Something Inside So Strong

Racing and being competitive really was not why I got into running – much more a desire to get healthy and lose some weight – but now I find the buzz of a race itself a real incentive to push hard and compete.

I realise I am never going to win any of the races I enter. Others in the race are either younger and fitter, my age and fitter or older and fitter, but that really is not the point. The races that I am doing are all about the inner competition between me and the clock. And that also raises another question. If I am always racing to end up losing, am I really enjoying the experience?

I had two races this week. Well, one race and one charity race so not quite the same thing. The good news is that the groin injury which I have been struggling with for the past few weeks is definitely easing. Resting up a bit and not running as much – as frustrating as that has undoubtedly been – has absolutely helped the healing process. While I still have some twinges I am perfectly comfortable running once again wth no ill effects afterwards.

Not only did I have two races, but they were also both on the same day. I should quantify this. The first race was a run of slightly more than two miles for charity along the runway at Aberdeen Airport. The Aberdeen Airport Runway Run took place at midnight last weekend and I ran it with my daughter. It was a great thing to do, an unusual event, very relaxed and an unique experience. Having gone down that runway hundreds of times over the past few years through work, it felt very odd running along it and looking over to see the planes and the terminal building.

The Strava map was more unusual than most

And the race was never about time, it was about enjoying the experience and sharing that with my daughter and others who did the event. But it did mean that I did not get to my bed until around 2am on Sunday morning, which was hardly the best preparation fot the other race, a local 10km run at Westhill just outside Aberdeen which started at 10am.

As it is quite a small event, with around four hundred runners, I had to drive over to pick up my number so had only had about five hours sleep before making my way over and on to the start line itself. What with having the injury and the run the night before – and I had also been briefed that it was a “challenging” course – I went into the race with few expectations of a time and the main intention was simply to just enjoy it.

Waiting at the start line

And then, of course, the race started and everything changed. Having set a new PB earlier in the year on a very flat course of 48.28, at a time when I felt in really good shape, I had conceded there was no way I was going to achieve that. I went out and tried to run based on “feel”, rather than constantly looking at my watch to see my elapsed time or my average mile pace (I always pace in miles, even when it is a 5km or 10km event, it is just the way my brain works).

As the start of the route was basically straight uphill before a flat section then more hills until we got to around 3km, this was just about getting into a rhythm and feeling comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can be in the opening part of a race with a start as hilly as that was. At around 4km there was a steep descent and I took advantage of that to push on, but again just trying to regulate my breathing and stay within myself. I never looked at my watch once.

As I got to about halfway, I felt ok but not brilliant. This was not one of these runs where everything came naturally. And then I turned and saw what lay ahead of me. Between 5km and 6km there was a very steep incline and from there until the end of the race it was full of undulations. None as severe as that one, but I really felt that the effort required to get through that part of the course had a major impact on my pace. After that, it was a bit of a survival contest just to get to the end in reasonable shape.

The hill at halfway was awful…

The course did have further downhill sections as it wound its way through the houses around Westhill, and I got a bit mixed up as I could not recall if the last marker I had seen was for 7km or 8km. It is at times like these that when people out supporting say, “not far to go”, it truly is not helping!

But luckily, the next marker I did see was for 9km and that was when I looked at my watch. To my astonishment, particularly how badly I felt at that point, I had a shot at a sub-50 minute time. Had you told me a few months ago that I would ever run sub-50 for a 10km I would never have believed you, but here I was on a tough, hill course on a warm day where I could achieve it for the second time in two months.

Well the competitive gene really kicked in at that point and I pushed on to get to the finish line, glancing at my watch all the way. Now in my head, as I approached the line, I was pushing hard but gliding my way to the finish, eating up the ground and maintaining perfect form. The picture tells a different story, a truer image of what was actually going on.

Hard going at this point

I was a vein-bulging, breathless, sweaty mess desperate for the line to come so I could stop and have a rest. I actually felt sorry for the volunteer who kindly handed me a bottle of water and the medal just after the finish line as I must have looked like I was ready to keel over. I certainly felt like it at that precise moment.

Like everything, I recovered fairly quickly, though not quick enough to realise that I should have gone and picked up my time from the timekeepers at the end, rather than spend the rest of the day checking out the website to see if the results had been posted. I had started my Fitbit before I crossed the start line and stopped it just after I finished and it was showing a sub-50 time but for me, the official chip tme is the one that counted.

