Runner's Guide to Racecraft

One of the most pleasurable things about training for the last couple of years has been the realisation that most people develop and ‘learn’ how to race. There can be a big difference in a runner when training and then sticking them on a start line of a race. Even the most hardy of runners can crumble under the pressure.

It should be simple, you do the same thing you do in training, just a bit faster.

Of course, the reality is often somewhat different. A myriad of thought, emotions and experiences manifest themselves in the mind of our nervous racer. This is something I have suffered with for a number of years.

It may not be massively profound, but hopefully some will find the following tips, found out the hard way, of some use.

1. It’s A -> B

I know you’ve got a cacophony of noise swirling around your head, but you need to silence it. Imagine a calm, serene lake in the glens of Scotland. Calm those troubled waters .You are here to travel from Point A to Point B (which is sometimes Point A again). Ignore everything else.

2. I mean that, ignore everything else

Unless you are lucky enough to be at the front of the field vying for a podium position, you don’t need to worry about anyone else.

Your club mate who always beats you?              Forget Them.

The people who sneak up on you mid race when you are most tired?        Forget Them/

The school bullies who have stopped whatever they were doing at that moment and travelled over to the race to heckle from the sidelines?

Deffo Forget Them

None of these people matter. It’s just you and your race plan.

3. HAVE A RACE PLAN

This is vital. Whatever the distance, you should form your plan early and then make your target on the day to execute that plan. It should not (in most cases) be “GO OUT AS HARD AS I CAN AND HANG ON FOR GRIM DEATH” (also known as the Maguire Supposition). When the going gets tough, you can turn all your thoughts to your race plan and how much of it you have achieved so far.

4. Ignore Everyone Else!

You may be detecting a theme here…

Unless it is a safety instruction, ignore other runners comments on time, pace, distance, feel, attractiveness of the squirrels, attractiveness of other runners (unless it is about you), breathing patterns, weather and everything else. The number of times I’ve been fed erroneous information…It’s a mind game, treat it as such.

5. Take it easy

The more I race, the more I realise a sensible pace should not leave you feeling like death after the first kilometre of a 5Km race.

I’ll use our local 5K race as an example.

It is a 3 x 1 mile loop and as such splits the race nicely into Start, Middle and End. When nailing my PB, I knew the feel I wanted as I raced  - I call it my ‘float’. Ignoring numerical pace, I concentrated on maintaining this feel. At the end of the first lap I still felt good and was starting to worrying that maybe I was going too slow. Fortunately, the race officials were shouting the 1 mile split times so I knew I was spot on. The second lap was harder in terms of effort but it was a gradual increase before coming round for the final lap. At that point, most people may be a bit ‘kitchen sink’, but by making the early stages of the race easier for yourself, you are more likely to have the last little bit of reserve for…

“GO GO GADGET, COURAGE LEGS”  - (thanks to Anna Railton for that)

Courage Legs (with 50m to go)

6. There can be too much respect

There may come a point in the race when you find yourself in, or just behind, a group you recognise a being a little faster than you are used to. It is so easy to think “Oh they are much faster than me…I must be going too fast…MAYDAY MAYDAY etc” But you have no idea what their race plan is, their current state of health or fitness. Do not show them too much respect. If you think you can pass them without messing up your race plan – go for it, put your raceface on and slowly reel them in.

7. K.I.S.S.

When entering the Hurt Locker, take everything back-to-basics. Concentrate on good form, the position of your head, placing of the body, relaxed shoulders, putting one foot in front of the other. I think back to my ‘float’.  More accurately, I think to myself “Where’s your f***in float Hawkins?” and also “What would Colin say?”. That’s a whole other post in itself…

8. Be Kind to Yourself

If it has gone well, it doesn’t mean you are suddenly the greatest racer in a pair of shorts. If it has gone a bit wrong, it is not the end of the world. There are so many races out there, you’ve just got some valuable experience under your belt.

9. You think you can’t – You can

Most people are not natural racers, it can take years of practice. There is plenty of time to get it right.

I used to hate racing, but I’m growing to love it, one race at a time.

The Comedown

Well done, you’re reached the finish line. Your back has been slapped and the medal hung round your neck. The warm glow of achievement makes you feel all fuzzy for a few days and you get to relate tales of mid-race turmoil and heroics to friends and loved ones.

