As we pulled up into the car park for the Hatfield Broad Oak 10K my son, Logan, surveyed the scene.
Runners were anxiously pinning their numbers to their shirts, re-tying their laces or putting themselves through some half-hearted drills.
I think Logan sensed weakness. “I’m going to beat all these runners,” he proudly announced.
I couldn’t help but smile before explaining that he was in fact taking part in the children’s one-mile race after the main 10K.
The HBO 10K holds fond memories from last year when, after an interrupted start to the year, I ran a strong race.
When I’ve enjoyed an event, I immediately pencil it in for next year’s race calendar, and I’m not sure it’s always a good thing.
Just because I had a good run last year, it doesn’t mean the same will happen again. Unfortunately, running doesn’t work like that.
As I’ve mentioned before in this column, I’m managing some Achilles issues so I knew I had to be wary of going too hard. However, I could really do with experiencing that endorphin-charged post-race glow runners get when they feel they have done themselves justice. It’s been too long.
The idea was to run at about 80 per cent of my capacity and see how it felt.
The first couple of miles felt fine but when I ran up one of the hills at just before the halfway point, I knew I had to back off; that familiar soreness in my Achilles was making itself known.
From 5K to 8K is particularly undulating, which only aggravated both my Achilles further. It was turning into another tough day and after the race the penny finally dropped: my body doesn’t want to race at the moment.
I clocked in just under 43 minutes and felt flat. My Achilles were painful and not even a really nice finisher’s t-shirt could cheer me up.
I’ve finally accepted, I’m not injured, but I’m not race fit either.
I’ve found the last few events pretty joyless, and I’ve got to stop putting myself in a position where I can’t meet my own expectations in races.
It’s time to concentrate on the rehab exercises I’ve been given and get some consistency in my training once again.
Having to take four or five days off running after racing isn’t sustainable when I need to start thinking about training for the Berlin Marathon at the end of September.
That is my sole focus now; I’ve had to face up to the fact that I’m very unlikely to run the Wroxham 5K or Run Norwich.
I’ve got to get my body in a position where I can properly marathon train and if I keep racing then that’s not going to happen.
But that’s enough about me; the saving grace on Monday was the fact my wife, Alison, absolutely smashed her personal best, clocking in at a rather impressive 40:02.
Much discussion has taken place over those few seconds she perhaps could have found from somewhere but, just two weeks after the 25K up Snowdon, it was a great result.
A sub 40-minute 10K is around the corner but first she must decide how she is going to spend her winnings of £20 for winning her age category. She won’t let it burn too much of a hole in her pocket – she's already spent a fair chunk on the tea and cake afterwards that saw her almost miss the awards presentation afterwards.
Meanwhile, Logan and Lara had a great time in the kids’ race and I think they’re gradually understanding why mummy and daddy like to run as much as we do.
As expected, Logan didn’t win, although he did get some rather odd looks from older children that he burned past early on.
Somehow he managed to convince himself that his medal was gold whilst others were silver... so he must have won!
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