Those Moments that Made my Year

For the Carthorse and friends, 2013 has been quite a year of running. This year has seen many of us in my training group significantly improve. Personally, my season was probably summed up by three outstanding races in July (Mile), August (5000m) and September (HM), each better than the last. But that hasn't been complete story of this year which has just been made up of moments of hilarity, unbelievable happenings and fun. Now seems like the opportune time to recap some of my favourite moments. In chronological order of course. 

10^th April, Villamoura, Portugal:

Villamoura was a fantastic two week 'holiday' with friends in the sun at a time when the UK was still getting snow. It was great training aboard, although some of the routes got a little repetitive.  This Wednesday, I remember Nick 'Nandos' Howard showing me the beach cliff trail route for the first time. The weather was amazing, there were fantastic views of the ocean, and the steep trails were a real breathe of fresh air.  I ran that same route later that day too.

18^th May, Yate:

Summer had arrived in force and it was the first of four Track & Field League fixtures. We were pushing for promotion this season, but unfortunately we had a depleted team, meaning we were all doubling, or tripling up in the events. By the time it got to the 4x400 relay, the last event, we had only a disparate crew of exhausted distance runners left able to run.

I volunteered to go first leg as I had prior experience of holding a baton. The start line was hilarious; amongst five serious teams in blocks, I took a standing-start position and had only managed a single step by the time my competitors had sprung away and managed three….I was 50 metres behind by 100m. Dan, with a 1500m and a 5000m in his legs, finished the third leg just ahead of the leaders completing the event. This ensured we didn’t get lapped, meaning Ed, the anchor, was so jubilant that he performed a double Mobot as he eventually crossed the line.

25^th May, Leicestershire & Warwickshire joint County Champs finish line, Leicester. 

Having narrowly missed it in Yate the week before, it was widely known that I was attempting to run my maiden sub-16 minute 5000m. After one of the most physically painful races I can remember, I crossed the line, collapsing almost immediately to all fours, unable to move or do anything but hope the lactate would clear.

'What did you do?' would have been a polite way for a recovered-Ed to have enquired as to my result. But probably not convinced I would’ve been able to respond, he instead simply grabbed my watch arm from where it lay limp on the floor and pulled to his eye level. I subsequently found out I’d come second in the county, but recalling Ed's violation of my watch/arm is what I smile about when I remember that day. 

June 23^rd, My bed. 

In June, Dan was the athlete in form. The previous day had been the Midland 5000m champs which has been a disaster. The conditions were miserable, and even though Dan and Ed had PB-ed, no one was over the moon about it. 

In uncustomary fashion we hit the town to drown our sorrows, and after stumbling in at 4am, I managed to drag myself around an ‘easy’ 90 mins with Ed, in a massive struggle of hangover and sore legs. 

Dan, in contrast it turned out, had used his hangover to positive effect. I got a phone call as I lay in bed post-run trying to recover. He had somehow gone out and done a 9 mile race, finishing third in an unbelievably quick time. I do not know how, only that I could not have done that. 

July 20^th, Iffley Road track, 15 metres from the line.

The opportunity to run at the famous Roger Bannister track in Oxford was too much to pass on, even though I didn't consider myself to be in good shape to race a Mile. Dan and Mark were in the heat before mine and both ran 4:40. Not a chance I thought.

Somehow I found myself still in it coming down the final 100m, and with my friends ecstatic with jubilation on the sidelines, my legs beginning to burn, bend and wobble, I was starting intently at the finish clock which was slowly ticking up, and not getting any closer.

The winner crossed the line two seconds ahead of me, stopping the clock, but fifteen metres away I was so out of it I didn’t really absorb this. I just remember thinking I has managed to stop time, and that I'd now exist forever in a sea of painful purgatory at 4:32.

This mile was probably my breakthrough race this season, and my 1500m split probably a good 6 or 7 seconds faster than a race over the same distance just four days earlier. 

24^th August, Coventry University track finish line:

Coventry BMC 5000m was the ultimate of races. Paced by super-metronomic Ed Banks, it featured four of my other friends and training partners. I crossed the line just three seconds behind Dan, and I'll never forget the scenes that subsequently unfolded....

As I crossed the line, Dan had had just enough time to release the enormity of what he'd done, and turn around, with a shocked look on his face. I simply ran straight into an embrace, and turned around to see my friend Sarah cross the line inside her PB too. Lying around on the floor and self-congratulations initially got in the way of knowing what anyone else had done, but I then spotted Mark 10 metres away. He was frozen still, a massive smile on his face, arms stretched out wide and his body language said 'just ask me' all over it. He’d taken over 20 seconds off a 20 year old PB, breaking the 16-minute barrier which he’d given up on long ago. What a hero. It's rare that everyone you go to a race with has a screamer. On that day myself, Dan, Mark, Sarah and Chris all smashed it. And Ed's contribution was a massive part of that. Those scenes may never be repeated again.