Initially my time showed as 49 minutes 57 seconds, so I was doubly glad of that final bit of sinew stretching agony to cross the line (though as that time was slower than my Fitbit I was a bit confused). As it turned out, this was my gun time, my chip time got updated later that night as 49 minutes 43 seconds.

I cannot tell you how happy I am with that time. As I just turned 50 last week, to run sub-50 gives me really special satisfaction. I also liked the fact that I was in the “Super Veteran” category for the race. God, I really am getting old.

The race had the usual impact on me, bringing out the competitive streak as soon as I got going and pushing myself to do my best. Racing is not about winning for me, not about beating others. It is about winning the inner struggle when you are telling yourself to stop and it is about realising the challenge is between you and the distance.

The smile was about the bling and the time and not much else

But I also have to confess that I did not particularly enjoy it. I enjoyed the finish and have enjoyed, with a bit of time to reflect, the time I set, but during the race itself, that was really hard going. I felt I was pushing myself far more than I had intended, even though I was trying to run on feel. In order to keep it going, I had to just knuckle down and get through it. I never really took in much of the scenery, particularly in the early part of the race out in the countryside. And at the end, after a drink and getting the medal, all I really wanted to do was get back home and rest up.

Does that matter? Surely the whole point of racing is to find out your limits, see what you can achieve, drive on to greater goals. Maybe it is. And there is certainly something in me that wants to do that every time I get to a start line, but for pure enjoyment, there was no doubt that the Runway Run was a much more pleasurable experience.

The other thing about last weekend was that these will be my last races for a couple of months anyway. The next race on my calendar is the Aberdeen Half Marathon at the end of August, so while I will continue to run regularly over the coming weeks, at least I do not have to contemplate another race experience for a little while. Having raced every month since March – one marathon, two 10kms, a half marathon, two virtual running challenges and the 21 mile Brewdog Run, plus regular Parkruns – mentally I feel like I need a break. I am doing another virtual challenge through July, but I am also going on holiday so will not be racking up loads of miles (though I will, of course, be taking my running kit with me).

Overall, I am delighted with last week’s efforts, no doubt about it. Sub-50? I will take that every day of the week, but if I do that kind of time again, I really would like to enjoy the experience a bit more.

Everybody Hurts

Training for a race can be straightforward. You get a plan. You stick to the plan. You run. This week I have faced a more challenging issue. I have picked up a bit of an injury so now I am having to work out when NOT to run.

Now again, you might think this is easy. Just stop running. Give things a bit of a rest and a bit of time to recover then get back into it once more. In many ways, this would be the right approach, but for various reasons, I am terrified about not running.

I began to feel a bit sore a couple of weeks ago after a hard seven mile run, it feels like a strain in my groin on the left hand side, just below my stomach. It is not hugely painful, just a dull ache, but it is quite sore if I am lying down and then sit up. It probably was not ideal that I picked this up just before I did the twenty one mile Brewdog Run last weekend, but you cannot plan these things. There was no way I was not doing the run, and to be frank, the injury is not so painful that it prevents me running. It is just a constant niggle.

During the run itself, generally I felt fine, though as the distance mounted up, the injury became steadily more uncomfortable and stiff. Mind you, what probably did not help was basically a six mile hill in the middle part of the run itself, which you can see in the image at the top of the blog. The incline was very gentle – the run is mainly along a former railway line so it is not exactly the north face of the Eiger – but it did go on for what felt like a very, very long time. It was also quite exposed and was probably the worst of the weather that day, with a bit of a breeze across and against and rain.

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I did the run with a friend from the JogScotland group and that made it really enjoyable, plus with a couple of stops along the way, there was also the opportunity to sample a couple of beers to keep me going. Before a pile more at the finish at the Brewdog Brewery of course!

Just as the rain started, the first beer of the day after 10km

Normally I would not even contemplate having anything other than water or the electrolyte drink I usually take on a long run such as this, but as this was very much a fun run rather than a race I had made up my mind beforehand that I was going to enter into the spirit of the event. Far too often, I take this far too seriously, so this was a good chance to relax and have a bit of fun. I did find it strange to have the two stops, and it was quite a challenge to get back into a rhythm after stopping for ten minutes or so to grab a drink and some chocolate. I guess for trail running, if I ever get into that, then this is another skill to learn.

