I signed up to the Reading Half because a mate was meant to be running it and I thought it would be good fun to go round together.  Tom, is a lot faster than me but, in his own words “past 15 K it ceases to be easy”. Thus it would certainly make for some interesting racing.  Speed vs Endurance, Ego vs Ego, just a bit of fun, followed by an indulgent lunch and maybe a round or two of Settlers of Catan (*side note I adore playing board games).  Unfortunately for Tom he fell over playing badminton and fractured a metatarsal. No running for at least 2 months, what every runner wants to hear as they enter their taper period – said no runner ever.

I was gutted for him but also a little relieved, he was wanting to run a sub 1:50, and I haven’t been close to that pace in a while, favouring long slow runs almost exclusively for the last couple of months.  In addition, 8 days prior we had run 30 miles as a PB, then flown to Lapland and had 4 nights in the Arctic Circle, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, husky mushing, evading a rouge reindeer, late nights, early mornings, no recovery type holiday (yes – it was indeed amazing) – but basically Andreas and I were not exactly rocking up to the Reading half well rested ready to slash 3 minutes from a PB.

In fact, that morning I had a random onset thigh/upper groin pain even before the run commenced! Should have paid more attention to that, but, alas I did not.  Weirdly enough, circumstances presented another friend who happened to be running as well (also sub 1:50 group!) – However I knew better than to try and keep up.

At least I thought I did.

I have a race strategy, I know what works for me, yet, that day – ego, carelessness, whatever you want to call it, definitely got the better of me.  After the Amersham Ultra you’d think I would learn some caution, but apparently not.  Rather than following my usual proven routine – that is starting slow and going faster if it feels good later on – I threw that plan away and went with steady pacing (running everything at the target pace).  That is, to run a sub 1:50 you need to run 5:11 min/K – so that is what I would start running at.

Dear Readers, it takes my body about 6 K to warm up.  Even to this day my body resists running.  It will huff and puff and fake aches and generally try and dissuade me from continuing, especially when trying to go fast.  I just suck it up.  Tell myself the moment will pass and you know what?  It always does.  About 6 K in my body surrenders to my will and things are noticeably easier. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some bodily cooperation over shorter distances, but generally for the half distance (and even some of the Ultras) my fastest 5 K is the last 5 K. Confused? Andreas thinks so, like, if I could go faster why didn’t I start out running faster…? And maybe I could, maybe I should, but subconsciously I think I hold back to make sure I can actually go the distance.  If there is just 5 K to go… Well, I can definitely make that! So you see it is easier to rip up the road.

So even knowing that I would benefit from a slower start, for some reason, I decided to just go for it.  I think maybe I was curious what would happen.  If I could make it to 6 K at 5:11 min/K pace then surely I could go the remaining 15 K…?

I made it 3 K, then well, forget it.  It seemed like after that I was just chasing wind.  3 K happened to coincide with my headphones breaking, so maybe if Dance with the Dead had kept playing this tale would have a different turnout – but I doubt it. That is a really fast pace for me and I hadn’t trained for speed.  Even without Tom there to run with us, I was still mentally racing him.  He runs a 21:30 5 K, I can run a 25:30 5 K – it was never going to happen unless I PACED myself – and I am usually good at pacing.  Oh well.

I didn’t blow up or anything drastic like that.  It just felt really hard.  I kept overheating again (this time I was wearing a vest and shorts but it didn’t seem to help) and did the thing where you pour water over your head and face like an elite.  But having a wet head was only a temporary fix.  Soothing in the moment but a minute later I was back to feeling like an inferno.  What are my hormones up to? I’ve been asking myself that a lot this month.  Or maybe it’s the extra 2 kg I’ve gained since Christmas?  Okay, 2.5 kg. Whatever. Argh.

Anyway, I’ve given up on a new PB by 8 K, since the 1:50 pacer has just whizzed by with a flamboyant and unforgiving flourish but I haven’t given up on a sub-2 time.  Even if its 1:59 I think I will be really happy.  Head down and crack on.

I wish I could tell you details of the course, but honestly I’m not sure I looked.  I remember there were a lot of spectators cheering which was nice, lots of kids offering high 5s and a generous amount of jelly babies.  There were a few hills, I think, a hospital, a bit of greenery, an underpass… and a long bridge just as we approached the finish.  The ground of Reading though I can tell you is mostly fraying tarmac, tired concrete or the occasional spot of cobbles.  Andreas can describe it better since he decided to wear his barefoot style running shoes and felt every little indent!

The finish was the most memorable, nothing like crossing the line in a packed stadium, even if the girl in purple I’d secretly been racing beat me in the final steps! I’d lost Andreas a few kilometres back so I decided to grab some water and wait for him.  As soon as I stopped I knew I’d pushed too hard.  I was aching way too much for a half marathon.  That random thigh pain? Back with vengeance. I will struggle to fall asleep that night because every time I move my right leg, it feels like something is deeply out of place.  I won’t be able to contemplate running for another 9 days and when I do that thigh pain will niggle at me. Oh dear.

Even so, 1:57:23 is not bad right?