Mon 18 March 2002 - Fleet Half Marathon (continued)

Now then, where were we? Ah yes...

The trouble was, there were a couple of marshals still loitering at the start, and when I appeared on the scene they started bellowing encouraging things like "Come on, you're only a couple of minutes behind!" How could I do anything other than carry on running?

But it was painful. I was out of breath and tired (you will recall), and I'd have liked nothing more than a sunny bench, a nice cup of Earl Grey and a copy of The Observer. Instead I had to make do with running a half marathon.

It got worse. I rounded the corner, panting and flailing, just in time to run into a large crowd of spectators filling the lane to peer after the vanishing runners. There was a sudden, panicky announcement over the PA: "Please clear the road! We have a late starter!"

Oooh, the embarrassment as a thousand necks craned to catch a glimpse of the guilty individual. This quickly broke into a veritable tumult of cheers and applause as I panted past. This is how I was supposed to feel at the end of the race, not the beginning. I decided it might be counter-productive to yell "Stop looking at me, please!" Instead I blew a few kisses and took the ironic applause like a man... who had no choice really. All good clean fun, and the crowd lining the High Street seemed to be enjoying themselves. I think I succeeded in pretending that I too was having a great time. The truth was elsewhere.

By the time I reached the other end of the High Street, a great regiment of rhythmical backsides had briefly come into view before vanishing round a distant corner. Much against my instincts I just kept going, and eventually, just before the first mile point, I finally caught up with the back marker, a rather solemn looking lady dressed from head to foot in black. As I passed I politely apologised, but her Walkman left her oblivious to me and probably everything else.

It must have been my eagerness to catch up with the others but I did the first two miles in 20:18. For me that's fast. Too fast probably, and I knew I'd struggle to keep it going. At Reading I'd felt much more in control, but here I struggled from the start, and I knew it would be hard to get round. My original plan was to beat last week's modest time of 2:30:36. To do so I had to average around 11:20. For the first seven miles I thought I was going to do it. Miles 3 to 7 were 10:56, 11:14, 11:31, 11:23 and 11:21. I was just about on target.

In different circumstances I could have enjoyed this race much more than I had to. The surroundings couldn't have been more of a contrast with Reading. Here was the quintessence of rural England. Undulating Hampshire countryside, quiet lanes winding past picture postcard village pubs. On one lonely stretch of road we passed four stately swans gliding past on a narrow lake.

Good weather too. Warm, even sunny in patches. As at Reading, I marvelled at the willingness of so many runners to dress up in leggings and sweatshirts and jackets on a day like this. Inevitably, after a mile or so people were pulling these things off and wrapping or draping them around any suitable bit of body. I can't understand it. After a long, wet, freezing winter when I had no choice but to wear a tracksuit top (with shorts), the chance to wear a singlet or T-shirt comes as a welcome relief.

The quick start wore me out, and by halfway I was taking walking breaks every mile or so. The rest of the splits were 12:18, 11:59, 12:41, 13:15, 12:09 and 12:49. I ended up on 2:31:59, which was just 1:23 slower than last week. Had I started properly it would have been a different story but what the hell. Now that a day or so has gone past I think the start was pretty hilarious really.

Ha ha!! I certainly won't make that mistake again....

Tues 19 March 2002

After a week of reluctant rest and that pantomime in Hampshire, today it was business as usual. Five miles at lunchtime round the familiar local lanes. Managed the whole thing at an average of 10.54 per mile. Good for me. Ached a bit.

Four weeks to go till the big day. This week I am running 40 miles: the most I'll be doing in this training programme. From next week the taper starts.

Thurs 21 March 2002

I was too despondent to post a message last night as my run had gone so badly. The plan was 10 miles, but I started to droop after just a mile or two. I actually felt sleepy while running - that has to be a first for me. It set me wondering. You hear about people falling asleep at the wheel of a car. Has anyone ever fallen asleep while out running? Suddenly woken up in a bush or a ditch, and realised they'd dropped off a half mile back?

I'd struggled on for another mile before I had to stop and walk. I never found any rhythm and instead of a 10 mile run it turned into a 5 mile run-walk, with the 10 miler pushed onto today instead.

But what a great run this evening! Not especially fast at 1 hour 55 (that's 11:30 a mile) but the first hour was splendidly warm and sunny, and the second half dark but still pleasantly mild. For most of the run I felt strong and steady. I tired towards the end but this was probably down to dehydration as much as anything. Now that I've had the experience of running two organised half marathons with water stops, I've come to see the benefit of fluid intake on longer runs. My body needed a drink after 5 miles but didn't get one till I got home - another 5 miles further on. It has a debilitating effect, both mentally and physically, I've no doubt.

This was the longest midweek run in the training programme. On Sunday I have my longest weekend training run before the race itself. Twenty miles. I've entered a 20 mile road race in WOrthing, on the Sussex coast. Mixed feelings. The sea air should make it a different experience, though the course is one 5 mile circuit run 4 times. This may be a mixed blessing, helping to break it down into chunks. Psychologically important. But the distance itself is formidable. I felt tired when I got back this evening, and Sunday's race is double that distance. But a run of this distance is, they say, critically important for marathon trainees, so it has to be done. And with better preparation and regular watering, it probably won't be as bad as my nightmares suggest.

After Sunday comes the taper, the period when the mileage drops to prepare the body for the exertions of April 14th. I'm approaching this 3 week period of relative tranquility with an almost Buddhist-like sense of philosophical acceptance. The calm before the storm.

Fortunately, I love a good storm...

Sun 24 March 2002 - Worthing 20 Mile Road Race

Have just returned from the above event, but it's midnight, and the story will have to wait until tomorrow...

Next week >