The World Masters

I felt that I should have woken up ravenously hungry but I didn't really have much appetite for breakfast. I was very much aware that the calf was still tight and also that the last time I was in this position, a few months back, racing when not absolutely sure of the wisdom of doing so, I tore a muscle just half a mile into the event. Having travelled this far I couldn't not race, but I didn't feel able to get into a racing frame of mind. It was all about simply finishing the event without causing myself damage. That was my personal race. At least I was in a better position than M, who had collected her rented mountain bike and would hopefully have a good ride to the top of the mountain in support. On the other hand, with the skies as clear and the temperature as warm as predicted, perhaps she was going to have a better day. I never go well in the heat.

There was quite a bit of time to kill in the morning, but it's amazing how much got absorbed in collecting numbers and chips and faffing around with shoes and kit. Before we knew it the first race was about to start, the V75 and V80s and it was truly astonishing to witness how good these people looked. Could I possibly be that fit in 25 years time? It was inspiring to see. I was actually quite glad that they run a shorter course than us so no embarassing comparisons of time could be made!

With half an hour to go before the start of the race I began to get in the mood a little - despite E asking me if I was limping! The legs didn't feel particularly zippy but after some gentle warming up the tightness seemed to disappear at least. Psychological? I really don't know. My head was more into survival and enjoying the experience rather than racing and I thought about this odd fact that 90% of the runners here today have absolutely no hope of being in contention for a medal ... me included. Why do most of us put ourselves through all the rigours of training and racing merely to finish half way down the field? I mentioned something to E that I think answers the question pretty well. It came to me that we were like extras in a major feature film. There were just a few people with star billing, who actually featured in the main storyline, but the film would be nothing without all us extras, with our relatively inconsequential but nonetheless important walk-on parts. It wouldn't be a feature without us, for we provide all the colour and the atmosphere that makes the event what it is: a celebration of fitness and endeavour, rather than just about medals. That thought made be feel more at home.

We've seen so little sun this year that I found it near impossible to seek out any shade before the start. The sun was like a drug. I couldn't get enough of it ... possibly because this would be the last chance to feel real heat on the skin until well into next year. It was too good to miss. I had almost forgotten what a summer sky looks like. I honestly think that the last time I saw a sky like this was the morning of the White Rose Classic back in June - those wispy high cirrus clouds that suggest the sky is going to stay blue all day. We just haven't had those kinds of days this summer. Occasionally some blue sky in the morning but of the kind that gives way to bits of cloud soon after breakfast and then to overcast skies by mid-morning and rain at lunchtime. As I wasn't taking the race too seriously I thought it worth the risk of dehydration to indulge in a bit of sunlight therapy.

I had no plan for the race other than to test myself as hard as I dare while monitoring the calf for signs of stress. Actually, I wasn't thinking very clearly because I started too well up the field, harbouring this unconscious desire to stay within spitting distance of E - with a mind to attack him on the final steep approach to the summit. The first small climb felt fine and the pace comfortable enough but then we hit a flattish mile across some fields, with no respite from the heat of the midday sun. That section did for me. It soon became obvious that I'd started too fast for my current fitness level. I didn't appear to be moving very quickly but it just felt so hard. It was then all a matter of mind games as I settled to try and enjoy the run and occasion, getting overtaken by first DA and then AH, and unable to find the will to hang onto them. The trouble with 'settling' is that the adrenalin is no longer pumping, and without that natural pain-killer the running feels so much harder. I'm sure the effort felt greater than if I'd been firing on all cyclinders and running a minute a mile quicker.

The course didn't really suit me, with not many good hard running gradients. It seems to use fire roads in the forest which were quite gentle or ski slopes which were too steep - with not much in between. I much prefer a steady gradient which you can dig into and get a rhythm going. It was with some relief, then, that I finally crossed the finish line, without too much care about time or position. M was there to greet me, but I was suffering from the heat and had to sit down for a few minutes before moving on. There wasn't much space up at the top but I didn't really care - not even when another competitor bent over to shake my hand and released over me a good half pint of sweat from out of his cap! I guess it really was very hot. Someone had mentioned 34 deg at the summit!

We soon met up with the guys from the V60 race and it looked like they may have won the team gold. After some refreshment we took a walk back down to the village directly below and the shuttle bus back to the start where the party and music was already going well. Two pints of beer disappeared very quickly indeed. I still had no appetite for any food and it went to my head very effectively. The rest of the evening passed by in something of a haze. The prize-giving was wonderful, even though it did go on for hours. Our lads duly picked up their gold medals and I stood for the national anthem for the first time in years. I normally object on principle, because it is such a terrible dirge, but I guess this was a very special occasion. We went back to our hotel to eat (with M cramming 8 people into the rented Polo!) so missed some of the more entertaining acts that were laid on for us. It was good to finally eat.

I found out that I finished 52nd out of 104 runners in my category. I was in the top half of the field, which was my realistic aim for the day. By strange coincidence, when I ran the race 5 years ago (as a V45) I finshed 38th out of 76 runners. So, my target for next year in Zagreb is clear. There is definite room for improvement. M is highly motivated too. I think she could be close to medal contention if she can run to her potential.