Embracing the Suck....

Your ego can be a terrible thing. Or do I mean your pride? Or do I just mean mine?

Whatever the answer is, I decided to fight a battle with mine. When you've been fortunate enough to run at a decent level in the past, had time out, had health and injury issues, and know you'll never be back at that level, it's tempting to just hide away from the running world.

I've always said that I run for the love of running, and so was happy to have been able to get back to a place when I can just go out and run (even if those runs are shorter and slower than in the past) but something seemed to be missing. I missed the race community and camaraderie. I managed to get some of that back by going to parkrun, but even then I found myself nervous before each one, and wondered what people would think of my results nowadays.

The Netherhall 10

A chat with a good friend (who has also had injury issues and .....like me.....isn't quite as young as she was) made me realise that I should "get over myself", swallow my pride and just go back and race again. No one except me actually cares that my times are much slower and, like she said, anyone who knows me will just be happy for me that I'm actually back running at all.

Still, knowing this is easier than doing it, and it took me until Friday to enter a race on the Sunday. It was a 10 mile race (so not a common distance), a hilly course (so not designed for speedsters out to record fast times) and was a smallish local event (so I hoped I could go relatively unnoticed). A negative point was that I've previously done well in it, but a positive point was that I remembered there was a massive buffet at the end.

Warming up with my friend Anne

I admit that I nearly turned the car round several times on the way there, and my heart sank when I arrived and saw so many familiar faces (my former club was using it as part of the Grand Prix) but actually this was a blessing in disguise. I jogged with one friend before the race and another one afterwards and we had some great chats, which showed me how much I'd missed the social aspect of running and racing. 

Starting a long way from the "sharp end"

The race itself was a different issue. I started a long way back, partly because I knew that people would sprint off down the first 400m only to turn a corner and have to climb uphill for 1.5 miles, but mainly so that I wasn't tempted to chase people I'd previously have been able to beat. I settled into a pace and gradually worked my way up the field - knowing the course helped, as I knew how long that initial drag was and so went at a pace I could (just about) sustain, and found myself passing several ladies (and more men) along the way. The race finished along the main road that I'd just driven to get there, and so I'd seen signs for the last 3+ miles (funnily enough, my memory of the race in previous years was of 1.5 miles along that road so clearly my memory is failing me with increasing age too).

Just a few undulations in the race profile

I knew there was a steep climb up to that road with some "undulations" in the intervening gap, but again I'd forgotten most of them. I guess you always forget how much effort you've put into races in the past, but I really felt like I was struggling this time. I had to break the race up into tiny segments to get my head round it and not just pull out (my internal debates would have made for some interesting listening). A sharp descent (and corner) saw a few men fly past me (I've never like steep descents, but I'm even more tentative of the impact now with my dodgy bones) but surprisingly no women. I then made it a target to get to the next mile marker before a lady caught me. 

Trying not to look as if I was
suffering too much 

Just after the 7 mile marker, there was a slight variation to the route I'd previously run. It was for safety reasons, as we'd previously had to run a short stretch along the verge of the road where there was no footpath, and now we were directed sharply up to the left around a small village green and back down to the road again. My body was telling me in no uncertain terms that I'd been trying to go faster than I was capable of, so I confess that I did slow to more of a cheeky jog. This must have revived me slightly as my 9th mile was then one of my fastest. 

Both feet (just) off the ground at the finish!

The last section does have a significant downhill stretch round a couple of corners, but then the sting in the tail is the climb back up to the finish in the last 400m. Most people manage to sprint this knowing the end is in sight (and I'm sure I've done the same in the past) but this time I was "done" and felt like I could barely raise my speed above jogging pace as I crosser the line. 

Still, the time is irrelevant, as I'd actually done it, and had had a lovely time catching up with some good friends (who, as promised, were just happy to see me out running again) ......and the buffet was as amazing as I'd remembered.

Snow Shenanigans

I've definitely missed the social aspect of racing - due to living where I do, most of my running was done alone, but races were where I always had a chance to catch up with people and chat/socialise (well, races and parkruns!!). I have probably missed the effort a lot less, but as I was already going over to Durham last Saturday, I decided to brave a XC race "en route".

It was the North East Masters' XC championships and I was very anxious about just taking part. To be completely honest, I didn't know whether my ego could take it. I ran the event 2 years ago and won the ladies' race overall, but after all the problems of the last couple of years and how I've had to deal with them, I thought I'd be struggling to go with the pace of a of proportion of the field. Still, I always say that I have more respect for those runners who are still happy to compete when they're not at the top of their game, and just get stuck in and try their hardest...so it was a case of putting my money where my mouth is. That didn't make the drive over any easier...and I was tempted to go straight to Durham on several occasions.

