Sometimes life’s just not fair. When I first looked at the projected weather forecast, 5 days prior to this race, it told me that it would be relatively cool and that there might even be a chance of light rain. So, in many ways ideal conditions for running. But as the day got closer the forecast changed and Sunday brought temperatures in the 20s and no cloud cover. Just what I would have wanted to avoid!
A year ago, the Pontefract 10k was my first race after having surgery to have a pacemaker fitted. Obviously, it brought its own challenges and in the end I was happy to finish in just under an hour. This year, with a lot more runs under my belt – albeit often taking two steps forward to then take two or three back – I was hopeful of a much better time. And then the hot weather decided to put in an appearance.
Last year’s race was meant to be the final one ever, but then late last year someone told me that Pontefract was on again and following a quick online search I found myself entering once more. I’ve ran this race for the last four years now and absolutely love it. There’s always a friendly, welcoming atmosphere, it’s well organised and despite the undulations of the course (so many hills!), it’s just a really enjoyable run.
I do feel a little bit guilty about doing runs like this. In the grand scheme of things it’s not that long ago that I was collapsing in front of my family and scaring the life out of them, so insisting on running these races might be a bit much. However, they in turn insist on coming with me and I know they’ll spend the time between seeing me start and seeing me finish worrying, but at least they can hopefully see that I’m getting stronger and stronger. However we all feel, I’m very grateful for their love and support and it’s always a boost when I see them near the end. Or hear them before I see them as is often the case!
We arrived early this year as we had to pick up my race number, but despite my fears of an enormous queue, it only took a minute or so to sort out. So we found a sunny spot and stood chatting in the sun for a while, with me doing the occasional bit of half-hearted stretching. All the while, at the back of my mind was the thought of exactly how hot it was going to be out on the run, meaning that my usual pre-race nerves were ramped right up.
Before I knew it though, we were shuffling forward and a local DJ was counting us down. And then, we were off! I gave a quick last wave to my family and began to run and gather my thoughts.
Pontefract starts with a long, long hill and every year I have to concentrate hard to pace myself as otherwise I go too fast and then suffer for it in the middle of the race. Today though, I’m still shaking off a bit of a cold and so as a consequence I’m running fairly steadily and hoping that it’ll pay off towards the end when I can really up my pace. Fingers crossed! Even this early though, my mouth was beyond dry, so while I’d half-heartedly told myself that I could run about 51 minutes, the heat was going to make that a tough ask.
Pontefract is a lovely run. It’s largely rural, so for most of the race you’re in the middle of the countryside and I used that a bit today in order to try and forget about the heat. The one problem with this rural landscape is that the chances to run in the shade are few and far between and so while I was slowly baking I tried to take my mind off things by taking in the views. I was kidding myself if I thought it was really going to work though and it wasn’t overly long before the heat was beginning to take its toll.
However, by around the halfway point I had ran for 25 minutes, meaning that a reasonably quick run was in sight. But oh, those pesky hills! There are a number of steep climbs on the way back towards the finish and so, combined with the heat, the second half of the race began to feel quite brutal quite quickly.
I kept checking my watch for both speed and distance covered and stayed really focused, even though I was slowing down with every climb. And then as we reached a hydration point I completely lost focus and slowed right down while trying to grab a bottle of water and then take a few big gulps without throwing the whole thing down myself. It was only when I threw the bottle to one side that I realised that I was jogging and that I should have tipped the remaining water over my head!
As we got close to the finish two things happened – firstly, I could feel a numbness in my wrist and left hand as my hands swelled up (again) in the heat. Off putting to say the least! Secondly though, I managed to find a last bit of energy in order to speed up significantly for the last mile.
As I turned into the final straight before the finish line I just decided to sprint. I knew that my time wasn’t going to be exactly what I’d been aiming for, but I was still well inside the 55 minutes that I’d told my son to expect for me. My legs were like jelly and I was far too hot, but I managed to pass a couple of people before just about staggering over the line!
It’s always a weird feeling finishing a race. I got a little bit emotional after this one last year as it had been the first race since my pacemaker and I was genuinely a little scared about doing it. At other times I’ll feel fairly fresh and be able to wander through the finish enclosure smiling and looking halfway alive still. Today, I revert to what is more or less type for me; shattered. I know I must look an old vagrant and like I might just fall over, but I don’t much care. I’ve done it and I’ve got a huge grin on my face.
So now it’s back to training for me. I’ll have a look at whether there are any other races to enter in the coming months, but in the meantime life outside of work and family will just be about running and recovering. I’m still fully aware that I’ve had a major scare and with the reasoning being that the fitter I am, the stronger I am, it’s just about more of the same.
I’m still here, I’m still able to run and I remind myself of this kind of thing every day! So however shattered I might feel after something like this, it’s still something to smile about.
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