No Half Measures

December 30, 2021. 7.45 am. I am standing, in the dark, bent over double, trying to catch my breath. Running to meet a friend, I have just planted my foot in a pothole in the middle of the road and gone right over my right ankle. The pain is searing through my lower leg and foot. I think I might have broken it. A stream of expletives flow through my head and out my mouth. I had injured the same ankle about two months before. I had had Covid in December and was just getting back to running again. And now this. Now this…..

By the time I had hobbled home – and called my friend, wincing in pain, to let her know I was not going to make it – my ankle had already blown up like a balloon. I laid down on my bed but the pain was too great, I could not lie flat. I made it to the kitchen to get an ice pack on it and to put it up. At that point, I thought my dream of running the half marathon in New York in March had gone.

March 20, 2022. 7.45am. I am standing, as the sun comes up, in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, New York, at the start line of my dream race. Somehow, somehow, I have made it here. As I glance around at the thousands of other runners gathered in that corner of the city, and I hear the starter call our wave to get ready, as we are all about to embark on the race, I feel the emotion of it all well up in me. I am breathing hard. Not with effort. Not with exhaustion. Not with nerves about what lay ahead. I am breathing hard with relief. And to try and stop me from crying. After everything that had happened, I was ready to run.

In the start coral, ready to go

I had flown to New York on Friday ahead of the race. I had planned out my weekend pretty well, abandoning any idea of adjusting to the four hour time difference, partly because I was there for such a short time, but also I would need to be up super early on the morning of the race to make sure I was at the start in plenty of time.

After collecting my bib number and my bag for the drop off at the race expo, I had decided that I would make the journey on the New York subway out from Manhattan, where I was staying, to Brooklyn, just so I knew exactly where to go on the Sunday morning. I realise that this might sound like overkill, but I wanted to take as much stress out of the morning of the race as possible. I believe that you get stressed enough about the race without adding anything additional to it.

Number in hand, sorted for the race

That journey ticked off, I headed back into the city for a bit of sightseeing on the Staten Island Ferry, as much as anything to push in time. I also did not want to do too much on the Saturday, knowing the fun and games which lay ahead on Sunday morning.

Pizza is also my go to meal the night before a race, so based on a recommendation from staff at the hotel, Vito’s Ices and Slices was the pizza place of choice for my carbo loading.

Carbo loading done, then it was back to the hotel to fix my number to my JogScotland running top, lay out all my stuff, get my bag ready for the drop-off area by attaching my sticky label and try and chill out. As I was still pretty much running on UK time, I was in bed by 8pm, knowing that, to be frank, I probably was not going to sleep too well anyway.

The flat lay of everything for the morning

Sure enough, a fitful night’s sleep ended at around 4am as I decided I should just wake up and get up anyway. I needed to leave the hotel shortly before 5.30am to get the train out to Brooklyn. It was an odd experience walking through the near deserted streets of New York and then go down into the station and see that almost everyone there was also ready to race.

A twenty five minute journey later and a short walk into the park then got us to the first of the check points for the bag drop. Going a bit earlier than I needed to meant that there was hardly any queuing to get through this, and it was the same at the next security check point with the police that we had to through as well. But it certainly was a first. I had never dropped off a bag before when it was still dark! It also meant zero queues for the toilet and a toilet with toilet paper and hand sanitiser.

At the bag drop before dawn

Then it was just a case of pushing in time before the start. The organisers handed out heat sheets to help us stay warm, as, while it was a beautiful, sunny morning, it was still pretty chilly with a cool breeze as we stood around before the first of the events started.

Staying warm in the early morning chill

America the Beautiful was sung before the first race to go, which was the wheelchair race. The Star Spangled Banner was sung. Then the women’s race went off, then the men’s race and the first wave. Then it was our turn. The horn sounded and we were on our way, but as with most big races, it takes a while before you get close to the actual start line. I believe in walking to the start, rather than running, as we have far enough to go in the actual race without adding anything additional on. But after a couple of minutes of walking, I started my watch, crossed the start line and headed along the path in Prospect Park.

