Another race entered at more or less the last minute after a gentle nudge from St. Helens Striders' Stuart Tagg. As I mention this I tell myself, for roughly the seven hundredth time, that I should join a running club. Problem is, I do most of my running at the crack of dawn, before our house of 3 young daughters and one wife bursts into life. I simply can't be bothered of an evening after a day at work and getting the aformentioned young ladies to bed. As most clubs train in the Primary Schoolgirl bedtime zone, it ain't for me. Perhaps I should start one of my own. I could incorporate 'Aurora' into the name and have that early 2000s trance tune of the same name as a kind of club theme tune. That's one for the people who sit in the Venn Diagram overlap of fans of Roman Mythology and fans of Trance Nation 2000(ish).
Anyway, where was I? Yes, the Liverpool leg of the Rock 'n' Roll half marathon series and my 11th hour entry. I've been injured on and off since Christmas and not been able to get going. After doing precisely nothing for about 4 weeks to let it fix properly I'd been back running for about 5 weeks. I'd never felt fitter or faster so I thought I'd hit the road to race.
Sunday morning arrived in glorious fashion. Brilliant early sunshine reminiscent of that early morning warmth you get on your holidays. That feeling of being in another world completely away from your own culture as you walk down the road to buy your Daily Mirror, Warburton's bread and Heinz beans.
I ran the marathon here a couple of years ago and thought it was a brilliantly organised event with a unique atmosphere. this year was much the same. Friendly faces were everywhere, be they competitor, supporter, staff or wild smackhead screaming 'Get this f******event out of our city' from the backseat of a taxi which Stuart told me about later. My only gripe this year was the lack of changing facilities in the Echo Arena. Last time, an area was set aside for changing but this wasn't the case this year. It might be my fault. I never bother to read the race details. Anyway, I quite enjoyed changing in the middle of a crowded toilet with my feet getting soaked in the puddles. They were water. They were water. They were water.
The start line was suitably choc-a-bloc for such a big event. I'd ambitiously put a predicted finishing time of 1:30 on the entry form, despite a previous PB of 1:33:38. In 2014. That meant I was in Corral No. 1. which went off 2nd. Don't know what the corral which went of first was called. Similar system to the footie I suppose where the 3rd Division is inexplicably called League One.
After much local radio style, ahem, 'banter', we were off. I'd set my watch to aim for 7:00 miles which would put me somewhere between my old PB and the Icarus-like time I'd put on the entry form. Great start to the race running through the streets of the city which afforded plenty of cooling shade from the sun, which was surprisingly hot, even at the 9am start. Noticed one larger guy from our corral struggling badly after about 400m with the world's biggest hydration pack on. And I thought I was being ambitious. Having said that, I raced through the first mile in 6:26 and the first 3 in an average of around 6:35. Way faster than target and I thought I'd better slow up or risk blowing out well before the finish.
I needn't have worried as the next 3 miles or so contained some pretty tough uphill sections. Nothing particularly steep but a succession of long sweeping uphill stretches took the toll on pace, heart rate but thankfully not spirit and enthusiasm as many runners around me encouraged each other up those tough sections. We made our way through Chinatown and on towards Sefton Park. Support on these sections were great too - smatterings of families out with young children urging us on. As an aside, I always take time out to high five a child whose family have taken the time to get them uit watching and supporting. Those littluns will probably be in our shoes in 15 years or so.
Miles 5-8 took us through Princes Park and Sefton Park which were thoroughly enjoyable sections of the course. After the tough climbs, the gentle undulations of the parks with the sunlight dappling the footpaths were a joy to behold on this glorious summer morning. The trees offered plenty of shade which was happily received by most runners. It was telling that many runners took the outside of the bends in the shade rather than the inside track in the sun. I'd settled well into a steady pace now and was averaging under that 7:00 mile pace and feeling good.
Exiting Sefton Park, another pretty steep ascent through Otterspoool Park awaited followed by a rollercoaster like drop. At the summit, we were greeted by a St. Helens Striders manned water station. The Striders offered fantastic encouragement and it was great to see a bunch of runners from my home town shouting and encouraging runners. I'm sure they'd have preferred to be running but they'd given up their Sunday morning to encourage others. Great work!
The last descent brought us to mile 9 and myself averaging about 6:50 per mile and miraculously on track to run the sub 1:30 and certainly achieve a PB. I was faced with the dilemma of settling for just the PB or pushing through the pain barrier to achieve the <1:30. As it happened the choice was made for me.
From the 2014 marathon and this year, the finishing 4 miles of this course appears to divide opinion. On the one side, many I have spoken to (when I say spoken, I mean on Twitter/FB/Strava) see it as a lovely, predominantly flat run down the River Mersey promenade, sun high in the sky and smiling faces urging on runners. On the other (e.g. my) side are those who see it as an interminable concrete slog in which the finish line is always in sight, yet paradoxically seeming to get further away with every stride. The blazing sun only adds to the torture.
At mile 10, I started to feel the strong pace I'd kept up in the legs. Funnily enough, I felt full of energy and wasn't breathing too heavily. The legs didn't agree. As I noticed my current pace dropping to around 7:30 per mile on the watch, I tried to speed it up but the legs weren't listening and steadfastly refused. I ploughed on until disaster struck. The water station at mile 11 was a godsend and I greedily guzzled half a bottle of deliciously cool water before tipping the other half down my back. Lost in the almost magical feeling of water sloshing in my belly I somehow tripped over apparently nothing and fell heavily. I quickly picked myself up. I'd like to say because I was totally focused on finishing as strongly as possible but it was more the utter embarrassment. Like when you fall over at school in front of a load of chortling pals and get up as if nothing has happened.
My hand throbbed and stung, blood began to seep from 3 separate cuts which felt pretty deep. I toyed with the idea of absolutely daubing myself in blood over the last 2 miles so that I would look like one of those people who emerge alive from the rubble 4 days after an earthquake in Guatemala or somewhere. I visualised my picture on the front of The Echo, possibly even Runner's World if I was lucky. Hell, my picture could become as iconic as Zola Budd running barefoot or that one of Kelly Holmes screaming as she crossed the finish line in Athens.
In the midst of these musings I realised I had passed 13 miles and it was almost over. Exhausted, I pushed on for that final few metres and crossed the line. The clock showed just under 1:32. I was overjoyed that I had certainly made the PB by over a minute. I couldn't remember what the clock showed as I crossed the start line but I thought I could knock another minute off that. A quick check of the app gave me a time of 1:30:32. A huge PB by 3:06 in what I felt was a pretty difficult race.
Post race found me enjoying my free pint after a seamless bag collection - no Greater Manchester Mrathon style horror stories to tell here. I watched a couple of the bands playing early and they were pretty good - still keep meaning to find out who they actually were. On that point, a couple of the performers on course sounded ace. One band with a female singer and another solo female -both in one of the parks but can't remember exactly. I'll have to look it up or if you know then put it in the comments!
Overall, a brilliant day. Fantastic organisation, atmosphere and course. I have no doubt I'll be back next year. It just remains to be seen whether it'll be 13.1 or 26.2.....
A big shout out to friends and acquaintances of mine running on the day: Stuart Tagg (car buddy), Ste 'Beardy Man' Firth (who injured himself and had to limp round), Emily Beasley (a former student of mine who's running all year to raise money for a great cause and ran her first half marathon), Karen Bailey (another first timer), Rachel Simm, David Niblock (who seems to be running marathons and halves on a daily basis judging by his Facebook page).
A difficult few months of running (or not running) was blown away on a lovely autumn morning not far from where I grew up.
