Since week beginning Sunday 20th September, when I resumed full training after my Scandinavia jaunt, I have tweaked things a bit. 60 miles a week in preparation for the Copenhagen Half Marathon certainly got me fit but I had little pace in my legs and couldn't up the tempo. Anyone who's read my 4 part account of the trip will know I expended a bit of physical and emotional energy the day before but, in truth, the difference would have been minimal. My routine had felt stale for some time so I've adopted a less mileage and higher quality approach which has worked for me in the past. I've been taking it one race at a time. Results in the George Cummings, West Cross Country and National Cross Country relays suggest I'm hopefully heading in the right direction. The Scally was a good workout considering it turned out to be effectively a solo time trial. My pace worked out at roughly 31:45 10km tempo on an awkward course with an undulating second half.
I was sure to have more company at a wet, muddy Bellahouston Park for the National 4km Cross Country. I felt very nervous so was glad to have the race taking place on a Saturday. As much as I like the sport, having your whole weekend consumed by a Sunday race is not always ideal, nor is having to return the work the day after, especially if it hasn't gone well. Over with on Saturday, have a pint that night and Sunday for a recovery run. My model for the sport in a nutshell.
Again, we had a large contingent in a field of almost 350 runners. Again, I had masking tape wrapped round my spikes. I hadn't yet bought the new pair I've promised myself. I marked my territory on the line and got a clear start. All too often folk think they can do strides on the course then expect you to move back to let them in. I didn't get caught up in the usual crazy start though found plenty runners ahead of me. I splashed through the huge puddle/pond created by incessant rainfall all week and got through the first kilometre without incident. The ground was basically a muck heap but runnable and I made steady progress. I overtook a small group and gave chase to more as the first lap concluded. While definitely feeling it, I also felt capable of keeping it going in the second and continued to make good inroads.
The standard in the male senior ranks has certainly risen as there were a few new faces among those around me. Two familiar ones though were Lachlan Oates and clubmate Craig Jardine, both of whom I overtook after a sustained effort. I battled on through the rain, encouragingly not being passed by anyone, and soon saw the finish. I sensed being closed down. Fed up getting outsprinted in races, I worked my arms, lifted my knees and made a lunge for the line, dipping my chest. Craig's shadow appeared in the corner of my left eye as did one of his feet. We finished in a dead heat with the same time, 12:46. Photo finish put him one place ahead of me in 19th. I maintained (light heartedly) that my torso between my chin and waist had crossed the line before him so I should have the nod. Alas, the timing chip on our shoes proved the deciding factor. His foot was ahead of mine. I was 4th counter for the club behind Kyle McLellan (9th, 12:23), Ryan Thomson (13th, 12:33) and Craig. With 4 to count for the team, I'm only glad it didn't cost me a medal. I can't remember being part of a closer finish.
Our efforts sealed team silver behind the ever dominant Central and ahead of our old buddies Shettleston.
Again, we had a large contingent in a field of almost 350 runners. Again, I had masking tape wrapped round my spikes. I hadn't yet bought the new pair I've promised myself. I marked my territory on the line and got a clear start. All too often folk think they can do strides on the course then expect you to move back to let them in. I didn't get caught up in the usual crazy start though found plenty runners ahead of me. I splashed through the huge puddle/pond created by incessant rainfall all week and got through the first kilometre without incident. The ground was basically a muck heap but runnable and I made steady progress. I overtook a small group and gave chase to more as the first lap concluded. While definitely feeling it, I also felt capable of keeping it going in the second and continued to make good inroads.
The standard in the male senior ranks has certainly risen as there were a few new faces among those around me. Two familiar ones though were Lachlan Oates and clubmate Craig Jardine, both of whom I overtook after a sustained effort. I battled on through the rain, encouragingly not being passed by anyone, and soon saw the finish. I sensed being closed down. Fed up getting outsprinted in races, I worked my arms, lifted my knees and made a lunge for the line, dipping my chest. Craig's shadow appeared in the corner of my left eye as did one of his feet. We finished in a dead heat with the same time, 12:46. Photo finish put him one place ahead of me in 19th. I maintained (light heartedly) that my torso between my chin and waist had crossed the line before him so I should have the nod. Alas, the timing chip on our shoes proved the deciding factor. His foot was ahead of mine. I was 4th counter for the club behind Kyle McLellan (9th, 12:23), Ryan Thomson (13th, 12:33) and Craig. With 4 to count for the team, I'm only glad it didn't cost me a medal. I can't remember being part of a closer finish.
Our efforts sealed team silver behind the ever dominant Central and ahead of our old buddies Shettleston.
Above: team silver, left to right- Ryan Thomson, Craig Jardine, Stuart Gibson, Kyle McLellan.
I hit the showers in the sports centre to wash the mud off my legs (far from the only one doing such a thing) and, for a warm down, jogged 3.5 miles to Hampden where my Dad drove on to from the park to pick me up. A quicker time on a muddier course than 2013 and an 8 place improvement. Another race I'm content with.
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