They say that the county
champs are in decline. As true as that maybe, and as sad as it is for
athletics, it doesn't bother me in the slightest as with decent competition I
honestly wouldn't have been standing on the second tier of the rickety podium
at the Warwickshire's yesterday, second only to the ever-reliable Ed Banks in
the 5000m, who now holds a head-to-head record against me of about 200-0. Mo
Farah in contrast has never beaten me, which puts into perspective how much
better than Mo Ed 'The Beard' Banks is.
A
pre-planned racing strategy with second-favourite training partner Dan Robinson
was going to be the secret to us both breaking 16 minutes, although
unfortunately the ultra-marathoner fell a little shy on the day.
As I
stretched for the finish of the most painful race I'd ever done, the capacity
crowd willed me forward. I flung myself at the line having given everything,
and sunk to the ground gasping for air and willing the screaming in my legs to
dissipate.
The
pandemonium on the track silenced as the words came over the
loudspeakers: 'The time is Fifteen minutes....' The rest of the
announcement was drowned out by the joyous cries of several people who had just
witnessed history in the making. At last the barrier was broken.*
Breaking 16
was everything I dreamed. 'Tell me about your race?' said an important looking
gentleman to me as I collected my medal, who I incorrectly assumed was from
world media. I quickly tailed off my overly detailed description as I realised
he was merely the guy who had timetabled the events. All he actually wanted to
know was if an 11:30 start suited and would be fine next year as
well? 'Great!' I said, after quickly mulling over if in my brief moment of
power there was a more preferable time of day for me to be comprehensively
beaten in 365 days time. '11:30 is great.'
* 'The
Perfect Mile' by Neal Bascomb is available from all good bookstores.
