Cardiff Half 2016- Pacing Myself

Earlier this year I was standing in just about the same spot, outside the front of the castle with thousands of other runners. Just like six months ago all of us are brimmed with nervous energy, doing what we can to warm up in the tight confines of the starting area whilst trying not to hit anyone else with flailing limbs.

Way back on a rainy day in March around the same streets in Cardiff I was running in the World half marathon, the same roads I ran during the half in 2014. Today I am looking to beat my time from earlier in the year. With a real sense of deja vu I cross the start line to begin another 13.1 mile journey. Here we go again, again.

The team from CDF and our fellow Nike Squad Dockside runners before the start.

The beginning of the race follows a familiar pattern, the nerves before the start, the jostle off the line, the way too quick first mile trying to settle into the pack and the early glances at the watch to check my pace. As usual I’ve started too fast, I really made a conscious effort to run a more conservative first mile but the excitement of the day and the natural competitive instinct has taken over and I just can’t summon the mental discipline to run slower and save my energy. This always happens. I know I will regret it later.

Just after the first mile though the race changed, it became different to the run six months ago. In fact it was different to pretty much all the other races I have run. I'd been past the first mile marker, had the first beep from the watch telling me I was way ahead of schedule. Around the next corner I bumped into my club mate Jason. He had the splits for 1.22 written out on his hand, about the time I was hoping for so we decided to stick together, to pace ourselves. 

Six months ago I saw him at about the same point, lost in the chase for a PB and in a desperate attempt to bank some time and get ahead of schedule we exchanged a few quick words before I was back in my own lonely world again, chasing times. Now for the first time during a race I thought about what could happen later, about the wall I was going to hit, I chose to keep something in reserve for it. We also had the added benefit of keeping each other company. As the miles ticked by we kept each other on pace when the temptation was to try and run that bit quicker. 

Jason and I just past the half way point still looking happy

In many ways pacing myself during a race is similar to how I have to deal with my M.E. A lot of the time it's all about trying to keep something in reserve for later, storing some energy for when you need it further down the line. How to use my energy and when to try and leave something in reserve to cope with the unexpected is one of the most difficult things to learn. It's something I'm still trying to get my head around.

On the days when I feel good, it's so tempting to do as much as I can, to use up those reserves. It's so hard to hold myself back and tell myself I may just need that energy for later. It takes huge discipline not to do something you want because of the possible consequences. It's a challenge that more often than not I fail.

The difficult thing is keeping energy in reserve for things that may never happen. A few weeks ago I did two races in two days, something that looking back was kind of stupid and which left me feeling completely shattered. In the days afterwards work became unexpectedly busy and I struggled to keep on going. It was my real world equivalent of hitting the wall in the marathon, I had run out of energy and just didn't have the reserves to carry on. Of course if those days hadn't been so busy then I would have recovered just fine and would be sitting here writing about just how I could cope with two races in days and how I much better I was dealing with my M.E. The problem with M.E and life in general is that we can't see into the future, I can't judge how much I need to leave in reserve for the events I don't know are going to happen yet. It's the known unknowns as Donald Rumsfeld once put it in probably the only semi sensible thing he said. I know that there are a load of things that will happen to me that I currently don't know anything about. It's impossible to plan for them. I can try and keep energy in reserve but then if nothing happens I regret not using all of that energy for the task I was originally doing.

Coping with the unknown is the biggest challenge when dealing with my M.E. When I am feeling I'm completely knackered and that extra job comes in at work It feels like getting to the finish line of the race and someone asking you to run an extra mile.

This is what the reserves need to be for, trouble is when you are caught in the moment it's so easy to say "To hell with the future and the unknowns that may not even happen."

And so this is how I always used to approach my races. “I've got all this energy, I'm feeling good, let's give it all I can in the first few miles, I can get onto the shoulder of that runner who is just too fast for me and try and keep up. If I get ahead of my scheduled pace I may just be able to hang on, who knows?”

Inevitably two thirds into a half marathon at about the dreaded 9 mile mark I would really begin to suffer, the rest of the race would be about hanging on, desperately trying to keep going. Races became about survival. This time hopefully things would be different.

And so after what seems like no time at all we reached the point where I always hit the wall. It’s a section of the course around Roath park, one of the most scenic on the course. I always hate it. If you drive these roads in a car they feel flat. Run it and you realise they are anything but flat. It’s a long slope by the lake, ready to snatch your last reserves of strength and positive energy. It’s always at this point I regret that first mile.

Half way up this non hill is the 10 mile sign, and on this day things were different. Rather than hitting the wall I still felt strong. At the point where runners normally start passing me, I was feeling strong, able to keep the pace and catch those in front of me. The last few miles became a chase to try and get under 1.20. The early pacing had meant I could push in the second half of the race and my dodgy mental arithmetic told me I could get somewhere close. I had to give it a go. This time though the clock just beat me by a few seconds. Still I guess it’s something to chase for next year.

Splits from the race, if only I had been 8 seconds quicker!

Finally I had learnt to pace myself during a race, it felt like a much better much more controlled way to run, no longer was I trying to survive to the finish, I was fighting to reach it as quickly as possible. If only I had just paced myself 8 seconds quicker. It's strange being disappointed with something that you didn't think possible at the start of the day.

So now I’ve learnt how to pace a race now I just need to work out how to pace my life, It’s something I could be working on for a long time.

Just after the finish, Happy with the days work!