Lessons in Humility

My parents have always been very supportive of me, but my mother recently told me that she was very impressed with how I'd accepted my injury/health problems and just got on with life. I don't think I've done anything special, as there's not much I can do except accept it. Yes, I get despondent at times, especially when I see others running times I used to run and events I used to run, and it can get me down, but stropping and crying over it won't exactly achieve much. I just have to accept who I am now and where I am now, and alter my priorities/ambitions accordingly.

The British Masters Medals

I do still shy away from races, but do realise that it's only me that is bothered by my times, and so I should just get over myself and get on with it. It was the British Masters 10k championships at the weekend - I had been told by friends that it was going to be part of the Port of Blyth 10k months ago, but I just couldn't bring myself to enter. When I was finally talked into it (I realised that masters running is much "bigger than me" and I should do my bit to encourage participation), entry had closed as the race was full. I joined the waiting list, but soon moved up and was allowed to enter.

I hadn't run a 10k since 2017 and thought that my times then (around the 37+ minute mark) were disappointing, yet now I'd be "happy" to run under 41 minutes. The week prior to the race I developed what I called "manflu" (basically a head cold combined with achy joints) but it soon morphed into sinusitis and laryngitis, so I felt pretty unwell (that's an understatement......I felt like I couldn't breathe at all one night as I kept developing a film across my throat) and eventually caved in and started antibiotics (so then you could add antibiotic-associated gut rot into the equation). I certainly had enough excuses to run badly!

"Perfect" race weather

I went to Blyth anyway, as I really needed to catch up (all things 50k selection/management) with one of the organisers, and was asked if I would be prepared to hand out the Masters medals. I felt rather honoured, and as I wasn't going to have to say anything (I had approximately no voice) I agreed (not that I'm that good at smiling and having my photo taken either). Rather than just hang around for several hours until the presentation, I decided that I might as well register and run, as the out and back nature of the course meant that if I felt really rubbish I could just stop and walk back.
I adjusted my target from a lofty sub-41 to a sub-45minute run, but nearly stuffed this up too as I had to make a mercy dash into a local hotel to use the bathroom just before the start. On finally joining the start field, I recognised a clubmate and was just saying to her that I thought I should move a bit further forward when we noticed that people were already running....oops! We were so in the thick of the crowds that we couldn't move faster than a walk as we crossed the start timing mats. This led me into a panic first mile where I probably ran way too fast, weaving round people and moving up the field. It did, however, get the adrenaline flowing and I continued at a similar pace for the next mile as I didn't want to slip back down the field again.

Clearly loving it....not!

The outward course involved running along a road, then on pavements beside the main road, until we turned down to the seafront and ran along the prom. At the end of the prom we wound through dunes (on a tarmac path, though I did have to stray off it on occasions to pass people) and then turned onto a short grassy section. This finished with a couple of metres of steep uphill onto the main road. That's where the interest in the course ended as the route back was almost along the footpath along the (very straight) main road until we turned the corner into the Port area where we'd started. I passed a couple of ladies but managed to croak out that they shouldn't worry about me as I was about to fade bigtime.

Presenting Aly with her Masters Gold medal

Even though it was only a 10k, I had to break it down into smaller sections of a mile or half a mile to make me keep going. By the end I couldn't believe runners ahead were still continuing straight and hadn't turned down into the port, so my mental sections must've got down to about 400m lengths. Although a lady with a "50" on her back passed me in the final stretch I hadn't seen any near me with a "40" on (though I knew Aly Dixon would win the race easily and she had recently entered my age group). It was nice to see some familiar faces and hear them shout out as I ran down the finish funnel. I couldn't believe the clock when I saw it and so managed a slight sprint as it saw the second ticking up ...57....58....59...but I did it. My clock time was 38.59, way faster than I thought I could run, and my chip time lowered this by 12s due to my stuff up at the start, so I actually recorded a faster time than the ladies finishing just in front of me! (As an extra bonus - kudos to the race organisers - they provided some womens' t-shirts in a size 8!!)

 

The hard-earned half-
marathon wristband

A happy parkrunning family :-)

Yes, not that long ago I would have been upset with the time, but now I was just so happy to have run way faster than my expectations. Maybe I should reset the clock and have post-REDs PBs. In reality, I am getting so much more out of running than my own performances these days, whether it be managing British ultra teams, doing parkruns with my parents, introducing a friend's daughter to junior parkrun and watching her come to love it and so work towards her half marathon wristband, helping injured friends by setting them crosstraining sessions, organising track sessions for the local running club (and making them do drills), and helping others train for marathons (whether a first timer or a runner who has underperformed at the distance in the past) - I can still live my love of running through others! Onwards and upwards!