The Trafford Experience

10K PB : 34:06

10K SB (post-Sept 2011) : 34:20 (xc, garmin measured)

We knew this route was fast - six months previously I had completed Trafford 10K in a then PB of 37:15, wiping 29 seconds off my best for the distance, and a further one second on receiving my chip time.

The series stood at 1-0, to him.  But I was confident of pulling it level.  Neck and neck in training, Steve and I locked horns again, in a clash so prolific that it lead to factions developing in our training group.  Some disturbing fan ‘art’ (or fart for short) developed, scribing the clash that unfolded, while children sung out names.*

*actually they shouted abuse at us in Hillsborough park when we trained, but who’s caring?

The Camel (myself) versus The Lion (Steve) 

Two weeks prior we had foolishly travelled across the snake pass in falling snow, in a minibus who’s heater did not work, getting stuck and having to push on the way, to find the race cancelled (at a cost of £10 in fuel per head).  Furthermore, Ally couldn’t attend the rescheduled trip due to bingeing commitments, but I did convince that organisers that he deserved a goody-bag for his committed screen wiping performance with a solitary damp tissue on that fateful journey.

The marooned minibus, with passengers evicted to lighten the load.  

Ally gets a goody-bag for his heroics two weeks prior, despite not being 

able to make the revised race date due to bingeing commitments.

On this occasion, I passed halfway in 17:10, to record a negative split, and 35 PB improvement only for Steve to have finished 11 seconds before me.  That record of 34:06, has stood ever since, and while I believe that I’ve been in better shape since, I’ve never been able to improve on it.

12 months ago I was in great shape, hoping to smash that time, but sometimes everything goes right apart from the race itself.  A flirt with stitch led to me crossing the line slightly slower than my best, despite limping for 3k, while Steve clocked sub-32 for the first time in a effortless endeavour.

This weekend I be making the annual pilgrimage to Partington, feeling like I’ve successful reclaimed some form.  According to my garmin, I’ve already ran within 20 seconds of my best this season, ongrass in the freezing snow only five weeks ago, giving me every reason to dream of that which has eluded me for the last two years. 

Rumour has it that like the 4-minute mile, it isn’t possible for a human to run 6.21miles in under 34 minutes, but records are there to be broken.

For me, crossing the line with the clock on 33 would constitute a job well done, regardless of the final two integers…