The race at Tewkesbury went pretty well yesterday. Check out my splits:
Mile 1: 5:44 (stupid, stupid, stupid!)
Mile 2: 6:17
Mile 3: 6:17
Mile 4: 6:01
Mile 5: 6:06
Mile 6: 6:21
Mile 7: 6:31
Mile 8: 6:29
Mile 9: 6:05
Mile 10: 5:37
Mile 11: 7:08
Mile 12: 5:28
Mile 13: 6:12
Last little bit: 0:33
My aims and strategies were a little different to those at Llanelli. I felt I was fitter, faster, lighter and stronger, and the weather was great yesterday so I aimed to run harder from the first few miles. No wind and a long drag or two on the course with no major hills meant I thought I could beat my previous best time by almost 3 minutes, and I wanted to race for a top 10 position. I didn’t think it would be likely that I’d achieve that, but I wanted to race for it.
I saw another Cardiff Tri vest at the end of my warm up and found James Nunn was racing, and aiming for the same time as me. How’s that for company?
The starter had a little trouble with his hooter (fnar, fnar), but we all started at the end of his countdown without him. There was a little down slope at the start of the run through Tewkesbury but I ran that first mile stupidly, stupidly fast. I was trying to balance the idea of running hard with managing a sensible RPE (rating of perceived exertion) but a 5:44 is unforgivable. I’m going to have to start flagellating myself if I do that again. I eased up over the next 2 miles to limit the damage, and then brought the pace back to about the right level. Nunney was well ahead with a number of runners between us by now.
The twisty, quiet roads avoiding the main road were pretty nice, and we were all straightening out the corners and running through the whole road in a very satisfying manner. The few cars that were around were very kind to us. Around the army storage depot and onto the country lanes out towards Kemerton were draggy. There was a subtle incline over a mile or so (mile 6) that I’d not noticed on the maps before we hit the main drag. We didn’t gain much elevation but it was a long way up to the village and it allowed me to pick up a couple of places. It was hard but I probably got my effort level almost spot-on up there, gaining ground and maintaining a 6:30 pace. I was getting closer to James, and he had a couple of looks back.
Through Kemerton and dropping down through Bredon was a key part of the race. Pushing the pace downhill meant I picked up another 2 or 3 places before passing under the motorway at mile 10, where everyone’s mindset starts to change (10 done, running to the finish now). The drag up from the underpass just went on, and on, and on. I was expecting a little rise and then a run down into Tewkesbury but it was never-ending. Looking at my times I wonder if the mile markers were in the right place, because the mile with that drag in it took over 7 minutes.
I caught Nunney on the drag. I’d had a bit of a mental battle as to what to do. I was really hurting, and had been hurting all the way. The thought of a sprint or a battle in the last few miles horrified the part of my brain that was already unhappy with what I was doing to my legs. “Just run the pace, and shut up, brain”. So when I caught James I gave him a thumbs up and tried to encourage him to stick to my shoulder and keep the pace up. He was breathing hard, but I really wasn’t enjoying that drag much either. When we hit the mile 11 marker and I saw the time I yelped, and those old racing instincts took over again. I pushed, and James stayed. I eased. I pushed, and James stayed. I eased. Repeat. My brain seemed to be happier with this and stopped complaining. Weird, huh? I pushed, and James shouted a cheery goodbye, wishing me the best and I finished off that damned drag. You can see from the graphs below that the drag continued mucking us about until halfway through mile 12.
I charged back down the hill into Tewkesbury worrying only about the runners ahead that I could see, and catch, and I’m really impressed with my last 2 miles. I’d planned the pace for this race half expecting to flameout at around mile 10 or 11. You can see that my heart rate was above 90% of maximum for the entire race, and it rose for those last 2 miles. Those miles were painful, but I took at least one more place from a less fortunate runner from Clevedon that was fading. Trying to maintain decent form (“it’s what you’re left with when you’re buggered” – Gordo Byrn) my race face was gone, with some masque of pain in it’s place.
I was so happy to see the 13 mile marker. 33 seconds later the finish line gave me a new PB of 1:20:51 and 9th place. James came in just a handful of seconds behind for 11th and 1:20:58. Not bad for a couple of triathletes in a running race, eh? After congratulations amidst choking back vomit Kim found me and took me to collapse and rehydrate with some good friends from Cheltenham that had come to see the race.
Great race, good course, awesome weather, wonderful results. Check out the data below and a few snaps on Flickr. I think I’m going to leave the 1:20 barrier until 2010.