In the flush of excitement that comes with the completing of a big event, what is often forgotten is what happens when all the bunting is taking down and the race medals are safely packed away. A lot of people find themselves at a bit of a loss and you’ll often see sportspeople of all types hastily signing up to the next big challenge in an effort to counteract the low that often follows the finish line high.

I’ll be honest, it’s where I find myself currently, dear reader. I can readily admit to you that emotional steadiness is a bit of an alien concept at TrainandScoff Mansions (outdoor pool, room for a pony). From my earliest memories, I’ve always been a bit of a slave to emotions (something I think runs though the family). The ‘emotion volume dial’ is consistently turned right the way up to +1, or down to -11, without much in between. Don’t get me wrong, I love being happy, and the sound of laughter is one of the greatest things known to humankind, but teamed with that I’ve never been able to shake off a certain melancholia that strikes at the most inopportune moments. 

Melancholy is rubbish – also known as being a mardy git. You try and fight it, but you can feel yourself slip into the darkness. In my own case, it feels like a bit of colour drains from the world and everything is a bit monochrome. I’ve got tried and tested strategies to get out if it, mainly involving retreating into my introverted world, listening to my favourite songs which always, eventually, makes thing seem slightly better. Not particularly helpful for those around me, but it works.

One of the reasons that I took to running so readily what that it was one of the few activities that even-ed my head out. The physical act of pounding the pavements was the one time when my brain became quiet and I could approach the world with some sort of clarity. Maybe that’s why I didn’t take to rowing so readily - the melting pot that is the squad environment is hard to take for the emotionally fragile. It was only when I had the stability of a good crew around me that I found I was able to flourish.

Reading various blogs from runners and other sportspeople, it’s clear I’m not along in all this, and I’m sure if you’d ask most they wouldn’t exchange the highs and lows for a general medium for anything. The highs can be so damn good. So, so good that they become addictive, you find that you live for and chase those moments. Is that why people strive for ever bigger distances? I hope not, because what happens when even the longest ultra-race doesn’t give you the ‘kick’ you are after.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. As I get older I get better at finding coping mechanisms. I fight back. I don’t always win, but I try my hardest. If I’m being a bit quiet, it’s nothing personal , just working through ma-shit. Will be with you shortly.

A Memory Stirs

It was a post from running marvel and nicest-guy-you’ll-ever-meet Brad that did it. He mentioned running through his old school grounds and banishing demons.

I gripped the kitchen worktop as my head whirled and the ‘Nam-style flashbacks lined up to punch my brain like that scene in Full Metal Jacket. To say I hated PE at school would be an understatement. I truly detested PE at school.  Until the later years, when they would just shove a badminton racket I our hands and throw us in the gym, it was just a weekly lesson in humiliation.

I think I may still hold the record for the longest continuously in-growing toenail in School history.

I still remember turning up in horror one day to find that as we’d missed the mass race the week before, we had to run 1500m. There were three of us, basically the Top, Middle and bottom of the school hierarchy. I’d never run more than 10 years in my life. The PE teacher half snarled “I’m expecting three very different time from you three” and set us off. So I ran and ran and ran and after 200m found myself on my own miles back from the other two. Other kids were doing sports round the outside of the grass track we were running on. Seeing my lug my hefty bulk round the field caused hilarity all round. I’d never felt so humiliated and just wanted the ground to swallow me up (and give me a snack), so after 600m, yes you read that right 600m, I stopped with a ‘stitch’.

The other end of scale for my PE experiences was Cross-Country. Now my school was in the middle of a housing estate.  There was a big playing field (remember those) and absolutely NO HILLS. I only ever remember us doing ‘XC’ once and it involved running down the road to a teacher who was acting as a lamppost, back to the school round the playing fields and then repeat as a second lap. We all set off and I quickly found myself trailing at the back as usual, the distances seemed massive at the time but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of miles. I think I was lapped by the winners just as I was starting the second lap. I headed down to the teacher ‘lamppost’ and remember run/walking back with him towards the school; it would have been clear there was no one behind me. I think everyone was stretching off as I started my way around the playing fields. And I limped home in a time that I still remember was double the amount of time it took Kevin Harris (our year’s best runner) to do the same course. 

The reason I remember the XC though is that it was a positive memory in that I didn’t give u;. Yes I huffed and puffed, yes I was last, yes I walked most of it but I still finished. When we were all gathered afterwards, me still panting, (everyone else showered, changed, having had a double maths lesson….) we had to shout out our times. I actually felt pride in shouting out my impossibly slow time. It was the one and only time I posted a result in my school athletic career and nobody could take it away from me.

