My high school P.E. teacher Mr. Weedon may not have liked me (and we
thought he was a prat too), and my physio in 2009 may have described me as
having the running style of a stroke victim, but last night saw both my 3k and
1500m PBs both creak and tumble in a breath-taking BRAT Club dominance at,
well, the BRAT Club Open.
This summer has seen my fast twitch muscles characteristically slow, but
without my usual dominance of the under 17 age group races which I’ve come to
enjoy, and a 3000m three weeks ago arguably achieved nothing except elevating
me away from the very bottom of the national rankings.
The Carthorse camp are accrediting these masterful PB revisions to
either the Saucony racing flats, which cost me a mere 6.3grams/kg of body
weight, (£0.64/kg if you will,) or perhaps the concoction of beetroot which I
subjected my stomach to three hours before the race.
But the real reason may perhaps be my new found running elegance. Now don’t get me wrong, everyone knows that I
have always been an elegant, neat, graceful and composed runner, but after an
eye-opening hungover, dehydrated and sleep deprived track session last
Saturday, I’ve come to realise that high leg cadence is even more respected by
my cardiovascular system than I imagined.
In fact, upping my cadence to 180 per minute drew cheers from a season’s
best of three different spectators, with one female fan commenting that while
it was “enjoyable to be able see more footstrikes, my increased speed deprived
her of additional time looking at my biceps.”
Despite being unable to get in touch with Chief Personal Motivator and
Head Movement Coach Nick ‘Nandos’ Howard for praise, I can already see this new
found technique revolutionising a running career which Seb Coe himself has long
advocated as “going nowhere”.
Meanwhile, graduation at the end of 9 years of studying architecture
has meant that there will be no more BUCS competitions. Although organisers are said to be pleased
that the average competitor age will now reduce, and I must now make my peace
that any dream of winning a BUCS medal, or making an athletic impact at any
event, is gone too.
NB: 180 (steps per minute) x 9:16 = 1668.
