Smile and say PAIN!

I feel like I want to throw up, as I am bent double and retching in the finishing funnel of the Middlesex 10k. The tight knotting in my stomach combined with the lack of air, makes me feel dizzy as I try to make my way down the funnel. Strewn around me are other exhausted runners, who I am guessing didn’t feel the need to be as sick as me. I always knew that September was going to be hard month of racing, and once I had understood the full implications of my torn hamstring; it was going to be a different sort of challenge. Whilst the way races went and the results haven’t gone how I would have planned or liked, I am still glad that I attempted this month of racing. If only for completing on the challenges that I set myself post-London Marathon, as well as the mental battles that I have found myself in.

Someone I ran with once said: “the distance of the race is not important, it’s how hard you choose to run it”. At the beginning of September I don’t necessarily know if I would have agreed with that statement. I may have cited the Buddhist monks who run to achieve enlightenment or Sri Chinmoy’s now (in)famous 3,100 mile race round a small square piece of land in New York for 60 days. Whilst I doubt that I will do anything as amazing or extreme as the examples shown above, I have come to learn the challenge of pushing myself at shorter distances than a half marathon. In some ways bringing more of a challenge for me than running a marathon. In short, and to potentially save you from having to read the rest of this post, racing shorter distances- when not fully fit- has tested me in more ways than I could imagine, but specifically and most acutely in my mental game.


I had naively hoped that after 3-4 weeks of build-up training that I would be able to pull something out of the bag (in terms of getting personal bests) during the three races that I ran over September. This was not to be the case, and it’s also where I learnt a lot about myself. This hasn’t just been an issue with my races, but also with my training.

Besides my Sunday long runs, every Tuesday and Thursday has become a titanic struggle in my head. I know that the workout will be hard and there may well be a chance that I won’t complete it. Indeed there have been many workouts so far, where I just didn’t have the speed and/ or endurance to complete the repetitions and had to adapt the session to get some sort of return from it. It would be fair to say that I learnt, and brutally I may add, the dictum: fail, fail again and then fail better the next time. So follows below my account of racing in September.

Ladywell 10,000 (1 September)

 I had a made one of my goals post-London marathon to race on the track during the Summer, and had recovered from my hamstring in time to make the daunting attempt of doing my first 10k on the track. Watching the grimaces of the athletes running in the previous races, filled me with a sense of foreboding. I felt tense and this general tightness in my body did not leave me as I found myself in the starting pen of the race. Instructions were given out, we lined up and time seemed to speed up. It was like everyone had set off to do 400m reps, or at least that’s how it felt to me. Not being able to train in a club in Bedford meant that my speed sessions were done on a treadmill, so it was a strange feeling to be on the track and it lot of way nostalgic; as it reminded me of my times on the track at Finsbury Park.

In hindsight I got far too caught up in placing myself in the race, when I could have settled into a 90 second per lap pace, rather than jostle with other runners about where I stood on the track. I had got sucked into thinking that I needed to race with other people, rather than focus on how I could run the race to the best of my ability. It certainly was an experience to race a track 10k, and in a lot of ways had parallels with running a marathon. There were periods over the 25 laps where my mind did not register that I was completing the laps, and time seemed to pass easily. There were also points were I seemed to struggle down the straights of each track, as people seem to move away and then come back. It became apparent as I went past half-way that I wasted energy jostling for positioning, when I could have bided my time. I knew the second half was going to be about clinging on.

One thing that certainly feels different to racing on the track compared to the road, is the intimacy of being overtaken. In a road someone can overtake you and be nowhere near you, whereas on the track it is right on your shoulder. I have to admit when being lapped or overtaken on the track that I let it get to me. The feeling of slowing down from lack of fitness, going too hard at the beginning as well as being lapped/ overtaken; led to what I would call a near-capitulation in running terms. My mind lured me into thinking that I didn’t need to put myself through this, I could just step off the track anytime I wanted. It only dawned on me how I tired I had become when I misread the lap counter to think that I was on the finishing straight and sprinted towards the line, only to realise that I had another 400m to go. What followed was a semi-comical back-of-the-pack race between myself and a runner I had just overtaken in the sprint finish, when he realised what I had done. Luckily I held off, but was not surprised that I was 16 seconds off my personal best.