The Brewdown Run medal may be paper but it means as much as my others

After the run was finished, I definitely stiffened up and while my legs felt fine come Sunday, my groin was pretty painful. So much so, that I decided to have a few days rest, even eschewing my usual Tuesday night JogScotland run, and I also put some Ice-cold healing cream that I got as a freebie at the Barcelona Expo to help things along.

This brings me to the point about being scared of not running. This will sound a bit irrational, but I fear if I stop running, even for a short while, I will lose all of my fitness, my motivation to run will go and as a consequence I will begin to put weight back on again. Three years ago I bought a Fitbit, went on a diet, started walking and lost around fifty pounds in weight and I am determined never to go back to those days and while I have put on a bit of weight since my run in Barcelona I really rely on my regular running regime to help me keep the pounds off. This week I received a Shooting Star badge from Fitbit for climbing twenty thousand flights of stairs since I first started logging my exercise with them back in 2016.

A Fitbit on its own is not going to help change your lifestyle, but for me it has acted as my digital nag through all these years to keep me going. While I do watch my diet now a lot more than I used to , I still feel that it is the running that helps the most to burn off the calories. Over the best part of nine months now I have run at least three times a week, normally four, sometimes five and occasionally six. It feels like such a wrench to sit on the sofa and not do anything, particularly as the injury does not totally stop me running, it just feels uncomfortable when I do.

On Thursday night, I was back out with my JogScotland group, though I stuck with the six and a half mile group, rather than the seven mile group to take things a little easier. Then on Saturday, I went for a solid Parkrun rather than trying to really go for it. I was delighted to once again get sub-twenty five minute time, particularly as I felt that while I was working hard, I was nowhere near going full out. To get to a point where running sub-twenty five minutes for five kilometres feels straightforward gives me so much joy and confidence.

Something else which gave me joy this week was receiving my medal for the Miles for Mind Challenge I did throughout May. This is a virtual challenge to run as many miles as you can in the month to raise money for a mental health charity. While I pledged to do fifty miles, I ended up doing one hundred and twenty five, an indication of how well I felt in the month (and maybe why I am so anxious about not running now!).

The Haribo was an added bonus from the race organisers, the company RUNR

But back to the injury. Next weekend I have two runs planned – the first is the Aberdeen Runway Run, very much a three kilometre fun run with my daughter, and the second is a local 10km race at Westhill near Aberdeen. For the 10km race, I fully intend to take things pretty easy. Then after that? I have no more races until the end of August. The challenge I have then is can I really ease things off? This week I have run three times and I feel so lazy and so unfit. I guess I need to confess that I am addicted to running and giving it up, even for a short while, is going to be really tough to do. With that fear in my head about heading back to the fat days, it is such a hard decision to make.

Words

I found myself this week reading through a magazine. As I leafed through the pages I found waves of emotion pulsing over me. At one point, I began to well up, tears forming in my eyes as I stared at the page in front of me. The pages I was looking at? Ones that showed the route of the Barcelona Marathon.

As I looked at the route, memories began to flood back. How I felt at various points, what the sights were, the places on the course where I had seen my wife and the amazing feeling to see her near the finish line with only a few hundred metres to go, the crowds on the course and the encouragement they gave, the other runners I spoke to during the race, the start, the finish, the tough times. And it was like I was back there in the Catalan capital, so fresh were the feelings that were coursing through my veins.

This made me start to think, why did just looking at the pages of a magazine prompt so much emotion? How could something as simple as a route map showing the zig zag course that traversed the city centre from mile zero to mile twenty six point two provoke something so raw that I began to think I was going to burst into tears? This was the second time that this had happened in the past two weeks – the other time was when I was talking to a friend about the race. Just discussing the generosity of the crowds – the simple kindness of strangers to come out onto the streets to encourage people they have never met to help get them to the finish line – had me biting my lip to keep the emotion inside. As I write this now, I feel it so strongly once again.

I have done lots of running since Barcelona, and Barcelona was not even my first marathon. But while I am very proud of everything I have achieved over the past couple of years, nothing has affected me emotionally as that day on Sunday, March 10, 2019. I remember welling up during the race at various points as the crowds called out “venga, venga”, “animos” and “campiones”. This was something truly unforgettable. And of course, there is the sheer relief of finishing, of getting over the line, of ending that journey of hundreds of miles through the Scottish Autumn, Winter and early Spring and having that medal placed around my neck. My memories of those closing moments in the Plaza Espana are crystal clear and precious.

