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Porriño Half Marathon
I arrived on time for this race. In fact, I arrived 13 hours early. Which gave me time to pick up my race number and drive over the course.
I had been warned during the week.
The course was three laps of an industrial estate. Some of the most ardent racers had mentioned that they would not be going this year, even though it was the Galician Championships for half marathon.
But I've got friends living in Porriño so it didn't matter.
Later, we were in a bar talking to some friends, I happened to mention to one guy, David, that the course used to run through the villiage centre, but there were problems with the Policia Local, so they had to change the course. 'Ssssh' said everyone, 'the chief of Police is sitting in front of you, watching Barcelona beat Deportivo'.
And so to Sunday morning.
Breakfast, two slices of toast and a coffee. Five minutes in the car and I was at the start. I had 45 minutes to warm up, which, recently, was a bit of a luxury. I met Sampedro on his way to collect his race number, then warmed up a bit with him.
I had a plan for the race, having worn the HRM for my last 5 races, I thought I would use Porriño as my first race run according to my heart rate. So this was the plan: Run the first 20 minutes at or below 175 bpm, which is about 84% of maximum for me. The next 40 minutes should be run at 178 - 180 bpm which is just a tad more, about 88% then the last half hour I wanted to just keep running as fast as my body would allow.
The race was delayed 10 minutes because people here have the tendency to arrive at the last minute to collect their race numbers, but at 11:10 about 340 of us set off, Sampedro and I wishing eachother luck as we rouned the roundabout and headed for the finish line.
Luckily we turned around again and headed off for the loneliness of a Granxa Poligono Industrial. The course was practically flat, so keeping to my pace was easy enough. Sampedro raced into the lead (well, between the two of us that is), and I followed at a discreet 40 metres behind. And here's a strange thing, although I enjoy talking with people before and after a race, whilst we are running I prefer to be Greta Garbo style - alone. I was pondering this during the first 20 minutes, a few words to people I don't know, well, that's fine, but running for me is something personal.
Anyway, we rouned the top bend, over the timing mats and back towards the second roundabout, there the second lap began. David, from the bar the night before, was at the corner to cheer me on, which was nice, he'd been jogging, he's run the half marathon a few times, but said that he wasn't in shape for this one. My HRM beeped for my 20 minutes, and I ran ever so slightly faster, there's not too much difference in speed between 175 and 178 bpm, although in effort there is a distinct difference. About a third of the way round the second lap I caught a glimpse of the leaders, they were about a kilometer in front.
Not much happened until the last lap. Nobody overtook me, I only overtook two or three people. We caught sight of the leaders again, then those who were a couple of klicks behind. One thing I did notice, was that there were either no kilometer markings or that they were from last year or they were just plain wrong. Given this, I have no split times, as I wouldn't know where to take the splits.
The last lap came, which should be 7 kilometers to the finish. I sped up again as it coincided more or less with my 60 minute timer. For me, this was where I had decided that the race would start. Where the pain would begin. Mentally, 7km is not much, it's less than the length of the Paseo Maritimo in La Coruña. Physically it shouldn't bee too tough either.
As we headed up the outbound streatch of the course, David waived encouragement as he jogged down to the finishing area. I passed Sampedro, we exchanged views of the run and estimated about 4 or 5 kilometers to the finish. So far so good. I was managing to maintain 180 bpm for this part of the last lap. We rounded the top bend, passed the timing mat and it was 3.5 km to the finish. I upped the pace, trying to maintain 180. It wasn't so easy. In Viana and in Ferrol, I had managed 184 in those last few kilometers, but in Porriño I started to struggle with 178.
A couple of veterans passed me in those last few kilometers. I was now trying my utmost to maintain 176bpm. We passed the last of the water stations at 20km and my legs had just about had it. The last kilometer was all about hanging in there. Sampedro drew along side, muttered someting about it being tough then changed gear 200m from the finish, leaving me for dust (agian).
The official clock said 1hour 29 minutes and 40 seconds when I crossed the line.
For the flatness of the course, and for the weather, which after a humid 20 minutes, cooled down with a jentle drizzle, I actually thought that I would have been a couple of minutes faster. I would have thought 1h27'. Perhaps it was the lack of atmosphere on the course. Or it could have been the very dull industrial unit scenery, or both, that made it that much harder. It could have been that I accidentally left my power gels in the car so only had water en route. Or, as some other runners have speculated, the course could have been measured badly. Who knows?
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