Sheffield Half Marathon - 25 April 2010

Sheffield was the first in my 'Year of Half Marathons'.  I entered on the basis that it would be a better introduction to the distance than the suicidally hilly Leeds, and that the weather was likely to be more reliable than Alderney in September.

I woke up at 6.15 having slept pretty well (considering it was the night before the race).  I had my usual pre race breakfast of porridge and tea, stirring in a square of dark chocolate to give my legs a little extra something.  I'd woken up to the sound of rain falling on the velux window above my head.  It got harder as I ate, and with a heavy heart I packed my shorts in my kit bag and left the house wearing tights, a hoodie and a ski jacket, resigned to the fact that it looked like I'd be running in the rain.


The weather gods seem to love runners though!  By the time I got to Sheffield the rain had eased off and it looked as though the worst had passed.  I parked and wondered down to the Don Valley stadium, arriving and hour and a half before the start.  I took advantage of the lack of crowds to have a sports massage - satisfyingly I felt the nagging tensions I'd had for a few days in my glutes and hamstrings release as the masseuse did something to my back.  Then, seeing that the weather was clearing, changed into my shorts, club vest and rand new go faster sunglasses.

I warmed up on the track and then made my way to the sub 2 hr pen.  Following some helpful advice from Helen, I'd settled on a target time of 1:55.  My plan was to run the flat opening miles at 8:47, slow down on the hills between miles 4 and 7 in order to maintain the same perceived effort, open up on the downhill section between miles 7 and 10, and then pick up the pace at 10 if I felt comfortable.  I subdued my nerves by rehearsing my strategy in my head.

As soon as the race started a deep sense of calm came over me.  I had been worried about finding my pace as I'd struggled to run at race pace the week before in training, always going out too hard.  But I ran through the first two miles in 8:46 apiece, bang on my target time.  After that came the hills.  Although I slowed a little on them, they really weren't that bad.  Given that Sheffield is a city built on seven hills, it was practically flat!

The course was very inner city: it involved going through underpasses, running up ramps and through shopping precincts, and at one point into and out of the ground floor entrance of a multistorey car park.  Because it was in the heart of the city, the crowd support was fantastic!  People lined most of the streets, and different bands, cheerleading squads and charity teams had set up by the side of the road.  I particularly appreciated the support on the run up to the turn around point.  It was the longest uphill stretch of the race, and you could see the runners coming back in the other direction but didn't know how much further it was until you turned.  I was running behind a man in a chicken costume with a Kentucky state flag tied around his shoulders (geddit?) at the time so the cheers for my section of the pack were particularly encouraging.

Once we'd turned around there was a 3 mile downhill stretch and I ran some good mile splits, opening up a little but keeping within myself.  I had been moving steadily forward through the field for most of the race and was encouraged by the fact that unlike the people I was passing I wasn't out of breath, which told me that although my calves were feeling a bit tired I had plenty left in the tank.

I got to mile 10 in 1:26:29, taking 8 minutes off my 10 mile PB, and per my race strategy stepped the pace up a little bit.  It felt like more of an effort, but a comfortable effort.

In the eleventh mile, I was approaching another runner who had 'in memory of Alan Carsdale' printed on the back of her shirt.  It wasn't a charity vest, she'd just had it printed on the back of one of her normal running tops.  I started to think of my aunt, Julia, who died in 2009.  I started running in memory of her and decided when I get my new club vest I would get her name printed on it in the same way.  Thinking about about her reminded me that if she was still alive she would probably have come to cheer for me in a big race like this and it reminded me how much I missed her.  Suddenly, in the middle of the race, I was crying.  Only somehow it manifested itself more as an inability to breather, as though I was having a panic attack.  Not the most convenient moment to be oxygen deprived.  I spent a couple of minutes working quite hard to force myself to breathe in and out deeply and slowly beofre it passed.

Earlier in the race, I had calculated that if I could get to the 12 mile marker in 1:45 something I could comfortably finish just under 1:55.  I ran through the marker bang on target and began to pick up the pace.  Normally the last mile of a race is deceptively long, but this one if anything felt shorter than it was.  As we approached the stadium, ran around the top of the seating and then back out to the marathon gate I had to work quite hard to weave through people who seemed to be slowing down, but I managed to progressively pick up my speed and managed a fast run through the marathon gate and down the track to cross the finish line.  With a massive smile on my face.  I knew I'd come comfortably under 1:55 and I still felt like I had something left in my legs.  I was on top of the world!  (My chip time turned out to be 1:53:42).

I took full advantage of Erica, the sports masseuse, and had her do some work on my calves before heading back to Leeds.  And it was still only noon.  How do you follow that?  With a big bowl of pasta and a Lush bubble bath of course!

