Ross reports

Laying to rest the Ghost of Humber Bridge Past

(Humber Bridge Half Marathon Sunday 14th June 2009)

By Keith Ross.

I have at home a medal from the Humber Bridge Half Marathon 2005. Although this "gong" proves that I successfully covered the distance of 13.1 miles, it does not hold particularly great memories from "Superheat Year". At that time, this run set off at 11.30am, but since that year it has been re-timed to 10.30am to try to reduce the duration in the hottest part of the day. Anyone at the club who participated in 2005 will remember the high casualty count and the war-zone appearance of the Bridge as it became a collapsing place for heat-drained bodies in the final stages of the race. For what is normally a 1 hour 40-ish event for me, this time it took around 2.1/4 hours. I'd stopped at 9 miles and then part jogged/ part-walked to what seemed an unreachable finish.

After leaving this event for the next three years, I decided this year that it was time to lay to rest the ghosts of the past. The weather had been on-and-off during the week or two before the race, alternating between very warm and quite chilly, so I was not expecting the conditions to be too unbearable.

Then a few days before the run it started getting very warm, and on the actual day it was already bright and sunny at 7 .30 in the morning!!! Turning up early as I always do (to get parked up, find the toilets, work through the nerves 11 etc ...), I met up with Phil Dewberry who had not entered but was doing a training run over the Bridge, to the nature reserve on the other side and back again. Phil returned and caught up with me just before the start, to warn me that it was really warm out there and I should take care with controlling the speed and not over-doing things. "Oh s - t", this was not going to be a repeat of 2005, was it?!!!

Hopefully not, as I'd tried to prepare better this time by drinking water regularly throughout the week before. On the day I had a sports drink when I got there and drank a bottle of water over the next hour or so. I had suntan lotion on and was wearing a cap and a headband - not exactly taking risks with the hydration!!!

I took the obligatory couple of toilet visits before the start, and as always, thanked God for being blessed with the highly functional and practical male anatomy, enabling the use of a urinal instead of having to wait for a single toilet. As the long line of females queued for their blissful moment of bladder relief, the males went through at a rate of probably 12:1 compared to the ladies!! How do you girls sort your timing out; go early and then need to go againafter the run has started, or wait until the last minute and risk being “trapped” in the queue as the start time approaches!!

After meeting up with a few people from the club and exchanging the usual good wishes, I joined the massed throng at the start on Ferriby Road. The gun went off but no-one really got moving for a while. It took me about a minute to reach the start line but we had micro-chips on our shoes and ran over proper starting-mats so at least would get accurate individual timings.

So off we went – yes it was hot but nothing like what I remembered from 2005. I went through the first two miles in around 17 minutes on my watch (16 minutes “real” running time), so at 8-minute miling I was within my comfort zone and reasonably comfortable. I missed the 3-mile marker but the pace was about the same after 4.

Then at the second drinks-station (between 4 and 5 miles), I had an unplanned interruption to the proceedings. After picking up my cup of water and moving out to get going again, I was sent into a headlong dive as a girl coming up from behind crashed into me. My drink went flying and we both ended up sprawled out on the deck. She looked quite nice actually, and it would have been a good time to do my Sir Galahad bit and check her over!!! However, it’s dog-eat-dog out there and I’d already lost a few seconds and still had the rest of the race to run!! Apart from a slight scrape to my right hand a bang on my left knee (Which came out second-best to the slightly more unyielding concrete!!!), I felt okay. So I just asked the girl if she was alright, which thankfully she was, because I wasn’t intending on hanging around – if only the circumstances had been different!!! I couldn’t be bothered to go back for another drink, but it didn’t matter as there were several more stations on the route anyway (all of which were approached and exited with a certain extra amount of caution!!!!)

So, on we all continued, over the Bridge and following the main road until turning left into Barton, where {as in 2005), the spectators were out again with their hosepipes and water-guns. Out of Barton and up towards Cardiac Hill {not my name, by the way, but I heard a couple of people call it that). Actually, it's not all that steep but rises gradually and seems to go on for a long way. I must admit that, despite my fine super-athletic condition for a guy of my age (yeah, I wish II), I did find it testing and it definitely slowed me down.