A tail of two blogs

It’s amazing how the same piece of news can be both the best thing you could ask for and the worst.  For me that news came just over three weeks ago, when frustrated with my physio, I went for a second opinion.  This gentleman invited me onto his torture table and attempted to bend me every which way he could think of. 

The three words he then uttered redefined my running, and have been the cause of severe optimism, and unimaginable frustration, as shown in the two blogs that I wrote on two consecutive days.

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Day 18: Going to the physio was the best thing I ever did. 

Anterior pelvic rotation weren't new words to me.  Three years ago I was diagnosed as having a massive anterior rotation, caused by ridiculously tight hip flexors, which restricted my pelvis position, and thus how high I could lift my knees, which stunted my stride. 

This problem hasn't gotten worse, but I had wrongly assumed that I had maximised my range of motion.  Not true.  This physio demonstrated that with my pelvis in neutral, I literally cannot move my upper leg backwards beyond vertical.  I therefore have to choose between enabling knee lift which restricts my stride length, or enabling my glutes (the largest muscle in the body) to work correctly without being able to lift my knees. 

Just 15 minutes of stretching three times a day should be enough to change this, and given that the first time I made this adjustment, the biomechanical change allowed me to train effectively to reduce my 10k time from 37:14 (Sept. 2009) to 34:41 (Dec. 2009), the optimism of even a slight improvement alone is enough motivation to stick at this.  It’s not easy, but it’s exciting.

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Day 19: Going to the physio was the worst thing I ever did. 

Anterior pelvic rotation is like a curse.  I thought I had resolved this.  I went through all of the physio three years ago.  The problem is I’m now really aware of how awkwardly I run.  I can feel when my whole pelvis tilts forwards now.  It annoys the hell out of me.  An evening run through the countryside shouldn’t end in me screaming and kicking a fence in pure frustration.  Writing 18 seconds off my PB last week should feel satisfying, not worthless because I know that this time is easily beatable if I can overcome this problem. 

I hate stretching three times a day….it uses all of my free time.  Just when I want to relax, its time to contort myself again.  Now I struggle for motivation to run because I know that it’s pointless without rectifying biomechanical factors first.  I wish I’d never known and could just carry on in ignorance.  I was happy being a very average runner.  Argh.

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It’s amazing how the same situation can be perceived in two such different ways.  I’m just hoping that the positives eventually overcome the negative.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

…who is the most inspirational of them all?

I’ve been struggling for the last week to write my career self appraisal: a four page document for the RIBA examiners basically informing them why I would make a good architect.  In pondering my inspiration, my mind wondered, and I decided to write my current top three list of my most inspirational athletes.

There were many contenders, including Ed ‘The Beard’ Banks whose phenomenal PBs make goals seem more attainable, Mark ‘Mince’ Ince, who occasionally knocks out impressive park runs despite mediocre blocks of training, and then of course Mister ‘Beast’ Canaway, who based his supernatural performances around mesocycles of bingeing.

But the short list has been narrowed down, commiserations to all those who missed out, but you probably need to up your game.  That includes you Mo.

#3: Sarah the Snack.  Sporting quadruple nationality, ah McCormack, not to be mistaken for Sarah Snack the javelin thrower, had the opportunity to run for GB, USA, Ireland or Antartica before selecting option 3.  Listed not just to avoid making the same mistake as SPOTY, Mac’s infamous bum-wobble is rumoured to have developed from carrying a gun holster around with her University of Michigan training group.  A long term rival in my university days, I always had to be at the top of my game to avoid a loss to this powerhouse and she is now once again making great strides forward, presumable motivated by catching me up.

#2: Simon Millhouse.  Citing his long term hero and sporting idol as Emile Heskey, Millett was my true genuine inspiration to actually apply myself to running.  A man who once threatened to kiss his now-girlfriend, Milton gave up our bi-weekly Roar sessions straw-pedoing orange reef in favour of married life and running up the majority of hills at xc championships.

#1: Nick Goolab.  And here you have it.  A man I’ve seen seemingly effortlessly run to BUCS XC and 5000m victories but never actually met, Goolab went through a phase of stalking me at the Birmingham Uni track (based on circumstantial evidence).  Unlike many of his peers, Goolab combined a heavy training schedule with a worthwhile degree in Mathematics, blogged about his training with a colloquial tone, including his love-hate relationship with his garmin, and chatting about easy run mile splits starting with a five as if they were no effort at all, elevating himself to the top of my list.  Sadly Goolab is rumoured to have walked away from the sport, making a martyr of himself and meaning Steve Bayton may never reach his inspirational heights…