The Bath Half Marathon

The past is always present in Bath

I'm starting to write this blog post as I enjoy the beautiful late Sunday afternoon sunshine from the passenger seat of the VW on the way home to St Albans after a fantastic weekend in the west country. After two months of training interspersed with the occasional trip down memory lane, this was the weekend when Project Five O got properly underway. Sunday 6th March. The Bath Half Marathon. My first race of the year.

I'll get to the race itself shortly. The weekend wasn't just about the half marathon, however. It was a welcome weekend away in a beautiful part of the country. We made our way relatively unhindered by the usual Friday night congestion, and arrived at the picturesque village of Freshford, near to Bath at around 7:30 pm. Our destination was the lovely house of my uncle David, whose legendary hospitality was as generous as ever throughout the weekend.

One of the original houses in the village.

After a traditional English breakfast on Saturday morning, we travelled the short distance on a crowded train from Freshford to Bath.

The main focus of this first of trip into the city to see the impressive Roman Baths. This was my second visit and felt even more enjoyable than my first due to the chance to listen to the thoughts of the always interesting Bill Bryson via the audio device provided to visitors to listen to on the way round. Other attractions take note - this was included in the entry price, not an optional extra at further cost.

Steam rising from the hot spring water of Aquae Sulis

There is a real sense of the distant pass at the Baths and the ingenuity and technical achievements of the Romans, way ahead of their time, never cease to fascinate me. Travelling back in time, however, is hungry work and we were ready for a very modern day lunch at Yo Sushi followed by a heavenly toffee apple from the Fudge Kitchen Shop.

Mine's the second from the right at the front on the top shelf!

As I had already consumed two helpings of summer fruit strudel with ice cream for my dessert the previous evening, I was beginning to worry that all of my training and reasonably healthy eating thus far in 2011 would be undone by this onslaught of puddings just when I needed to be at my fittest and lightest. Mind you, it didn't stop me from indulging in a second helping of apple crumble and ice cream following David's chicken curry later the very same day!

Anyway, enough of the build-up. Race day arrived distinctly chilly and overcast. David dropped me off near the start in Great Pulteney Street. After feeding what rapidly appeared to be turning into a pudding addiction with a pancake smothered with lemon and sugar from a stall in the 'Runner's Village' I joined a field of 15,000 waiting for the start.

In Henrietta Street - about 300 metres back from the start in Great Pulteney Street

As soon as I passed through the start line I felt comfortable, and set off at a steady pace that I was able to stick to without difficulty as I passed the half way mark. I was still feeling good, but having struggled badly in the second half of most races I have entered since 2006, I kept thinking "This can't last. Any time now I'm going to start getting a pain in my knee or hip or the strength is going to ebb from my muscles." Remarkably, though, I just kept going and barely slowed at all until the torturous half mile incline leading back up to the finishing straight in Great Pulteney Street. I crossed the finishing line in my fastest time for a half marathon since 2006, and although it was still 17 minutes short of my personal best, it was my third best time ever and over 26 minutes faster than I ran (or more accurately started running and then hobbled) last year.

Passing through Queens Square after about 7 miles

I still think my 2:09 at Fleet may prove beyond my capabilities five years on, but nevertheless I was thrilled by my performance today. It's really encouraged and motivated me to push on and stretch myself in the challenges to come. But of course, first must come the post-race analysis. The secret of my promising return to form needs to be scrutinised by Hawk Eye and Hotspot for the benefit of geriatric runners of the future.

Well, here are what I think are the four key factors behind my improved performance.

1. Puddings. In all seriousness, having eaten pretty healthily since the beginning of the year, I reckon that my last minute burst of glucose-rich carbohydrates turbo-charged my leg muscles at the ideal time, leaving them bursting with 13.1 miles worth of strength and endurance.

2. A nice little link with Roman times here - grapes. My usual practice is to boost my energy on the way round by eating a Jelly Baby every time I pass a mile marker. I'd forgotten to buy any this time and so popped a bunch of grapes into my bum bag on Sunday morning. Not only did a couple of the seedless wonders once a mile seem to inject just as much energy as a JB, they left my mouth feeling fresh and unsticky.

