Review of the Great Manchester Run 10k - 20th May 2018
For the first time ever after completing
a marathon (London Marathon last month), I continued training so that I could
make the Manchester 10k in good condition.
Furthermore, a whole bunch of us from the #MileShyClub had been
following a 9-week training plan specifically for this race, so whether or not
I finished it in an amazing time didn’t matter.
It was going to be a fun day out regardless.
The Manchester 10k is one of those established
races that has been in the Manchester running calendar for many years, but if I
am being totally honest, I have had no desire to do this particular race. The huge crowds (30,000) and the rather
boring route, plus the expensive entry fee of £35 had always put me off. I have previously supported family and
friends who have taken on this race, but never felt an inclination to
participate… until now. The timing of
the race suited the burgeoning numbers of 5k #MileShyClub runners ready to take
on a 10k, Mo Farah was going to be there for the first time since 2007, and the poignancy associated around
the event following the Manchester attacks last year appealed to me. This was going to be more than just a
race. It was about being part of the
Manchester people.
The lead up was just as exciting as the
actual day. Firstly, all the runners who
started the 10k training completed it which in itself was a fantastic
result. Then the club received an
anonymous donation towards #MileShyClub branded tops for everyone doing the
race. This was tremendously exciting for
us as it solidified us as a club/team.
After speaking with various suppliers and working on a few designs, I
was happy with our bright, yellow, bold t-shirts and vests which show just how
cool we are as a running club.
Then in the week leading up to the 10k,
one of the Club’s success stories (Lisa) got in touch to say that the BBC
wanted to film the Club as part of a story they were doing about her running
journey. Naturally, I leapt at the
opportunity, keeping the details secret from everyone until the big day. It was very surreal being followed by a tv
camera crew (you can see the finished film at the bottom of this blog). I had secretly also hoped that Mo Farah might
have made an appearance. I’m quite happy
to admit that I’ve written to him a couple of times now asking him to come and
visit us, and despite the somewhat negative responses I have received to date,
a little part of me will always live in hope… 😊
In the few days before the big day, I
received many messages from runners panicking about the race. As someone who completely understands
pre-race nerves, there was lots of advice doled out. In some cases, I was concerned that one or
two of my runners would actually miss the race due to nerves. But very happily, on the day, we were all
there, ready to take on the challenge.
The plan, which when I explained it to
people would often be followed with, “What?! You’re crazy!!!” was to start in
the orange wave with two other #MileShyClub coaches (Bram and Gordy) at 1.07pm.
After finishing within an hour, we then planned to eat something, remove our
timing chips and do the race again, with the pink wave, starting at 3pm. Lots
of #MileShyClub runners were in this later wave and we wanted to support them
every step of the way (without claiming another goody bag and water of course)!
Bram, Gordy and I got to our start
wave. It was baking hot. Not as hot as
London the 4 weeks before, but hot enough to make me wish I had worn my
cap. But nevertheless, we were stood in
the shade for those initial pre-race moments.
After the introduction of the elite
athletes, including Mo Farah(!), we all bowed our heads for a minute’s silence
to remember the Manchester attack victims. It was amazing to see everyone so
quiet and still, and there was definitely a sense of togetherness in that
moment. It was followed by the song
‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’.
Then with a bang, the race was off! We trundled in the crowds towards the start
line. I told Bram not to stay and look
after me – initially I had suggested that I stand at the back of the wave but
he rightly told me off and to get a grip of my nerves! Thankfully though, Bram
had no such intention to see me through and wanted to try and get a PB too,
much to my delight!
As soon as I crossed the start line, I
switched on my Garmin and absolutely legged it.
I had read all the reports about not overdoing it at the start, but I
really wanted to try and beat my PB of 49 minutes 11 seconds and was determined
to go out hard and continue in that way. I did in fact get a 1k personal best at this point!
