Seriously:
I won’t ponder too long over VLM. The easiest option for you as well as me is
to include my answer to Littl’Un’s teacher when she asked him what my time had
been. I could have answered either “ 3:13’05” ” or “I didn’t particularly enjoy
it”, but, being me, I felt compelled to give it some context. So here’s the
note I asked Daniel to hand over:
(Daniel’s teacher is
a runner. She ran The Bath Half in March in a decent time, although without
finishing 17th as Daniel repeatedly told us. When I eventually asked
him why he thought she had, he remarked that the shirt she’d worn to school
read: “Bath Half 17 Finisher”. Can’t fault the lad’s logic…
…oh: and, upon
starting up the UK arm of a Dutch company in 2000, we were all given
personalised notepads. Thanks to my small handwriting, I’ve still got plenty of
sheets left. I’m from Yorkshire – I don’t go around wasting paper and ink…)
I
don’t regret my time on the results
page. Well, not unduly. It’s my time at VLM on the whole, especially during
the run, that is my big regret. I just didn’t enjoy it as much as I wish I had.
Maybe I should not have tried to play it cool and should have embraced the
whole experience in its magnitude, from the Expo onwards. I certainly regret
not joining Duncan and Mike when they headed out to eat the night before, just
because I’d brought my own. So what?!? I went out to eat the night before
Rotterdam and that didn’t do any harm…
…in
my mind, leading up to the weekend, they were going to struggle to find
anywhere to eat, whereas they walked into an Italian restaurant on the hotel
doorstep and had no problem making a 6:30pm reservation. But I’d brought my own
fusilli from home and wasn’t going to change my plans. No, that would have been
too sensible…
…given
that, upon returning home on the Sunday, I polished off the cold leftover pasta
from the pan, it’s not as if they couldn’t have made the return journey!
Anyway:
enough of that. VLM was a week and a half ago, and my Rotterdam
experience is now almost a month old. Since then, my mind’s switched to my
next race, which is a mere thirty-nine days away. One over terrain I’ve never
covered, whereas I’d run along the Embankment on trips to London (and faster
than I managed at VLM!); one over a distance that I’ve only ever experienced at
last year’s Thunder
Run,
a 24-hour race consisting of 10k loops whereby I never left my comfort zone, in
so much that I was always within a couple of miles away from my tent. Whereas,
cometh June 10, I’ll be leaving Winchester with a view to reaching Eastbourne –
all of…
…a
hundred miles away.
. . .
My
‘A’ goal for 2017 was always Rotterdam, and I couldn’t be more delighted with
how it went: before, during, after. VLM was a nice add-on, albeit ultimately a
disappointing one. As for The South
Downs 100…
I
claimed my place on the waiting list last December, having previously eyed up The Classic
Quarter for the same weekend. Since then, the organisers had repeatedly
reassured me that past experiences suggested enough people were likely to pull
out for me to be offered a starting place. But that upgrade from waiting list
to starting list only materialised on April 10, exactly two months before the
race. Which meant it never interfered with my training for Rotterdam: having
run that on the Sunday, I was notified of a place in SDW100 on the Monday, reading
the e-mail just a few steps from our front door having headed back from the
massage that revealed I’d run a marathon PB with a calf tear. Upon walking
through the door phone, I kept my promise to myself and order a celebratory
Indian takeaway. It took some effort to complete the form on my smartphone within
the 20’ window granted – and, more importantly, before the food was delivered!
The
flipside of entering a 100-miler just sixty-two days before the event, of
course, being that it means I’ve only got a month to switch gears from marathon
running to ultrarunning. From sub-7’ miling to “let’s just get there” miling. Mentally,
that’s not a problem: as I always say, I’m not a parkrunner nor a mararunner
nor an ultrarunner: I’m a runner who’ll run owt. And the 95 miles of the West
Highland Way Race and last year’s Thunder Run should stand my mind in good
stead. Nevertheless, I remember very well the training that went into those two
races: and I’m now having to cram it into a month before a fortnight’s taper…
cram what I can, anyway!
Truth
be told, the mileage leading up to Thunder Run was unspectacular, with just the
one set of 50k (31mi) back-to-backs. Preparation for the West Highland Way Race
was somewhat more meticulous, with four sets of back-to-backs, gradually
building up from 20s to 26.2s to 31s to 40s. However, whilst I care little for
placings, I was fourth solo male in last year’s solo Thunder Run – so the fitness
with which I tackled the event and the training that led up to it can’t have
been that bad…
I
have the base fitness to make the step up. I have only second-hand accounts
(and Strava records) of the route’s terrain (chalky trail) and its elevation
profile. Which, at 12,700ft, means the climbs total a mere 2,000ft fewer than
along the West Highland Way – and spreading them out over an extra five miles
is not going to make that huge a difference. But, whereas Scotland offered major, iconic (and
Conic) climbs interspersed with flattish sections, England’s South
Downs appear to have in store for me relentless undulation. Furthermore, whilst
the West Highland Way features some highly technical sections (one word:
Lochside), from what I’ve seen and read the South Downs Way terrain isn’t as
treacherous. Least it shouldn’t be if this dry weather holds up.
. . .
Amongst
the many questions, one certainty: SDW100 will be the last event I truly race in
2017. Two weeks before it, I’m running Liverpool Marathon as part of
Mike and Sarah’s pre-wedding celebrations: I don’t know what fancy dress it
will entail but there will be some, although I suspect it won’t be
significantly gait-impacting, not least since Mike’s looking for the group of
us to still manage sub-4. Two weeks after SDW100 I’ll be back up for Round Sheffield Run, which I’m
viewing as a 15-mi social run with fellow runnerblades. I suspect I’ll
end up signing up for the Bristol Half
Marathon, but, right now, I have no reason to do so other than it “being
there”: it wouldn’t be a PB attempt, and I guess what I’d like to do would be
to pace someone to sub-90 there. Just like I’m already looking forward to
pacing Ian to sub-4hrs at Chester Marathon on
October 8. Finally, similarly to the Bristol HM, I suspect I’ll sign up for the
Weston Christmas Cracker
10k on December 10, even though that’s definitely one I won’t race: I’ve
retired from 10ks and only do this one to kick off the holiday season with the
post-race mince pie. But, equally, I could run 10k around Portishead and have a
mince pie as I walk through the door…
…at
the start of 2017, I had three key races: Bath Half, Rotterdam Marathon and,
subject to getting into it, South Downs Way 100. I PB’d in Bath*. I PB’d in
Rotterdam: now to PB next month. Which, as long as I finish, I will do. Oh, the
joy of running a distance for the first time!
. . .
But
let’s not take finishing for granted, ever: least of all over a hundred miles. Till
then, let’s see what the next few weeks hold in store. Sadly, it won’t be
parkruns: this Saturday Karen’s heading out of the door at 09:00 and I really
ought to be home before she does so, what with The Boys being nine and seven,
and the likelihood of me incorporating parkruns into long runs is low. But any
speedwork (which is one of the things that parkrun represents for me) is now on
hold. From here to Eastborune, it’s about hills and miles, miles and hills, hills
and miles, miles and hills, hills and… and…
…smiles.
* sorry - that doesn't quite sound right, does it?
