Monday 15 November 2010

Naomi in 5 mile cross country shocker

A 5 mile cross country race isn't really my bag, however, after 13 marathons in 11 weeks, I needed a break from all the travelling as much as from all the miles. Plus it was Mark's birthday so it seemed a bit rude to wander off to do my own thing, yet again, after he'd given up several of his weekends to keep me company. Plus, the alternatives were the LDWA Steppingley Step (muddy fields, increasingly soggy and disintegrating written instructions on sheets of A4, lots of boredom, lots of stiles, lots of shuffling, negligible running), Gower (the only race I've DNFed purely because it was so blinkin' miserable, hooning down with rain, swamplike underfoot and bound to take over 6 hours), and the triple marathon over the Ridgeway (sleeping on a school floor, cold showers, wet kit, covered in endless mud, most people getting lost and finishing in the dark). I could have gone to France for the Nice-Cannes marathon that looked fabulous but that was a bit much with 2 foreign maras already booked in for November. So it was a marathon free weekend.

Mark had entered his club's Autumn Challenge, saying it was the best race ever for reasons I never quite managed to pin down. Still, I knew that if he went off to run a race on Sunday morning and it was remotely decent weather, I'd feel far too jealous stood on the sidelines cheering him on. So I entered. The Autumn Challenge is 5 miles (too short), off road (too non-tarmac), on grass (too slippy and tussocky), and muddy trails (too muddy and slippy), and hilly (ok, I don't mind this bit). It also suggested the course would "take a short spike". I have never heard this sort of language in any race I have entered before, it was a little intimidating. I wore road shoes and hoped in vain for dry weather in the few days leading up to the race.

It was mild and dry and even sunny on Sunday morning so the back up plan of just ditching it wasn't required. A 20 minute walk to the start plus maybe 5 minutes of trotting about on the grass was a half arsed attempt at loosening up but the autumn challenge for me was concentrating on running hard right from the start rather than ambling off at a very pedestrian pace before taking about 4 miles to realise what I'm doing and to start thinking about running as I usually do in marathons. It passes a bit of time, ok?

The start was up a shallow hill, on grass and quite slippy. Happily, the bulk of it was on varying degrees of muddy trail which was far more tolerable, indeed, I've done plenty of off road marathons on worse terrain, plus none of the hills were very long. Of course, at eyeballs out pace, they're a lot more unpleasant but at least my road maras have taught me that you can run up hills, unlike trail maras and ultras where hills are almost obligatory to walk. I was passed by quite a few people in the first mile as the field shook itself out, by next to noone in the middle 3 miles (where I took a few back) and by only a couple in the last mile. Which suggests that while my top gear is reasonably sustainable, I definitely had no more pace for the finish.

Despite feeling minor dread and perhaps because of such low expectations, I rather enjoyed running to the point where it felt like my lungs were about to explode for 40 minutes. It feels more efficient to know you're covering ground as fast as you can rather than scuffing about and taking forever. I don't like wasting time. It's also quite nice to feel more competitive than usual, it's been all too easy to think "stuff it, I've run 48 marathons this year, I've got nothing to prove" and ease off (see drifting times and abominable training passim) so this was rather refreshing. I had no expectation of time so with the terrain and hills was quite satisfied with 40'59 for 5.12 miles, bang on 8'00 minute miling. Same as my 1/2 marathon pace, same as the pace I've maintained for 16 miles in a marathon. Proof that I don't have much acceleration.

Targets were as follows:

1. Don't injure myself - done
2. Don't hate it too much - done
3. Don't fall over - done
4. Don't embarrass myself - done, I was 46th out of 146 overall, 11th of 51 ladies and 3rd of 17 senior ladies.
5. Don't embarrass Mark by beating him on his birthday race - done, he did himself proud with 6th overall and 1st MV40. And yes, I hadn't a chance in hell of beating him.

Tuesday 9 November 2010

Porto marathon

Porto was a lovely weekend, not just my usual whistle stop trip for a marathon but the chance to relax a bit more, see more of the city and have a very pleasant weekend with Mark. I had slightly conflicting thoughts about him coming along and not running, on the one hand, it was good that he didn't have another marathon as multiple marathoning is a choice you have to make yourself, not one to be influenced into, however unintentionally; on the other, I felt a bit prima donna-ish with my race being the dominant theme, especially as Mark was relegated to supporter, jumper carrier, water bearer and soigneur, roles that he fulfilled very proficiently. I don't think anyone's ever tried to pin my number on for me before. It was, however, excellent to have such good company, and even more excellent when he popped up at 15k and kept me company for the next almost 11.

Portuguese marathons appear to be like the smaller Spanish ones: they're very competitive with a fast field, you're going to feel quite lonely if you finish in much over 4 hours. There are also very few women, 93 of a 1,180 strong field, that's about 8%. It's not so much a social thing as it is in the UK, people are there to race, and I rather like that attitude, it makes you feel part of something a bit more momentous, it's more than a bunch of people getting together for a jolly old jaunt together, stopping off to eat cake and chat. But then I am getting quite purist.

On Saturday, we went, via winding lanes, crooked houses and epic flights of steps, to the expo at the not very Crystal Palace that gave out a cracking goody bag with a race number with my name on it, backpack, technical t-shirt, baseball cap, a few odds and sods like a keyring and samples and, most excitingly of all, a full size 750ml bottle of commemorative marathon port. I was hugely pleased with this, although it represented a further challenge of decimating it before the flight back (it was polished off sitting on the harbour in the sunshine post race). The free feed was pretty vast too, if of school dinner quality, but the included beer made it worthwhile. At the finish was yet more free stuff, ladies were given a rose and we all got a drawstring bag with another baseball cap and a cotton t-shirt, and there was a stall set up doling out more beer. It's one of the most alcoholic races I've done and one of the better value ones. Less said about the flight the better.