Spot the tobogganers....

The past few days had been very cold (-6 on some mornings) and icy in SW Scotland, but we'd had clear skies. Not so for NE England, as their cloud cover meant it had been "slightly" warmer, but much snowier - in fact, all the parkruns (except 1 which was run mainly on the beach) had been cancelled that morning due to the adverse weather conditions. Unfortunately (for me), the XC wasn't cancelled and the roads weren't bad so I made it to Wallsend in plenty of time to register (and catch up with a few friends - some of whom had recently read my RED-S article in the latest issue of Athletics Weekly).

I did a lap of the course as a warm-up (wearing thermals, jacket and tights!!) and decided that it was going to be an "interesting" run. I could feel my calves (and not in a good way), especially the left one, after just a few steps, as running on snow felt like running on unstable sand. There was a trampled path from the start, but it was only about 2 foot wide, and so not much use to those of us who are slow starters and cannot sprint off, but it became easier to run as the path climbed up the first hill. A wide plateau led to the next climb but from that high point, the steep run down was through new snow (I felt I had an OK grip in my fell shoes but wondered what XC spikes would be like with no heel studs). There was then a small trod which contoured all the way round 2 sides of the park and then we had to climb back up beside some trees to the high point we'd been at previously. To make this last climb a bit more testing, there were also tobogganers using the same hill, so the last bit of our "up" was the same as the start of their "down"...ie it had become rather polished and more slippery (I did fear for a few accidents during the course of the event). It was all downhill (ish) from there to the finish, but just that one lap of jogging had exhausted me so I didn't know how I'd manage the actual race.

Making up places on the plateau

I marvelled at some of the other runners in their vests and shorts (I wasn't taking my thermal top off and kept my hands up my sleeves) and warily made my way to the startline. We were there just long enough to start freezing before we were off. As I'd predicted, a few speedsters shot off (Sharon Bulman, who won the race, was never seen again!!) and I was stuck midpack. Even when fit, I start slowly and relatively far back in the field, so I do remember running through longer grass and round bushes to pass people in those first few hundred metres 2 years ago. This time was no different, except that I also had the deeper snow to contend with. I made up more places as we started to climb, but was probably somewhere in the 20s as we reached the plateau. This short section was wide enough for me to pass a couple more, and then I picked up another couple of places going up again so that I headed off downhill in 6th, though there was a good gap in front of me.

Chasing down 3rd, 4th and 5th

Grip didn't seem too much of a problem descending (but that might be because I just cannot fling myself fast down a slope at the best of times), and I gradually closed the gap ahead of me on the narrow cambered contouring path. The first 2 ladies were way off ahead but 3,4 and 5 were all running close to each other. I caught up to them as we climbed up the hill again, but as the path was narrow and slippy, they checked my pace as I couldn't go fast enough to be able to pass them....and unsurprisingly they started to open up the gap again as we headed back down towards the start. As the slope levelled out I tried to lengthen my stride...or increase my pace...or something. Whatever I did, I managed to move up 3 places into 3rd and almost celebrated....until I realised that I still had another lap to run!

Being chased on lap 2

The second lap was definitely harder than the first, as I no longer had any girls to pass or close in on - the first 2 were well ahead of me, and I was in fear of being passed the whole time, especially as I could always hear people encouraging those behind me so knew they were close. It was nice to see a few friendly faces on the 2-way sections, and I did get a few shouts out myself (at least I think "Well Done Josie" was aimed at me!). I'd open up more of a gap on the climbs, but it always seemed to close up again and as I struggled and slipped up the last slope, I just didn't feel able to get away.

Chased down to the wire...

I heard the lady behind me getting closer and closer, so much so that I was convinced I could her every breath. Every time I stumbled in a slushy pocket I expected her to fly past. I'd actually been willing her to pass me all lap, as I wanted to give up with the excuse that I knew I was out of the medals, but as we neared the finish I really didn't want to lose it in front of everyone. Knowing that I cannot sprint for toffee, I decided to open up early, and just gunned it from the last hedge to the finish......though I probably looked like I was auditioning for "Bambi on Ice". In the end I held on to 3rd by 2 seconds, and then found out that the ladies in front of me had been in the category above and below me, so I'd somehow won the V40 gold medal!

Just rewards :-)

The best part of the run was the camaraderie afterwards as we all congratulated each other (whilst bent double and gasping for breath) just over the line, and then headed off for a nice chatty cool down (and cake courtesy of the Sunderland Strollers)!! I'm so glad that I decided to go despite my hesitation (though my calves probably won't let me forget it for some time to come)!