It seemed a good idea to enter this race at the time. I was coming to the end of the 2011 season and wanted some races to act as training markers, as milestones to keep me motivated and to keep training on track.
Not wanting to make excuses before the race, as we got nearer to the firing of the start pistol I made a few excuses!
The Liverpool Marathon, coming after a long, hard season took some recovery. Training had wound down a little, with fewer sessions and less volume per session. Running was now down to two sessions per week, focusing on higher intensity work rather than volume or endurance. My longest run had been a 60 minute treadmill session, the remaining sessions being 30-40 minutes. This meant I was either coming into the race well rested or very under-trained! Being a glass half-full person, I preferred to think it was well-rested.
Added to that, the week before the race I had done a couple of hard, hilly rides in the Lake District taking on a couple of the more famous climbs (Kirkstone Pass, The Struggle), which after a period of little outdoor cycling, certainly tested my legs.
It’s fair to say that I wasn’t really expecting much going into the race. When asked, sub-1.30 was my goal (about 4.15 minute per kilometre pace). But to be honest I didn’t really know what sort of form I was in – could be a PB buster or a real disappointment.
I started the race in the sub-1.30 pen, about 8 or 10 rows back, alongside club mate Ian Roche. The gun went off and it took all of 6 seconds to cross the line. I started off nice and easy – letting people go past and getting into a comfortable rhythm. It was only when I glanced down at my watch after about 500m and saw 3.45 minute/k pace that I realised I was running much too fast!
I deliberately slowed it down a little and started cruising along at 4 min/k feeling very comfortable. This was good. We’d only done 3k on a flat and fast section and I was starting to dream about a new PB! Runners were thinning out now as we did a bit of beach running and ran over the narrow sandy trail. A couple of runners passed me, but in the main I was moving through the traffic nicely. I reached the 5k mark a little under 20 minutes – quickly realising that I needed to ease off the throttle – particularly given the fact we had a 4k hill as part of this race! For the next two or three k I sat in behind a couple of runners as we turned inland, up a small rise and then descended towards the sea front. There was plenty of time for heroics later!
We turned a couple of corners and after about 8k the road started to go up. I had no idea what this hill climb looked like, but at that point it didn’t look too menacing and I thought “hill, what hill?”, increased my effort and started moving past some runners. That bravado was soon put in its place when we rounded yet another bend and the gradient kicked up sharply. “Short strides, short strides” I kept repeating. It seemed to work, as without any additional effort I took off and overtook runners who were obviously struggling up the hills. I remember thinking that Ironman Wales had prepared me well for this run!
The road was relentless and just kept on rising ahead, with some serious gradients during this stretch. I crossed the 10k mark on the course in 41.38 – nicely on target for a sub-1.30 finish. Shortly after this point I saw an official photographer. Now in all the races I’ve ever done, photographers always park themselves at the top of the hill, so they catch you at your slowest and in the most amount of pain. Naturally I thought I had reached the summit and I was going to cruise the next few minutes downhill. Not so. This was a cruel trick. We rounded another bend and the road went up, up and up, steeper than ever! We were above a castle. How many roads do you know that are above a castle?! Then there was the pub, the ‘Rest And Be Thankful’ pub. This was the top surely? Nope. We still had more climbing to do. To compensate for this, the weather was fantastic, with blue skies all around giving us uninterrupted, high level views of the coastline. Small consolation.
The hill had actually been really good for me in the race, overtaking maybe 10-12 people on the way up and not being passed by a single person. After 12k we hit the descent and it was time to claw back some time and make a 9k dash to the finish! I’m not the best at descending, usually leaning back with a real heel strike, breaking any momentum and slowing me down. However, Dani Trinca had given me some advice prior to the race which I tried to put into practice. Get up on my toes, short strides, quick leg turnover. I started off well, on the shoulder of a guy who looked like he knew how to descend. Then, all of a sudden, I felt the familiar pulsing in my right calf. Cramp was near. I carried on, but so did the pulsing and the twinges. Now the left calf too. You’ve got to be joking! Slowing down and back down from my toes, I ran comfortably for the rest of the downhill (3.45-3.50k pace), allowing one runner to overtake me and zoom on ahead of me. Better lose a few seconds with a slower pace than a couple of minutes stopped on the sidelines nursing my calves back to life. My heart rate began to come down to, from the 174-175 it had been for much of the race, back down to 162-163.
As soon as I got back onto flat land, my legs felt better. No signs of cramping. With 7k to the finish let’s go, give it everything I thought. I left a couple of runners who I had been descending with behind and focussed on the runners in front. I was running 4 minute/k pace again and zooming. Then we hit the sand. A narrow stretch of path which seemed to go on for ages covered with thick soft sand, and I lost my rhythm. I obviously wasn’t the only one as I overtook what I hoped would be the leading female runner (alas it wasn’t – she was in second) during this stretch.
Once off the sandy section, probably with about 5k to go, I spotted the guy who flew past me on the descent. He was about 200m in front of me. He was my goal. I was feeling pretty tired now, with my legs grumbling and fatigue starting to set in, but this runner – rather than my pace or my heart rate – was now my focus. However, reeling him in proved tougher than it originally looked. I closed the gap to about 30 metres with about 1k to go when another runner came past me, looking quite fresh too. No way! I hadn’t been overtaken much in this race, and not at all since the descent at about the 12k point. This was my new nemesis! Up onto the main road into Conwy and then onto the bridge, greeted by a yellow ‘400m To Go’ sign. An inner voice shouted “come on Bryan, you can’t let this guy suddenly overtake you and beat you! Dig deep! You might even catch the guy you’ve been running down for the past 4k!” Big effort up the hill to catch back up to him and I was suddenly on his shoulder. This was it. Whether he knew it or not, I was taking him on the short descent to the finish! Suddenly kids were putting their hands out to high five me. Running as hard as I could (I hit 3 minute/k pace), with one hand outstretched to high five the kids, I overtook my new nemesis – but looking like I was showboating! Although I didn’t manage to catch the runner I had been chasing for the past 5k I still milked the finish, arms aloft, in full Ironman ‘take my picture’ pose!
Crossing the line in 1:28:52, I had managed to beat my sub-1.30 goal! On a much hillier than expected course, after a couple of hard, hilly bike rides in the Lake District during the week, I was less than 2 minutes outside my PB, averaging 4.13 minute per k pace with an average heart rate of 174. From 1237 runners, I had finished in 61st place (60th male) and 12th in my age category (M35+).
After the mixed feelings of the Liverpool Marathon, this race has helped me feel positive about my running again now. My goal of 1.25 in 2012, although still ambitious, is suddenly back in focus.
