I've wanted to break the two hour half marathon duck since I recorded a time of 2 hours 3 minutes at last year's Cardiff Half Marathon. Last year's race was held on a sunny but frosty day, ideal for me since I don't like running when it's hot. I remember feeling strong all the way round and thoroughly enjoying the race.
Cardiff has historically been a fast, flat race through beautiful parks before heading down to the picturesque Bay. After having such a great race last year I was hoping all that training for Copenhagen would've increased my stamina and speed endurance. Since Copenhagen, I'd done a fair amount of running, the main focus being getting the miles in for the Snowdonia Marathon at the end of October. In my midweek runs though, I'd tried to push my pace.
The morning of the race was stress free and leisurely. Dan and I stayed at Dan's friend's flat which was a 5 minute walk from the start. The morning dawned grey and misty but the sun soon came through and it looked like it was going to be a warm-ish day.
I can only describe my feelings towards this race as indifferent. I was neither excited nor nervous. I didn't question why I was there but I had a nagging doubt in my mind about breaking two hours. Dan would run with me and try to pace me around.
The hooter went and 5 minutes later (!) we crossed the start line and began trotting. I always find that people start off way too fast in races but this time, I followed the trend. After a twisty route out of the Bay we were running up a dual carriage way towards the city centre. At mile one, I looked at my watch - 9m20 something - hmmm, ok. I also noticed my heart rate - way too high. The sun had started to make an appearance and I was already beginning to feel hot. So all in all, I wasn't too comfortable. I felt all the little inclines and just couldn't settle down.
At around 4 miles, we caught up with Dan's friend Gwyn and the two boys started chatting. Slowly, I started to fall back and eventually they were out of sight.
So on I plodded hoping to settle into my running and maintain a decent pace. Every now and again I thought I was beginning to feel good but this was false hope. At around mile 6 the route took us onto another dual carriage way which gradually climbed up and up and on and on. The sun shone like a torch on my head and I rued the decision to not wear my visor.
I got into a viscious circle. I desperately wanted to get this race done so I tried to push - the faster I run the sooner this will be over - but the harder I tried the worse I felt. I really wanted to stop and walk.
Eventually, after possibly the most boring route ever, Cardiff Bay was in sight and we were down to the last couple of miles. By now my buttocks and hips had decided to throw in the towel and I felt like I was in shuffle-mode. I got to mile 9 in 1hr27 (around 9.5 minute miles)......I eventually finished in 2hrs10 so in the last 4 miles I slowed to an average of 10m45 miles!! I was glad to cross the line but not pleased at all by how it had gone.
On reflection, I think I must've been tired. The summer of iron training has taken its toll. I think I'll try to break 2 hours again in the Spring, hopefully after a winter of rest (well, I'll keep doing some training!).
There's one last race, however....Snowdonia Marathon this weekend. Then, I'll rest!
