained my right ankle playing football, and I still haven't completely shaken the niggles off. A fortnight before the race, I hurt my left foot on a tempo run. Neither was particularly major, but between them they caused me to severely drop off my mileage in the couple of weeks before the race. I even considered taking painkillers for the race itself, but decided that I really didn't want to start down that road.

Onto race day: despite being my fifth 10k of the year, this race represented something new for me. This was the first time I would truly be racing as part of my club. Although I had done two other races since joining, there were no other club members at those races, so I was still on my own. This race had a new feel: at 9:30 we were meeting up in Taunton, to head over to Langport in convoy. This meant that at about 9:15 I had to frantically go to the petrol station to make sure I could make it to Langport!

Still, it wasn't that different: park, find race number, pin race number on, idle around, have club photo taken (okay, that was a bit different), wander over for pre-race briefing, head to start line.

So... I have a tree growing out of my head... (Photo: M. Lomax)

At the start line, disaster two struck. (To recap, disaster one was a couple of foot injuries.) Disaster two had the potential to be much, much worse. My Garmin simply would not find any GPS. This was an issue: on the back of my hand I had written pacing notes, but they would mean nothing if it didn't get some satellite signal. It's safe to say I was in a bit of a panic. Thankfully, another member of the club, Andy, was also aiming for 45 minutes, and another wasn't far behind, so I was able to initially judge my pacing off theirs to an extent.

I'd looked at the course profile before the race, and knew that the first mile to mile and a half of the race was a gentle climb. My plan had been to take this gently and then push on, but with no pacing data, I think the first kilometre was at sub 7 minute miles, and the second not much slower. Finally, about 2.5 km into the race, my Garmin started! It was useless as a stopwatch, but it allowed me to keep an eye on my pacing. I was still running with Andy, though typically one or the other of us was a few paces ahead. At the 4 km marker, I asked for a time check: 17:30: about 30 seconds quicker than I needed to be for 45 minutes. And looking at my pacing, I was still running quicker than I needed. I figured I was either doing pretty well, or was about to crash and burn.

At 4.5 km was the first drinks station: I took a plastic cup, just about managed to avoid spilling the whole thing. I then took a tiny sip, more to wet my mouth than actually drink anything, and dunked my hand into the water so I could splash my face. The next drinks station came up far too soon afterwards, at around 6 km, and I opted not to take another drink; a decision apparently shared by more or less everyone around me, as we all arrowed straight through the middle of the offering arms.

It was around this stage that I started to pull away from Andy; I knew that I was still running ahead of my target pace, and I was still a little worried about that, but I felt good, and let myself be dragged along by the other runners around me.

I must admit, I had forgotten about the incline at 7.5 km. I certainly wish the course had forgotten about it too: that hurt. Still, it is a fact that on a course that finishes more or less where it starts, any ups have corresponding downs, and the last kilometre was mostly downs. Although I hadn't had a real time-check since the 4 km mark, I knew my pace had been good since, and I could cruise the last kilometre, but on the other hand, I was still feeling pretty good, so I notched the pace up a little, which brought me close to the chap in front as I approached the finish funnel. Always one for a bit of a fast finish, I pushed to pass him through the funnel: unfortunately the cheering crowd let him know what was happening, and so he sped up. I ended up in a flat sprint; perhaps not the most sensible thing, but brilliant fun! I pipped him to the line (though our times were identical).

In all the excitement, I hadn't actually looked at the finishing clock: having crossed the line and been handed my medal, I'd found a spot in which I didn't think anyone would mind too much if I threw up (I didn't, as it turned out) and then got a cup of water. By the time I glanced back, it showed 44:05. I'd done it!

Looking at this, it's possible that the other chap didn't put quite
as much effort into his finish as I did. (Photo: M. Lomax)

I returned to the finish line in time to see Andy come through in just under 45 minutes, which meant that I didn't have to feel guilty about possibly dragging him along too quickly at the start! From there, our club runners came through regularly, and set a dizzying array of PBs.

As the photo shows, my time was actually sub-44: 43:44 in fact, almost a three minute improvement on my previous 10k best, and significantly quicker than I was aiming for. Maybe running without any pacing information at all for those first 2.5 km, and then only limited information helped me: I've suspected for a while that the mental aspect of "But I can't run that fast!" when I look at my pacing might have been holding me back. Recently Sarah (@littlerunnergal) posted, or at least re-tweeted, something about running "naked", and maybe there is some benefit in it. That said, I'm still planning on taking my Garmin along to my next race.

Shiny medal!

But for now, there are four months of the year left, and I've achieved all of my targets for the year already. Should I relax a bit and just run for the fun of it, or should I set new targets and go about hitting them?

Distance vs. Speed

In what is quite possibly the most eagerly anticipated contest since the 2009 release of Monsters vs. Aliens, I have been considering the pros and cons of trying to run quickly against trying to run further. Although there is an element of general musing about the question, it is also key to planning out my targets for next year. If what I actually want to do is run really quickly, a marathon probably isn't the best plan.

First, a little background: I did my first half-marathon in March this year, and am running my second one in October. Other than that all of my races have been at the 10k distance. Before this year, I'd only passed 10 km a handful of times in training runs - including one 10 mile run which crocked me and stopped me running for the next four months.

Me halfway around my fastest parkrun.

My fastest time is currently from Longrun Meadow parkrun, 21:06. Based on this a few formulas tell me that I should be able to run roughly a 1:37:00 half-marathon. My target time in October is 1:45:00: if I achieve that, the corresponding 5k time would be about 22:50. I understand the differences:

• I've run over 30 parkruns, and do so most weeks, while I've only done the one half-marathon.
• All of my runs are 5 km or more, whereas I've never trained over 13.1 miles.
• The predictions are completely different stages of development: parkrun has honed my 5k PB, I'm still learning about HM pacing.

On Twitter, the majority of the @UKRunChat community are aiming to run further and further: lots are signed up for the Brighton Marathon, which I think is the first (and possibly last) marathon for many, while plenty of others are looking at ultras. This has created a lot of peer pressure (not necessarily negatively) to push myself to run further too. To this end, I pencilled the Robin Hood Marathon into my 2015 calendar, despite the fact that I never really planned on running a marathon quite yet.

The thing is, as I've mentioned before, I love running fast. Running for ages? Not so much. So, I'm coming to the conclusion that for next year at least, I might enjoy my running more if I just continue to focus on shorter distances, with a few half-marathons thrown in. To reflect this, my training would have much more speed-work: threshold runs, intervals, and any "junk mile" runs would involve fartleks. Hill sprints are difficult in Taunton, although there's a few places I can go to run them, it's just a matter of getting there!

All that said, I'm not completely decided yet: is this just an element of laziness or nervousness about stepping up my distances? I think that it's just making sure then when I do step up I'm prepared and confident at the shorter stuff. I figure that marathon runners peak later in life, so while I'm still (sort of) young I can focus on running as fast as I ruddy can. I'm even considering running on a track, perhaps not racing though; I've seen @runmapporun's times, and they scare me!

As you might be able to tell though, I'm still a little unsure about it all: part of me says I can do both, but getting the balance of speed and distance, while maintaining a sensible run/life balance seems a bit too much manage.

What are your goals at the moment: speed, distance, or both?

What advice can you offer me, what has worked for you?