I’d decided on running the Sherwood Pines 10k to keep my running going (I’d be leaving for the Alps the following weekend), I fancied running a 10km race to see if 6 months of running half marathons would make a difference to my best time and because I’d really enjoyed it the previous year. The year previously 2 others from work had joined in, this year the contingent swelled to 7. I’d been training with a sub 50min time in my head, having never achieved this in a race it was a target to aim for if at all possible.

From the work group one in particular (say hello Matt!) was keen on similar time, so after a couple of exchanges about seeing each other at the finish line we found ourselves side by side at the start line, eager to get going and through the field to find a pace that’d see us round in a good time. The klaxon sounded and as usual, there was a lurch forward and then steady walk whilst those in-front started to run and clear space for those behind. Matt and me were off quickly, keen to get through the pack and establish a lead over each other early on, which meant for the first mile or so we were running too fast and pushing each other. Matt moved ahead by about 15m and then held pace; I was aware that if we kept pushing each other, that I’d most likely collapse and as we were only a kilometre i,n I was content to hold and wait. Then out on a long stretch without tree cover a runner tapped me, taking my headphones out I was told my laces were coming undone, so I had to quickly pause, re-tie the laces and crack on with Matt no longer in sight.

Reaching the first stop I was grateful for a drink and chance to walk a couple of paces to regain my breath before heading up another slight incline. The middle section of the race flew by, with me keeping to just under 5 mins a kilometre as I’d planned, until a steep section just after 5km forced me to drop my pace to regain my breath longer than I’d have liked. But on I went and after walking with some water at the final drink station and jogging the final incline it was just the last 2km to go and knowing it was mainly flat I was able to up my pace and start overtaking runners around me.

The final 500m or so really hurt, there’s a picture below to give you a feel for just how much, but with the finish so close, knowing I was on for a time under 50mins and still holding out a little bit of hope that Matt may not be all that far ahead I kept going. Crossing the finish line in just short of 49mins, I clocked it at 48:55 on my watch, I was really pleased to have come well within the target I aimed for. Matt had completed the race in 47mins, a really fantastic time given he spends more time cycling than running, but I’ll have a chance to “make amends” when we both run the Leicester Half Marathon in October.

When it means something, it often hurts a lot. I wanted the time…

After diagnosis from Twitter followers and Google, I concluded I’d badly pulled the muscle between my ribs. The reality was I’d only be able to manage light exercise in the 2 weeks leading up to Stoke at best, at worst I’d have to consider not running the race. Given at first deep breaths hurt and moving in my sleep meant pain that woke me up, I only managed to climb and play squash once in the 2 weeks before the weekend of the run. During the time off I realised just how bad a long term injury must be (I was pretty frustrated even for such a short spell) and also discovered the wonders of pain relief gel, it’s fantastic, trust me!

Half believing I was okay to run, but also worried I hadn’t ran for 2 weeks before a half marathon, I tried a short 5km run on the Friday before. A mixture of hayfever during the day, being desperate to run and so going off too quick, and slight apprehension about my ribs meant I came back, exhausted and worried about how I’d do on the Sunday. I contemplated after just how hard I find it to not really push when it comes to the events. This time I was scared I could aggravate the injury and was told by a number of people to either not run it or to do it really slow and careful.

Come the morning of the race I’d decided to just go and enjoy it (yes, you heard me, enjoy a half marathon), but knowing a couple of runners also taking part in the race, I couldn’t help but be determined to give it a good go and held out slight hope of a decent time on the premise a break may have helped (positive until the end). Then as with the previous race, getting to the start line proved a mess, with roadworks on the A50 delaying me by 20mins and then waiting in a queue for the car park for 20mins to be told it was full and to go find somewhere else with 10mins to go before the race began. Running from the car to pick up the timing chip and then to start line, I found the race had started 4mins or so earlier. So I had quick drink and breather (I’d just ran half a mile fast to the start line) before crossing the line in what was already fairly hot conditions.

