Trotting in to a run

Badge of honour!

I took part in my first race since school on Saturday evening: The 7 mile Tywardreath Trotter.  Racing at school was akin to torture; the running was fine, it was just the racing bit I couldn’t stand.   I loved cross country though, getting covered in mud and falling over in streams and ditches – and taking in the odd detour when the teacher wasn’t looking. No detours allowed at Tywardreath though!  And no need either.

The Trotter was heaven: lots of off road sections along footpaths beside a river, bridleways through trees and a few fields to cross too.  And I won’t forget the incredibly long, steep hills, especially the mountainous uphill one right at the end!  I imagine that on a clear day there might even have been some great views.  As it was, it was raining typical Cornish mizzle and we were soaked before we started.  There weren’t a great many people taking part (weather probably), less than a hundred I should think (ok, so that was way under the mark – there were 168 runners!).  The die-hards were there in force though, clubs from across the county and runners from much further afield too (Devon, Somerset, even Berkshire, which is a good couple of hundred miles away).  Before the race my training partner Jacqueline and me were standing in a musty old hall to keep dry, along with lots of club runners. Of course we were ear-wigging on some of their conversations about who beat who last time and the times they expected to achieve in this race. If that was a tactic meant to make us feel inadequate, it worked!!!  Needless to say, all very macho and competitive – unsurprisingly since they were mostly men

EEEEEEK! Wearing a number for the first time - and looking very shifty and un-photogenic as usual!

Standing at the back at the start-line

The worst part of the race for me was the start.  We stood towards the back of the pack (there was no way I was getting in the way), but there were still a good few people behind us.  When the race started it felt really claustrophobic, like you were being pulled along with a tide and there was no way out.  I dread to think what it’ll feel like at the half marathon in October when there’ll be 20 times more runners at the start line…

I wouldn’t say we got off to a flying start.  No, definitely not.  Jacqueline had a painful Achilles tendon in the first 1/2 mile and up the first steep hill I was nominated as her masseuse! We were right at the back from the off really.  I kept Jacqueline company for the first two and a half miles or so as she struggled on, but had to give in and leave her (as she instructed!) as I was getting cold.  It feels hard leaving a friend behind, but I was also beginning to feel a bit competitive.  Not what I’d expected at all!  I saw people in front of me as markers – a bit like I might use a telegraph pole on a training run:  I’ll just get to that one, then the next one, then the next one… By the time I got to the finish line I couldn’t see anyone in front of me.  They’d all finished and gone for a beer.  When I’d got my breath back I started searching for Jacqueline thinking she’d been trollied off and sent to a first aid tent somewhere.   But no, she’d soldiered on and even put on a sprint finish for my benefit (she’s an amazing sprinter), but I missed it as I was back in the musty old hall trying to find out where she was!  I was feeling very guilty, but as an older runner said after the race “you’ll never run alone, there’ll always be someone that runs at a similar pace to you”.  So if I go haring off next time I’ll try and remember that!

Smiling through the pain! Jacqueline at the end of the race.

Results just in!

Stephie: 155th out of 168 – in 1:23  (woohooo – not in the bottom 10!  Next year maybe not in the bottom 15?!)

Jacqueline: 162nd out of 168  – in 1:29:31

Fastest runner – 0:38:53/ Slowest runner – 1:41:19  Full results will soon be on the Trotter website

See you soon!  love Stephie x