April

[marathondan]

While our heroes were far from down and out in Paris and Zurich, I was plotting a rather shorter course much closer to home. My second ever half marathon, the first being the same event last year. At that time, looking back at my diary, I’d done 12.5, 10, 15 and 16 miles on the previous four Sundays, and had averaged 16.3 miles per week for the three months up to the race. The result: a 1:39 which far exceeded my expectations (self-congratulatory report here) and paved the way for a successful London marathon. This year, I’d managed a 10K race and 7.5 and 9 mile runs, with a three month average of 5.6 miles per week. So I rated my chances as 1:50 at best, and was really looking for anything under 2 hours.

The train times were inconvenient, so I found myself leaving the house three hours before the start of a race only 20 miles away – rather frustrating. One train and one shuttle bus journey later and I was at the race site at 8 am. The sky was cloudless, and I settled down in a sunny corner of the car park with the Sunday Times, considering whether to change from t-shirt to vest.

The organisation was much better than last year. Having the start and finish in the same location makes much more sense – not least because the baggage doesn’t have to be shifted. The out-of-town start was much more spacious, there were loos down at the line, and we were away bang on 10am. By that time the sky had clouded over, and I was glad of my bin liner - and the surprising amount of body heat from my fellow runners.

The course starts down to the south of the town at the football ground, heads up through the university (a few fresh-faced student supporters here, at a time when most should be sleeping off hangovers, with quaint banners like "Go Meteorologists!"), wends its way through the shopping district, then takes up one carriageway of the A33 back down to the Madejski stadium. So there are some well-supported stretches and some barely-supported stretches. There was a pretty decent turnout in the town centre, the A33 stretch wasn’t as bleak as I remember from last year, and of course the grandstand finish in the stadium was packed. Overall, there was enough atmosphere to raise a few smiles among the runners, although nothing like the carnival that can be seen at the major marathons.

As for my race, I had little idea what to expect, given my lack of training. I optimistically lined up around the 1:45 marker, because I do like a fairly fast start. I clocked the first mile just outside 8 minutes, so I thought I’d try and stick to that pace and see how things went. Over the next few miles I began to creep under 8 minutes, and all felt good so I just kept going.

By half way I was starting to feel my lack of training, but pushed on regardless. Around 8 miles I increased my workrate, stepping up from 3/3 breathing to 2/2, and began to count down the miles rather than up. Every mile post was still appearing below 8 minute miles, but the time at which I checked my watch was getting earlier each mile. Early on, I wouldn’t check the time till about 6 minutes (three quarters of a mile). By ten miles it was down to two minutes. I thought I’d just carry on as long as I could and then drop the pace, coming in very happily somewhere under 1:50.

The end game began as we left the town centre and headed down the A33. Since last year the finish has gained an even bigger landmark than the Madejski stadium – a massive wind turbine, which can be seen from about mile 10 – and that gave me a definite psychological boost. At mile 11, I was still under 8 minute miling, and it occurred to me that I really could beat 1:45. At last the inevitable drop in pace came, and I crossed 12 miles bang on 8 minute pace, at 1:36. So it was a simple matter of 1.1 miles in less than 9 minutes.

The final drag started with an unpromising uphill, but we were soon only a few bends away from the stadium. There were clearly a few race-buddy partnerships going on here, as I was seemingly surrounded by shouts like "Don’t give up on me now, Dave!" As we met the finishers exiting the stadium there was the eerie rustle of a thousand space blankets in the wind, then it was round the back of this mighty castle and down the ramp to face the noisy, if not quite roaring, crowd. Going down that ramp is absolutely fantastic; anyone who’s ever watched an Olympic marathon on telly must surely be reminded of it.

So with the announcer burbling away in the background I put my foot to the floor, hit the 1/1 breathing, burned off and was burned off in fairly equal measure, and stopped my watch at 1:44:20 – bloody great, and far better than I could have expected. Where a minute before I had been surrounded by pain and struggle, there was now a collective feeling of relief, and I strolled with my smiling comrades to the exit, soaking up the stadium atmosphere while it lasted.

A few other things that made me smile:

• Two excellent bands along the route, one of which (with the start now near the finish) we got twice
  
• A van from some kind of mission organisation parked alongside the route, bearing the message of Matthew 11:28
  
• Lone supporters, presumably waiting for their supportee, patiently clapping and calling encouragement to all and sundry
  
• Family groups of supporters, equipped with tambourines, saucepans and toy drums
  
• One barefoot runner – a bloke who didn’t look that much of a serious runner, although you never can tell… (and actually I can’t remember if I overtook him or not)
  
• Overtaking John Madejski, and surfing his wave of applause
  
• Seeing Mick & Phil
  
• A couple of rhinos at the start
  
• Being overtaken by a couple of CRY hearts – way to go, guys
  
• A family who’d set up a simple table to give out orange segments, with a stereo playing Eye of the Tiger
  
• As is now traditional, spotting a ladies super-vet from Reading Roadrunners (Reading’s second best club, I understand from Andy) – although she didn’t give me as much trouble as my nemesis at the Goring 10K
  

The keen supporters in particular made me think that if you’re making a day of it to support one person, you might as well go the whole hog and make a spectacle of yourself for the benefit of everyone. Hitting random objects semi-rhythmically, or loading a ghetto blaster with those favourite running anthems, will raise hundreds if not thousands of smiles in a short space of time.

The only downer was the shuttle bus back to the station – I now remember that it was exactly the same last year. To anyone doing this race in future: the bus takes about an hour to cover the couple of miles back to the station. People were getting off and walking. It might not have been a bad idea.

If you like mass participation events, I’d definitely recommend this race: the organisers claimed it’s the second biggest in the UK (to Great North Run presumably) with 13,000 entrants (although only 9,000 finishers – some New Year resolutions fallen by the wayside methinks) and it now has the unique selling point of finishing in a Premiership football stadium. At least for one year.

I intend to make it a regular outing.

Well that’s my race season over until at least late summer. I’ll let you know if I manage any training.

PS – really, really, really stiff the day after.