With few people around me and frustrated to have missed the start, my first mile was far too quick at 7:30mins (I should’ve been at 9mins to hit sub 2hr) but it meant I was soon in with the tail of the race, passing people and feeling pretty strong doing it.

All this over taking and I was soon at the first water station. I felt thirsty but didn’t want much more of the sugary Lucozade drink I’d ran with again (they just don’t go down well when it’s so hot for me) so I ditched it and grabbed a bottle of water to carry. Then came the first proper incline just after 4miles, a long stretch of perhaps 1/5 of a mile at a steady yet quite decent gradient that had a number of people far back stopping and walking. This at first spurred me on, but also was a bit annoying as I was soon dodging in and out from people stopping and walking right infront of me.

Despite this hill, I was soon passing 6milesat around 52mins, and completing miles at just over 9mins I was running at perfect pace, which was fantastic. I was feeling the heat but the time was promising and my ribs felt fine. With a nice fairly flat section coinciding with 10mins of cloud cover I picked up my pace and started to cruise past people. But when the sun did come back, I didn’t slow down quick enough and was soon feeling really thirsty. Thankfully the crowds had plenty of drinks to hand I stopped shortly after the 2nd water station for more water.

My legs by the 8/9 mile markers were beginning to tire more than usual, which I’d expected given lack of running before. But with the sun growing stronger and a couple of hills just before 10, my pace started to fall away. The hill at just after 11miles really finished me off, so I stopped running and walked for about 15 seconds, still painful even at that pace, it hurt physically to walk it and mentally to feel I’d been beaten by a course.

I don’t remember too much after that, mainly due to how dehydrated I’d become, apart from the final section lined with locals out cheering people on (amazingly helpful), which I managed to sprint to finish in 2:08:55.

It was an odd race, as my reasons for running it (as you can see from the Hinckley article) were blown out of the water to start with by the rib injury. Arriving late to the start line and then constantly overtaking the pack, unable to find someone to run alongside, made settling into a pace difficult. But with everything else seeming to be wrong, I managed to relax and enjoy myself. The course was hard, but I liked that, and the support was absolutely fantastic. Once again a race wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but I’m over the moon by my reaction, having let off conditions play on my mind and frustrate me at Hinckley. The time, whilst my worst for a half marathon, was respectable given the conditions and despite woeful organisation, I’ve never enjoyed (and smiled through) a race so much. I loved it and can’t wait to go back next year.

With my ribs feeling healed and legs/feet about recovered from the race, I can focus on running regularly in preparation for the 10km Sherwood Pines race on July 19th but with my sights now set on the Alps. I’ve been doing a hell of a lot of walking and some climbing to break in kit and get my legs used to long days walking, so I’m going to put together a pre trip post in between this and the 10km race to cover what I’ve been up to and expect from the trip.

It was as if I’d blinked after the Belvoir Half Marathon, and then found myself waiting to run the Hinckley Half Marathon on the 10th May. Between the races I’d started to wall climb and spent two weekends in Wales walking in Snowdonia, as well as the usual 2-3 runs a week. So it was on the back of a good time in the previous race and steady training that I found myself ready to run this half. I was neither here nor there about reports of previous years being particularly hot, and felt reassured that the course had been altered to make it “flatter” and knowing where the tough section of the race was (around 11miles, a testing long climb up).

Actually stood waiting to run, I was concerned by the weather and how I felt. Whilst there were clouds about, the sun was shining strongly, so that even standing still I could feel its heat on me. More troubling, I wasn’t feeling the usual energy/desire to run that I had in previous races; a mixture of tiredness (I’d been out until late on the Friday)/probably too much sugary energy drink on the way over and a bit of hassle trying to drop off my keys, meant as we started I was far from focused.

