Blog 2006-08-28
Vets Half Marathon
This was my 16th (?) Half Marathon, and a PW (personal worst) by a long way, and I have hardly been more elated. It was touch and go as to whether I would run at all for all of the week, especially after a few poor (poor? Nay, abysmal!) performances over the last week in particular. Last by a long way in the Black Mountain run up (2.6km and with a great difficulty in breathing); last in the almost pancake flat Cross Country Dunrossil Drive 4km; last and looking for a 6 foot hole at the summit of Mt Ainslie after a mere 2.2 km on Tuesday . . . . things did not auger well for the half.
Thursday was a low patch, most of the day spent asleep or in the pursuit of it. However I felt rather better on Friday morning, and after Bob and I had a coffee date at Bob at the National Gallery, and then we visited Peter the PRB in hospital. A quick trip home for Bob to change before fronting up to the Customs run at lunchtime in drizzling rain.
Although I run a snail-paced 27:45 (5:33 pace), I was much better during the run than I had been for ages, even being able to say “G’Day Richard/Tony/Paul/Simon” (et al) as I ran, instead of grunting a gurgling wheeze in lieu.
Waking early on Sunday, Bob and I travelled separately, with me to start with the earliest group (over 2 hours) at 8:00 am, and Bob with the speedy old blokes (sexist, I know) at 9:00 am. Thankfully I was very early, as there was no address on the form downloaded from the website, so I had posted it to regular Vets PO Box address (a fair assumption I would have thought). Alas, no. Along with many others, our form had not been received, so my ample time to change, go to the ladies, etc was greatly shortened. I re-registered for Bob and I, and frantically rang the home and mobile numbers to let him know where his race bib was, as he could not collect it from the usual place.
Eventually getting through, I dashed to the toilets, and nearly missed the start when leaving my bag at Stage 88 and then running to the Start line some distance away. With my heart rate already at 133 bpm, I settled in to the start of the run at a slow jog at the tail of the pack. Within the first kilometre, I came across MC from Customs, and we settled into a steady, chatty rhythm. We were content to let the other purportedly slow runners ease ahead of us, as the ribbon of T-Shirts and caps stretched out along the lakefront around Regatta Point and across Commonwealth Avenue Bridge.
I was happy with our slow and steady pace, happy to nibble away at the miles in small, digestible tastes, rather than bite of more than I could chew and choke! I had to dash off into the bushes more than once, however that is one of the joys of running in Canberra ~ even in a largeish event like this one, there are plenty of fairly discrete bushes along the course . . . it doesn’t happen in the City to Surf!
MC tired a little, and we vowed to stick together over the hills, climbing out of Scrivener Dam, then Black Mountain Peninsula, and finally Hospital Hill at Acton. Down, down through the underpass and the 19 km mark, I started looking over my shoulder for a flash of orange to see if I could catch sight of Bob, as the front runners from the 9:00 am group started coming past with increasing frequency. MC dropped further back and told me to keep going along this stretch towards the Ferry Terminal.
Up until this point my heart rate had been averaging a very pedestrian 124 bpm or so, and the speed had gradually decreased to around 7:30 mins/km. Picking up my pace in this last, familiar mile, my breathing was a little harder, my heart rate peaked at just over 150 bpm ( far lower than the average during Customs or a similar event), and I did far and away my fastest kilometre (5:33 m/km). I was chuffed!
Finishing in an incredible 2 hours 23 minutes and 56 seconds (Incredible if I had run twice the distance that is!), I was nevertheless delighted. It has encouraged me to do more longer, slower runs.
I wonder how slow the famous Saturday morning group of the PRB does?
A few days down at Merimbula with Bob will be the icing on the cake.
Vets Half Marathon
This was my 16th (?) Half Marathon, and a PW (personal worst) by a long way, and I have hardly been more elated. It was touch and go as to whether I would run at all for all of the week, especially after a few poor (poor? Nay, abysmal!) performances over the last week in particular. Last by a long way in the Black Mountain run up (2.6km and with a great difficulty in breathing); last in the almost pancake flat Cross Country Dunrossil Drive 4km; last and looking for a 6 foot hole at the summit of Mt Ainslie after a mere 2.2 km on Tuesday . . . . things did not auger well for the half.
Thursday was a low patch, most of the day spent asleep or in the pursuit of it. However I felt rather better on Friday morning, and after Bob and I had a coffee date at Bob at the National Gallery, and then we visited Peter the PRB in hospital. A quick trip home for Bob to change before fronting up to the Customs run at lunchtime in drizzling rain.
Although I run a snail-paced 27:45 (5:33 pace), I was much better during the run than I had been for ages, even being able to say “G’Day Richard/Tony/Paul/Simon” (et al) as I ran, instead of grunting a gurgling wheeze in lieu.
Waking early on Sunday, Bob and I travelled separately, with me to start with the earliest group (over 2 hours) at 8:00 am, and Bob with the speedy old blokes (sexist, I know) at 9:00 am. Thankfully I was very early, as there was no address on the form downloaded from the website, so I had posted it to regular Vets PO Box address (a fair assumption I would have thought). Alas, no. Along with many others, our form had not been received, so my ample time to change, go to the ladies, etc was greatly shortened. I re-registered for Bob and I, and frantically rang the home and mobile numbers to let him know where his race bib was, as he could not collect it from the usual place.
Eventually getting through, I dashed to the toilets, and nearly missed the start when leaving my bag at Stage 88 and then running to the Start line some distance away. With my heart rate already at 133 bpm, I settled in to the start of the run at a slow jog at the tail of the pack. Within the first kilometre, I came across MC from Customs, and we settled into a steady, chatty rhythm. We were content to let the other purportedly slow runners ease ahead of us, as the ribbon of T-Shirts and caps stretched out along the lakefront around Regatta Point and across Commonwealth Avenue Bridge.
I was happy with our slow and steady pace, happy to nibble away at the miles in small, digestible tastes, rather than bite of more than I could chew and choke! I had to dash off into the bushes more than once, however that is one of the joys of running in Canberra ~ even in a largeish event like this one, there are plenty of fairly discrete bushes along the course . . . it doesn’t happen in the City to Surf!
MC tired a little, and we vowed to stick together over the hills, climbing out of Scrivener Dam, then Black Mountain Peninsula, and finally Hospital Hill at Acton. Down, down through the underpass and the 19 km mark, I started looking over my shoulder for a flash of orange to see if I could catch sight of Bob, as the front runners from the 9:00 am group started coming past with increasing frequency. MC dropped further back and told me to keep going along this stretch towards the Ferry Terminal.
Up until this point my heart rate had been averaging a very pedestrian 124 bpm or so, and the speed had gradually decreased to around 7:30 mins/km. Picking up my pace in this last, familiar mile, my breathing was a little harder, my heart rate peaked at just over 150 bpm ( far lower than the average during Customs or a similar event), and I did far and away my fastest kilometre (5:33 m/km). I was chuffed!
Finishing in an incredible 2 hours 23 minutes and 56 seconds (Incredible if I had run twice the distance that is!), I was nevertheless delighted. It has encouraged me to do more longer, slower runs.
I wonder how slow the famous Saturday morning group of the PRB does?
A few days down at Merimbula with Bob will be the icing on the cake.
Fantastic ! Very happy for you FD. Whilst it might not be the fastest you've ever run (der), from a time on your feet point of view, its a huge effort.
:)