“no real pace expectations”

The opening couple of miles of the race included two of the biggest hills so it really was a case of trying to get through these, establish a decent pace and then see how things went. I had gone in with no real pace expectations, but when a friend asked, I told him I had hoped for around two hours and five minutes. After everything which had happened, I felt that that was a realistic ambition to have.

The first couple of mile safely negotiated, we headed through Brooklyn towards what would likely be one of the major challenges, but also one of the highights of the race – crossing the Manhattan Bridge, which links the two boroughs of the city together. As we ran down towards it, on my right hand side, between two buildings I caught sight of the Empire State Building. But what was more pressing was the large climb which lay ahead, to get us to the crest of the bridge.

As we ran up, however, it was the view which really took my breath away. It genuinely was an “oh wow” moment as we headed up onto the bridge and looked over to our left.

Picture courtesy of Rachel Heller

Thanks to Rachel Heller for letting me use this great shot to highlight just how incredible the view was as we ran over the bridge. Check out her website at https://rachelsruminations.com

The Brooklyn Bridge lay down to our left. The massive skyscrapers of Lower Manhattan stretched to the sky. I remember thinking how tiny the bridge looked compared to the monuments of steel and glass which totally dwarfed it, including the One World Trade Center Building. A truly incredible sight, almost as impressive as some of my fellow runners who managed to get their phones out and take a picture while continuing to move. I am not that brave with a camera!!

From the crest of the bridge we headed steeply down into Chinatown and the first of the really big crowds on the route. There had been small pockets of people in Brooklyn but here was noisy and full of life. We had reached the 10km point, just before halfway.

“I began to struggle”

The next part of the race, to be frank, was quite dull. A long stretch of about four miles along the Franklin D Roosevelt Highway which runs along the side of the East River. There were no crowds here and this part of the course was now in full sunshine. I found this pretty taxing, I felt hot, with a couple of steep inclines which took me by surprise. I began to struggle a bit, so I took my gel, as planned, at between seven and eight miles. With around forty minutes to run, this would give it time to kick in as I got towards the end of the race.

At ten miles we would turn, and that turn would take us up on to 42nd Street. We were into the last five km and into a series of hills towards the finish. The crowds, so absent for previous few miles, were suddenly out in force. Ringing bells, banging drums, playing music, shouting out, urging everyone on.

On any other day, these hills would not seem so harsh and unforgiving, but as I headed up 42nd Street and tried to glance up at the Chrysler Building as a blazing shaft of sunlight reflected against it, I was having to dig pretty deep. Beyond the Chrysler Building was Grand Central Station, though to be frank, I did not see it very much. I was focusing on what was next.

42nd Street and up past the Chrysler Building and Grand Central Station

Because what was next was another, “oh wow” moment. Passing the Empire State Building in the distance to our left, we turned right on 7th Avenue and into Times Square. Times Square is closed twice a year. Once for New Year’s Eve. And the other for the New York Half Marathon. And here I was running through it.

Times Square

We ran past the massive Neon signs, the Nasdaq Building, the ball which drops on New Year’s Eve, the hotel where I stayed with my family on holiday here a few years back, crowds once again in full voice to our left, and we headed up another incline to get to the top of 7th Avenue.

I was toiling and needed a drink, so as a water station loomed up ahead I began to move left to grab a cup of water. Drinking out of a cup is an art when running, and it is an art which I have yet to master. So to be frank, my drinking out of a cup was a bit like that guy in the Airplane film who says he has a drink problem and promptly throws his drink onto his forehead. More of the water landed on me than in me, but I got some down and kept going.

We turned right, Central Park was now beside us and the final mile, which I had been warned, featured the park’s infamous rolling hills. A sharp left and into the park we turned and the first hill appeared. It seemed to stretch on and on. And there was a false crest. We turned and the hill stretched on a bit more.