But it is not the finish line feeling that came over me when I was reading the magazine, nor when I was talking to my friend about the race. It was a true sense of feeling humbled by what I had gone through and how all of these other people reacted to the achievement of me and the other runners.

” it transcends that solitary experience and makes it a collective one. “

Marathon training and running is tough and is often solitary. No one is forcing you to do it, no one is dragging you out of bed to go and do a fifteen mile run on a freezing cold January morning – no one except you. So when you do experience something truly extraordinary – as I did on that day with those other thousands of runners – when people give up their time to come onto the streets to do what they can to help and get you to the finish line, it transcends that solitary experience and makes it a collective one. It has created space in my heart for an emotional reaction the likes of which I never believed the simple act of running a race could have created.

As I looked at the pages I could hear the crowd once more. The individuals who called out my name – their faces I could picture, their accents I could distinguish. For some reason, I distinctly recall hearing a young Irish woman call out “keep going, Craig” as I passed through towards the Arc de Triomphe. I think I recall her because it was so unexpected, almost surreal, to hear a Celtic accent in amongst all of the Catalans.

” nothing feels as tough as some of those times “

But the waves of emotion also reflect how hard it was and how I dealt with those times. I have had runs since which have had challenging moments, but when I feel that way I just recall that nothing feels as tough as some of those times during that Barcelona run. The positive emotions are about discovering what I was capable of, during difficult moments. About not giving in, about not stopping, about keeping going, about defeating that voice in my head that wanted me to give in to the desire to walk.

I am sure as time passes these emotions will fade but I do not want them to dim. I want to continue to recall things as vividly as I do today. I want to believe that for the rest of my days the sounds of those voices will still ring in my head and that the simple act of looking at a magazine will take me back to one of my greatest running days.

Running is straightforward. It is just putting one foot in front of the other. And for a marathon it is just a case of doing that for a long time. But the emotion is something else. That feeling. That sense of yourself. That intangible essence of achievement. And how the kindness of strangers helped get me through it. Magical. So intense it can bring you to tears.

Even Flow

The ability of running to surprise me was not really something I had anticipated when I took up the sport about three years ago. Since that time, the challenges that it poses, and the ways that I have handled them, has taught me a lot about myself and this week proved again that I am continuing to learn and that perhaps I am more capable than I thought.

Saturday was all about my usual Parkrun and I ended up running with a friend, who I bumped into while doing my normal one mile warm-up. I still want to try and lower my Parkrun PB of 23 minutes 32 seconds, but as I had done the Chester Half Marathon the weekend before, on the day I did not feel that I was in good enough shape to try and beat iy , so we had an enjoyable run together and once again I sneaked under twenty five minutes for the 5K run, helping her to a new PB. To get under 25 minutes was something I had never thought I would achieve when I began going to Parkrun, so to be doing it regularly now is a real pleasure.

As it was a Bank Holiday weekend – though I live in Scotland I get the English Bank Holidays – I had decided that I would not run on Sunday, which is my usual day for long runs. Instead I would leave it until Monday as no one else in the house was off and we could do other things on Sunday itself (we ended up doing some wallpapering so maybe I should have gone for a run :-)). It also poured with rain for most of Sunday morning so I thought I had made the right call to leave it until the following day.

” running is as much in my head as it is in my lungs and my legs “

My next run – it is not really a race – is the Brewdog Run on Saturday, June 8, which is a twenty one mile run from the centre of Aberdeen to the Brewdog Brewery which is in a small town called Ellon. Since running the Barcelona Marathon back in March, I have not come close to running that kind of distance, so even though it is not a race and more a fun run with stops each 10k, I had wanted to do something of around 16-17 miles to get that confidence back that I would be able to manage the distance. For me, running is as much in my head as it is in my lungs and my legs.

Come Monday morning, it was a bright day, certainly better than Sunday, so I headed out for my run, really planning to take it quite easy, get in the miles and reassure myself that the run itself would be quite comfortable. I had not intention of pushing things hard or even about particularly paying attention to my watch, other than to check the overall distance itself.

