Just a short run this. But after a series of 10k I wanted to let loose and enjoy some shorter, fast running for a bit. In the training beforehand, to begin with, it was glorious flying down the roads, pushing myself to the limit.
It quickly became quite onerous though, getting up and putting myself through a hard workout each time. The initial fun of letting loose subsided and I soon started to miss those longer, almost lazy runs as I pushed myself, puffing through the now darker, colder streets.
Nevertheless, the training was over and the day had arrived. Today was to be my last race of 2018. Until the text from my brother-in-law that was, who asked if I would take his place next week at the Brighton 10k as he would now be away with work. Oh well looks like another run report to come next week then.
However, on with today's event. I woke up to storms. Wind and heavy rain. What shall I wear I thought, possibly for the first time in my life. Never questioning whether I should cancel. What's a little (or a lot) rain over 5k. Fortunately the running Gods were smiling and the weather improved.
I arrived at the lovely art deco De La Warr Pavilion, among the bustle of runners getting their tags, numbers and final loo stops in. There were to be three main runs today, 5k, 10k and a HM (plus a couple of races for the kids). With the 5k being first most were there for this event. We were mostly huddled in the De La Warr as outside it was still cold and blustery.
I often wonder in these minutes before the race starts, what brings all of these people here to run. I see groups of people in matching shirts running with a group, or those with names of loved ones running for a cause. Many look as though this is a commonplace event for them, journeymen going from race to race in the pursuit of... who knows what. There are those that look as though for them this is a one off - a challenge set, to be conquered and; medal secured, never to be repeated. I make these observations as I stand and watch. I wonder if I am often wrong, or always wrong. I don't run socially. For me it is a solo challenge. I start to wonder why I run at all...
In no time at all we are lined up and the klaxon starts us on our way. It is a slow beginning. I started too far back, and need to dodge and weave. I break through into a bit of space and check my phone but strava is doing one of those sectional splits rather than telling me my pace. How do I cancel it again. Not to worry I can feel my pace and it feels good. The people close by look like my pace (what does that even mean!). I check the phone again and strava has gone on to another sectional split. I push an icon in desperation and it works. My pace is fast. Rein it back a bit.
We are on the promenade now, exposed to all that the English channel is offering today. Strong wind and a path full of windswept shingles. By the halfway point I am puffing and my pace drops. Shortly after we turn up a hill onto the main road. The road climbs steadily, not steeply, but my earlier exersions lead me to drop my pace again.
Soon, though it felt longer the road flattens and the slope start to turn downhill. My body is asking me to stop. I slow again. I get overtaken. For the next half a mile I get overtaken another two times. I am past caring, time to just hang on and get to the end.
The end comes thankfully quite quickly, the last 400 metres or so has had my in a fight with my phone which has decided to keep turning the volume back down of its own accord. Into the end tent and due to the longer runs later there is a plethora of beverages and snack on offer for the tired runner. Nice medal to, though slightly embarrassing to be so easily gained when compared to the medals earnt by those brave few in whose name we ran today.
So lesson learnt: work on your pacing Whatsapp.
Why do I run? Well I need to improve my 5k pacing for a start; then there's that 10k in Brighton to prepare for next weekend; oh, and the Eastbourne HM I want to do in March next year...