The rest of 2010 - between marathons

[marathondan]

Running Free 10K, Dorney Lake

OK, enough already. Urban hill reps tonight, in the dark. No rain forecast, unfortunately.

The above rallying cry came to naught. A wave of apathy swept in, inspired by tedium at work, and I managed just a couple of short looseners in the time leading up to the race. So the taper started a bit early: probably not a problem.

Dorney Lake, 2012 Olympic rowing venue and home of Eton College rowing club, has become a mecca for triathletes, combining a mile of straight open water and an ultra-flat 5K oval of tarmac. Most of the events held here seem to be commercial enterprises, and the majority of the companies involved seem to originate from the tri or cycling sector. However, the circuit is also attractive for PB-hungry runners, and so, at least as an add-on, many of these companies have started offering 5K and 10K runs.

Unlike my last visit to the venue a couple of years ago, the organisation was smooth, although with only around 200 runners for the 5K and 10K races it wasn’t an enormous task. Somehow the pre-race feel is slightly different from the traditional club-run events. Or maybe I just have an innate fear of corporate logos.

I had around 5 minutes for a quick warmup jog – for any distance longer than 10K I feel this is a waste of energy – and comfortably necked half a litre of water, suggesting I might have been a little under-hydrated. The loo queues were mercifully short, and then it was time to strip to my singlet and head for the start line. Conditions were good: autumn had definitely arrived at last, the air was cool and with the odd drop of rain, the only problem being the stiff westerly wind which showed no sign of abating. On such an exposed course, that might not be too welcome.

I lined up around a quarter of the way from the front, and went off fairly sharpish from the hooter. After a couple of years of carefully considered marathon strategies, the 10K plan was refreshingly simple: start fast, and carry on until the finish.

We looped behind the boathouse and turned straight into the wind. OOF! – like running uphill. But I could immediately see that at least the wind was blowing the right way, and might even provide a psychological advantage: the first and third quarters would be run into the wind, the second and fourth with a tailwind. “This race is going to be won and lost in the third quarter” said the melodramatic imaginary athletics commentator in my head.

The pacing maths was pretty easy – for my target of 45 minutes, I needed 4:30 per km. I was pleased to see that I hit the first K some 15 secs ahead of schedule, despite the wind. I tried to find a steady rhythm and keep good form, and I was similarly ahead at 2K (which of course meant I’d run the second 2K slower). You can see the entire field throughout the race, and from the off it was clear that there was only going to be one winner – after half a lap he was probably already a minute ahead of the pack. I suspect that most quality club runners regard these more commercial events as second-class, and avoid them.

The turn away from the headwind was most welcome, and was made surreal by the presence of a jolly marshal in front of a hearse, apparently his personal transport. The race briefing had mentioned that there was an ambulance stationed at the far end of the lake, but I couldn’t see one. Maybe this was standing in for more serious medical cases.

The return straight was a difference run altogether. Without the cleansing head wind, the temperature was noticeably higher, and sweat ran freely into my eyes. I opted to regain some energy rather than try to get further ahead of myself, knowing that I would need to push hard through the difficult third quarter. At 5K I was still slightly ahead of target. I threw a cup of water approximately into my mouth, and we headed round the boathouse once more and into the wind.

Well, it was hard work, but I like to think I’ve learned a bit about keeping going over the last couple of years. For the first time I started to take account of my fellow runners, and engaged in the game of trying to hold off anyone who appeared at my shoulder. At 7K I was around 10 seconds behind schedule, but I knew that with the tailwind coming I had a good chance of making that up. I decided to let a couple of challengers pull ahead, and save a modicum of energy for the final push. I think it’s fair to say I’ve never been so glad to see a hearse.

Returning to the tailwind was a delight, but I still had work to do. By 8K I was back on schedule, and I knew there was a good chance that I was going to make my target. Regular readers may recall that I am obsessed with synchronising my breathing with my footfalls, and I now felt that I wasn’t getting enough oxygen to go any faster. So I upped my breathing pattern to 1/2, i.e. inhaling on one step and then exhaling over two steps. Effectively I waltzed the last 1.5K. Getting a full lungful of oxygen in one footstep requires quite a noisy gulp, and there were a few concerned glances over shoulders at the approach of this rasping, lumbering beast.

By 9K I knew I was safe, barring disasters, and so I just gave it all I had, finally stepping up to 1/1 breathing for the last 100m. I stopped my watch at 44:30, symbolically an even better time that I had been hoping for. (Although the official time adds 6 seconds for crossing line; we were wearing the “second class” timing chips which record the gun time rather than the nett time.) The winning time was 34:40, which I would say is slow for the course, confirming that the real whippets probably don’t both with these events. And yes, he was nearly 4 minutes clear of his nearest rival.

So, it seems the hill work did me a bit of good. It’s nice to reinforce that a bit of hard work can pay off, and this has also been a reminder of the fairly obvious truth that different distances require different styles of training. It’s also strengthened my view that entering events during the summer is a mug’s game; waiting till late September made this a much more enjoyable experience than my previous attempt at the distance in July last year. I’ll have to wait and see how my motivation levels are next summer, but doing some speed training in the summer evenings for an autumn 10K seems a nice counterpoint to an annual spring marathon.

Next: probably a couple of low-key months, then huzzah! for the marathon training from Christmas onwards.