2018 Derby Half Marathon

This is a review of the last twelve months.

Looking back over the 2017 Derby Half Marathon I hope I have learned some valuable lessons. I must start slowly and keep to a sustainable pace. That then made me think of the 1965 NSW CHS mile championship. Not only had I foolishly gone for a hard run the day before but, even though I started at the back of the field, I quickly caught the pack when they slowed their pace – but I didn’t, meaning I was running at an unsustainable pace. But back to Derby 2017 where I carried, besides jelly beans and chocolate covered peanut butter, a gel – but, unlike other runners who used their gels wisely, I simply carried mine the whole way. That was not very wise. I must remember to use them at regular intervals, even if I feel that I am not in need of them! Hopefully, my preparation since Derby 2017 has been adequate and will see me cross the finish line in a far better time and condition.

On the downside, the groin/inner thigh problem I had before Derby 2017 worsened in early May so I booked myself in to see the physio, and was immediately banned from running for a minimum of six weeks. My preparation took a big hit. However, with exercises I was able to start walking after one week with light running after about six weeks. At least I was able to volunteer for parkrun for a few weeks, so that was bonus. One thing that really pleased me during this time of jogging/walking was being able to pace Val to a big, well-deserved parkrun PB.

For July and August all my training was on the dead flat plains around Finley, NSW as I was conducting an 8-week ministry for the vacant parish. Perhaps that was beneficial as I wasn’t tackling hills – but the negative side is that both Derby and Gone Nuts are nothing but steep hills. I was able to include the Cobram parkrun during this time. After my first week of jogging/walking with Val I thought, in spite of still having some soreness, that I could tackle a run. My aim was an eventual top 10 finish, which I accomplished the week before we left. Because there were four Strava segments around Finley I had the incentive I needed to work my way up the leader board for the Lake Finley circuit, managing to get into 6^th position going clockwise and 9^th position going anticlockwise by the time we left. I also tested myself out on the 800 metre racecourse segment to see how close I could get to third position. I was pleased with the progress I was making.

My dream of competing in the Bruny Island Ultra Marathon was dashed with various health issues, which set me back so I wasn’t tackling longer, steeper runs. Thus I set my sights upon the 2018 Derby Half Marathon and then the 25K Gone Nuts the following weekend. To help prepare for this I adapted the 25K Gone Nuts training programme. Trying to fit that around both RunClub and parkrun was difficult and it left me with further soreness. Thus, I decided to put off registering for either race till the last minute to make sure that I was in reasonable condition to tackle two strenuous runs in 8 days.

By the end of December I was struggling with motivation to keep running. I was usually OK once I started, and found I could run better than I anticipated, but getting dressed and starting was something I was doing in a rather somewhat mechanical manner. Then in January I developed soreness in the other leg – perhaps because I had been pushing myself too hard once Val and I had joined Run Down Under. I eased back by cutting out sprinting and hill repetitions and running at a slower rate in the hope that I would be fit enough for the two runs.

My joy in running returned. I looked forward to getting out and running without thinking too much about my schedule, except that I tried to make Monday my long run. I found that I was both fitter and stronger than this time last year, so everything looked on track for my two big races.

A fortnight before Derby I had an amazing parkrun, slashing 38 secs off my official time and getting under 24 minutes for the first time. The following parkrun turned out badly. I started so well and was on course for another PB when, just after the 2 km mark, I felt an upper thigh strain in my left leg. I immediately eased back on my pace – even so I still set a personal best for the first half of parkrun. I made it back to the finish line in 25:21 and managed a slow cool down. A friend gave me a small bottle of a magnesium oil to rub in three times a day. So not only did I start using that but I also recommenced the exercises the physio gave me last year.

On the Sunday afternoon before Derby I offered to take Val for a walk though I put on my running gear as we headed out to Port Sorell. This was definitely just going to be a very easy test of my leg and groin. The result was a little bit of soreness but it didn’t hinder me increasing my pace over the trails around Panatana Creek. Afterwards, for a cool down, we drove to Hawley Beach, and I ran another 6 km on the bush trail. All seemed good, but I knew I would have to wait until the next morning to see how I held up. The next morning I was fine but on Tuesday as I went for an easy jog I suffered a hamstring strain in the right leg, just like I did at the same stage last year. For the rest of the week I did a couple of walks, continued with the exercises and the oil. Everything seemed to be improving, but how would I hold up on the big day?

We took the van over to Derby on Wednesday afternoon and found ourselves a lovely spot in Derby Park beside the Ringarooma River. So peaceful; so restful.

And then Saturday rolled around. I was up at 6.00 am for cereal, fruit loaf and a banana, along with three mugs of tea. I was so looking forward to the run and I kept reminding myself and telling others that I would start at the very back of the field and begin by walking the first section so I didn’t hit the wall. Following our race briefing in the Derby Town Hall I jogged down to the starting area with others for the starter’s gun. I had my new Salomon running vest with everything I thought I needed for the run. I milled around the starting area, chatting with and trying to encourage others. It was time and off we went. But I wasn’t right at the back of the field AND I wasn’t walking. Instead I settled into an easy-paced run with our Hobart friend Lyndal Jolly who was competing in her first trail run. By the time we left the serpentine twists to begin on the trail head I felt my hamstring twinge again – from hip to knee this time. Should I stop at this point and admit defeat before I did any further damage? However, I immediately thought of John Stephen Akhwari from Tanzania who completed the 1968 Mexico Olympic marathon with a dislocated knee after being jostled and falling badly at the 19 km mark and landing heavily on his shoulder. He refused to pull out even though he was the last runner to finish (57^th out of the 75 who started) because “My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start the race; they sent me 5,000 miles to finish the race.” That settled it for me. I would nurse my leg as best I could, even if I had to hop over the line.

