First race
Yesterday was quite an important day for me - it was the day I took part in, and completed, my first competitive road race - the Pinewood 10k, at Bourton, just outside Swindon.
When you consider that about 18 months ago I would have struggled to run 10 minutes on a treadmill, this is no mean feat. I gradually built up the distance and time I can run over the course of roughly a year, and in May this year I started having training sessions with Anthony Davis, one of the personal trainers at my gym in West Swindon. He has been excellent - he sets realistic and achievable goals, offers sage advice and whilst he demands 100% commitment and effort - and rightly so - is fun to train with.
Whilst I have run up to 10 miles in training, yesterday's event was daunting, to say the least. I met Anthony, Gary and Dave (two of his other clients) at the gym and we made our way to the race venue. On the way I was struck by the number of cars heading to the venue - I didn't realise running would be this popular. As we limbered up I noticed people of all different shapes and sizes, ages, male and female. I can only assume they also come from varying walks of life, such is the universal appeal of running.
Soon enough the start time arrived and we all made our way to the line. Anthony, an elite athlete, made sure he was at the front. I sort of moseyed to the middle of the crowd, as that was where I anticipated finishing. The horn sounded and we were off. As I set off I tried to remember all the things I had learnt over the last few months - stay in control of your breathing, stay upright, knees up etc.
For the first half of the race, however, it seemed that all my hard work and preparation could be in vain, at least as far as this race was concerned. I experienced something I had not felt in training - shin splints. It was agony. I wasn't so much running as hobbling round. I stopped and tried to massage them but to no avail. In the end the only thing that kept me going was that I was damned if I was going to end up telling people I had to pull out. Not on my first race.
Thankfully, the pain eventually subsided and after about 6km I started to feel good again. At this point a kind lady proffered me a glass of water, which proved very welcome. After 8km I started to up the ante and managed to pick off a few people who had previously overtaken me. With 9km I tried to pick up the pace a bit more and with 400m to go I started sprinting for the line. Anthony was there to cheer me on and make sure I used up whatever I had left in the tank. As I passed the finishing post I noticed I had finished in 58 minutes 7 seconds. So despite the pain I had achieved my goal of finishing in less than an hour.
To quote my father, who once wrote the following about me in my school report as a riposte to a low grade from my PE teacher: "He's no Seb Coe but he does try!"
As I watched the remaining runners pass the finishing line I made a point of picking out an older gentleman who I had noticed struggling in the final stretch and shaking his hand. I regard running as a long-term project - and if I'm still going at his age, I'll be very happy.
And so home - as I say, Anthony offers sound advice and a few days before the race he told me to put some of my favourite beer in the fridge to look forward to when the going gets tough during the race. I needed no reminding of this and after a soak in the bath settled back with a few ales and enjoyed another tantalising afternoon's cricket. It had been a great day.
When you consider that about 18 months ago I would have struggled to run 10 minutes on a treadmill, this is no mean feat. I gradually built up the distance and time I can run over the course of roughly a year, and in May this year I started having training sessions with Anthony Davis, one of the personal trainers at my gym in West Swindon. He has been excellent - he sets realistic and achievable goals, offers sage advice and whilst he demands 100% commitment and effort - and rightly so - is fun to train with.
Whilst I have run up to 10 miles in training, yesterday's event was daunting, to say the least. I met Anthony, Gary and Dave (two of his other clients) at the gym and we made our way to the race venue. On the way I was struck by the number of cars heading to the venue - I didn't realise running would be this popular. As we limbered up I noticed people of all different shapes and sizes, ages, male and female. I can only assume they also come from varying walks of life, such is the universal appeal of running.
Soon enough the start time arrived and we all made our way to the line. Anthony, an elite athlete, made sure he was at the front. I sort of moseyed to the middle of the crowd, as that was where I anticipated finishing. The horn sounded and we were off. As I set off I tried to remember all the things I had learnt over the last few months - stay in control of your breathing, stay upright, knees up etc.
For the first half of the race, however, it seemed that all my hard work and preparation could be in vain, at least as far as this race was concerned. I experienced something I had not felt in training - shin splints. It was agony. I wasn't so much running as hobbling round. I stopped and tried to massage them but to no avail. In the end the only thing that kept me going was that I was damned if I was going to end up telling people I had to pull out. Not on my first race.
Thankfully, the pain eventually subsided and after about 6km I started to feel good again. At this point a kind lady proffered me a glass of water, which proved very welcome. After 8km I started to up the ante and managed to pick off a few people who had previously overtaken me. With 9km I tried to pick up the pace a bit more and with 400m to go I started sprinting for the line. Anthony was there to cheer me on and make sure I used up whatever I had left in the tank. As I passed the finishing post I noticed I had finished in 58 minutes 7 seconds. So despite the pain I had achieved my goal of finishing in less than an hour.
To quote my father, who once wrote the following about me in my school report as a riposte to a low grade from my PE teacher: "He's no Seb Coe but he does try!"
As I watched the remaining runners pass the finishing line I made a point of picking out an older gentleman who I had noticed struggling in the final stretch and shaking his hand. I regard running as a long-term project - and if I'm still going at his age, I'll be very happy.
And so home - as I say, Anthony offers sound advice and a few days before the race he told me to put some of my favourite beer in the fridge to look forward to when the going gets tough during the race. I needed no reminding of this and after a soak in the bath settled back with a few ales and enjoyed another tantalising afternoon's cricket. It had been a great day.
posted by Jon | 10:37 am
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