As for my performance, I wasn't best prepared for the race, having a minor port headache, chronic sleep deprivation which is short circuiting increasing parts of my brain, and a series of niggles exacerbated by walking up and down many hills and steps in Porto on Saturday afternoon in inappropriate shoes. The current list includes (but is not exclusive to): right ankle, achilles and anterior tibialis, right back of knee, outside of both knees (prob tight ITBs), inside the top of my left knee that tends to give out on sudden inclines, right hamstring and where the deltoids meet the spine. It's all adding to the general feeling of decrepitude and the requirement for a good 6 weeks resting in a sanitorium on the banks of Lake Garda.
 However, I was really looking forward to the run, and usually do for marathons like Porto where I get to see lots of a nice city. This is a charming town with a great route down to the coast, along the sea front, then up the Douro river with a few out and backs before heading back the way we came. The start is straight up a hill for 1/2 a k, then downhill for 7k to the coast to tempt you into a fast start, luckily we were spared the long climb all the way back as the finish was "only" 2k up, although this does deposit you a long way from town.
My pacing has gone a bit haywire lately so I've had to run to perceived effort and accept whatever pace that results. This time that seemed like 8'30s which was a rather nice turn up for the books, it's been more like 9'15s recently. When Mark joined me, about 2km before I expected him, it definitely helped keep the rhythm going. He left me just before the hardest bit mentally, from 26 to 30k when it was getting quite warm and I was getting a bit sleepy and lacking in concentration. A Dutch bloke came alongside with perfect cadence so I latched onto him for a bit. The increasing heat was lovely and eased out some of the aches, and after seeing Mark again at 31k, it was a matter of counting down the ks. The legs were very very tired in the last 3 or 4 miles and the pace drifted a bit, but a sub 4 was without doubt. What was very tight was a sub 3'50 but, given I hadn't done one of these since April and I couldn't remember when GFA times expire, I had to go for it. The last 1.5k uphill was pretty cruel..... Finished in 3'49'20, got my rose, bag #2 and beer, then was very lucky to find a cab avoiding a long old hike back to the hotel inevitably getting very lost. Just a shame there was no teleporter to get us back home.

Postscript: I have to name and shame Victor Hutchins from Queen's Park Harrier who we saw peeing on the 25k distance marker, it didn't help that Mark had seen very few other Brits so had given him a cheery wave and shout on at least 3 occasions, to be totally ignored each time. Victor, you are the victor of the most vile runner prize, narrowly beating the portly gentleman running in racing knickers.

Monday 8 November 2010

Snowdonia marathon

Mark had been a proper gentleman and offered to drive up to Snowdonia, thus sparing me a really difficult journey plus the expense of two nights in a shonky hotel or B&B plus affording the opportunity to stop off in Crewe to see my sister who you may remember was my lead cheerleader and tea and jam sandwich provider at the 10 in 10. Hence I got to stay in the car and out of the drizzle as long as possible before the start, so didn't spot many familiar faces other than a couple of 100 Clubbers either there or on the route.
 It was actually quite nice to set off at a very pedestrian pace with the meagre aims of a sub 5 finish and not too much of a drenching from the local weather. Only one of those was in my control. After a gentle few miles to warm up came the first hill. Now, reports had suggested this race was harder than the Langdale mara so I was very happy to find that the first was quite easily runnable and knew there would be some fabulous views and a delightful downhill reward to follow. Turning onto a shaley track wasn't ideal, didn't like that bit. Once back on the road there was plenty of pretty much flat to half way and, having seen on the route profile that the second hill was shorter than the first, it was easy enough to run up it. Around this point, Gail from Watford Joggers caught up with me and we had a nice chat until we passed Mark who recognised his clubmate well before he recognised me...
 Thanks to my steady start, it felt quite comfortable over the last 10 and I passed quite a lot of soggy, miserable looking runners. On reaching the last hill, I knew I ought to break 4'30 and if I kept about 10 minute miles going it would be 4'20, not so easy with the notorious Waun Fawr (sp?) in the way. I really didn't want to walk the hill, not just because of losing time but also because it was already wet and looking to get wetter and I'd just freeze. So I managed a nice steady trot all the way to the top, had a bit of a laugh to myself at all those people who'd said Langdale is harder, I could barely walk the hills in Langdale let alone run them, witnessed a big lightening flash and rumble of thunder, thought I ought to get in before that lands on our heads, then hit trail. For heaven's sake. This is a "road marathon", I can tolerate a bit of low-fat track but this turned into full-fat, extra lard, uneven stony path before deteriorating into muddy, churned up, slippy grass awash with puddles. Not so bad on the flat but the descent was quite dangerous in road shoes. Thankfully the last 2/3rds of a mile were back on road, though now in torrential rain with a good inch or two of water running off the hills, I've never seen anything so heavy outside of Asia. Cleaned my shoes up a bit.

Came over the line in 4'18, only 8 minutes slower than Abingdon, quite pleased with that. Was presented with a cup of cold water (just what I need) and a slate coaster, got gathered up by Mark, had a brief chat to Yin Hai, Fu and Gail and made straight for the car. I like that the organisers are trying to make this an ethical event, including giving you a carbon neutral t-shirt, but it's pissing in the wind when virtually everyone has to drive a blinking long way to get to your race. Overall however, an excellent event, loads of well-stocked water stations, slick start and finish and a grand sense of occasion. Hardly saw any marshals away from the water stations and the traffic could have done with more management but otherwise it was top drawer. I might be back next year, if I can be bothered with the epic journey.