Last year I was suckered into entering the Stockport 10 after becoming hooked on their advertising campaign, "It's the goody bag at the Stockport 10" on YouTube; a drip-feed release of videos featuring cryptic clues as to the contents of said goody bag, accompanied by the most irritating ear-worm of a theme tune. Go on, Google it - I dare you, and you'll be singing it forever...
In all seriousness, it is a favourite event of many around here and I had only ever heard good things about it, so I popped along in December 2010 as my first proper run after a prolonged period of recovery with an achilles problem. With that history in mind, I was fairly confident of running a better race this year; though I was still undertrained, I was fitter and more prepared for the event this weekend and really was looking forward to having another go at it, running with a bit more pace. However, the luck fairy was not smiling on me this weekend (or maybe I was visited by her evil twin, the f*ck-up fairy, as she is known by my friends) and while cycling to work on Saturday morning, I took a rather heavy tumble on a patch of ice. My right knee bore the brunt of the fall, closely supported by left shin, left elbow and right shoulder (surprisingly well distributed, I thought). Once at work, I was able to rest and ice the effected bits, but for the remainder of the day I really was unsure whether racing the following day was going to happen or not. However, by the evening I was pretty confident that the damage was more cosmetic than structural, so as long as I could cope with the discomfort caused by the vibrations of running, the act of running itself was going to be alright.
Sunday dawned wet, cold and miserable. Typical Manchester weather. And after a rather indulgent lie-in (oh, the joy of local events) we found ourselves running late, as ever, so mobilised the hounds and headed round the M60 to Stockport. A fair number of fellow RunnersWorld (internet forum) runners and triathletes were also out for the jolly, getting damp and cold, at the start but due to our perennial tardiness, we barely got to say hello before we were pottering off to the back of the pack on the start track.
I didn't hear the claxon, but we trotted for a bit, then stopped and then started in earnest (which is when I started my Garmin, so the recorded time and my Garmin time are quite a way out from each other) and as we crossed the official start, we really were only pottering at 10m/m. The course begins with two laps of the athletics track and before we had even reached the 200m mark on the first circuit, the lead guys were lapping us! (Oh, the shame!) I didn't really mind, it gave me a proper chance to assess how the bruises felt as I ran and warmed us up nicely. However, as we left the track and headed out into the park for the course proper, I did up the pace, leaving my virtual running friends behind; though I wasn't going full pelt, I did, at least, want to better last year's time.
The first five miles were a real joy (despite the miserable wind and rain) as I felt strong and powerful; a rare and beautiful feeling in a race situation, probably because I wasn't really properly racing. I comfortably held 8.5-9m/m and began to target a sub 90 minute finish, which would have been a real result under the circumstances. The course has some fairly interesting upflats and descents, bearing in mind it is essentially a town road-race, and I was really pleased to pass more people than ever before on the way down. Once upon a time I used to overtake loads of runners on the ups, only to see them speed past me on the downs. I used to think it was because I was quite little and a low centre of gravity helped on the way up while their long legs had the advantage on the way down. However, over the last couple of years I've learnt that it is all about technique and I've really worked on running downhill with more confidence (think running like Phoebe from Friends - just relax and go with it!). Now I need to get my fitness back to work on getting better at the uphills again.
I knew the second half of the course was more challenging and I expected to run a positive split, with the last 5 miles being around 9-9.5m/m and the sub-90 finish was my carrot to make sure I didn't get lazy and let the pace drop (it's a real failing of mine, since I started running long distances, is that I tend to sit back at a comfortable pace rather than push on like I used to). As ever, there were moments in the last couple of miles where pushing on was pretty much the last thing I wanted to do, especially up the hills, but the motivation to get the 90 surprised me. However, over the intervening twelve months I had forgotten that the last hill was a real beggar of a long, slow leg sapper and as I entered the park to head back to the track I thought I'd blown it and began to allow the sit-back trot to take over.
Coming into the track area, I saw my husband, totally sodden and looking frozen and I knew I had to buck up my ideas - the sooner I finished, the sooner we were all home and dry and I found a bit of energy to pick it up for the last 400m. The clock at the finish ticked on to 1.31, but a quick glance at my Garmin told me I could make a personal time of under 1.30; for that last lap of the track I rediscovered what sub-7m/m felt like! Final result - 1.30 and a little bit, Garmin has me dead-on for an average of 9m/m (race results record me at 1.31xx)
On reflection it was a really good race, despite the hiccups. It may be a long way from my 10 mile PB, but it's the best result I've had in a while and things look more promising for some upcoming events if I can get some proper speed training in.
I did miss having Benny's company, but I didn't miss the extra faffage of keeping him on task. I guess it's just reinforced the things I need to work on; Bear and I need more time out together, I need to do more up-hill running and, as I keep reminding myself, more time running fast.
(If I say it enough times, I might actually man-up and do the proper interval training!)
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