Right, let’s get this out of the way. This is the single
worst race I have ever had the misfortune to run in. Out and out misery, from
beginning to end. Game Over.
…Right
…Have they gone?
This can be our little secret. Lake Vyrnwy is one of the best
Half Marathons in the country, but we can’t be telling everyone. Catch my
drift? I mean, it already sells out every year, despite being in the middle of
nowhere. People coming back
year-after-year. It’s got to be doing something right.
 |
| Lake Vyrnwy is gorgeous |
With the growth of running as a mass-participation sport,
there are becoming fewer and fewer chances to run in what feel like proper
runners races. I have to admit, dear reader, I am one of the ones rolling my
eyes at the start of races with their bouncy-bouncy warmups and “Eye of the
Tiger” jukeboxes. Really, it is just a race, someone indicates go and you all
run as fast as you can until you cross the finish line.
Therefore, races like Vyrnwy HM (and others such as the
Trafford 10K and Capenhurst 5K) give a refreshingly old-school race experience.
By this I do not mean ultra-competitive, or snooty. We are all runners, where
you’re finishing the race in an hour or three hours. Just the main focus on the
day is the race, not the paraphernalia we get around many events. This approach
is obviously successful as club runners attend in their coachloads, literally
coachloads.
Vyrnwy is one of the friendliest races out there, an event
set up and run by the local community, it has a real family atmosphere and all
the facilities you need. Plenty of toilets, showers, changing rooms and cake. A
couple of massage tables, shop stand from Bourne Sports and reasonably priced
race photos from Mick Hall complete the package.
The build up to Vyrnwy has been great. Obviously, the main
focus is Frankfurt and all my training has been geared towards that. I know
that I benefit from a very light taper week in the build up to a race, so I
binned a couple of the easier runs and just id the focused sessions. A light 30
minutes the day before left ne ready to face the challenge.
I say ready, in reality I was completely bricking it. I’d
manages a decent PB there last year of 1:27:54, and after the disappointment of
Liverpool R’n’R Half, my coach was keen for a good result here. That PB worked
out as 6:42 a mile which seemed ridiculously fast for me. Going any faster would mean dropping to a
time that was dangerously close to my 10K pace. In the days leading up to the
race I’d found myself doing endless calculations of what different paces and
times would mean. All this did was scare me even more. With the focus having
been on marathon training, clipping long at MP was very different to a
concerted effort for around 90 minutes.
I gave myself a reality check. I am in my best ever shape
and have had a great summer of running sub-19 5Ks at the Mystery. I can clearly
do something good and just need to control things and not go mad. Having
recently made the switch to working in kilometres, I worked out that my
previous PB was 4:10/Km pace. My dream is to run an 85min Half which is around
4:00/km pace so I gave myself a range of time to ain for of 4:05-4:10, with the
knowledge that 86 minutes is 4:07/km pace
So I had a plan, it seemed fantastical but it was there.
Steve came down with me to the race. It is in a beautiful area.
As usual I probably wasn’t much company. I’d packed us a picnic lunch, which I
started eating at 10:30am so I didn’t have a stitch in the race at 1pm.
We arrived and I got myself ready. I remembered my start-line
faux-pas from last year and made sure I started closer to the front. There were
a few there who were clearly starting too far forward, but I didn’t have to
wade through the field this time. It made the whole race feel very different. It’s
a strange feeling knowing that those running around you are likely to be there
for the whole race.
There was some good banter with the other runners. “I PB’d
last year so no pressure” I joked. The pit of my stomach lurched at the thought.
Soon it was time to go. I was over the chip at in 4 secs from the gun time, a
lot quicker than the 30 odd seconds it took last year, showing how far back I’d
been. The first uphill mile came quickly. You have to tell yourself to hold
back, there was a long way to go. My watch beep the first kilometre 3:50. “Too
Fast, make it Easy” I told myself. There were a couple around me who started to
pull away, but I didn’t want overexcitement in the first mile to cost me later
on.
As soon as we reach the reservoir the race proper starts. I
was determined to run my own race. There are some that like to latch on to
others and ‘race’ them the whole way. I’ve found that doesn’t particularly work
for me as the stress of it sends my adrenaline levels through the roof and uses
up all my energy. A bit of mental work came into play here. It’s a trick I’ve
used successfully before. I imagine I’m running in a giant coloured bubble
shield, kind of like what used to protect Sonic the Hedgehog. That day’s colour
was green to match my new calf guards. Nothing can penetrate the bubble and I
can run on my own terms inside it. Whenever I was feeling scared, the bubble
protected me from what was going on around.
It sounds wacky but it really helps when you’re being pressured by
another runner in a race.
I was focusing on calming down and getting into my rhythm. I
was running this race on feel and the feeling I was looking for was
Threshold-10%. “Make it Easy On Yourself” (cue a song) was my mantra and one
that became important in the early part of the race. Because I wasn’t passing a
lot of people, it was all the more important to ignore the actions of those
around me. There were some who had clearly started to fast and were paying for
it. There were some who would surge and drop back and there were some rockets
who decided to shoot off into the distance.
