Biting for the Big Apple - Wexford Half Marathon Report

Report by Deirdre Hassett

As an engineer, the idea of applying scientific principles to running appeals to me. I’m inherently lazy, so anything that will allow me to go faster using less effort is good (note the compression socks which together with the new maroon club shorts raised a few eyebrows on recent outings). I’ve been running for a few years now, upping the distance only last year for my first attempt at a marathon.

My marathon program went on the basis of working out how fast you can run short distances, then, using the McMillan pace calculator (or such like), training for your predicted marathon pace. Now, this isn’t news to most of you, but the idea of training to run as fast as you can has revolutionised my run training. It’s liberated me from worrying about how fast everyone else is running; plus psychologically it puts money in the bank, giving me confidence that if I stick to the plan, I can rock up on race day and demand the appropriate pace from my body.

So: running as Design of Experiment (DOE). DOE’s are simple - take a variety of inputs, which you suspect or know affects an output, vary the inputs and see what happens. Then extrapolate the results and you get a prediction for other target outputs (say calculating your marathon time from 5 or 10km).

Inputs: VO2max, lactic tolerance, fast/ slow twitch muscles, genetic stardust and those six pounds of Green and Black’s chocolate I’m carrying on my ass.

Outputs: Time for a given distance (more or less of it).

Goal: to reduce time. Uncontrolled (noise) factors: weather, crowds, hills (inc. entering a race which you think is flat and which is actually not - more of which anon.)

So on this basis, and on the back of a successful first marathon in Berlin last year (armed with a Garmin for pace, and finishing exactly one minute slower than my declared goal time - 0.5% off prediction is in scientific terms very close indeed given that I hadn‘t tested over that distance before), I decided to train in earnest for a nice late spring half marathon. The Wexford half marathon fit the bill for a sixteen week training plan from late January, plus Wexford is nice and flat, which would give me a fast time for my underlying goal: to gain a half marathon qualifying time for the New York Marathon 2009 or 2010. Yes, if you read the small print, a senior woman can gain automatic entry to the New York marathon with a half marathon time of 1:37:00. According to MacMillan - and the Run Less Run Faster dudes - I should be able to run 1:35:30 on the basis of my recent 5km and 10km times.

Right, then I shall run that and gain entry to the New York Marathon. Excellent. Armed with a random (but scientifically sound) Ryan Hall half marathon training plan pulled from Runner’s World, I set out to bite for the Big Apple. Training progressed nicely enough in the run up to the race and I was hitting my target half marathon pace of 4:30/km on my tempo runs. In parallel to the run training, I’ve been trying to practice some positive sports psychology. Pulling some techniques from a recent lecture by a local sports psychologist for the triathlon club, I’ve been trying to concentrate on visualisation, positive thinking, and focussing on good form. While not a mantra, one of my favourite sayings comes from the teacher in the Yoga Shala, Dave, who (usually while we’re in some excruciating posture), exhorts us to ‘be strong in the abdomen’. I often repeat this during races when struggling to maintain form as the wheels fall off the wagon (or when getting into very cold water and during other ridiculous triathlon scenarios).

The race day dawned gloriously, with a 9:30am start on the far side of the Slaney from the quays in Wexford. The race start was prompt and uncrowded as we ran across the bridge, down the quays and out towards Ferrycarraig. The weather was unseasonably hot for Ireland in April and while the first few kilometres were uneventful, I reached the 5km mark on target time wise but with a lather of sweat and sunscreen running into my eyes. I paced behind a slightly older woman who I decided would be my goal to keep me on motivation. Then the fun started. From a lung wrenching hill at km 6, the course rolled upwards and downwards around Ferrycarraig on the outskirts of Wexford for the rest of the race. This wasn’t part of the plan. I worked hard to maintain pace but reached the top of some of the inclines gasping and trying to recover my pace on the flat and on the downhills. Creeping along behind my pace maker I started to feel anguished when she moved away and cheered up when I caught her. Okay, this wouldn’t do. I started to concentrate on leg turnover and form, even when I slowed, to ensure that my pace gradually crept back after each hill and ignored the women sliding past around me. The course took its toll inevitably and by the 16km mark, my legs were leaden with lactic acid and I just couldn’t muster up my target pace. Strong in the abdomen? I kept thinking of Christy Moore’s immortal lines from Delirium Tremens (in confession, as he’s tied barbed wire around his underpants in penitence) ‘Any impure thoughts, my child? Sure, the f*ckin’ barbed wire was killing me!’

By the last 2km, a fun (and flat!) route through the town centre and back down the quays, I knew the 1:37 goal was going to be out of reach and I was suffering. That didn’t stop me from trying the usual ‘Chariots of Fire’ sprint to the line to at least try and sneak into that minute as the clock approached 1:38:00. Final time? 1:37:59. I was a little disappointed post race at missing the goal time but on discussion with others at the finish line, everyone’s time was a little slow, given the tough course. I discovered the next day that I was ninth in the women’s race, which cheered me up no end. Analysing the race afterwards on the way home, I thought: no New York time. And then: well, I truly ran as fast as I could. And that, for today, made me happy.

Reports