Some time ago I booked a local 5 mile trail race round a beautiful, but private, estate less than 15 minutes’ walk from home. It’s quite small, run by a local running club and advertised as a friendly race in a beautiful setting. Seemed like a perfect treat after my first two half marathons: it would be a different challenge for me being an undulating route on mixed terrain, so I had no time target in mind just to enjoy it.
A couple of weeks ago I started looking at the route, elevation, terrain etc. I looked at photos from last year and to my horror saw at least three mums I knew but am no longer in contact with. I thought I’d moved on from running in quiet places, out of public gaze; I thought completing 5k, 10k, 10 mile and HM events meant I could believe in myself and my running. But there I was, faced with three people who I think of as athletic, fit; if they choose to run, I consider them runners. Suddenly I felt a fraud all over again! I knew it was silly but I got more and more nervous. And so it came about that my target time was a rather strange sub 51 minutes (that being the slowest time of the three last year). It’s not that I’m competitive, it’s simply that I didn’t want to look as if I was a pretender to running. Bonkers! I didn’t post any of this last week because this was anxiety that didn’t deserve to be acknowledged.
During the Easter weekend I received an email from the race director ‘The grass is quite thick and long and the nettles are coming through in the first field between 1/2 mile and 1 mile. Please take care as it is also quite rutted and uneven with some hidden holes in places. Please be aware of tree roots in the wooded area.’ Crikey - injuries here we come?
Anyway, the day was beautiful (if a bit warm), a casual walk from home to collect my bib, a long queue for the loo (during which I spotted the fastest of the three aforementioned mums) and a short walk to the start line. I wriggled through the pack so I wouldn’t start at the very back and we were off before I knew it. Funny thing, the minute I start running, all nerves just disappear and a calm sets in.
It was very congested in this first rutted field – 2 lines of runners in the tractor wheel tracks, one behind another – a few times we slowed to a walk and there was nothing you could do about it. It was during this part of the course that my flipbelt bottle wriggled out of my belt. I pulled out of the line and ran back to get it but there was no chance! It was on the grass in the middle of the two lines of runners - who weren’t walking at this point – I’d have caused chaos if I’d dived in amongst all the feet to get it! So, I shrugged, turned and joined back in line. Seconds later a lovely gent tapped me on the back and asked if it was my bottle (number 433 in the photo, I'm hiding just behind him). Yay! No idea how he managed to pick it up, but I was very grateful. The rest of the run was uneventful; I ran the hills both up and down, I appreciated the views, I smiled for the cameras, I did my best in the last half mile despite it ending on the uphill and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Lovely medal, welcome bottle of water and a short walk home. When I finally got my chip time it was 50:26 – just 36 seconds slower than the mum I saw before the start (the fastest one of the three last year; turns out the other two didn’t run this year). I didn’t disgrace myself, I can hold my head up high. And next year I will do this run again, hopefully without the stupid, stupid feeling of being a fraud! I just have to laugh at myself.
Try it - am sure you will like it 
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Holiday running....
12 More Hours....
Beckley 10k Race Report
