Plus my left shin has taken a bit of time to recover from the whack it took at the Lairig Ghru. Jo's assessment is that the collection of lumps I have on my left leg (including what I think must have been a chipped bone from a fall on rocks last year) now have it looking like a series of vertebrae. If Butlins still go in for knobbly knee contests then I need to get myself there tout de suite. Or "sweet toot" as my Gran used to say on French holidays to our huge amusement.
But most importantly, I've taken no photos at all. And no one enjoys a blog without pictures.
Anyway, I'll try to fill in as quickly as possible - focussing on races and only the most interesting training runs.
First up, back on Wednesday 1 July, was the East Lothian Summer Series Race at Longniddry. I almost didn't go at all as I had a meeting scheduled from 5 to 6pm, but in the end thought "f#ck it" and decided to take that on the phone in the car. Nevertheless, I still turned up with the wrong head on - torn between racing and "just having a fast training run". I managed about half a mile before the red mist descended and thought "oh no, I'm too far back here". After closing the gap to those in front, I found myself in a bit of a ding-dong battle with clubmate Jamie, Mike J from Musselburgh, and Mike L from Carnethy. I was telling myself that I was well placed at the back of the group - just ready to pounce with my legendary(!) kick - when we encountered "the horse". Now contrary to what Facebook says, the girl was in no way thrown from her horse. In fact, she was standing on the ground and holding it on the leash(?), when it reared up at the sight of us and made off down the path. I heard later that she'd actually been given fair warning that 50 runners were about to pile down the track towards her, but elected to carry on regardless. Any guilt I feel is therefore owed to Jamie, Mike and Mike as I ploughed on without so much as breaking stride. I put it down to the fact that I ride motorbikes and have a relatively limited imagination. Mike L said later that he could see a hoof to the head, and promptly dived into the bushes. Jamie almost stopped entirely, out of sympathy for the rider (his mum has horses). I felt pretty bad on the drive home - Jamie seeming a mixture of hurt and angry that I didn't stop, for which I can only apologise. After that, the results are pretty academic/hollow.
Next up, after a useful 18 miler with Stuart on Sunday the 5th (trying to maintain some semblance of marathon fitness across the summer), was the Kelso 10k on Sunday the 12th. I underestimated the travel time and got parked (having spotted Steve P with his number in hand) only 30 minutes before the start, which, coupled with an inability to find the rugby club, left me in a bit of a flap. Although it was nice to drive past Kelso races, and the scene of my one and only race win in the last 25 years!
At the start I was swept along in the wake of Rab W and the fast Porties (David, Michael, Andy, Peter and Dougie). Despite the initial incline over the first mile, I was reasonably well-placed and my average pace was in the right sort of range.
With a sense of deja vu, I realised that I was mixing it with Mike J and clubmate David. So far, so Dechmont Law/Longniddry. While I've been aware of David for some time (obviously), Mike J is a newer face to me - looking back at results over the last year it appears that he has taken a big step up of late, which is no doubt just reward for hard work in training.
In any event, both passed me on the muddy/puddly section past the front of Floors Castle at around 5k. First Mike (who I noticed has a nice forefoot strike - fast and graceful looking), followed shortly after by David. David, as ever and to his credit, suggested that we work together. He looked much too strong and I simply wished him well.
We then came to what had been described as the "short and sharp hill" at 6k. Porty Andy (2nd at Longniddry) was unexpectedly walking around at the foot of it (his calf apparently blown) which distracted me a bit from what was to come. It may have been sharp, but it certainly didn't seem short. And it was a rocky trail to boot. After wrestling with the thought that I should walk up it (as Pete said afterwards, "On a 10k! You've been doing too many ultras!"), I managed to get back past Mike, and shortened the distance to David.
But that was how we stayed until the finish. I was much more focused on whether Mike was coming back past me than trying to catch David in front - if anything he just drew further ahead.
