I was
very lucky to get on the entry list for the 15th Water of Leith Half
Marathon, an invitation-only event run (currently?!) by Porties Peter and
Richard. The route is great, and it is
handicapped which makes for a bit of fun – I like races where you have the
opportunity to move through the field and see different people. Oh and, given that it follows a river, it is
downhill from start to finish. I
definitely approve of downhill races!
In order to
set the handicaps, Peter had requested a predicted time, plus details of any
recent halves that entrants had completed.
Hmm, difficult call that – you don’t want to be accused of being a
bandit, but don’t want to entirely shoot yourself in the foot either. It’s been a while since I ran a half, and
that was at last December’s Dunbar RC Festive Half – a similarly informal
invite event. I figured 85 minutes might
be about right – downhill cancelling out the slightly long (13.55 miles)
course. But told Peter I wouldn’t mind
if he made it a little keener to make sure I wasn’t accused of sandbagging. Sitting at home on Wednesday night I was
feeling generous, and thinking that it would be nice to have a bimble with the
camera.
After
boarding Peter’s Venga Bus from the finish to the start, the numbers were
passed back with the handicap sheet. I
was horrified to find that I was very close to last off, with Stuart, on 83
minutes. Surely some mistake! What with the extra length, I would
effectively have to run a PB (currently 81:36) to meet my handicap. A scan of the other names revealed that I was
giving away time to luminaries such as Lucy C and Nicola D – both much better
runners, albeit that they have respectively taken a bit of a step back from
competition, and been injured. Christ –
I was giving Willie J 4 minutes, despite beating him by mere seconds at last
year’s Barry Buddon race, and that only because he was suffering with the heat
having forgotten to bring a hat! I
definitely couldn’t afford to take the camera.
As you can see, carping about your handicap is also part of the
fun! In all seriousness though,
handicappers have an impossible and thankless task – if I can’t work out my own
likely time, what the hell kind of chance did Peter have (x65!)?
After the
customary group photo on the bridge, I tried (in vain) to keep warm, while watching
as wave after wave of talented runners departed ahead of me.
I was
concerned that we might accidentally get an even worse handicap when our starter/producer/director
fell into a conversation while Stuart and I were on the line. Erm, how long to go Peter (nudge nudge)? Oh, um, 15 seconds.
In
typical handicap fashion, we blasted away on the first mile – desperate to reel
in some of the gap as quickly as possible.
And equally desperate to get the comfort of knowing that we were on the
right track, notwithstanding how much flour Peter had dumped on the
course. The first mile flashed up at
5:40, and the second at 5:55. And still
Stuart dropped me not long after we passed Balerno High School – he was a man
on a mission!
The
course was very muddy indeed from all of the recent rain and I could only watch
as Stuart sploshed off into the distance, making no attempt to find a dry
line. I heard one dog walker remark to
his wife (after looking at Stuart’s filthy legs) that he should fit
mudguards! Before long I found myself in
total (if not glorious) isolation, and began to wonder how long it would be
before I was caught by former EAC clubmate (when I was a kid) Drew, himself
starting a further 4 minutes adrift.
The
answer came much quicker than I’d hoped – inside of 6 miles!! Drew was absolutely flying, but still managed
to make it look effortless. But then we
are talking about someone who in his youth won an athletics scholarship to a US
college. Shortly afterwards I noted that
I’d managed 38:30 for the first 10k, which I was reasonably pleased with. Which
meant that Drew had done it in… wow!
Another
runner in a blue top (it would turn out to be Martin) passed me on the way into
the park at Saughton. Damn, already 3 places
(on the basis that I’d started level with Stuart and was now well behind)
dropped.
It wasn’t
until the bowling green at Balgreen that I finally passed someone myself – a
Carnethy who didn’t quite get the rub of the pelican crossing, allowing me to
catch him faster than I should have.
The pace
had started to drop pretty noticeably – perhaps as a result of the furious
early pace, perhaps as a consequence of having been passed and knowing that I
was no longer in the running for the win (arf!), or perhaps as a result of
still suffering from over-racing. In any
event, I was still working hard, determined not to throw in the towel. I reckoned that finishing in 85 minutes was
still possible, and that would at least match my pre-race estimate.
The
marshals at Roseburn Terrace were fantastic with their lollipop sign that
absolutely didn’t exist, and certainly wasn’t being misused. Oh no.
I had a
moment of concern at Dean Village where I was sure I had missed a turn, as the
path seemed to be leading directly into the water. Happily I pressed on and found a flour arrow
marking a sharp left that had been obscured by a bridge.
On the
run down to Stockbridge I passed Porty Jim R and Maureen. Jim was extremely apologetic when he timed a
nose-blast perfectly onto my leg. As I
told him afterwards, there was likely to be much worse on my legs given how
well-used the paths are by dogs and horses.
And I was now back to evens (or so I thought) in terms of places lost
and gained.
I saw Michael
G between Stockbridge and Canonmills, and he quickly realised that I was
struggling. 7 minute miles were about
all I could muster at this stage.
But I
took another runner (an HBT I think) just before heading into the park at
Bonnington Road.
Joining
the main cycle path parallel to Ferry Road, and now into the final mile or so,
I could suddenly see 5 or 6 runners laid out ahead of me. Finally some hares to chase! I managed to get by them before we rejoined
the river, but could then hear the approach of some very fast feet from behind
– Martin and his blue top again! He must
have gone pretty far wrong somewhere to have lost that much time to me. He was still much fresher than I was though,
and there was simply no point in trying to sprint to hold him off.
 |
| (photo: Peter) |
 |
| Happy Porties |
 |
| Speedy Drew |
 |
| Speedy David (non-runner today, other than his customary ParkRun win) |
 |
| Muddy Stuart |
 |
| Happy Stuart |
I enjoyed the chat and the excellent free food afterwards (the carrot soup, parsnip soup, scones, and fruit cake all hit the spot), before moving on to the pub for the prize giving. Where we were treated to a very amusing speech by Jim from Stornoway, one of the originators of this race. I get the impression that he had plenty more material he could have called upon if required!
Big
congratulations to the prize-winners.
Lucy won, going almost 7 minutes better than her handicap! Fastest run of the day came, perhaps
unsurprisingly from Drew. First team (taking
over from Dr Neil and his fellow FUDS) was a team which included Peter’s friend
Ben, who had had a brush with serious illness early this year – great that he
is back running and winning. Stuart had
a good run, making a much better fist of matching our shared (aggressive!)
handicap. Dr Neil was, quite rightly,
handicapped to oblivion given his win last year.
A great
event this, and one which I’d love to do again (and do more justice) next year,
if I’m lucky enough to be invited back.
I wonder if the handicap committee is open to bribery…
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