I am racing at the Great Aberdeen Run at the end of August, so I had decided that I would run the course, with a couple of miles added on at the start and finish for me to get to the route from my house and bac, so I knew that this would get me towards the distance that I was aiming for. As always, the first few miles are downhill so I used this time to get into a rhythm, balance out my breathing and get into the run itself. The first time I looked at my watch was after about three miles, things felt easy so I just carried on as I was.

The next part of the route is quite scenic, through some of the historic parts of the city – Brig of Balgownie, St Machar Cathedral and the University of Aberdeen – and that took me towards six miles. I have run this route a number of times before so I did not even have to look at my watch to know that this was roughly how far I had gone.

” I seriously had to think really hard to work out how quick I was going. “

The next time I did look at my watch was as I was heading towards Queen’s Cross – in the real route of the race, this is around one mile to go, but for me this was at about nine miles or so and I was feeling a bit tired – and I could not quite believe what I saw. I was running at well under nine minute a mile pace, in fact much closer to eight minute pace. My half marathon PB is 1 hour 59 minutes and 6 seconds so this was way inside that. I seriously had to think really hard to work out how quick I was going. I even looked at the watch a few times to check I had not misread it. I usually wear glasses but not when I run but right enough, my pace was far quicker than I had anticipated.

And the thing was, I did not feel like I was pushing it. Yes, I was a bit tired but no wonder. I was going far faster for far longer than I had ever done before. Realising quick I was going had the effect of spurring me on. Could I keep this going round to half marathon distance? I knew that this would still leave me a few miles to go to get home but I thought I would push on, try and maintain the pace as far as I could go and see where I ended up.

Now this was where I made a schoolboy error. I paused my Fitbit and though I thought I had restarted it, it was a couple of minutes before I realised I had not, so I had probably covered a few hundred metres before switching it back on. Not to worry, this was not going to deter me.

” the craziest thing was my running felt easy “

Dodging shoppers was the main priority now as the route took me down Aberdeen’s main shopping street and out towards the harbour area then round to the beachfront. I knew that I would pass half marathon distance around this point so I was checking my watch regularly to see when this would happen. I was still in shock, but the craziest thing was my running felt easy. My breathing was fine. I did not feel like I was struggling. It was one of these days where everything just clicked into place. It was incredible as I headed down towards the beachfront in the city.

Grey skies and showers framed my run

As I got to 13.1 miles I stopped to check my time, take a gel and take a picture of my watch. 1 hour 45 minutes and 25 seconds. This was almost 14 minutes faster than my previous best. At the end of the run my Strava shows the half marathon time as 1 hour 49 minutes and 22 seconds, presumably accounting for the time when my watch was paused (doh), but even that is 10 minutes quicker. Totally, totally unbelievable.

I simply had to take a picture of my Fitbit at half marathon distance

The biggest challenge I had then was, I still had four miles left to go to get home!! And two of those miles were basically straight up a steep hill. Plus, it was now pouring with rain. There had been some showers during the run but now it was chucking it down and when you are on Aberdeen beachfront you are very exposed to the elements. However, I just slowed things down and kept going.

” I focused on keeping my breathing rhythm steady”

The weird thing about those final miles was that I felt like I was crawling as I was going so slow, particularly uphill. It as another mental test to not walk but to just keep putting one foot in front of the other move up the slope. I focused on keeping my breathing rhythm steady and I found that really helped maintain my concentration through the tough parts. A short downhill section and I was home – 17 miles done in 2 hours 23 minutes and 1 second, an average pace of 8 minutes 23 seconds per mile!! On those uphill sections where I felt I was crawling, I was still hitting roughly 10 minute miles, which, if I am honest, was the overall pace I had gone out hoping to achieve.

I cannot really explain why that run ended up like that. I had done no special preparation for it – I even had a glass of wine the night before the run, something I never do on the eve of a race – and went out with little expectation. Perhaps that was it, running with no pressure, just going with the flow, not paying too much attention to the watch and at a pace that felt challenging but sustainable.

If I could bottle how that run felt I would. It is runs like this that make all the effort worthwhile. I know that my next run will likely feel very different, tougher, less fluid. But for the moment I have this run, this surprising run, to reflect on and to give me that confidence and resilience that when the time comes I am capable of much more than I ever thought I was.