The start of Central Park’s rolling hills

Rational thought is difficult in the closing mile of a race. I only had one thought at this point. Just. Keep. Going. It did not matter how fast or slow I went. I was just not going to stop. Others around me were stopping or walking. This is not the time to give up. This is the time to dig deep. This is the time to reach down inside yourself to find strength that you did not know you possessed. After everything that had happened, going back to that dark morning in December, there was no way I was giving in now.

The 800m sign showed up. At the start of another hill which seemed to go on and on. Then we went briefly down. The 400m sign appeared. Then the 200m sign. We were still going up. The finish line was up ahead. My legs were in bits. My lungs were screaming. It was like my insides were trying to eat their way out. So much hurt. But I was not going to stop. With my hands raised, I punched the air and I crossed the line. My race was done. I stumbled. I walked. I breathed in very deeply. I stopped my watch. Sweat was seeping into my eyes and it was stinging. I felt so hot. I felt so tired. I felt so relieved. It was done.

The course elevation

As I began to gather myself and walked on, I saw an older gentleman handing out medals so I walked towards him and he handed the medal to me. I had no idea who he was. It turned out he was New York Senator Chuck Schumer, one of America’s best known politicians. I did not know, nor particularly care. All I cared about was the medal I had around my neck. I had done it. I had run the New York Half Marathon.

As I walked on to collect my recovery bag with a drink and some food, get a heat sheet to keep me warm and then collect my back from the pick up area. I went to take a selfie of me with the medal, but my hands were shaking too much. So I asked one of the incredible volunteers to take one for me.

Fist pump of glory

It was a warm morning but soon cooled down after we stopped

Heatsheet wrapped around me, bag picked up, I walked back to my hotel, which was about a mile from the finish (downhill thankfully) and straight into the bar. I needed a drink, and not some water or an energy drink. I needed a drink. The bar and hotel staff congratulated me, I got a cold New York lager and trust me, this was not the last I would have.

In the bar

Now what about my time? After what had happened in December, I genuinely had moments where I thought I would never be able to run a half marathon, so any time would be a bonus. But when I saw it was really happy. To finish in the top half of all of those who took part, to get close to two hours once again and to run a consistent pace throughout the race was well beyond my expectations.

And as for that uphill 5km from 42nd Street? I was speeding up. And that final mile, the one with the climbs through Central Park, the one where I thought I was dying and slowing down? My fastest of the race. See what I mean about never giving up?

I was truly elated. It was a fantastic morning. An incredible course. Some of the most spectacular city views that you would get anywhere. But there was something missing. I did not have anyone to celebrate with. So there was an emptiness about these moments. How I wished my wife and family could have been there with me. How I wished some of my JogScotland club mates could have run the race with me. One of the highlights of the Inverness Half Marathon the weekend before was seeing everyone at the finish and finding out from them how it had gone and sharing in their joy. I had none of that. I had myself. And that would just have to do.

I flew home on Monday night, giving me some time for a final bit of sightseeing around the Times Square area and to capture a photo with my medal in that iconic place. I think I will struggle to find a better location for a picture like this.

Bling in hand in Times Square

And now? Well it is back to normality. I ran with my JogScotland group on Thursday night and I am looking forward to running with my friends this weekend and returning to a bit more regularity around my running, to settle back into a nice routine and to chill for a bit after such a hectic period.

And then it will be on to a race in another iconic location. A 10km run over the spectacular Forth Bridge at the start of May. But what will be forever indelibly marked on me will be the morning in March 2022 when I got to run on these streets and fulfill a long-held ambition. I am a New York Half Marathon finisher. And no one can ever take that away from me.

New York, New York

If runner’s high is a thing – and I certainly believe that it is – then I also believe there is a flip side. Post-race blues.

While last weekend was such a high at the Inverness Half Marathon, which you can read about here, then it was straight back down to earth with a bump when on Monday I received what now seems to be an annual kick in the teeth. The rejection email from the London Marathon ballot.

The rejection notification

I know it is a random ballot, but it is still pretty gutting when the one marathon I think almost every runner in the UK would want to participate is out of reach for another year. Maybe next year, who knows.