So, it's only April and I've bagged both my time targets for the year.  What's next?  To be honest, I'd quite like to rest on my laurels and take it easy for a while.  I've got a trail race and the Leeds Half coming up in the next fortnight, but psychologically racing for a time is demanding.  I don't want to do any more PB bagging for a few months.  Instead I'm going to get these two races out of the way and then focus on building another key running skill: consistency of training.  Earlier in the year, I went out too hard in training and got quite worn down.  I want to spend a few months with no big races in mind, exploring what a solid training base looks like for me.  And if that happens to involve knocking a few seconds off my 5k PB at Parkrun, I won't complain... ;-)

Pennine 10k

I approached the Pennine 10k in an bad frame of mind.  My running's been all over the place recently.  I've had a few good weeks, clocking 25 - 30 miles, and a few terrible weeks where life and feeling glum has intervened.  This week, for example, I didn't run at all between Monday and Saturday.  That's right: nothing at all.  I've been circuit training and made a feeble attempt at cycling, but running - zip, nada, a big fat zero.

Earlier in the year I was hoping to break my 10k PB of 53:32 in a spring race, spurred on by running through 10k in 52:34 in training.  But after a month of feeling rubbish, I was worried I'd be lucky to even equal my PB.  So I had very low expectations for the Pennine 10k, which I had been warned is what race organisers euphemistically describe as 'undulating.'  Or, as Kay put it 'too hilly.'

I was debating not going at all, but Rona was determined to spectate so I couldn't let her down.  Plus I'd heard that the momento is a rather nice engraved glass and I'm a bit short of glasses.  So up I got at 6.50 (boo) to knock back my porridge.

The Pennine 10k is one of those races that sums up what local races are all about.  Respect to the Halifax Harriers, who showed out in huge numbers to marshall and cheer on the runners (as well as fronting a few favourites to win).   The roads weren't closed, but the marshalls skillfully controlled the traffic and a lot of locals were sitting in their gardens or standing on the pavement to watch the race.

Deciding I needed all the help I could get I did a good mile warm up and stretched at the start line.  I knew that the big hilly section was from about mile 3 to mile 5 and could see from my warm up that there was a steep downhill mile at the start.  I decided to pace myself according to the terrain, legging it as fast as I could downhill and chipping away at the uphill.

So when the race started I really did peg it, running through the first mile in 6:56 - my first sub 7 minute mile - and the second flatter mile in 7:17 - still much faster than I normally run.  I was terrified at this point that I would blow up on the hill so tucked in behind another runner and went through the next mile, a gentle incline, in 8:22.

I hit the 5k marker in 22:19, knocking 1 minute and 41 seconds off my 5k PB.  It suddenly occured to me that if I could hang on through the hills I could still PB.  But I realised that I had to have the guts to run my own race.  That meant no trailing other runners and no watching the watch: I was going to run on perceived effort.

The first half mile of hill was pretty harsh.  I was unnerved when a very fit looking female runner had to stop for a walk break (she never caught me up again).  But I tanked on, keeping my stride short and resisting the urge to surge for the crest.  A couple of times I heard another runner coming up to my shoulder and told myself 'let him pass.'  This was my race, and I knew that what I lost running uphill I could gain back running downhill if I held something back for the last mile.

Two miles of running uphill felt pretty rough but as the course started to level out at about mile 5 and I began to overtake other runners I knew I'd made the choice in not hitting the hills too hard.  I stepped up my leg turnover when I saw the 8 kilometer marker and made sure I attacked any downhill sections.  At 9k I was pretty tired but I knew from training that I could hold a hard pace for a kilometer so dug in.

Unfortunately it was the twistiest last kilometer of a race imaginable.  Every time I turned a corner, imagining that the finish line lay just around it, there was more to come.  And then when I did turn the final corner, what was I faced with but a fairly steep uphill to the finish.  Gutting.  There was no question of sprinting for the line, I just had to hang on.

I didn't feel quite as bad as I felt after the last PECO cross country race, but that was possibly only because my legs were so tired that my stomach didn't have enough energy to feel nauseous.  I hobbled away from the finishing chute and sat on the grass.  A kind hearted Halifax Harrier handed me his water bottle, evidently taking one look at me and deciding I needed it more than him.

But I knew the truth.  This sweaty jelly-legged heap wasn't slumped in defeat.  Oh no.  This jelly-legged heap had crossed the line in 49:18, knocking a massive 4 minutes and 16 seconds (count them!) off her PB.  That's 8%.  That's over 40 seconds a mile.  That's a whole lot of awesome!  This jelly-legged heap who had come thinking she'd be lucky to run 55 minutes had just achieved, in all likelihood, the biggest margin of PB she was ever going to get over 10k.  As one of the runners said afterwards, 'we need to find you a flat course quick!'