3. Boobs. Let me explain. 144 runners, including television presenter Fearne Cotton, were running with an inflatable breast attached either to their front or back in support of the Breast Cancer charity coppafeel. It was quite a sight to behold and the large mammaries were the subject of many a ribald comment out on the course (not from me I might add, although the experience did rather change my mental image of the phrase "tweaking a muscle")

"Jogging for Jugs": http://www.coppafeel.org/

Fearne and friend

Between the 7 and 10 mile markers I found myself running behind two girls each with a boob attached to their back. They were running at just the right speed to act as perfect pace makers and the rhythmic swaying of their (imitation) breasts was almost hypnotic. The part of a half marathon that I have really struggled with recently just flew by!

4. Having a realistic training plan and sticking to it. All of the above would have had no effect whatsoever if I'd not trained properly. I have built up slowly but have resisted all temptation so far to skip  a training run. With the help of a sports massage from Stan I have avoided injury, and the extra hamstring stretching he recommended has definitely helped too.

Another medal for my collection

So, a fantastic race as part of a great weekend. Newham 10K on 27th March is next - bring it on!

No Pain, No Gain!

It's only 12 days now until my first race of the year, the Bath Half Marathon on Sunday 6th March. My race number and instruction booklet arrived in the post a few days ago.

I was a bit worried when I first caught sight of my number, as I thought the 'F' stood for female, and I had somehow been mistaken for a woman. How could this be? Perhaps one of the organisers had got hold of that photograph of me on a beach in Wales back in 1979 and jumped to the wrong conclusion.

I was on the verge on instructing Max Clifford to issue a statement:

"It was just an innocent bit of fun on the part of my client on a family holiday while he was still at school. We all did things when we were growing up that we perhaps regret later. In any event, nowadays it is much more acceptable for men to explore their feminine side, so it really isn't an issue. And don't forget that back in the late 1970s / early 80s there was still good money to be made in the daisy chain industry, and big hair was very popular with the England football team."

However, as I read through the instruction booklet, it soon became clear that the 'F' in fact denotes the starting 'pen' I have been allocated to and that Max had consequently lost a potential client. Unsurprisingly on the basis of my performance in the same race last year, pen F is the one at the back of the field! Oh well, at least it will reduce the number of people able to overtake me during the 13.1 miles.

Actually my training has been going pretty well. I am lighter and faster than at the same time last year with no sign of the pain between my left hip and knee that made the final part of the Bath half 2010 the slowest and most painful three miles I have ever experienced. I am still a long way off being able to challenge the 2:09 I recorded in Fleet in 2006, but it's early in the year and I have always seen Bath as more of an enjoyable weekend away and a part of my Project Five O build up than a realistic chance to record a PB.

Nevertheless my leg muscles have felt increasingly tight over the past couple of weeks, and that can only mean one thing. A visit to the physio for a sports massage. I've had a number of these over the past few years. They really are essential to prevent tight and knotty muscles developing into full blown injuries.  My latest physio is Stan from the Czech Republic and he is excellent. I paid him a visit this afternoon.

For most people the word massage conjures up an image of dimmed lights, scented candles and whale music accompanying the firm but gentle application of perfumed oils by an attractive female made to seem even more alluring by her slightly austere attire. A sports massage is no such thing, especially when it is administered by Stan.

The initial massage of each part of the leg is very pleasant, consisting of a rigorous but light manipulation to warm up the tissues. What follows is far less enjoyable as very firm pressure is applied along the entire length of each muscle to stretch and squeeze out any twisted and knotty fibres. The pain slowly builds as the pressure moves along the muscle, reaching a sharp crescendo and then fading a little towards the end. I reckon there were over twenty such sequences this afternoon. I have found that the best way through the experience is to keep breathing regularly and deeply, in a similar way to when I'm in the dentist chair. I actually think a sports massage is more painful than dental treatment, but curiously I would much rather visit Stan than my dentist Dr Boraghi, very nice man though he is. I think that's because dental treatment just feels so very intrusive. By the way, if you've clicked on the link, Dr Boraghi is the Rafa Benitez lookalike, not the Dr Evil impersonator.

The pain was all worth it, though, for the extra looseness and flexibility that I could feel in my legs as I made my way home after the treatment. They feel renewed, ready for the even longer runs to come. I do have strict instructions from Stan that I need to stretch my hamstring much more extensively as it was far tighter than it should be, and apparently still is even after the massage.

Now I'm back home I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine and dig out the scented candles and whale music CD. It's time to relax.