I could feel my injured ankle initially
stiffen up then loosen as I pounded the streets. I tried to navigate around some people who
had started off too slow and ended up getting elbowed (by mistake) in the arm
(which has resulted in an impressive bruise). At the 1k mark, people were starting to walk
which I couldn’t believe, and then what REALLY frustrated me were the people
walking together in lines, or even arm in arm.
What were these people doing starting in the fast wave when they couldn’t
even run 1k?
I was conscious of people cheering and
music blaring but I had purposefully downloaded the Swedish House Mafia album
‘Until Now’ to listen to on the day to try and power me through. I was completely focused and in my running
zone, with my headphones in, trying to work on beating that PB.
2k couldn’t come quick enough. I wanted to get to Old Trafford Football
Ground – I knew that was where the route levelled out and started to go back
towards the city. 3k was hell. The sun
was beating down on us going up the dual carriageway, people were walking in
the middle of the road unable to take on the slight incline. I kept squeezing through people and on some
occasions had to ask politely for people to make way.
But nevertheless, I still gave it
everything I had. I didn’t want to look
at my speed on the Garmin – I didn’t have to – I couldn’t have gone any faster
if I had tried. Again, just like London,
the heat started to make my legs feel heavy, despite the sports massage
received earlier in the week.
Seeing Old Trafford ahead, I ploughed
down Sir Matt Busby Way and into the car park.
The ground here felt easier to run on and mercifully as we turned the
bend back towards the football ground a breeze came down the route. After just exiting the car park, I spotted a
friend (also called Jane) and yelled out her name a couple of times!
I had told myself I could bypass the
first water station (at the 5k mark) because I had hydrated so well the
previous few days. But not so. The sun felt even hotter without my cap and
the thought of that water station was keeping me going.
I saw a sign saying it was up ahead and
I powered on. After a minute or two, I
couldn’t see it! It seemed so far away! Suddenly someone handed me a jelly baby
and I took it, then immediately regretted having the sugary sticky sweet in my
mouth. Thankfully, the water station
loomed ahead.
Grabbing a bottle, I washed down the
jelly baby and then gulped back some of the water which was so warm, a few of
my friends commented later that you could have drank it with a teabag. But nevertheless, after tipping it down my
head, neck and front, it did the job and refuelled me to go on.
“Less than a 5k to go,” I consoled
myself, but boy, was I finding it hard.
The usual voice of “Oh you don’t have to
do this again once you’ve finished” popped into my head but heck, that wasn’t
strictly true.
“IT’S ONLY 5K!!!” I told myself, but
even that seemed insurmountable in the heat.
Then suddenly, I felt a tap on my
shoulder.
“Jane!”
I turned to see Becca, a fellow running
coach who also lives in Sale. She looked
absolutely amazing!
“Oh hi!” I gasped.
“How’s it going?!” she asked. I don’t
think she even had a sweat on.
“I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE IT! I HATE IT!
I HAAAAATE IT SO MUCH!!!!”
“Sooo pleased I didn’t do the half this
morning, it’s so hot!” Becca said smiling.
I nodded thinking back to the London
marathon only 4 weeks ago and in hotter weather.
We kind of lapsed into a silence then.
Part of me wanted to run with her, and even finish together, hands raised at
the finish and doing it for Sale! But part of me wanted it over. I ran alongside her and parted with a more
encouraging, “We’ve got this, come on, let’s do this”.
I lost sight of her then, occasionally I
tried to look for her over my shoulder, but I wasn’t sure if she’d gone ahead
or behind. I was so exhausted, I just
wanted to focus on getting to the end.
7k went past and I was so pleased. It still seemed such a long way to go. When
you train for a marathon, 3k is absolutely nothing, but at the speed I was
doing, it seemed just too much. Part of
me wanted to stop so badly, and I had to fight my mind and tell myself to go
on. Another water station passed by and
I took another drink and again doused myself.
