This weekend I ran the Sheffield Half Marathon (part of the PlusNet Yorkshire Marathon Series) with my bother Kyle and discovered three important things.

1) Sheffield is hilly.

2) You shouldn’t eat three breakfasts before running a half marathon.

3) Never underestimate the distracting power of a good view.

Okay – of course I had an idea Sheffield was hilly before.  I checked out the route elevation and quickly realised this was no short undulation.  It was 5.27 miles of hill.  Yes, you read correctly.  5.27 miles of hill.  Right at the start.  Just a 958 ft climb into the Peak District, some parts fundamentally steep!  Yikes.  Good job I have been hitting Oxford’s only hill each week in preparation.

Other preparation included a Slimming World friendly butternut squash and wholemeal pasta bake for dinner the day before (and maybe a slice of pizza – less Slimming World friendly but hey, if you can’t indulge before a race when can you?) and getting up early enough to eat breakfast.  Mum and I stayed in a hotel with a buffet breakfast which was nearly my undoing.

Faced with a spread of yummy pre-paid for food choices and I enter a kind of feeding frenzy which may even put piranhas to shame.  Damage limitation in this event was ensured by a restricted feeding window – I had to stop eating at 7:30 am to allow enough time for the food to digest before race start at 9:30 am.  Still even with only 15 minutes available I managed to eat, in no particular order, 2 slices of wholemeal toast (with jam), a sausage, some baked beans and scrambled egg, 3 mini pastries (the kind with custard and sultanas), a bowl of muesli with 0% fat Yeo Valley strawberry yoghurt and a banana, all chased down with a cappuccino and half a can of diet coke.  I am weirdly impressed at myself – but I regret these choices later!

Race start and perhaps unsurprisingly, 2 hours was not enough time to finish digesting the morning’s breakfasts.  I can run, but it is uncomfortable.  I can’t waste oxygen chatting to Kyle as I need it to break down sausage and bread.  I am feeling as if I am a step or two away from getting a stitch.  It lurks sinisterly under my ribcage, a tightness which cannot be alleviated by pressure or deep breaths.

We haven’t even gone 2 K and I think I may vomit.  On the plus side – my internal battle for blood flow (Stomach or legs? Legs or stomach? – Forget the fingers and toes altogether we have more important things going on!) – has made the start of the hill unnoticeable.  Of course, this gentle incline doesn’t last long and too soon Kyle is really in his element.  Between scrambled eggs and scrambling for breath I can’t keep up.

This.  Will.  Not.  Do.

Ego overrides basic physiological responses – by will power alone, I am not sick and I am not left behind.  Still it takes about 6 K for me to really get into the groove and have my circulation return to my extremities (why didn’t I wear gloves? I curse myself).  Which is just as well because between miles 4 and 5 is the steepest part of the course lovingly labelled as King (or Queen) of the Hill.  Kyle absolutely smashes it – his constant, steady determination leads us both up.  I tell myself I love this hill and weirdly enough it is working.  Now my stomach has finally digested everything I feel good.  Great even.  When the views emerge I am positively exuberant.

“Best run ever!” I tell Kyle, giddy with excitement.  All around us is green and hills and miles of extraordinary countryside in dazzling, splendiferous sunlight.  What makes the route all the more endearing is that literally every inch of this course is smothered with supporters and spectators.  We have our names yelled out constantly, hi fives offered on a steady stream and had I not already eaten so much I could easily have consumed my body weight in jelly babies.  I feel like a superhero – albeit one that cannot eat or drink anything for at least another few hours!

This race was so good.  Heading back into town, downhill and powered by a variety of foodstuffs I am invincible.  The little uphill sections thrown in which derail the other runners Kyle and I seem to glide effortlessly to the top.  Gotta love me some hills.  If anything Kyle is slower downhill, something which takes its toll by 18 K.  There is just 2 K to go but I can see Kyle is at his threshold.  Even so, he hasn’t realised it yet but he is going to destroy his previous record.  In fact it is even going to be close to my personal best.  The final push then, a suicidal sprint to the finish – and I am sadly disappointed it is over.  So soon?  I think.  Once I’d gotten over my indigestion this run was everything a great run should be.  Definitely one to repeat!  Massive thanks to the organisers and the city folk for making it such an incredible day.

Our official finishing times, 2:28:59 (Kyle) and 2:29:00 (Me) – which you have got to hand it to him.  As our finishers medals and t-shirts proclaim – Conquered the Hill!