But, when the results were published online it got even better.  I was 3rd in my age category.  My age category being senior: that meant I was third in the women's race!  This really was the race of my life!

Massive thanks to Gill and Rona for acting as my personal cheer squad.  Between them they popped up at four places along the course, and lied through their teeth about how good I was looking.  Exactly what you need to hear when you feel like your lung in about to pop out of your rib cage and your calves are on fire.  And I knew that the lone voice in the crowd calling out 'Come on Woodhouse Whippet' could only be for me.  Class!

Kit shopping: the financial reporting way

Today I got paid, and made a transfer from accrued income to cash per IAS 18 - Revenue:


Dr  Cash
      Cr  Revenue


I got myself down to a local sports retailer.  Whilst trying on kit, I realised that there was evidence of asset impairment.  As I held assets under the revaluation model, this triggered an IAS 36 - Impairment of Assets review.


Extract from non-current asset register:

1/01/09:   Balance brought forward: 36DD (nice!)
31/12/09: Impairment charge
1/01/10:   34B
19/03/10: Impairment charge
19/03/10: Balance carried forwards: 34A


Dr  Impairment loss
       Cr  Clevage



If any further impairments are required, I'm going to have negative equity!  Boo :-(  In order to preserve what little assets I have left, I invested in a new sport bra.



Dr  Wardrobe
        Cr Cash



Per IAS 16 - Property, Plant and Equipment's historic cost model it requires depreciating over it's useful economic life (UEL).   Cost equals £35.  UEL equals approx 350 miles.  Weekly milage rate is 30.  Estimated residual value = nil.  350/30 = 12 weeks.  35/12 = £2.91.  Therefore the new bra will be subject to a weekly depreciation charge of £2.91 over 12 weeks.



I can't wait for Financial Reporting to be over...

Milestone - 200 miles

As I uploaded the data from today's long run, I noticed that it has bumped my milage for the year up to the magical 200 - such a beautiful round number!  It also puts me within 0.31 miles of the break even point required to run 1000 training miles in 2010.  Just the boost I need after a tough few weeks - at least something's going right.

This was the first long run I have done overdistance for the half marathon (15.35 miles).  I ran it slower than my normal long run pace, but bear in mind that my normal long run pace is too fast and I only ran it an average 5 seconds/mile slower.  I definitely need to work on reigning myself in!  But I was really chuffed to see that when I fed my distance and time into a Rigel calculator, it predicted me a half marathon time of 1:59:09.  I'll take that!  Now that I've proved to myself that sub 2 is doable, I can focus on some quality recovery and consolidation to prepare me for Sheffield.

I think I'll start with a nice big bowl of curry and rice and a stretch out on the foam roller...

PECO race 5 - Esholt

This was the last race in the PECO series.  VARR ladies team are in the first division.  We’ve consistently fielded more than the minimum 4 women for the competition and collectively have shown real grit and determination through mud, ice, hills and more mud.  

I went to the race determined to run hard and help boost our end of season score.  Foolishly, I also went into the race having totally ignored my recent observations about resting properly between hard sessions.  The day before the race I had been to circuit training in the morning, spending an hour doing kettlebell work, shuttles and millions of squats and lunges.  That afternoon, I’d then joined a few of the girls from Eccleshill for a 10 mile road run, including running at sub 7 min/mile pace for the last half mile.

The race was two laps of a very beautiful route through the woods in Esholt.  It was also muddy and consisted almost entirely of long uphill drags followed by sharp downhills.  It didn’t look as bad as Nell Bank (race 3), but it was the hardest course I’ve run over.  Not helped by the fact that I had left my trail shoes outside the back door when I left home (luckily no one in Meanwood fancied a pair of muddy, frost glazed Mizunos) so I ran in a pair of gripless retired road shoes.

So, I was poorly prepared and knew it.  I decided I should just run hard from the start and hope that I had enough reserves to get me round.  To that end I pushed myself quite close to the front of the pack at the start line, although I made sure that Helen was able to pass me – I was relying on her to get a good position as VARR’s first woman home.

I found the first lap tough.  It was very slippy under foot, making downhills, which is where I usually gain a lot of places, a suicidal prospect in old road shoes.  There was a hill just before the end of the lap which just seemed to go on and on.  Every time I thought I had got the summit, some more came into view.  I was really relieved to get back to the start point and know that there was a level road section on which I could recover.

Except that the first few hundred meters of the second lap were different.  Instead of that lovely road section I had motivated myself up that horrific hill with, there was more muddy, hilly trail.  I was already tiring, as my legs hadn’t properly recovered from the previous day.  This change from what I had psyched myself up for was a really tough. 

