15/9/13 The Great North Run
A lot happened in the interim between the coastal run and the Great North Run, but not a lot of it was running. I was back into proper training mode for aerial, and started heavy lifting at the beginning of August. Heavy legs from weight training were making running slow and difficult, especially coupled with the heat of the seemingly everlasting summer we were having (which is lovely, but not when you’re running), so aside from maintaining the streak, running really took a back seat. No sign of half marathon training. I was in denial and I’d lost the running love. If it wasn’t for the streak I’d not have done any at all.
Of course, at the beginning of August I came down with a cold, which morphed a week later into sinusitis, which would plague me for 3 more weeks. I was fed up and unmotivated running-wise. I didn’t go to many club sessions because I had no speed and was getting tired of getting left behind. I found it hard to run anyway, since my sinus pain made my head feel like it was going to fall off. The gym and aerial were fine though (as long as I didn’t go upside down too often), so I hit them hard. Mostly aerial was conditioning while I rehabbed from shoulder injury and discovered the huge benefit to weight training when I went to the Edinburgh Aerial and Acrobatics Convention the week before the GNR and suddenly I could do things again!
Of course, this spurred me on to want to do more training and made me even less bothered about running. The Great North Run was looming and I had never been less enthused about a race. The only reason I hadn’t dropped out was because it cost so much. Two weeks before, I dropped out of the Tynedale 10 mile run (which I’d been looking forward to for a long time) because of my sinusitis and lack of training. A couple of days later I’d run 10 miles just to check I still could, and it was a hellish slog and a slow one at that. I was not hopeful.
After EAAC I took a week off everything except running. Even that was minimal. It was weird having all that time... The day before GNR we took a 3.5 mile run along the quayside, which was challenging but not horrendous. I felt a little bouyed but still hopeless. Because I’d entered on the back of an awesome PB, I was actually in one of the front zones which is a great place to start, but as we made our way into it, I realised I was one of very few ladies in amongst the men and started to wonder what the hell I thought I was doing. My ankle was tweaking (I had an appointment with a specialist booked for it the very next day!) and my watch hadn’t charged the night before. It all felt doomed. My fiance and I had been saying the day before that we were looking forward to finishing just so that we had nothing looming at us for a while. If I a) finished, or b) got under 2 hours I’d have been happy.
So, eventually the gun went (we were close enough to hear it!) and we crossed the line 3 minutes later. I set off at a comfortable pace and let people go around me. Except they weren’t going as fast as I thought they would. In fact, most of them were staying at the same speed as me. I looked at my watch and realised I’d set off way too fast, but I’ve been there before and decided to just go at a speed that felt okay and just play it by ear. I caught up with a friend who was running as a gorilla and ran with him for a while before pushing on at a faster pace and just as I was getting into the swing of it, my watch died. It was about 5.5 miles in, and the last thing it had told me was that, definitively, I was going too fast for me ON form, let alone nowhere near it.
Now having no pace indicator (and the GNR doesn’t have screens), I was in a quandry. I could slow down but not know how much by, or I could just push it as hard I dared for as long as I could. If I ended up slowing down so be it. So I stayed with the guys I’d been with for the last 3 miles. And it felt fine. I never really felt tired. I felt my knee tighten a’la London, but I talked myself through good form and it passed. It was raining, which is always a great thing for me, and the gale force winds hadn’t materialised. All was going weirdly well. I was expecting to discover that I’d actually been going really slow at the end.
The last hill on the GNR is a bit evil. Most of the course is uphill, with downhills so subtle you don’t really notice them. The last hill is fairly step at about 11.5 miles and stretches until the most ridiculous downhill at 12 miles. At this point, just when I was tired and had decided I didn’t care anymore, a guy tapped me on the shoulder and told me that I’d been running the hills like a boss but I’d just slowed down and he reckoned I should get a move on. There’s not a lot you can do with that. I sped up.
As I hit the 12 mile marked I overheard someone saying that they were online for about 1:46 - I was agape. I’d only crossed the line 3 minutes after the start. They could have started anywhere near me, but that still didn’t sound right. Moments later I heard someone in the crowd shouting out to their friend that it was 12:20pm. I did the maths. I was going to get in in under 1:45. I sped up. By the time I hit the finishing straight I was on a full sprint and glanced up at the clock to see a 1:46 and knew I’d come close to a PB. It ended up being 1:44:24. 3:21 off my PB, which was set in the peak of my marathon training.
I was made of glee. I ran to the pick up station to meet my fiance, who obviously wasn’t expecting me for another 20 minutes so wasn’t there. He picked up a very grumpy Pip some time later. All of a sudden I was in love with running again. It felt miraculous. Until reality hit… if I can do that off-form with no training then what am I really capable of? All of a sudden I’m kicking myself for not being braver.
Thinking about it later, I can’t figure out one factor that might have led to such unprecedented success that day. There were lots of things that probably helped though:
The weight training must have helped - the strength in my legs meant they could keep going longer and the strength in my core and upper body meant I was running more upright (there was photographic evidence). Certainly, while I’d been running I felt really good.
I’d lost some body fat in the 6 weeks prior because I’d been cutting (though I actually weighed more).
I’d tapered properly and given my body a rest.
I’d gone in with no expectations, and was more relaxed about it. I hadn’t pressured myself.
More importantly, despite the lack of expectation I’d adapted my game plan as I went along, which is something I’d learned through marathon training and racing.
I had no watch so I was terrified of slowing down.
I decided to be braver and see what I could do without holding too much back.
I signed up for another half the next day. So much for no more racing for a while! I also blitzed a training session two days later. What an amazing feeling!