Another cause of post-race blues can also be that, after having a target for so long and working to it, then that target is no longer there. The goal has been achieved, the mountain scaled, then the question is what’s next? For me, it is almost always about being motivated for the next goal, and thankfully my next goal is this weekend and it is a massive one. I am running in the New York Half Marathon! (However, I also realise that perhaps all i am doing is postponing the post-race blues, but hey, we will deal with that when we get to it!!)

“I did not think I would make it here”

I gained entry through a ballot – yeah take that London Marathon ballot deciders!! – a few months back and there have been times, particularly through December with Covid and January through injury that I did not think I would make it here (I flew out on Friday), but here I am and I am ready to race. I should also say that I had previously entered into the ballot for here and not got in, so it is nice to prove that it is possible. I do wonder, however, if the Covid situation has deterred international runners from applying, but who cares, I am in and I am here!

While Inverness was all about helping others, this race is very much for me and fundamentally I want to savour, to drink in, the whole experience of the day. That means I am not going to all out to try and nail a PB or anything like that. I am just going to do my best, be happy with the time whatever it is and make sure that I take full advantage and remember as much as I can about running in the city.

I am staying in Manhattan so went for an early run to get some of the jet lag out of my legs, and while it was cloudy and foggy, there are still many incredible sights you can pack into a 5km run down Broadway, up past a misty Empire State Building and then into Times Square.

The race begins in Brooklyn, and it starts early, which I prefer. The elite athletes go at 7am and my wave is due to go at around 7.50am. With the race starting in Brooklyn I need to get an early subway train to get across there, so I am not really trying to adjust to the jetlag. I need to be up between 4 and 5am anyway in order to get up, have something to eat and drink and then get across to Prospect Park in Brooklyn in order to have time to drop off my bag.

The race route

From Brooklyn, the route will take over the Manhattan Bridge, then up past the UN Building, along 42nd Street past Grand Central Station to Times Square before finishing in Central Park. Along with New Year’s Eve, this is the only other time during the year that Times Square is closed off to traffic, so that will be a very special part of the event. I have done quite a bit of research into the route, so I know it is hilly at the start, a steady climb over the bridge then a very flat section before being hilly again at the end. All of that is being factored in to my plan for the race.

I know there is some validity in not really knowing what a route is like beforehand – so you do not scare yourself too much about what it is going to be like – but I am happy to at least have an inkling of what lies ahead.

“I am a hobby runner”

For the day before the race, I need to go and collect my number at the race expo and really not try and walk too much. However, I have got plans to do a couple of things however, as coming to a city like New York and just sitting in my hotel room would be a total waste. (I have been fortunate to have been here before so I have done the main tourist things). The other thing is, of course, hey I am a hobby runner. Walking a bit too much today is not going to ruin my race in the way that it might for others.

The expo where I will collect my number

But the day before the race is also the time to make sure you are drinking a lot of fluids and eating a bit more than normal, so I am shortly about to head out for breakfast and have a pizza place lined up for a bit of carbo-loading this evening. I also have my usual pre-race routine worked out. Kit laid out, I know what I am eating and when, just trying to take as much stress out of the morning as possible, though with a train journey involved, I do not think I will relax until I get to my start coral.

I realise – though a lot of my friends seem very confused about this – that this is not the iconic New York Marathon. That takes place in November and the ballot, ironically enough, is open now. So if anyone fancies their chances, then why not try it out via this link. The race is being livestreamed on a local ABC channel in New York, starting at 11am UK time (the clocks have already changed in the US, so the time difference for the East Coast is only four hours right now) so if you want to see how world-class athletes like Galen Rupp and Tatyana McFadden do it then why not tune in?

I travel back home on Monday night, so very much a flying visit. I fully realise how fortunate I am just to be here and to be able to take part in a race like this. This is also the first time I have travelled to the United States in more than two years due the pandemic. A work trip to Phoenix was the last time i was here. I hope that this trip marks the start of a bit more normality, but marking it with an extraordinary event and a day to live long in the memory. Bring. It. On!!