Despite that, I started really well, completing the first 3 miles at around 8:45 a mile which worked perfectly for a time under 2hrs. However, I soon realised the heat was going to become a factor and so forced myself to run slightly slower, but this focus on my pace and mental conclusion that the heat was going to make a difference whilst sensible enough meant I was soon counting miles and finding it more difficult to cope with the exertion as I would normally. A short village section in the shade helped me regain composure and start running at a steady pace again.

As I hit halfway at the start of a long flat straight (the only one I can remember on the entire route), I was still on for a time under 2hrs. Dropping the pace had worked and I was feeling fine, whilst other runners seemed to be slowing and even stopping around me. At the end of the straight, the Lucozade I was carrying began to make me feel sick every time I drank some and was starting to leave a sugary deposit on my lips (even worse for me than it sounds, I promise!), so I decided despite the heat to ditch it.

Then came the part of the race that ended of my hopes for a time of under 2hrs. After the straight at around 8.5 miles, I turned left onto a slight gradient that didn’t seem too bad at first, but with slightly weary legs and the road continuing to go up  and up I began to tire. Here I struggled mentally, knowing the tough section at 10-11miles was still to come started to play on my mind and my pace dropped. Turning off onto an obviously smaller road I knew it was imminent, and a climb that I assumed to be the tough section started. However, frustratingly soon after reaching the end of a minute or so uphill, I was struggling to not break into sprint running back down a steep part of the road, losing all the height I’d just gained and knocking my foot somehow in a way that meant the laces on my right trainer loosened to a point that I needed to stop to tie them up again. After a more gradual section down I was back in the shade and at a drinks station… before the hill I’d read about. Having disposed of the Lucozade I was actually really thirsty (even only a few miles on), so for the first time in a half marathon, I grabbed a cup of water and walked for about 20secs as I drank it all.

The hill itself wasn’t anywhere near as hard as I expected, in the shade and having managed to take in some water, I actually felt really strong on what I’d heard was the toughest section of the race. Reaching the top, I had a “second wind” and with just a couple of miles left pushed on through Market Bosworth knowing it was “all downhill” from there on. Another water stop and a welcome spray of cold water from a local stood outside their house with a garden hose (amazing!!) and I was back on the route we’d started on knowing that the end wasn’t too far off. However, despite a strong last 2 miles back at 9min miles the damage had been done earlier in the race, so as I tore around the corner onto the final straight I could only manage a time of 2hrs 6mins 19secs.

As you’ve no doubt picked up, I was disappointed by my time and felt pretty despondent for the first time after a race (I’m usually super happy). I found keeping the pace I wanted really difficult due to the ups/downs and the heat. It’s the first time when I’ve been acutely aware of mistakes I made during preparation/the race making a big difference to my time. Unfortunately I realised this as I was running, which knocked me mentally and contributed to the run being harder than it should’ve been. Deep down I really wanted (and expected of myself) another time under 2hrs, so missing out by 6mins was really frustrating, especially given how good I’d felt in the Belvoir Half.

Taking positives from the race, I felt shattered after having really given it my all in less than ideal circumstances, I certainly didn’t come away thinking I could’ve done anymore on the day. Even whilst I was unhappy with my time, I was certainly not the only one to struggle with the heat/hills. It’s also the first race where the mental side of things came into play so much, with me adapting too much to the weather/hard sections during the race, I’ve definitely learnt a hell of a lot from this half. And being realistic, a time just over 2hrs in the sun is good going, it’s certainly something I wouldn’t have dreamt of being possible a year before!

Looking forward, I’d planned to take a break from races before going to the Alps but I couldn’t leave things like this. So I’ve booked two more races to train for:

• The Potters’ Arf Half Marathon on June 14th is hilly and almost always hot, it’ll give me the ideal chance to have another go at a difficult course in the heat and prove to myself I can do it better!
• And the Sherwood Pines 10km as I really enjoyed it last year and I’ve not ran a 10km race for a long time, and want to see what time I can run one in now (previous best time was 52:07).