Checking my watch at the finish brought what can only be described as an "oh shit" reaction - how/why am I that slow? My slowest time for a 10k for 2 years. Excuses about slow courses and hills only go so far. I enjoyed the chat afterwards, including with Graham H, who had come out specially to "support" ("G: Hey Nick, how are you? N: I feel shit. G: You look shit! Only 1200m to go..."), but sloped off feeling no better about my current short course prowess.
My funk started to dissipate on Tuesday though thanks to a combination of a really excellent club run, coupled with the knowledge that I'd be picking Jo up from the airport on Wednesday. The club run really couldn't have been better. Stuart had checked the tides and saw that we'd have a very low one which would allow a longer run to Tyninghame and then across the Tyne and the mussel beds back to John Muir. We had a stunning night for it, and good company with David along for the ride.
Which brings us to the Musselburgh 10k today (18 July). The weather forecast had been consistently terrible all week and for once it was accurate (the Open golf was suspended on account of it being too windy - apparently balls were being blown off their spots on the greens). Jo said that she'd never seen me look so unenthusiastic on the way out to a race before. A short warm up with Rhona and Andy confirmed how stiff the breeze was - almost rocking you back on to your heels at times on the exposed first mile of the course.
But once you've entered you might as well give it a go.
After the usual hurly burly round the playing field we headed out in the wind towards the harbour at Fisherrow. Peter, Willie and Michael G from Porty were directly ahead and, as I was alone, I spent more energy than was probably wise trying to catch them so that I could get a TdF-style draught. I couldn't catch them.
After the turn at a mile, the wind became favourable, and I made the most of it all the way out towards Mrs Foremans.
I was losing distance to the Portys (with 3 EACs coming past as well), but my Garmin suggested the pace was still below 6m/m, so I tried to rein myself in and not completely bury myself in keeping up.
I got to the outpoint feeling surprisingly fresh for a change (but well aware that by far the worst of the race was yet to come). A chap in all black was breathing down my neck as we crossed the duckboards shortly after Rab's marshalling point. That became my "thou shalt not pass" moment.
Working into the wind, I noticed that the "Kiwi" started to sound less close, and Michael G and Willie appeared to be getting closer. I made my mind up to try to bridge the gap to them. On doing that, I sat for a moment or two, not wanting to push on past, realise that I'd been benefitting from the windbreak and then slip back with my tail between my legs. But push on while I did and, curiously, it stuck.
And then I realised that Peter (Peter!) suddenly didn't look so far ahead. I should explain that last year I managed my PB on this course (36:44 - CHUFFED!), and Peter still finished ahead of me by a good 30 seconds. But, after a further minute or so, it was clear that I was definitely making ground. I'm not sure why that would be - perhaps I have decent leg strength, or have a low to the ground shuffling style that counters the wind, or perhaps all of the Portys were simply tired after a really tough Wednesday night session.
In any event, I drew alongside Peter, we had a brief chat and ran together towards the Electric Bridge, before I steeled myself to push on in pursuit of the Carnegie ahead.
A final blast into the wind brought us out onto the playing field, where I consciously put the hardest pass on the Carnegie I could muster ("don't even think about coming back at me!"), before the run into the finish.
I crossed the line a full minute slower than last year, but studying last year's results reveals that a large number of people (including race winner Andrew Douglas) were also a minute slower, so maybe that is today's "par" rating. And (without wishing to blow too much smoke up their arses) any time you finish a 10k ahead of the likes of Peter and Willie can't be bad.
Mojo restored? We'll see. If nothing else, Jo is back.
I'll sign off by intimating that a significant event is on the horizon - my 40th birthday next Saturday. Significant because it brings my entrance into the V40 category. I'm celebrating by taking part in the Tour of Fife series - hope to see you there!
Happy Birthday on Saturday - life begins and all that. And looking forward to the Tour - it was a blast last year.
ReplyDeleteThanks Pete. I'm looking forward to it as well. The offer of lifts is on the table, including for Michael, so PM me on facebook if you want to take it up.
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