Tears and triumphs

Running is a simple sport. It is simply putting one foot in front of the other. And doing that until you cross the finish line. So if it is so simple, why then does it stir such emotion?

I think the reality is that running really tests you. It brings out things in you which you did not know that you possessed. It shows you that you are capable of things you never imagined you could do. It demonstrates that, with training and determination, you can reach down deep inside yourself and draw on something special indeed.

“it is about who you are”

This is what is so special about distance running. It is not about pace. It is not about the clock. It is not about coming first. It is not about winning a prize. It is about proving things to yourself. It is about who you are. If it is anything, it is about you. And that is also why, when you face up to big challenges, emotions come to the fore.

I was privileged to run the Inverness Half Marathon on Sunday. Privileged simply by being able to be on the start line, having had Covid and been injured in recent months, and privileged to be running with friends from the JogScotland Bridge of Don club who were setting out to run their very first half marathon.

I had offered to pace around eleven minute miles, which would bring runners in at just under two hours and twenty five minutes, a really respectable time for a debut half. My first half, many years ago, was run in about that time. But for a first race, time is irrelevant. You are already guaranteed a personal best time, all you need to do is make sure you finish.

It is easy to sit down and say to yourself, “one day I am going to run x race” – whether it is a 10k, half, ultra or whatever. It is a step further to sign up for it. And then a longer stride to embark on the training programme to get you into shape to simply toe the line at the start. And then there is the race itself; the culmination of months of effort. The chance to prove that everything was worthwhile.

“how much it means to you”

And that is why, I think, it is so easy to become emotional about the achievement. I still well up when I think about certain times in certain races. This might seem irrational to others, but then, it is only you who knows how much of yourself you poured into an event, how much you sacrificed to get to the end, how much it means to you.

At the start of the race, there were a few of us gathered together to run at around the eleven minute mile pace, but as the opening miles unfolded and people felt good in those early stages, the group thinned out until there were five of us together. Shallene and Lesley, running their first, Allan, Lesley’s husband and Michelle, both of whom, like me, had run not just a half marathon before but had gone the full marathon distance. Before we had even started, Lesley was welling up, as the emotion of what we were about to go through hit home.

The course at Inverness starts off flat but then, from about mile two, is then an uphill climb until close to the halfway point. Most of it is quite steady, but there are some steep inclines to get through and it can be discouraging and challenging to endure. My role for this was just to keep things easy, it did not matter that we fell a little behind schedule through this part, as I knew there was a large downhill section to come from about nine to twelve miles where we could get back on target, or even slightly ahead.

The Inverness Half Marathon Route

Pacing is a combination of things I find. The first, obviously, is to try and stick to a regular pace, with not too much variation between the miles, though the terrain does play a part in that. A few seconds back uphill, a few seconds ahead on the downhill. The other role of pacing is to offer encouragement, to be that voice in the head of the runners to give them confidence, to make sure they retain faith in their ability and to trust that their training will get them through, even when they go beyond the furthest they have ever run.

“comfort is going to be hard to find”

In those early miles, where it all feels really easy, it is also crucial to make sure they do not go off too fast, so that they find it simple, they feel comfortable, because you know that later on, comfort is going to be hard to find. We stuck together pretty well through those climbs but at just beyond six miles Michelle urged me to push on with the others, as she was beginning to fall back. So then there were four.

Now it was a case of simply ticking off the miles, keeping the pace steady and relaxed, increasing it slightly as we got through the flat section of the course between six and nine miles. From there, the course ran downhill until about a mile from the finish. The conditions were almost ideal, cool, a little breeze, but no rain. We were going well.

As we started downhill, we picked up the pace a little more. We began to pass runners who had overtaken us earlier in the race. But while we were going quicker it was still not the time to push really hard. Going beyond ten miles may mean that there is only a parkrun to go, but it is very different doing a parkrun on a Saturday morning and then doing the same distance when you already have ten miles in your legs.