I’m also planning on jazzing things up slightly, by making use of a new camera to try out some videos pre/post race and over in the Alps when I’m there to show how it’s all going.

As ever, this is all in aid of The Stroke Association (not just because I’m crazy and like running/climbing) and any size donation on my Justgiving page will be really appreciated. To give you an idea how the donations make a difference, £20 will help keep a Stroke Helpline open another hour, so far donations mean we’ve got a day’s worth of support available on the telephone for people who need help! If you can make a donation to help me reach £500, staff can receive specialist speech and language training to help people who’ve suffered a Stroke to regain their speech as much as possible and make a quicker recovery.

Cheers! Ian

The gap also gave me time to look at my training properly; to make sure time I spend really will help with what’s ahead. So I’ve changed one of my short runs mid-week to include sprints of around 50m/100m every half kilometre to get me completely out of breath and encourage me to recover whilst exercising (should help deal with altitude), committed myself to more cycling at the gym (yes, I’ll be going to spinning classes…) and started to regularly include weights. To help with overall strength and technique I’ve also added climbing to the mix.

So feeling pleased with preparation (on paper) I went out over a week before the race to do my first run in the new trainers. (Un)Surprisingly it felt really odd given the different shape of the shoe on my foot, so I came back feet aching and a little concerned after just 5km. My response… run 12km the next morning… and get blisters doing it, doh! But I felt better for it, the distance wasn’t a problem and the aching was better (and quite bearable). Convincing myself that the blisters were down to the absolutely battered skin on my instep I’ve picked up running in my old trainers, and I was happy enough to be running the 21km of the Belvoir Half Marathon in my new trainers the weekend after.

Waking up on the 12th, after a pretty restless night, I felt pretty sick, which given I’d been genuinely looking forward to the race was a concern, as it definitely wasn’t nerves. Again I managed to put it to the back of my mind, thinking it’d soon clear up once I was at the race and was fully focussed.

Arriving after a 20minute drive, the race felt quite different to others. It was fairly small (600-700 runners) and also the first time I’d gone to run a race on my own. So with it still quite cold outside, I sat in the warm car with music on until 15mins before, walked over the village hall where I dropped off my car keys, went out into the cold and warmed up for 5mins.

The pack was split at the start, so I decided to hang around the back of the group hoping for times under 1hr 55min to get off quickly. The start was a bit of a mess, with me on the side trying to avoid crush in the centre I had to jump over wire at the start line (that was recording chips, I was worried it hadn’t got me!) to get through. After a short run over grass we were turning right out onto the road and back into Hose to start the race properly.

Aiming to beat my previous best of 2hrs 5mins I’d aimed for miles to take 9mins 15secs (which would give me a total time of just over 2hrs) and then see how I felt for the final few miles to see if I could come in just under.

The first mile felt fine, checking my timer I was running at around 8mins 30secs a mile too which was great as it gave me leeway later on in the race. Feeling okay I decided to keep the pace up, knowing I’d probably tire a little and slow down naturally as the race wore on.

After the one of the two club runners I’d been following dove to the side to throw up and I was passed by a guy pushing a bloke in a wheelchair (massive respect to him!) I was at the first water stop, that as I’d once again decided to carry a drink with me I could keep going past and overtake plenty of people (always a good feeling!).

Shortly after the first stop, my right calf became really tight, forcing me to slow the pace and try to let it sort itself out, it helped but only enough that I could build back up to the faster pace without it becoming too painful. It wasn’t the pain of Brighton (bleeding feet…) but it did hurt and I was worried just how much damage I was doing by carrying on with over half the race and around an hour of running ahead of me.

At 7miles we hit the only real steep section of the route, a 20 metre or so steep climb that whilst I was never in danger of stopping on, took my breath away for a good 30secs after. By this point though I was well aware that a sub 2hr time was possible if I could keep my pace up.