Lyndal and I ran together for a while until I gradually eased in front and joined a group of others as we ran Indian file up the first switchbacks. It was funny how they seemed so much easier than last year. I was chatting away with another lady until around the 4 km mark when I slightly upped my pace because I thought I was doing so well. As I overtook her I commented about a 69-year-old coming through. I was joined by Bob Harvey who, with his wife Alana, had come down from Ingham, Queensland, for the run. The overcast sky with low hanging clouds added an eerie feel to the beauty of the forest. Apparently it was raining but all I was aware of was the constant dripping from trees and wet man fern fronds brushing me as I continued to run. I tried to watch where I put my feet, especially my right one so I didn’t jar my hamstring any further. Running became easier as I strode along at a comfortable pace.

I had written out my km times from last year and put it into a zip lock bag so I could compare times as my Garmin alerted me when I reached each km. At the 5 km mark I was about 6 minutes behind my previous run but I was more than content with that as I was planning an easier run. Competitive though I am, I had no intention of pushing myself to try and make up those 6 minutes.

By the 8 km mark I was beginning to be ahead of last year’s splits, though sometimes it was only by a couple of seconds. Still, it meant I was gaining without pushing myself too hard so maybe the sub three hour time was still a possibility. It’s what I had been aiming for before my injury. We pushed on up hill and down dale as I continued to run with remarkable ease. All this time I was taking sips of the extra strength Staminade I had made up and which I washed down with sips of water. At the first Aid Station I grabbed a handful of jelly babies and ran on. No need to stop and lose time by restocking my fluid supplies at the moment. And still we ran on in enjoyable companionship. I’m sure that Bob was helping to push me along without my feeling the effects of running by myself and slowing down.

I was surprised at how quickly we had reached the old wall and then Cascade Dam, which was much lower than last year. The rains of the last couple of days, though making the course a bit more difficult, were so essential for this area. Bob and I chatted back and forth as we ran in single file, with me leading the way. A couple of times, when we were on the flat I upped the pace and sought to slowly pull away from him, but he was right behind me again on the hills, relentlessly tagging my every step like a faithful puppy. I really appreciated his company as the race progressed.

There had been sections of slippery granite where I tended to walk crablike across the surface to give better traction; large puddles that I skirted rather than run through – after all, I didn’t want soggy shoes and socks that would weigh me down and possibly lead to blisters. And then there was that steep 100 metre descent over a mere kilometre. Saplings provided stability on some of these sections. Yes, I was getting tired but the time difference between last year’s splits and this year’s was increasing dramatically. By the time I had completed the second hour of running I was basically in the same place I was last year, so I was gaining and getting further ahead. A quick mental calculation showed me that I could easily better last year’s time. But I still hadn’t learnt my lesson from last year. I was carrying three gels but they were still in my vest, which is where they stayed the whole run. Meanwhile, as I found out afterwards, Bob was using his at regular intervals. During all this time no one had overtaken us, while we were slowly overtaking a number of other runners who had started much faster than we had and were now tiring – some badly. How encouraging to know that I was able to continue on with my pace. And I was determined, with my competitive nature, to not have anyone overtake me in the latter stages this year. By the time we reached the last Aid Station I was beginning to feel the fact that we had been running. The young fellow manning the station there asked what I wanted, so I just held out my arms and he gave me a bear hug. Grabbing a few more lollies it was off to tackle the last section. Imagine my delight when Ben Brockman was at a marshal spot and cheered me on with the encouraging words that I was looking good. Upwards and onwards, twisting and turning we sped until I heard Ben’s voice in the distance call out to me again as we had followed a circuitous path back close to where he was. I could feel the vibration in my Garmin as it lost and then regained GPS signals quite a number of times during this and other stages of the run.

We were so close to home and then it happened. In the 20^th km I slowed and the lady I had chatted with at the beginning caught AND overtook me. I mentioned to here that if we kept up this pace we could break 3 hours, and with that, she took off like a hound after a hare. By now Bob had assumed the lead and I struggled to stay with him. I battled on as best I could, lifting the tempo for the final run home and then with only metres left to run Bob slowed so I could join him. Holding raised hands we crossed the line together where I was greeted by Darlene Jacques, one of our delightful parkrun ladies who was handing out our medals. Not only did she present me with my finisher’s medal but she also gave me a great big hug. As did Bob. Thanks so much Bob. I’m so grateful that you stuck with me all that time. I’m sure that your presence at my heels, even if it did lead to your fall in the last stages when you couldn’t see what was on the track, pushed me to a 20:29 PB as recorded by my Garmin. Garmin, with its loss of signal, gave me a total distance of 20.84 km.

At the end of the run it was time for a drink and then I stayed around as others approached the finish line. I sat on a log with Bob as he waited for his wife to complete her run. We cheered as runner after runner of varying ability came into sight and headed around the final twists and turns to cross the line.

Apart from my folly of not using my gels I realised again the importance of being there to the end to cheer others, although they were totally unknown to me. We often think of champions as those who win the race, but I believe that all those who competed were true champions for they gave it their all and persevered to the final line. Well done to every one of you! You ran well.