“We were down to two”

As we got beyond eleven miles, and a bit of encouragement from my wife, Fiona, who had come onto the course to give us a cheer, Allan and Lesley were feeling good so pushed on ahead. We were down to two from that initial group, just me and Shallene. We were now in unknown territory for her, further than she had even run before. While in those early miles there had been a lot of chatting going on, by the time you get to the business end of a race, there does not tend to be a lot talking going on. By this point,all I was doing was offering words of encouragement, pointing out how well she was running, how well we were doing. We were going to see this through.

She was doing unbelievably well, staying focused and maintaining pace. And then we got into the final mile. The last mile of any race is the toughest, and at Inverness the course winds its way along the riverside before turning and running up to finish inside an athletics stadium. To be frank, this bit is torture. The end never seems to be coming, the route to get into the stadium is circuitous and a bit soul destroying. And then you get onto the track.

“she was giving it everything”

By now we could see the finish line on the other side of the track. We were so close. As we came down the back straight we looked across and saw Allan and Lesley finish. I told Shallene, “less than two minutes to run”. We sped up. As we got to the final bend, we were cheered on by our clubmates who were there to support. This boosted us further. We sped up again. By now, despite how tired Shallene felt, she was giving it everything to get to the line. This is what guts is. This is why you put in the months of training. This is why it matters so much.

And we crossed the line. And the emotion flooded out of her. While Lesley had had tears at the start, Shallene’s tears came at the end. It is not just relief, relief that the pain is over, relief that you have no more to run. It is every emotion under the sun. It is pride. It is joy. It is an immense sense of satisfaction. It is that sense of, “oh my goodness, I actually just ran a half marathon.” It is the realisation of the scale of the achievement. It is awesome.

That bit of bling that means so much!!

As we got our medals and collected our t-shirts, then got a drink and something to eat, we met up with Allan and Lesley then many of our other clubmates who had also finished. There is such a sense of camaraderie in these moments, that collective feeling of achievement, of achieving things together, as a group but also as individuals. It is a special spirit that is for sure. Shallene met up with her husband, Alan, who had also run his first ever half marathon race. What an amazing accomplishment for both of them!

Lesley, myself, Shallene and Allan at the finish line

And for me? What do I get out of it? Well I got the same medal and t-shirt that everybody else did, and I got to enjoy an amazing experience with some great people. I think we all know the word, Schadenfreude, which is reveling in the misery of others. There is no direct opposite to that German word, but there is mudita, with origins from Buddhism and the Sanskrit language, to mean finding joy in the pleasure or success of other people. That is what I got out of it. I walked away knowing I had played a small part in helping others succeed.

But I only played a part. I did not run the race for them. I did not do the training for them. The success is theirs to enjoy and to celebrate. Because it was their efforts which got them there, not mine.

It was an amazing day for our club. So many of our runners achieved PBs – I was not the only one pacing others round so our other pacers also deserve enormous credit for all of their work – and others again proved to themselves that when the challenge of a half marathon comes calling then they can overcome it with confidence.

For me it is on to the next challenge, and one that I am taking on solo. This weekend I am running the half marathon in New York. The question I need to answer now is, “which pacer am I going to follow round the streets of the Big Apple”.

Race Ready

The week before a race is where you enter a time warp. A strange period where the days seem to drag. Clocks seem to tick ever slower. The weather forecast suddenly becomes all consuming. It is a strange reminder of being seven and waiting for Christmas. It never comes quick enough.

But the wait is almost over and those of us heading to Inverness for the half marathon on Sunday can look forward to joining a record field of three thousand four hundred other runners at the start line.

A half marathon is a serious undertaking. Just the training alone is such a considerable step up from 5k or 10k which many will have done before. And to embark on that journey through the winter also takes a special kind of determination and willpower to not just sign up to, but to stick to it through the worst of the winter weather and the darkest of the mornings and evenings.