The last few miles seemed to fly by, I guess because I knew I was on for a good time but also because I was running slightly faster than I was comfortable with a group of runners, which seemed to work well for everyone. Going past 12 miles at just short of 1:49mins I knew it was a certainty to come in under 2hrs, so I picked up the pace as much as possible and ran as hard as I could. I came around the final corner into gravel car park (daft if you ask me!) at such a pace I nearly fell turning, but I held it together to cross the line in 1hr 57mins 25seconds, almost 8mins faster than my previous time. I was over the moon and then soon unable to walk much due to my right calf tightening up and the new shoes taking their toll on the underside of my feet (not really blistered, just aching from the different shape).

So on Sunday 22nd of February I finally got going with this year’s running, which was great given the amount of organising that’s gone on before!

I’d chosen Brighton to be first race of the year having seen it a couple of years ago and thought then what a really nice race it would be, being beside the sea, which was a very romantic point of view from someone who’d not even ran 10km let alone close to 22km at that time. With my first half marathon completed last year in Birmingham, it made sense to look up Brighton which was at the start of the year and from my memory a flat race, which would make it possible to get my previous time of 2hrs 6mins 30secs down.

So after booking and the usual excitement of what we could look forward to had evaporated, we realised just what could go wrong. Our biggest concern was that a seafront in February might actually not be a great place to be, as exposure to serious rain and wind could make things very uncomfortable. Next on the list was that Brighton as nice as it is, is a long way from Leicester and so not a great place to get from if you’ve run for 2hrs and feel more like a sleep than a 3hr drive. Oh, and 13.1 miles is a long way too.

Waiting to start the run, worries about the weather were soon forgotten, apart from the cold wind which I coped with fine in my base layer, whereas, Jamie and Matt who I ran with took a little longer to “warm” to it. Pre-race my plan was to try for between 9min to 9:30min miles to try and get as close to a time of 2hrs as possible.

After a long wait for our section of the queue to get going I was soon running at a steady pace and hit the first mile at 9:20 with Matt running alongside me. Between 1 and 2 miles my right hamstring felt increasingly tight so I eased up as we made our way through the city centre but still came to 2miles roughly on time. Once out onto the seafront up I mainly followed Matt, going past him just before we turned to look back to the pier (by now in the distance) that we’d need to run to and beyond. Keeping pace on this section of the race wasn’t too hard, whereas the monotony of running in a straight line to a marker a long way away was more tricky. Around 8miles Matt shot past me pointing forward and looking comfortable. At 9miles, still running at 9:30min miles, I looked down to the lower section of the seafront to see people crossing the finishing line, which is a bit heart breaking whatever race you’re running. Still the pace carried on and at just before 10 miles we dropped down to the lower level and headed toward the finish line (1st tease) before turning with it clearly visible.

It was around this time that I felt my right foot had blistered badly, with the sock separating from my foot I knew I was in trouble and an intense pain shot through my lower leg. After a long painful run toward 11miles the course became more undulating (read hilly) and my left foot also began to hurt badly. The final 2.1 miles were up and down, which was tough going having thought the course was all but flat, was almost unbearable due to the pain from my feet which from experience I knew was them bleeding.

The final straight on flat was more a case of finish as quick as possible to stop my feet hurting, so somehow I managed to sprint the last 150m or so to complete the race in 2hrs 5mins 3secs. It was a couple of minutes more than I’d wanted but as my first proper race of the year, and the state of my feet I was really pleased on the day. Matt had come in around 50secs quicker than me, but also hurt his knee that he’d been concerned about prior to the race. Jamie came in comfortably 15-20mins after us, using the race as part of his London Marathon training that he’s doing for charity.

Around 6,000 people ran the event, and I came in somewhere just over the middle, which given my feet and the strong field that turned out I was happy with. I’ve received some small donations for taking part in this event, if you’d like to donate too then as usual go to www.justgiving.com/ian2009.

Now onto preparations for Morocco and Mount Toubkal!