Somewhere around this point (around 8/9 miles?) I found myself passing Dan Barras. How did that happen? That wasn’t in the script!!! Sorry Dan, I had to mention this because it was a big achievement for me and told me I must be doing okay. Probably won't happen again for a long time but I am sure you would not deny me my moment of glory!!!

I missed the 10- and 11-mile markers, but I was now going very well after completing the hill as I was on a lovely long downward section leading towards the south section of the Bridge (and unlike 2005, I hadn't stopped at 9 miles !!)

Then came the slight upward grind towards the south tower, where I felt myself slowing down again. Just before coming off the Bridge at the North end, a gust of wind temporarily deprived me of my cap. So again, I had to stop and turn round to find it so lost a little more time. Luckily someone behind me had picked it up and handed it to me so I did not have to take a long time retrieving it.

Off the Bridge and under it, a sharp right turn and then a really enjoyable fast sprint to the finish and over the timing mats at the end – 1 hour 45:34.

Goodbye, at last to 2005!!!

 

 

 

"I'll never forget the sound of those three helicopters”

Amsterdam marathon - 15th October 2006.

By Keith Ross.

Well, here I am, on a running track many miles from home, along with Alan Paine and about 6,000 other "nutters", about to embark on a journey of26-miles and a bit under my own steam.

Twenty-two years after I first took up this crazy sport of running, and the moment is almost upon me the long awaited “big one" the MARATION!!

• The time: approaching 10.30am
• The date: 15 October, 2006
• The venue: The Olympic stadium, Amsterdam.

'Nothing more that can be done now to influence how I will finish the event. I am now ready and set to go.

The obligatory interminable wait for the Portaloo had finally come to an end moments ago. Can someone explain how best to deal with this? Go too early and you need to go again during the run; go too late and you find yourself in an unmoving queue wondering whether you'll get to the start on time! Only, waited about 25 minutes, and came out with 10 minutes to spare- not bad but couldn't have cut it too much finer. Surprising how many "blind" people are unable to see the long queues of patient humanity and go straight to the front until quietly and politely being signalled to wait their turn at the other end of the line. If they can't see what's happening here, how are they going to be able to find their way round the ruddy course?!!

Crowds of people cheering, bright orange batons banging against the spectator barriers, loud thumping music playing, a continuous loud-speaker commentary in Dutch (haven 't a clue that he's saying but it seems to add to the overall atmosphere!) - then just before the start, one of two very special memories from this incredible day; three helicopters circling overhead There is something about this that gets to me. Don't ask me to try and explain, as I cannot describe the feeling without the tears starting to well up. You have to actually be here to understand, but I'll never forget the sight and sound of those three choppers.

The other memory - well, you'll have to read on.

It had all begun round April/May this year, when Alan Paine had asked me at work one day if I fancied running the Amsterdam marathon. Having done several Half Marathons and always finished feeling knackered, and not really knowing if I could go twice the distance without ending up mentally and physically traumatised, I thought about it for a week or two and then said yes (As you do!!)

The training began in earnest in early June. Remember the opening games of the World Cup? Yes, l was out plodding the pavements, while every man and his dog, was watching England vs Paraguay. The streets, were deserted but the pubs, were all busy. I was certainly, in the minority - maybe I had "lost the plot'' somewhere along the way?!!

Throughout the summer months I continued, with the long runs from Hessle to Cottingham the hill reps and the interval training. I figured that if I subjected myself to the heat, some hills, and the mega-distances, then I'd only have two out of three of these to cope with in Holland. Shouldn’t be too hot in October and the country's as flat as a pancake, so I'd only have the 26 miles and 300 odd yards (or as the) say on the continent 42 kilometres) to contend with sounds great in theory, doesn't it?!!

I don't know how many times I got past 2 to 3 hours and then wondered what I had let myself in for. Even a finely tuned athlete! like me can suffer from serious bouts of self-doubt, you know!!

And so here I am at last, four months later and past the point of no return. I've tapered my training done over the last three weeks so I am now nice and sharp. had pasta for the last few meals at home and last night here in Holland, had a sensible breakfast this morning at the hotel and warmed up properly before the start. So, what can possibly go wrong, with my carefully planned time of 3 hours, 45 minutes (based on 8.1/2 minute miling / 5.3 minute kilometre-ing'')? Well, theory is one thing, practice is another!