By mile 3 (of 4.75) I was really hurting.  I lost concentration a couple of times, accidentally running off route to try to avoid the most treacherous footholds.  I was scrambling quite well up the short sharp hills, but the long drags were a killer.  I reached a low point about half way round the second lap and walked for a short stretch.  I picked up to a run again as I heard another runner approaching me, but I didn’t have much pace left in my legs.

I could tell from the sound of her breathing that the runner coming up nehind me was fresher than I was, so I was surprised that she took quite a while to pass me.  When she did pass me, she said ‘well done,’ and I was shocked to see that it was Khara.  Khara is a much faster runner than me and I had assumed that she had been ahead of me from the start.  Seeing her pass me made me realise I was further up the field than I thought.

The realisation that I might not have performed as badly as I thought I had helped me to push up the last long hill.  At the top, there was only a short but very steep downhill section to the finishing chute.  These last few hundred meters were, I remembered from lap one, very slippery and I knew my legs were too tired and my shoes too smooth to run it hard without missing the corner.

I glanced back over my shoulder.  There was no one within overtaking distance.  I shuffled down, still veering off the path at the bottom but at least not ploughing headlong into the spectators.  The encouragement on the VARR team just by the finish line was brilliant, and went some way to making up for my own low mood.

I finished 25^th, only one place behind Khara and 11 places higher than my next best performance in the league.  The rest of the team did brilliantly, including Dave McGuire finishing first in his age category and Ellie coming second in her juniors race.  Both the men’s and women’s teams finished top of the first division and the men will be promoted to the premier division next season.  It was a testament to everyone’s hard work that a lot of runners came back battered and bruised but still running, including Dearbhail who was given a bloody nose by a tree.

I felt bad after the race.  I couldn't think properly and was cold and shaky.  I suspect that my muscles simply hadn’t enough time to recover and refuel since the previous day and I was hypoglycemic.  An energy bar, a pint of orange squash and some pizza helped.   I was finally restored to humanity by a cup of strong sweet tea, confirming that it is indeed the nectar of the gods...

I have mixed feelings about the race.  I am very proud of our team, who without exception ran brilliantly.  I’m pleased that I managed to finish my own season with a much higher position than I thought I was capable of.  But I’m frustrated that I still haven’t learnt from my recent experiences and recognised that three hard sessions in two days is just ridiculous.

When you run, you are only as fast and as strong as your limiting factor.   At the moment, my limiting factor is being overtired.  It's getting to the stage where I can feel that I'm putting my emotional as well as my physical equilibrium at risk.  I push myself because when other things are stressful, I feel like I can use running to make me feel good about myself, but when I'm tired I can't run as well as I want to so I push myself harder.  Instead of lifting my mood it only exhausts me, which makes my performance and my emotional state drop off a cliff.  It's a hard lesson to learn that when your confidence is at it's lowest, instead of giving in to the urge to prove yourself you have to take a step back.

The art of the snot rocket

Running is an activity that causes you to redefine your thoughts on acceptable behaviour.  In particular, winter running causes a condition known as 'rhinorrhea'.  In plain English: it's as though a tap has been turned on in your nose that it way beyond the capacity of tissues to deal with.

It will disgust you, a sane reader, to learn that previously my tactic for dealing with rhinorrea has been to blow my hands on my gloves while running.  The heat generated by excercise causes the liquid to dry quickly and there aren't many other options when you are five miles from home and have two silver slug trails running down your face...

You may recall from my Radcliffe 10 race report that I complained about a fellow runner who was 'snot rocketing' on the run, making him difficult to overtake.  Snot rocketing, for the more civilised among you, is the art of covering one nostril and breathing out violently through the other in order to evacuate it of fluid.  Clearly very poor race etiquette (or a very clever race tactic, depending on whether you have an English or an American attitude to sporting behaviour...).  However, also a very useful skill.

The long run is a training ground for running behaviour: hydration, pacing, taking on fuel.  Today, when the tissues ran dry (or should that be wet?) I also used mine to master the art of the snot rocket.  Previously I had assumed that, like getting lids off jars and changing engine oil, this was a skill confined to the male of the species.  However, at an isolated spot near Eccup Reservoir, desperation prompted me to give it a go and I discovered otherwise.

Ah, the sweet sensation of clear airways where previously there has only been congestion.  A word of warning though: be mindful of the prevailing wind.  Otherwise the rocket may find a target a little too close to home...

My new shoes!

The Brooks Ravenna.  They have changed the way I run.  No longer do I dive for the nearest puddle of mud because 'it's fun'.  Now I seek out the dry routes to preserve their pristine glory.  Sadly the Meanwood Valley Trail has permanently greyed them, but I've discovered the the Force 4 chandlery cataloge makes a good shoe stuffer for drying pruposes!