I could see the Beetham Tower in the
distance and despite having run the route going into the city centre many, many
times before, I just couldn’t muster the strength to sprint finish. I was giving it everything. Sweat was pouring off me, my shoulder blades
hurt, my arms were pummelling trying to move my body forward. My whole body was screaming at me to stop.
The 9k sign approached and I couldn’t
believe it was nearly over. I still
couldn’t see the finish. I looked at my
watch and for the first time looked at the time – I worked out that I was going
to come in after 50 minutes which wasn’t my PB but I knew I had worked so hard
to get the time I was going to get, I really didn’t care. At this point, I wanted badly to be sick, my
stomach was churning, my head was hurting and the sun was brutal.
The ‘400 metres to go!’ sign popped up.
It sounds like nothing but at that point it felt like a marathon.
Then ‘200 metres to go!” crept up and I
could see the finish. I so badly wanted
to stop but when have I ever stopped at the end of a race? Never, and
Manchester wasn’t going to be it.
I smiled as the finish came closer.
Every ounce of my being got me over the
finish line.
I was so pleased to stop. I put my hands on my hips and took some deep
breaths.
“Jane!”
I turned to see fellow coach Gordy who
gave me a laugh. I groaned and waved but
couldn’t speak.
Then I saw Bram to my left.
“Was that as horrific for you as it was
for me?” I asked.
In Bram’s usual calm and amiable style,
“Errr, yes!”
“Again?” I asked.
We both raised our eyebrows.
Meeting Gordy, we climbed over a few
barriers and made our way back to my office where we had stored our bags. None of us had acquired PB’s, my finish time
was 54 minutes, Bram’s 48 and Gordy’s an impressive 40 minutes (and 3
seconds). Plus, I should also point out
that Gordy had been out partying the night before, drank himself silly, and not
had much sleep. Yeah, Gordy knows not to
brag too much 😊
Back at the office, we all put plasters
on our blisters, drank more fluids and ate a little food. We cut off our timing
chips and then reattached our numbers. I
put on my cap and we reapplied sunscreen.
Then it was time to go meet the others in the pink wave.
“Whatever you do, don’t tell them how
horrific it was!” I said. “Just say it was loads of fun and to drink water!”
As we walked towards the pink wave, the
green wave of runners started to pass us and we spotted familiar faces. Lots of our #MileShyClub runners were contained
in this wave and as soon as we saw them we leaned over the barriers to dole out
hugs. Pleasingly, Bram also got to see
his girlfriend and wave her off, and I spotted other non-MileShy runners I
recognised so it was great to cheer them on too.
“DRINK WATER LOTS OF IT!” I shouted as
they departed.
We continued walking along and soon met
the pink wave of runners. Thankfully,
our bright yellow t-shirts were easy to spot and we clambered over the barriers
to greet our friends.
Unexpectedly, we then heard that Mo
Farah was going to be starting the pink wave race and we all cheered! I was so
pleased to see everyone making the start line, there had been so much hard work
up until that point to get everyone there, not just physically, but getting
people to believe in themselves. And here they all were 😊
And again, we were off!
Crossing the start line, I explained
what the timing mats were for and then just out the corner of my eye to the
left I spotted Mo Farah.
“MO! MO! MO! MO!” I yelled like a
maniac.
The runners surged forward and I knew I
could have gone to say hi and even get a photo with him but I turned to see the
large group of my runners up ahead and knew where I was needed more – with my
peeps!
We all stuck together more or less for
the first few kilometres then started to spread out. I hovered around the back, giving
encouragement where it was due. I started to enjoy the race. Running it this way was a completely
different experience. I sang with the
bands, waved at the crowds supporting us, high-fived the kids.
Eventually around 4k, I found myself
tagging alongside one of my runners who was running for an animal charity. I
pointed out other runners who were running for the Dogs Trust up ahead and she
nodded, unable to speak. She groaned
when I confirmed that the water station wasn’t until the 5k mark.
