Two weeks ago, for the first time in 18 months, I pinned on a race bib. I ran the St Neots half marathon and it reminded me that, despite what we see and share online, running isn’t really about racing. I started running to get fit and it took me six years to enter a race. When I ran, I ran alone. It didn’t occur to me that I might want to run *with* other people, let alone against them.
In the year 2000 I was living in Cambridge, and my friend Caroline talked me into joining weekly runs with the Hash House Harriers. It was fun, and I realised that a) I enjoyed the running much more than the drinking, and b) I was definitely a front-runner keen to sniff out the route, and not a back-of-the-pack conversationalist.
My first race was the Grunty Fen half marathon. I can’t remember if I did any training – doubtful – but thanks to the internet (yes, it existed then) the results are online and I can tell you that I finished in 1:53:45. The race was in September and it was very hot and extremely flat. There was no shade and few spectators. At one point there was a slight slope and everyone started complaining about “the hill”.
One race down, I obviously entered the London marathon (..a tale as old as time..). I applied for a charity place and, as soon as I’d raised the money, got a stress fracture in my foot from wearing new trainers on my first 20 mile run (..tune as old as song..).
Have I learned anything in the past thirty years? I was pondering this on the way to St Neots. I’ve spent the past 18 months dealing with persistent knee /foot issues. With physio exercises and strength training, I’ve kept them at bay and kept running, but I haven’t managed to do “proper” (as in high mileage) training.
What I did manage was 2-3 easy runs, plus a long run at the weekend. I tried a few speed sessions, but struggled to find a pace and stick to it. My splits were all over the place, my lungs feeling like they were going to burst out of my chest, knees creaking scarily for days afterwards. For the last few weeks I dropped the speed and just tried to include some half marathon pace miles in one run a week. But what was half marathon pace? It started at 7:45 minutes a mile, then dropped to 8s, to 8:30s, then to… whatever I could manage that day.
Like the peaks and troughs of my low mileage progress chart on strava, St Neots half is described as “slightly undulating”. That’s one of the reasons I love it. This was my third – and slowest – dash around the country roads around Abbotsley village and a reminder that there are enough slopes to keep it interesting, but not too many to make it hard.
I finished the race in 1:41:56. A whole 13.1 miles at 7:45 pace. I was amazed! On the day it felt controlled, like I was holding back for the first five, pushing for the next four, and only feeling the strain in the final four. My new carbon plate shoes (yes I caved) helped in the race and with recovery. I felt really strong on the uphills, which I’m putting down to squats and deadlifts, and the last four miles of St Neots are (very slightly) downhill which makes it easier for the mind if not actually for the legs.
Even though I was doing the race for fun, and time wasn’t important, I felt nervous on the way to St Neots. Why was I worried when nothing was at stake? I have been thinking about this. My friend Laura was running too, and also feeling a bit nervous despite not aiming for a fast time (for her).
No matter what your goal, there is so much that is stressful about a race: eating at the right time, drinking enough but not too much, going to the toilet, wearing the right clothes. Getting these things right is hard enough, then you have to run the thing.
But once the race is underway, all there’s left to do is run. Running doesn’t have to be about racing, but racing is always just running. And running is the same as it’s always been: one foot in front of the other, cold air, warm breath, blue sky, green fields. Breathe in, breathe out. Same as it ever was.
Not a Jogger 