Day 79 = The Windmill Half Marathon, in Lytham St Anne's! This coast is where I got hooked on my distance running addiction, doing both my first half (Blackpool, 2007) and full (Fleetwood, 2009) marathons around here. So today was something of a pilgrimage to where it all began. A windy pilgrimage.
Awoken by the rain dashing a howling gale against the window, and the wind blowing cats and dogs against it. Not a bad day for a November run in the fair North West. Oh no. It's July. Peeped out the curtains, and swiftly closed them. Stared obsessively at the weather forecast, which bravely declared this nonsense would stop by 9am.
Drove up to the race car park, where the rain had indeed beat a hasty retreat. Hurrah! Fine weather! Opened car door, and wind blew it back in face, as if to admonish me for this positive thinking about the weather. Battled around Whitehaven Lake to get to race registration which was at the other side, and where it seemed that a giant wind machine was blowing from. Desperately tried to pin number to top before it blew off into the sea (this took two people). Queued for loos (always a highlight at any race) and listened to the race registration over the howling wind.
The start was a 5 minute walk back through the wind to the car park, where I had to part with my coat (sob), and spent a few minutes jumping around as if ants were in my pants after they had danced on hot coals, trying to keep warm.
Then the pre-start hush fell over the runners, and everyone did the start-line-shuffle forward, started frantically stabbing at buttons on Garmins, there was a melody of beeping, and then it was off!
The route was two big laps. The first half of each I felt I was flying, which actually I literally was, as the hurricane blew behind us, pushing us down the coast. Reached 4 miles in 30 minutes, which isn't bad, for me. Turned around at the turning point, and began jogging on the spot as the wind slapped me in the face and stubbornly refused to let me run back up the coast. Some time later, made it back up, and turned around to repeat the experience.
Saw my Mum and Dad several times, who were hanging onto the sand dunes, in a truly brave and valiant effort to ensure that quality race photography continues.
The race really passed without much event, other than the battle with the wind. You can really see why there is a windmill here, and why the race is called the Windmill Half Marathon, and so I suppose that without the wind, there would not be a race, and so I shall be thankful for it.
I have recently read an excellent book by a triathlete (The Accidental Triathlete, Martyn Brunt) , which has brought my attention to the fact that when asked about how they got on in a race, those who take these things quite seriously are experts in analysing results, so as to choose the best way in which to report their performance, to make themselves look good. I'll explain. For example, results are broken down into age categories, so for ladies, in running, there are females up to 35 (F), females over 35 (F35), females over 40 (F40), F45, F55, F60, F65. So, there is a myriad of different ways you can tell people about your result - you can tell them your time, or, if you're not happy with that, you could tell them the place you can overall in the race (so men and ladies combined), or where you came in the ladies, or in your age group......or in those who were wearing pink, those who's names end in Z...... And so it seems the trick is to pick the result that makes you look best. My time was 1:42:38 which isn't far off of my PB, and I was very happy with (12 minutes quicker than yesterday!). But none-the-less is still wasn't a PB, so following the above approach, I probably wouldn't tell people my time. I would instead select the following statistic, that says that I came 18/244 in the ladies, which I got quite excited by, even though I suppose I can't quit working, and make a living from race winnings just yet.
I have got just one thing left to say, and that is The Medal. The Medal is an actual windmill, that TWIRLS! It is the first medal I have that does something, and it's also the biggest (but not the heaviest - this goes to the Kent Roadrunner Marathon medal, which weighs 8 stone, and has a special reinforced peg on the wall).
The windmill medal twirled in the wind all the way back to the car. I've cleared out some space in the house, so it fits in.
Stats
Total days: 79
Total miles: 822.25
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