School PE isn’t Sport – It is crowd control. Until we tackle this we are destined to become a nation of ever more obese TV watchers. No one encouraged me to take part in sport at School, why would they? I was rubbish. But the lack of belief and knock of confidence those horrible days showered on me, it took another 15 years before I dared dip my toe into the sporty waters.

And the rest is history...

Fuck You PE, Fuck You.

Are You Serious?

We’re a funny lot us runners.

Ever more people seem to be taking up serious training for their preferred sport with large amounts of gusto. We band of enthusiastic amateurs find ourselves embarking on the sort of training that can make some professionals blush. We can buy mountains of kit, coaching support, massage and physiotherapy and we juggle multiple training sessions a day with family life, day-to-day living and often stressful jobs. I don’t think it would be too much of a stretch of the imagination of infer that those willing to train eight times a week are often going to be equally motivated in their professional lives.

However, there’s an elephant in the room that is rarely discussed. At our level, really is it worth all that? When it comes to it, we are what is stated above, amateurs.

How many of you can honestly say you haven’t been at your desk on a Monday morning, almost having to scrape yourself off the floor to get through a day that no amount of Berrocca can rescue. 

Now I don’t subscribe to the ‘too cool for school’ philosophy that looks down on those trying hard. Some are blessed with wonderful natural athletic ability, others (myself included) are most definitely not and have to work for it. I will never put someone down for being keen. The fact that someone is clearly passionate about a sport is a great thing. 

But it’s a fine line between keenness and obsessiveness. I sometimes wonder if we should wind our neck in occasionally. There’s no need to spend HOUR AFTER HOUR searching the net for training tips and it’s not the end of the world if one particular 300m split is a second or two slower than the others. 

We often deny ourselves social interaction because it will interfere with training. In fact our lives are often dictated by our training schedules. But ff you want that night out, sausage roll, cake or bottle of wine, FFS have it and don’t beat yourself up over it. 

In running we talk about finding ‘flow’, I would argue that the flow of life should include indulgences whenever and wherever you want them. For God’s sake, life (and training) is hard enough.

Train like a Champion, just don’t be Martyr.

Shoe Review - Mizuno Wave Rider 17

Shoe Review – Mizuno Wave Rider 17

Some love affairs are all-consuming passion fests, which leave you panting and wanting more. The previous Wave Rider 16, was thus. I was in raptures on every run. The feel was great, the shoe was light and the colour schemes bold and funky (please can we have another yellow Mizuno).

With news that the 17 was going to be even lighter, and with more of a ‘racing’ profile, I was salivating at the thought, and couldn’t wait for the release date to come round. Soon after Xmas 13, I got my order in and duly received my 17s in all their pure white glory.

There was only one small problem, I found I wasn't really liking them.

When I took them out for a run, they felt clunky and inflexible. The toebox seemed to have acres of spare room.  I was expecting a close-fitting racing machine and got a comfy sofa. But having shelled out nearly £100 for trainers, I wasn’t going to bin them after 20 or so miles, so I persevered. 

Ever so subtly, my feeling about the shoe began to change. The cushioning on long runs was welcome and I felt supported in grinding out the miles. 50-60 mile weeks weren’t a problem and there was little obvious wear on the shoes. Speed work ticked along at impressive paces. Instead of feeling like blocks of iron on my feet, I noticed I began to have a spring in my step.

Whatever I was throwing at the Wave Rider 17, they were coping admirably. I ran the Northern 12-Stage Relays in them and was on 5K PB pace. I got a 10K PB in them and a longed-for Sub 40. Over the course of time I realised, I absolutely love this shoe, it’s a proper all-rounder.

In the midst of my initial grump with the WR17, I purchased some Adidas Boston 4 and Adizero Boosts. They were both great shoes, feeling fast out of the box, but in the grand scheme of things they didn’t give me anything that I wasn’t getting from the WR17. Also, being a bit of the small side I decided to sell them on.

After 500 miles, Mizuno have done me proud. Whilst I’m still a believer that it’s not shoes that make you fast, Training makes you fast. But to have a pair of shoes that you have faith in can go a long way to helping you achieve your PBs. 

It takes a little while to grow into the Wave Rider 17, but once you do, you’ll be smitten.