Ironically, one of the best things you can do running around
Lake Vyrnwy is to ignore Lake Vyrnwy. Start looking over the lake and you
realise how far there is to run. Focus on the road in front (and the Hells
Angels trying to mow you down). Where do they come from?
Handily, I had a Knowsley Harrier sat about 150m ahead of
me. I knew he was a consistent pacer and he wasn’t getting any further away so
it provided a handy visual check. The Kilometres were checking off quite nicely
– they were all 4:0something depending on the slope of the course. Now Vyrnwy
is flat but the road does undulate ever so slightly going round. At the 5Km I
was conscious that I was working a little harder than I‘d expected to be so I
took the opportunity to take on water and check myself over that everyone was
okay.
“Take each Kilometre as it comes” I was telling myself.
At the 6 mile mark there is an uphill incline for about
1200m, just after a water section. I was pleased to reach this point as I like
pushing on up hills and it meant the turning point on the lake wasn’t very far
away. I’d decided just to take one gel with me and have it at the 10K mark. I
took some on board and immediately didn’t feel great. “You’ve got this far
without it and feel alright so crack on” I told myself. I’d had less than half
the gel but held it in my hand until the next water station where I could
dispose of it without littering the country side.
After the turn at the top of the lake, I’d remembered this
was the point last year when it had started to dig in. I kept calm and carried
on doing was I’d been doing up to that point. No changes, no dramas. At this point the km beeps on my watch seemed
to be coming about half way between the mile markers on the course, so it split
the race up into nice easy short sections which was mentally very handy.
This approach paid dividends.
There was a point just after the 7 mile marker when I
realised I was kicking on and passing quite a few people “Shit don’t speed up
now” I panicked. Another group was passed and my watch beeped the next
kilometre. 4:02 it said so I was going
faster than my plan but I was still feeling ‘easy’ so hadn’t let it bother me.
I realised, it wasn’t the fact that I was speeding up, it was that everyone else
was slowing slightly as I had done at the same point the previous year. This
was a MASSIVE boost and I remember thinking to myself “Game On”.
The Knowsley
Harrier who was in front was about 100m or so ahead, an ahead of him was a
massive group of runners. In hindsight I realise this was probably a sub 85
pacing group. I knew the race was going well but I was purposefully not looking
at the total time on my watch. I didn’t want to mess things up now so I carried
on what I was doing.
I properly realised how great I was feeling when I managed a
little joke with the cub and beaver scouts who were manning the water station
at the 15k mark. I discarded the unused gel here and realised it was a little
over 5K to the finish.
Three laps of the mystery. Game On.
There had a Stafford Harrier just in front of me and it had
taken a couple of miles to catch him up. I had expected him to come with me
when I went past but he gave me a word or two of encouragement and I pushed on.
The thing about Vyrnwy is that really you have to think of
it as a 12+1.1 mile race. The last mile descends a hill back to the village. This
means you are willing yourself to mile 12, waiting for the view of the water
tower on the lake signifying you are nearly there.
I can tell you they were a VERY BLOODY LONG TWO MILES. I was
working hard now, but I’d come so far I wasn’t going to mess it up. “Today is
not going to be one of those days” I was screaming to myself in my head. A
couple of guys motored, and I mean motored past me at about mile 11. I had to
blank them out of my memory as it was unusual for something like that to
happen.
I’d expected to see the water tower in the distance but all
of a sudden it was there, next to me. “I’m nearly home, it’s a mile and a half
or so” I told myself. Great crowds were cheering us home at the reservoir, and
s the field it quite strung out you get your own applause. Knowsley was now
about 150m ahead. I knew I wasn’t going to catch him, but he’d hardly been out
of my sight the whole race. I was quite proud of that.
The downhill began and I picked up a bit of steam. It carried
on…and on….and on…and “HOW BLOODY LONG IS THIS HILL!” I was thinking, "I’m
sure they had extended it mid race". I could hear the garble of the tannoy
in the village. Of course, just as your bollocks are about to break at the bottom,
that’s where the race photographer was, another classic.
There’s an evil little kick of a hill at the end which I’d
sworn myself up last year, but it was soon over and I turned into the village.
At this point I looked up and noticed the race clock at the finish line ahead
of me. I couldn’t quite believe it was saying 1:25:02. Because I’d been
focusing on each kilometre independently, I hadn’t taken noticed of all the
extra seconds I was gaining.
It was time for Go-Go-Gadget Courage Legs and I crossed the
line in 1:25:15 in 79th Place out of 1500-ish over the moon. For a
second year I was beaming at the finish.
The runners who finished at the same time were all
congratulating each other and giving thanks for a good race. A couple of them
said some very nice things about my run and tactics which did my ego and
confidence wonders.
This is turning into a must-do race. Just don’t tell
everyone.