The sea of competitors in front of us starts moving, Alan and I wish each other good luck and five minutes later we cross the start line and the "chip" tied into the shoelace clicks into action on the starting mats. So here we go!

Good conditions, overcast and fairly cool perfect for running Crowds in the streets and bands playing. a return into the stadium and a circuit round the track quite early on in the race - great atmosphere. And I'm feeling good. I’ve already got the intended "split" times worked out in my head . I'd decided beforehand that I wouldn't look at the watch every mile or kilometre, but would stick to 5 mile ( 8 kilometres) checks to prevent constantly making adjustments and running erratically. Easy, isn't it? But I’m still a novice at this and have things to learn!

Alan is running more-or-less alongside me: but has decided on 9-minute miling, so I start to get a little in front but still feel comfortable. Alan is close to me at 3-4 kilometres and tells me that the pace is a little too fast; it feels okay to me, so I keep going.

Target time for 8K is 42.1/2 minutes: actual time = 45 minutes. Okay, not bad, I’m not overdoing it.

Target time for 16K is 1hour 25 minutes: actual time = 1 hour 28 minutes. Still not bad and not “slipping” too much.

At 18K I discover that the toilet stop at the stadium before the start is not going to help as much as I had hoped. We are now passing trees and bushes at the side of the river and a number of runners are taking advantage of the situation. I don’t really want to stop and lose valuable time, but if I wait, I might get “caught short” in one of the street sections of the event. Okay, I’ve got to answer nature’s call, and I lose maybe 30-40 seconds. But then I’m off again and feeling much better for that!

Target time for 24K is 2 hours, 7 minutes: actual time = 2 hours, 12 minutes. I now start to realise that although I’m feeling okay, the times are beginning to spread out! Not panic-stages yet, but have I been over-optimistic in my expectations?

At somewhere just after 30K mark, the pupil receives the lesson from the master. Alan sails breezily by with some cheeky greeting like, “Hi, Keith, how’s it going?”, to which I reply, “Dying after 25K!!”

And now it’s “hang on for dear life” time. I get to 32K (That’s 20 miles in old money) in a few seconds under 3 hours. That’s 9-minute miling, the pace that Alan had set from the beginning, and he’s already gone through the marker!! So who knows better, eh?

I am now going through the “I’ll never put myself through this again” syndrome – and meaning it emphatically!!! They say a marathon is 20miles + 6miles, and they are right, although for me it is more like 16+10. The real struggle seems to come after about 32-33 kilometres. To get from here to 42K is a real battle of will: I swear someone has been going along the route before me, moving these kilometre markers further and further apart!! I don’t bother checking the time at 40K as I had intended: I’m slowing down, and the target has gone now anyway.

Finally, the last kilometre comes into sight; for a tenth of a nanosecond, I consider the possibility of trying to speed up at this point but remember what each of the last few kilometres has felt like and decide it isn’t really such a good idea!

I eventually make the final turn into the stadium, see a sign saying 350 metres to go, punch the air as I know I’ve now “done it”, and jog along to the finish:

4 hours, 6 minutes, 22 seconds.

I collect my medal, get the thumbs-up from Jim, “bring it on” Kerr who’s in the spectator stand (he’d travelled to Holland separately from us and had run the race with Phil Harvey and Johan Goosens).

Like something from the set of Doctor Who, I work my way through the hordes of people clad in those orange full-length body condoms that have been given out at the end of the race, and find Alan back in the changing area – he’s done 3 hours, 59 minutes, 37 seconds.

Just under the 4 hours as he’d planned. Yes, in the end I have had to bow to experience, but hey, still not bad for a mere beginner!!

Jim had beaten us both in (A very impressive 3hrs, 35mins, 59 seconds), and Johan and Phil had come in after me.

And finally, no I haven’t forgotten – the second special memory from this eventful day:

A guy on crutches comes in at around 6hrs. About 40/50 metres from the end, he sits down on the track, removes the bottoms of his false legs, and “walks” on his hands to the finish, to a standing ovation from all around the stadium. Who could have scripted that one?!!

Thanks Alan, for arranging the flights, hotel etc… and making this day possible for me.

Here’s to the next one (No, Nicky, I didn’t say that really!!!)