Birthday & Bradford 10k Recap


In Which I Age, And In Which I Run A Run

14th March 2014
Today, was my birthday. I turned 32. I realise I’ve not gotten your card yet, but there’s still time. (There’s still time.)

Amongst other presents (Honey Jack Daniels, Thor 2, Aftershave and stuff) I got my very first ever GPS watch from my lovely wife Sarah.

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Obviously, I went out and tested it the same day. It. Is. Awesome. I only ran a mile because I had birthday beer to go drink and I was pleased with how easy it is to use. It also came with a heart rate monitor and bike thingy (sorry if I got too technical there.)

Also downloaded the app to my phone, so it syncs to it as soon as I’m done running. Brilliant!

The rest of my birthday was spent with family, and with alcohol. Lots of both.

15th March 2014
Oww, my head!

16th March 2014
Ironman Tony picked me up around 8, and we then went to get Susan and Hannah and drove the 2 miles into Bradford for a hometown 10k.

We met up with ironman Rob and before long lined up for the start of the race. It was very windy where the start was, but the sun was hinting at making an appearance.

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Got my watch going, searching for satellites and it found one with a minute or so. After a speech from the Mayor, we were away.

Both Ironmen were out of sight straight away, which I’m used to by now. I kept an eye on my watch and made sure I was staying around the 8:30mi/mile. (Minutes per mile)

The course took us around the Westfield development, then up a hill into Little Germany. (Never seen a German there. Not even a little one.) The pack thinned out a little, but not much. Think everyone ran up that hill.

From Little Germany we turned right, along Canal Rd towards Shipley. 2km marker flew by, and we then turned off to the right towards Gaisby Lane. Back around to the left, then back right on Canal Rd again. The turn around point was almost in Shipley, and right at the top of the hill. Quick check of my watch showed 08:30, so all good there.

Reaching the water station I took some water, then had to slow down to a walk to drink it as it was in a cup. Splashed a bit on my face, then set off running again, back up to 08:30 pace.

Then the sun came out.

Chuffing hell did it get warm! I was glad to get back towards Bradford town centre where it was more built up so more shade. The run was going quick, probably because I knew the area so knew how far was left to go.

There was a decent crowd lining the last few hundred metres, but as soon as I turned into it the wind hit me full on. Guess the buildings were acting as a wind tunnel, but it was head on which didn’t help.

Reached the end, stopped my watch and looked at the time.

52:49. My newest PB! (And on a hometown race, too!)

Also, I’d gotten this mention on twitter:

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Met up with the others, then straight into Lloyd’s for a breakfast and a coffee. (Then beer..!)

Myself and Ironman Tony had run in our Mad Dog 10k shirts, and when in Lloyd’s someone said to us “Easily the best race shirts I’ve seen today.” Bless him.

Forgetfulness
Other day, Sarah said that she thinks a race number had arrived in the post, but addressed to someone else.

Shhhhh……….it.

Best explain: back in about January, a bloke on twitter (whose name is on the envelope) had offered entry into a race because it no longer fit into his schedule. I snapped it up, then forgot all about it.

Fast forward two months.

Envelope in hand, I opened it up and took out the contents. Sure enough, a race number. For the 6th April (three weeks away.) Manchester MARATHON.

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Yep, getting that used to running that I FORGET THAT IM ENTERED INTO A CHUFFING MARATHON IN LESS THAN A MONTH!

Let’s see how that goes!

March-ing On! (March, get it?!)


In Which I Get Faster, But Shouted At

Last Sunday I couldn’t really be bothered going out running, but had a word with myself and got up and went.

I’d planned out a roughly-1/2-marathon route a few days before, so grabbed my iPod, gels and drink and set off.

Worked my way along the pavements of eccleshill and idle, then worked my way down towards the canal which was around the 4 mile mark. It had rained a bit through the night and it killed me seeing the mud splashing on my Brooks. :(

Plenty busy down there though (down on the canal, not down on my feet) saw loads of runners and cyclists, all happy to be out and about.

Reached the turn around point at shipley (roughly 8mile) and set off back again to the start of the canal. Felt quite good all the way and got there (about 12 mile) with a mixture of running/walking. Looked at my tracker and it said 11.

Bugger.

Sucked it up then carried on for the last couple miles.

Before that run my quickest 13.1miles was 02:07. My new quickest 13.1miles is 02:01! So close to getting under 2 hours! Maybe next time.

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After work this week I decided to cycle the longer way home which works out around 7 miles, but is a bit flatter so can get some speed up.

I’d reached some traffic lights at a funny shaped junction and got in the left hand lane, for going straight ahead (or turning left, I guess.)

To go straight ahead where I wanted to head, you have to turn left a bit first then turn back to the right because it’s a stupidly shaped junction, plus then there’s a crossing island in the middle. Rush hour traffic, plus darkness and on a bike meant I took the turn slowly and steadily.

Shocked then, was I, when a car tried overtaking me on the right, right before the traffic island and he started shouting at me!

“WRONG LANE MATE!”

I was shocked at how close he’d gotten and that I was being told off so forgot to swear. Instead, I shouted “YOU WHAT?” (Brilliant comeback, me.)

I must’ve looked right angry because he looked shocked, wound his window up and sped off.

Luckily for him, it was then uphill. Otherwise I’d’ve rode him down like the Demon Bike Rider.

I was proper annoyed at him and to prove to myself that I had every reason to be annoyed, I went on Google earth. (That well known stress reliever.)

Didn’t know the name of the road, so traced my journey back to see if I could find the junction.

Found it, then zoomed in to see if there were any road markings visible to prove me right, and (due to the wonder of modern technology) there were, and I could make them out quite clearly.

So to that bloke in the car, the one who shouted at me when he said I was in the wrong lane, I say this:

“I was in the wrong lane. Sorry about that.”