But soon, we were approaching 5k and I
directed my cat lady runner to a quieter part of the course where they were
handing out jelly babies. Seeing that
she had missed the opportunity to acquire jelly babies, I raced back and
grabbed a handful, rushing them back to her.
“Oh no Jane, I’m vegetarian!”
I enjoyed the jelly babies this time
round, and again, the water station loomed ahead. It seemed much more of a busier dash to get
water this time round, with lots of people walking. After acquiring water, I held onto her
bottle, encouraging her to tip some of it over her head. She did as instructed!
I congratulated my runner on
continuously running to 5k, a huge achievement.
“You know Jane, all I’m thinking about
at the moment are those poor cats.”
Inspired by her focus, I used this to
help motivate my cat lady through.
We reverted to the run/walk technique to
get ourselves through. The heat had made
it incredibly tough. At the 6k mark, I
received a phone call from one of my runners who had finished but was suffering
from heat stroke and was in the medical tent at the end. I told my runner to stay put and that I’d be
with her as soon as I could.
Approaching 7k, we were run/walking
between lampposts when suddenly I heard, “JANE! JANE! JANE!”
There was FlipperMan! I raced over to
see our friend and supporter Craig, who had recently completed a coast to coast
flipper walk in aid of the Christie charity.
We hugged like we were old friends!
We started to pick up a few other
runners following our run/walk routine.
“Not far to go now,” I confided in my
runner, who was desperate to reach the finish.
We reached another water station. I sprayed half a bottle all over my runner’s
top to cool her down.
Then again, to our right, I saw Carol,
one of my first ever #MileShyClub runners holding up a sign which said, “GO ON
MILESHY!”
I gave her a sweaty hug and told her I’d
be running the 10k with her next year.
“Come on, think of those cats,” I told
my runner, willing her to go on.
“Go on without me Jane…”
“Don’t be daft, no one gets left
behind.”
8k went past, and 9k seemed so far off
but soon it was here. Everyone around us was walking at this point, but all
credit to my runner, she did her running when I told her to, and by heck she
was fast when she got going!
“Please tell me we’re nearly there.”
“Not far to go. Think of that medal. Think about how amazing you’ll feel at that
finish line.”
The dreaded ‘400 metres to go!’
appeared. Then ‘200 metres!’
Then we could see the finish!
“Come on, you’ve got this!” I yelled,
starting to get really excited.
To our right, a bunch of #MileShyClub
runners cheered us on.
Then to our left, a bunch of Winston
Runners cheered us on!
My runner momentarily stopped, then
started for one last time.
“YEAH YOU’VE DONE IT!”
I tried to get my runner to fling her
arms in the air, but she had given it everything.
Leaving the finish, I then dashed to the
medical tent to check on my other runner.
Luckily, it was not as bad as it could have been and after plenty of
water and a period of rest, she was fine.
Two more of my runners also suffered badly in the heat and had to have
medical attention. I think that shows
how hard it was as a race, particularly since all my runners were briefed in
advance on the importance of preparation and hydration.
Those that were able all congregated in
the pub in Sale afterwards and toasted to a wonderful day.
After drinks and some grub, I walked home
and despite being shattered, went to the TV to see if we had been featured on
the BBC coverage of the race throughout the day.
I was not disappointed:
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the
heat, or a combination of all that and sheer exhaustion but I couldn’t help but
cry when I watched the video. I’m so proud of every single #MileShy runner.
After a shower and a moment of telling
myself I could respond to messages on my phone on my bed, I lasted about 3
minutes before falling asleep.
Will I do it again? I’m a runner – of
course!
Just a few other running reviews and blogs:
Review of the Wythenshawe Games 5k race - 10th December 2017
Review of the Manchester Half Marathon - 15th October 2017
Review of the Greater Manchester Marathon - 2nd April 2017
Review of the Yorkshire Marathon - 9th October 2016
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