I probably over-prepared for the race, making sure I had a breakfast of cereal, plus an oaty cereal bar and brought an energy drink (rather than water) with me, into which I'd put a dissolvable tablet supposed to help hydration. Looking back, this was almost certainly overkill. It's 6 miles, not 26.
My first (of many) problems came as I lay in bed the night before. With all my energy bars and drinks, I had forgotten to bring what was probably the most crucial thing: headphones. I tried to calm myself down after the initial shock and panic by reassuring myself that I could find some at a petrol station (since I would need them at 9am on a Sunday - too early for most shops). The next morning, however, Ash kindly showed me places where I might find some without any success.
Not having headphones meant I couldn't listen to music or hear how I was doing from my RunKeeper app. It might not sound like much, but I have made sure that all the songs in my running playlist are at the same tempo and always run with the same songs to make sure I don't run too fast and to help push me if I slow down. Even with music I sometimes change speed due to the wildly varying length of my stride, which is why I also need RunKeeper to update me on my pace and keep me from going too fast too soon.
All these things were not helping my nerves, but pre-race excitement and adrenaline kept those from affecting me too much. I was very concerned about getting carried away at the start with athletes who were better than me and burning out before the end so, as I lined up, I was careful to be towards the back of the 40-50minute wave. Ash was careful to check out the hot girl to our left.
When we started, Ash quickly found his pace and I followed. I knew he would be running faster than me so I wasn't concerned when I lost him after about 500m and carried on with my own race. I felt pretty good at the start and tried to find a groove without music (which is surprisingly hard when you're not used to it). I was concentrating so much on what I was doing myself that I completely missed what should have been a big red flag: not only was I overtaking a lot of people who had started in front of me, I was overtaking people with running club and tri club jerseys on.
I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure that, as a novice runner, I should not be running faster than most of the field.
By the time I realised all this, I was coming up towards 3 miles in a little over 20 minutes - the first time I checked my phone for pace - and found that I was on for a PB over 5k. I knew I'd be exhausted by the time I got past that distance, so I tried to pull back.
By this time, however, the damage had been done; all the people I had run past started to come back past me. Embarrassingly, this began with a man pushing a buggy which contained his son.
My pace gradually slowed more and more over the return journey and I was passed by more people than I could count. I could only hope that I wasn't the only one slipping backwards, but I got the feeling that the only people going backwards were behind me. Eventually I slowed to the point where I was nudging 10 minutes per mile - much worse than I would do at home over my much more hilly estate. By this stage, sweating and feeling dehydrated, craving water and cursing the fact that I hadn't diluted my sports drink more, I was ready to quit and walk. The only thing that kept me going was embarrassment knowing that I had passed all these people and wanted to show that, at the very least, I had grit and determination to keep going (it didn't even matter that it would certainly be pretend grit and imaginary determination).Since my pace had dropped so much, I didn't try to push at all for the middle sector, firm in the belief that running slowly would help me to recover enough to push for the last bit and at least look like I tried when I got to the finish and the judging eyes of all the people watching racers return.
Not long after I passed the 8k marker I was overtaken by a small group, perhaps only three or four, backed by a woman in a white T-shirt. As soon as I saw she had pass me, I decided that she would be the last. I didn't let her get more than 10 metres in front of me and held the same pace as her. What I didn't realise is that my stride length must have been longer than hers, because I had caught her up again very quickly. Maintaining my new rhythm, I made my first overtake in over 3km!
It was the smallest of victories on the day, but probably the one that meant the most, since it was the catalyst that spurred me on to target the next of the group of people who had overtaken me. I couldn't maintain a quick pace for very long, but kept at it, making sure that I was always on course to overtake the next person ahead of me.
After overtaking the woman in white, I wasn't overtaken at all before the end.
I did, however, regret picking up my pace so early by the last half mile when each time I thought the finish was in sight, I rounded a bend and saw further to go! I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. My legs still had more to give, but my lungs couldn't feed them and my brain at the same time. Fortunately I didn't feel too faint and managed to push when I got back to the sports field where the race began. I must have overtaken about 10 or 12 people at that point, where my pace (very briefly) dropped to about 5:39 a mile.I crossed the line after 51 minutes and 43 seconds and immediately fell to my knees to catch my breath before exiting the finish area and collecting my bottle and medal. Ash called me over to him, but I had to go and find a place away from people near the bushes, convinced I was going to vomit. Sitting in the shade to rest helped me enough that I knew I wasn't going to be sick, but did draw my attention to the huge blisters I had on my insoles.
All in all, I'm satisfied with my time. I was aiming to be under 50 minutes and I think I proved to myself that I would be capable of doing that time if I paced myself better. The upside is that I have a much easier target to beat in July!
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