It took me a while to find the positives to take away from the race; however there were a few to take such as I had still made a decent effort when not at full fitness, it was my first time at this distance and only my second track race. Also my mental attitude could have been improved, as allowed negative thoughts to enter my head when I got to about half way and that definitely had an impact towards the end of the race. I was determined to train hard for the Leighton Buzzard 10 and give a decent response to what had happened at Ladywell.

Leighton Buzzard 10 (LB10)

When I originally planned the LB10, I had seen it as an opportunity to push myself on a hilly, tough 10 mile course. Now I had reframed it opportunity to respond to what went on at Ladywell. Most of all I didn’t want to go out too hard and let myself get caught up in my head. I knew the course was going to be hard and had adjusted my paces accordingly. It was when I saw the route to finishing the final mile on, that a genuine feeling of sickness gathered in my stomach. Anyone who went out too hard at the beginning was going to be severely punished at the end of the course. Adding to this I managed to roll my left ankle just before starting that worried me slightly.

As the race began I knew my legs were not in great shape. I didn’t know if I had allowed my tired legs from training to make me think I was not up for this race. This wasn’t helped by the lead female and male going off hard from the start. After my experience from Ladywell I decided to hold back and see if I could pick people off. The course was mostly undulating and a sharp hill, that we went through twice. I did catch a number of runners, however there wasn’t the familiar gear shift in my race speed that I had come to find when preparing for London. I did hang on and keep going up that brutal hill. Finishing in a decent sixth place.

One thing was for sure, being strung out on my own and not being able to run at the pace I wanted, had again affected my attitude to the race in question. Whatever happened at Valencia I was going to need to know what to do if things went wrong; whether that be in the logistics in getting to the race and/ or when I am racing it. More mental work needed to be done.

On a more comical note, the race organisers at LB10 have provided free photographs of race participants. I have found quite a few of myself, but reckon there must be photos of me grimacing in odd ways. So a photographer somewhere in Aylesbury has some awkward looking photos of me running with a mask of pain across my face.

Middlesex 10k 

I arrived in a fairly positive mood to this race, as it was great to see my club mates at London Heathside and I knew what the physical response in my legs would be from all the training I had done. I set off feeling relatively confident, but then panicked when my Garmin said that I was only going at the same pace as I had been doing at LB10.

It completely flummoxed me, and it was when I completed my first mile that I realised I had gone out too fast. I was also in a pod of runners that was dragging me along at a pace I couldn’t sustain. I allowed myself to gradually drop back from them. Again I found myself strung out again, and starting to waver mentally.

I decided that this was going to be another tough day, however it was a chance to see if I could change how I felt about it. I used mantras to keep me going. This helped a lot and it was on the final lap that I realised I was being hunted by a pack, consisting of Heathsiders who I know were faster than me.

The wind had been an annoyance throughout the race, but now it felt like it was damn near blocking me from going anywhere. With the wind becoming a nuisance, I found myself being swallowed up by the chase pack. I decided it was now or never and that I would go down fighting. If this large pack wanted to overtake me, I was going to make them work for it. I pushed hard, and surprisingly drew away from the pack, only having one Heathsider after me. We ran together, but if truth be told I panicked and worried I might blow up near the end. He pushed on and I didn’t respond.I finished as I began this entry. Tired, sick and still with a lot to learn.

 Running can bring brilliant moments of joy and success, but it can also be immensely frustrating; with you scratching your head and wondering what’s going on. My belief is that it is in the moments where things are not going well, and you still turn up, are where the rewards are obtained. September has felt just like that. I am hoping I can take those moments from this month, to fuel a successful race at Peterborough.