First Belgian race (Running)

Monday 08 December 2008 10:56AM

So Thursday was my so-called trial, to enable the coach to see what level of cross country races I should be entering. All went well, I found the group he’d told me to run with when I saw him on Tuesday, warmed up and then started the session – 4×1200m intervals. I ran hard and was a little faster than the rest of the group so figured that would be enough to persuade him I could run a cross country race. That was until I realised he wasn’t even there. The farce continues!

To make up for it I ran my first Belgian race on Sunday. The race was in the foret des soignes, a large and attractive forest on the edge of Brussels. The weather was perfect, a rare blue sky, cold winter’s day, with the low sun shining through the trees. The race was a fast, gently undulating 11km on cobbles, tarmac and trails, and it was big, with over 800 people lined up at the start. Within the first kilometre the race had sorted itself out a bit, with two guys way out in front, then a group of 5 or 6 following, including me.

I find races like this tough. People think fell/mountain running is hardcore, and perhaps it is if measured in how hard it is to just get round, but to race hard at both is very different. In a fell race you tend to cruise to the bottom of the climb, push hard up the climbs, give your heart and lungs a rest (but your legs a hammering) on the descents, try and get into a rhythm on the flats and so on. It is always changing so never feels too full on. In contrast, flat or nearly flat races to me feel relentless – because I prefer longer races, in a race of this length I’m so close to my maximum speed for the whole time that it feels really tough.

Ironically, given my fell running background, it was a short hill where I suffered most yesterday. I was happy cruising along with our chasing group (although we were far enough behind the two leaders that we were no longer chasing, just racing each other), up until about 6km, and feeling like maybe I would make a move at around 7km, when we came upon a short steep hill. It was only about 20m long, but the rest of the group sprinted up it, using it as an opportunity to sort the men from the boys. Long, sloggy hills of the type you get in fell or mountain races, where you’re running up hill for tens of minutes or even over an hour, I can handle, but I’m afraid at short sprinty hills I seem to be firmly in the boy camp. The change of pace threw me so much that I spent the following two kilometres floundering in a sea of lactic acid, unable to maintain contact with the group. The last few kilometres I was able to put some effort in again, but by then the damage was done, and I finished seventh, just under 4 minutes behind the winner, and a minute behind the first guy in the group I had been in.

Overall I’m pretty happy with the race, it’s never going to be my forte, but there’s certainly plenty to learn about racing over this sort of terrain!

Blurry photo here, I’m number 652 in red.