I’m experiencing a rare feeling of quiet optimism as I get to the start line of this year’s Leeds 10k. For once, training has gone surprisingly well and I’ve not been plagued with colds or illness of any kind. No aches or pains of any consequence and no injuries. I am however still fully aware of my age, my heart and my body, so while I’m relaxed as we wait to get going, I’m not kidding myself about my capabilities!
Once we get going, having practically crawled our way through the start, it doesn’t take me long to realise that I feel really relaxed. I’m keeping an eye on my pace and fully aware that I’m probably caught up in the atmosphere and running a little bit too quick, but it doesn’t feel bad at all. Sure enough, my first mile is done in a decent time. I’m not quite in James Brown form at this stage, but I feel good!
Our next stage is a little more uphill and I know I’ve slowed down, but it’s not significantly so. I still feel relaxed and continue to do so for the next couple of miles too.
Up to this point there has been plenty of support out on the course, which is always the case. Leeds is a big, friendly run and people make an effort to come out and offer lots of encouragement. So while for miles 2-3 there’s someone running with a speaker playing Maroon 5 amongst other abominations, there are plenty of spectators out calling out names, offering us high fives and just generally being lovely.
There’s also a bloke running near me at this point who seems to think it’s his job to motivate us – shouting stuff like ‘Get your breathing back, NOW!’ and warning us when there’s a photographer near for some reason. I stay relaxed but can genuinely say that I find this kind of thing really off-putting. Mate, my breathing’s ok, cheers and I genuinely don’t care if someone takes my photo and I look like I’m putting a bit of effort into running. Stop shouting!
Before you turn for ‘home’, so to speak, there’s a big hill to run up. Living where I live, I’m used to hills but usually still find them hard in a race. Today feels different though and while I don’t charge up it, it’s only in the last 20 yards or so where I’m really slowing down. And the bonus is, we get to run back down it on the other side of the road.
At this point I notice that the 55 minute pacers are climbing the hill while I’m descending, but for the first time in the run I’m aware of them and know that I have to keep going to stay ahead of them.
The last three miles or so are spent mainly on Meanwood Road, which is largely just a straight run. It’s pretty much a steady downhill as well; something I didn’t really realise until afterwards when I saw the elevation of the route on a map! I’m content just to keep going at the same pace while keeping an eye on my watch knowing that I there are two hills to come on the way into Leeds and that these would definitely slow me down. I still feel fairly relaxed and strong though.
It’s the final hill that gets me though! It comes more or less straight after the first one on the approach to Leeds and by that point my legs are struggling. Having got to the top I then get a little confused as to exactly what’s left, thinking that the finish is round one corner when in fact it’s the next one. At this point someone shouts out, ‘Don’t let those pacers catch you’ and I know that those 55 minute pacers can’t be far behind. It’s definitely time to kick on!
My kids are waiting just above the finish and it’s fantastic to see them, but by this point I’m fighting, knowing that the seconds are ticking down and that it would be touch and go to get in under 55 minutes. And in the end, despite as much of a sprint finish as I could muster, I missed out by 15 seconds, finishing in 55 minutes and 14 seconds. Damn those last couple of hills!
As will happen at the end of a race, I cramp up quite quickly in my calves and hamstrings so it’s just a case of finding some space for a bit of a stretch before keeping moving in order to collect a well earned goody bag, medal and t-shirt. Whatever age I get to and however many runs I manage to complete, I’ll never tire of a medal and a t-shirt!
After that it’s just a case of heading up to Millennium Square to meet my kids where, despite now being 19, my daughter charges across the square screaming and gives me a huge hug, followed by more muted congratulations from my son. Both knock the medal and t-shirt down into 2nd and 3rd place respectively in my list of rewards.
A few days later and I still can’t get those rogue 15 seconds out of my head. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased with my time. But the competitive side of me still wants to be running faster! Luckily, there’s always a next time. So for now it’s a case of keeping on training until my next race in October.
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