“So shall we do the Sheffield half marathon?” Sarah casually dropped the question into the conversation one evening over prosecco in the Anglers, as if she was simply asking if I wanted another drink. “Erm, no”, was my immediate response. I was a swimmer, not a runner. Except she made it sound totally do-able. We’d been running a little since new year in preparation for the Tadpole Graham in June; 5km here and there. Building up to 21km in just 8 weeks would be no problem at all, she assured me. I said yes, and then, in the cold light of a sober morning, totally bottled it. I’d do the training with her, I told myself, but not the race. I even sponsored her on the basis that I wouldn’t be running it myself.
We ramped up to running around 3 times a week. Shorter 5 or 6kms in the evenings and then a long run on Fridays or the weekend.
Our physio friend Lianne told us 12 weeks was a sensible minimum training time for a half marathon. We told her we had 8 weeks and she brilliantly found us a realistic training plan.
Now I am someone who meticulously trains for swimming events (I spent 15 months preparing for the Hellespont), but the lead in to the Sheffield half was difficult to say the least, with a beast from the East or two making consistent training almost impossible.
Yet every time we added a few kms onto our long run, I not only managed it, but felt amazing afterwards, like I was smashing through boundaries that I never thought I’d even get close to. One training session we ran the middle section of the course – my first 10km and I couldn’t believe I had run that far. Another day we ran home from Burbage in the rain – and it felt great. We passed the time chatting and pushed each other on, further and further. By the time we had done 16kms or 10miles, I didn’t really have a good reason not to do the event, so I bit the bullet and entered.
The week leading up to the run was spent mainly looking at weather forecasts and worrying about what to wear. This is where building up with park runs and 10kms would have been helpful, but it was too late for all that. In the event, the weather conditions were perfect – dry but cool. The start, however, was less than perfect. Having warmed up for a 9.30am start we were told that the race was being delayed by 15mins. We’d been eyeing the loos for one last wee and that decided it. A few(!) other competitors had the same idea meaning a queue quickly formed. So it was that I was sat in a portaloo as the countdown began and the race started. Luckily we weren’t expecting to be anywhere near the front so we still had time to rejoin the starting melee pretty much where we had left it.
Over the start line, we had only run a few paces before a concertina effect of 5,000+ competitors finding their stride kicked in and we were forced to walk as runners bunched up and then spread out again around us. This was not great on the muscles and I could feel my thighs tightening in protest at all the stopping & starting. Eventually however we were off and into a rythmn. The first 8km was uphill, and, at times, felt impossiblly hard. Running with Sarah was great as it seems she knows everyone in Sheffield meaning we got loads of support. Running for the charity Snowdrop was also a good idea, as people cheered on “the snowdroppers”.
The ascent of Ringinglow is timed seperately and the accolade of King / Queen of the Hill awarded to the fastest participants. We weren’t going to get anywhere close to that, but it still felt pretty good to crest the summit and know the worst of the hills were behind us. A quick energy gel and water top up helped too!
From there the course follows a largely downhill path back to the centre of Sheffield. This was the section we had done in training, which had felt good at the time, but of course that was without the initial 8km uphill. This time it felt much harder, despite being downhill and I started to doubt whether I could do it. It helped when we passed the half way point, but the feeling didn’t really leave me until we got to about 3km out and I knew, even if I walked the rest of the way I would still complete within 3 hours. I should say that the supporters along the route were fantastic all the way along, but especially in Dore when your energy is at its lowest, they really helped get you round. I was so drained that even when we passed the 10 mile mark, and I was officially running further than I had ever run before, it barely registered. When Sarah suggested a loo break I gratefully agreed, not needing the toilet but happy for a short rest! Ecclesall road was long and boring, with every lump and bump on the way registering painfully. Yet then, all of a sudden, we were rounding the final bend and the finish was in sight. The crowds were immense and we ran for home and a refreshing complementary finishers pint of Erdinger alcohol free beer! We had done it! I felt exhausted but euphoric at the same time. Strangely I was not as emotional as I had been after previous long runs – I think I was simply drained of anything. But a delve into the finishers bag brought chocolate bars and fruit & nut mixes to refuel. Never has a bar of chocolate tasted so good!
On reflection now, I definitely wasn’t prepared to the level that I would ordinarily want to be for a physical challenge of that order. If I did another long run I’d do much more hill training to cope with the uphills and also find a better way of preparing at the start.
Having said that, we completed the race in a time that we were both very happy with, and recovered relatively quickly. In the days that followed, I may even have looked at marathon options!