“time to reflect”

Now as the days get longer and the mornings and evenings brighten up, the race will represent the culmination of all of that effort, with everything tied up in the thirteen point one mile course. But it is also the time to reflect on the training effort and to recognise that, while the race is, of course, the ultimate reward, it is simply the completion of many weeks of effort. Yes the race is thirteen point one miles, but a half marathon is the scores of miles, the hundreds of miles, you put in to get you there in the first place.

The other thing I would hope is that, while for some, the half marathon may well be their ultimate ambition, and having achieved it they are satisfied, for others there may be the desire to carry on. Either to try more half marathons in their future and perhaps improve their time, or to move up to the full marathon distance. I should also point out, that when I ran my first half marathon, the prospect of turning round and running back scared me so much, it took me fifteen years to get round to running my first marathon. Word of advice? Do not leave it that long….

“keep doing what you have been doing”

So what to do in these agonising final days before the race? As I said in last week’s blog now is not the time to panic, to suddenly try something new or to throw out all of the good habits that you have learned over the previous weeks of training. Now is the time just to keep doing what you have been doing, try and relax, and get some decent sleep. You may not think you are going to sleep well the night before, so at least try and sleep well the night before that!

I watched a documentary about the Olympic gold medalist cyclist Christ Hoy and he described preparing for an event. “If you do not need to stand up, sit down. If you do not need to sit down, lie down”. Sound words from one who knows about taking it easy and resting your body before the big effort ahead.

One bit of advice I got a few years back was round eating and drinking. In advance of a long distance race – half or full marathon – I would begin eating and, more importantly, drinking a bit more a couple of days before the race. Good hydration is not just about drinking on the day or during the race, it is also about being fully hydrated the days before.

“keep topped up”

Now this might mean that you are heading to the loo a bit more than normal, but it is just about making sure you keep topped up. Do not drink too much – just a bit more than normal. Then on the day itself, I try not to drink anything from two hours before the start of the race. The last thing you want is to have to stop to go to the loo when you are chasing to get a time!!

I would also make sure to lay everything out the night before. To be honest, I have already got everything laid out!! My running kit, drink sachet, water bottle, gel, vaseline, shoes, energy bar for before and after the race, bib number, magnets to attach it (or safety pins), cap. Just whatever you are going to take, get it sorted out the night before. The day itself can be stressful enough, without the need to make things worse by rushing around trying to find your favourite pair of socks!

Wise words

It also goes without saying, do not go crazy at the start. It is so easy to get swept along in the excitement and bang in a few early miles at a pace way too fast for you. I know. I’ve done it! Much better to build into the race. A great target is to run the second half quicker than the first and just breeze through the opening miles.

The other thing is to concentrate on things you can control and not get too bothered about things which you cannot. Like the weather, for example. It can be very tempting to spend all your time refreshing your weather app to check for any change in wind direction or wind speed or if it is going to rain, or snow, or hail, or is it going to be too hot, or too cold. The weather on the day is going to be the weather on the day and there is nothing any of us can do about it. Just make sure your kit takes it into consideration.

“lack of focus”

I feel strangely subdued about heading for Inverness. It is not that I am not looking forward to the event, running with my clubmates and getting that all important bling at the end, I think it is more a reflection of the way my training has gone and a bit of lack of focus I have felt since being injured in January.

I think it is also that my main focus is, to be frank, on my race in New York the week after. I am sure I will thoroughly enjoy Inverness, but I definitely do not feel the same level of excitement or anticipation that I have felt before previous events. However, there will be no doubt that when we all head towards that start line, there will be a great sense of anticipation of what is ahead. For some that might seem like dread, with nerves and worries and anxieties all wrapped up together. But all of those feelings will be forgotten when we round that final corner and sprint across that finish line. Remember, it is finish lines, not finished times which count.

Here’s to a great event, and I am certainly very thankful, after what has happened over the last two years and is currently going on in other parts of the world, that we are able to run together once more. Go the distance.

Waiting

There is one week to go before my first race of the year. Amazingly, this will be my first race in Scotland in two years and ironically, I am returning to the place where that last race was held.

