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.