The Inverness Half Marathon at the start of March 2020 was the last time I lined up at the start here in Scotland. Both of my races last year were in England and, of course, there have been far fewer races in general during this time.

So this week has brought back lots of memories of that day, but also of the week before. The weekend before Inverness I was in Paris to run the half marathon there. This is now what I refer to as the race that never was. After traveling to Paris and picking up my race number, the event was cancelled the afternoon before it was due to take place as Covid numbers in the Paris region grew.

I ran a half with friends Jan, David and Rob anyway on the Sunday morning round the sights of Paris and this remains one of my favourite running pictures.

Jan, David, Rob and me at the Eiffel Tower

But this picture also makes me sad. I have not seen Jan or David in person since (Rob and I have met and we ran the Liverpool Half last year) and I have not been back to Paris either. We are luckily all still fit and healthy but it is a harsh reminder of all the things we have missed. The Paris half marathon takes place this weekend and Jan will be running. We will all be with him in spirit.

Returning to Inverness I am going into this race with very different expectations from where I was a couple of years ago. For both Paris and Inverness I was aiming for around two hours. This time around I am aiming for closer to two hours and thirty minutes, but that is because my priorities have changed.

I have written before about how I have achieved more than I ever thought I could with running – the races, the distances, the times – and so my focus now is much more about just enjoying events and, if I can, helping others achieve times or distances which they have never achieved before. So I am going into Inverness aiming to run at eleven minute mile pace, whch will be just under two and half hours. Having paced friends at races previously, it is something I have hugely enjoyed and I hope Inverness will be the same and that some people from the JogScotland group will take up the offer . It is a nice course and lovely finish along the riverside and then into an athletics stadium to cross the line on the track.

Always exciting to get a race number in the post

But the other thing with a week to go before a race, is that this can also be the time when you go a bit bonkers – maranoia being the technical term for that period before the race when you suddenly begin to lose your mind.

As you are not running as much as you have been previously due to tapering down in readiness for the race, you can begin to consider lots of other options. Should I buy new shoes? Should I get a new top or shorts to wear? Should I start carbo loading early? Do I need to run a bit quicker than I have been doing? I know my plan says to taper but maybe I will go for a long run anyway? What is that twinge I feel in my knee, ankle, hip (enter any body part here)? Why do I have a sniffle, a cough, and so on.

“go crazy”

And then on the day itself of course, there is also the temptation to get swept along with the atmosphere at the start and go crazy and set off at a rapid pace that you cannot maintain later on. Those early miles just drift by as you are going into them in a super fit stage, but any race is a long way and while all miles measure the same, trust me, not all miles are the same distance when it comes to the end of the race.

So now is the time to just relax and trust your training. If you have followed a programme, you should be aware that there is a science behind it. There is a reason why you have been slowly building up the time and the distance throughout this period and now is the time to give your body a bit of a rest before the final big push.

Now is also not the time to suddenly change things. The training programme has been working. Do not doubt it at the last minute. You have likely been wearing the trainers you are going to wear, the outfit you are going to wear, have practised what you are going to eat, have thought about what you are going to drink. Nothing new on race day is a good mantra to bear in mind.

“Keep things nice and light”

My own preparations have continued and have been ok. A couple of runs with my JogScotland group and then a final ten mile run to get ready. Having not run at all last weekend due to being away for a few days with my wife, it was nice to get that mileage under my belt. This week I will likely run a couple of times but probably keep things nice and light.

So far I had signed up to three races – Inverness, New York Half (next weekend) and another 10k – which are all in the Spring, but this week I signed up to a late autumn race. It is a new event, a half marathon in my home town on Falkirk. It looks like a great course taking in some fabulous sights and this will be a great target for me come November. I am also going to run it with my brother and that will be something we have not done together for a few years either.

Exciting to enter a new event

But Falkirk is a long way off. For now, the focus is on Inverness and having a safe and enjoyable event. It is going to be so nice to be back racing in Scotland once more.