Everything had been planned down to the last detail but despite this it still looked doubtful. 2 hours had seemed like some insurmountable barrier for so long.
Nike had developed super whizzy running shoes. They had spent millions laying a special track in Vienna and some of the finest athletes in the world would be pacing Eluid Kipchoge. We had possibly the finest marathon runner ever with the best technology currently available. Maybe this barrier was surmountable after all.
I started watching it but like so many runners on Saturday morning I realised that the finish would be during parkrun.
Damn, Damn, Damn!
Maybe I shouldn’t go to parkrun.
Hmmm, nah. I am doing my parkrun. Even Kipchoge making history isn’t going to stop that.
However, I am all in favour of having cake and eating it, so tried to find a feed that I could listen to while I was running. I found a livestream and shoved the phone into my pocket. Linking up the bluetooth headphones I could still be updated with the latest Kipchoge goings on.
We set off at around 09:05 (Cambridge is nearly always late starting) and the tension was starting to build. He was close now and looking strong. He had had a bit of a wobble at around 35k but was now clocking up the kilometres at a metronomic sub 2 hour pace. He was cruising along at a steady 21 kilometres an hour. Just an incredible speed.
I was caught up in the shenanigans of first lap mayhem and had just started to stretch my legs a bit as I emerged from the crowds when Kipchoge put on a last burst of speed and ducked under 2 hour by a whole 20 seconds.
My first reaction was to yell for joy (I didn’t do that).
My second reaction was to tell everyone around me that Kipchoge had done it (I didn’t do that either).
All around the course I wanted to tell everyone that it had happened but I didn’t. Part of me thought that maybe they had recorded it to watch at home and maybe they were saving it as a surprise. The rest of me thought that it would be of no interest to folk and that they might find it a bit weird and scary if I turned into strange shouty person ranting on about 2 hour marathons.
It was a great time and an amazing achievement. I kind of wished I had someone to share it with at the time but I reckon that I probably have no one to blame but myself. It is quite likely that if I had spoken to people that some of them would also have been excited about Kipchoge’s achievement. I just needed to be more bold.
The Grantchester 10K has all the elements for an excellent race.
It has a fine mix of terrain from paths, trail and gravel. It has that most rare thing in Cambridge, a hill or two. OK, the hills are fairly puny but you take what you can get here on the edge of the fens.
Grantchester is one of the most beautiful villages I’ve ever encountered. It has the Old Vicarage which was home to the poet Rupert Brook at one time and is now owned by Mary and Jeffrey Archer (OK, so Grantchester isn’t perfect). It has 3 excellent pubs and another that I haven’t tried. It has the Orchard Tea rooms, Grantchester Meadows (yes, those meadows that Pink Floyd immortalised on the album Ummagumma) and so many beautiful buildings.
If you just go there for the race you probably won’t see much of this gorgeous little village so I would recommend allotting some time before or after to take a look around.
There is a field set aside for parking only 150 yards from the start of the run but I decided to go there on the bike. Obligingly the rain paused for my journey so I was able to enjoy the cycle there, basking in the late September sunshine.
I navigated the path through Grantchester Meadows marvelling at just how much shit the cows had produced and wondering if they made a special trip every time to deposit it on the path. Were they trying to keep the grass clean? Had they deduced that the path had been laid there primarily for that purpose?
I get there with only a few minutes to go to the start of the race, Richard, Lloyd and Eilidh are already there so I get a splendid welcome when I arrive. Handshakes and hugs all round and quickly over to registration desk. I glanced nervously over at the start line as I queued for registration but the queue quickly melted away and I was into safety pin and timing tag wrangling in no time.
I reunited with running pals briefly and then we split up again to line up at the start. We run at different speeds so attempted to put ourselves in the right spot so we would be running at the speed of the people around us. Unfortunately I was ridiculously pessimistic about my own speed so put myself rather further back than I should have done. I spent far too much time during the first couple of kilometres feeling hemmed in by the crowds.
We start uphill running on footpath through the fields in glorious sunshine and before we reach the road bridge at the top of the field the clouds have scurried across the sky and settled overhead to provide a cold slanting rain that seems to be hitting quite hard.
I think this picture of Lloyd gives you some notion of what that rain was like
We change direction after the bridge so the rain feels less of an irritation and we’re heading into wooded area of narrow paths and deadly tripping tree roots. A really nice chap has joined me here and we’re chatting about all things running related, including how a friend of his was waylaid by these very tree roots on this run last year. I met this chap (I’m afraid his name is going to be chap for the moment as I don’t remember his actual name) at the Mikkeller club run at the shop, Thirsty. We chatted as we did the social run together and briefly afterward during the traditional social drinking that follows the social run. He is interested in trying ‘Race To The Stones’ so was pumping me for information about the experience. It seems that he’ll be pacing at Town and Gown so I’ll watch out for him there.
We stretch our legs a bit after the tree section and I enjoy the quicker pace. It feels nice to get moving as we emerge from our single file section under the trees.
Soon we’ve caught up to his friend of tree root notoriety and they get to talking. I am still feeling good and so push on a bit.
Lolloping along toward the 5k mark I hear a strange cracking noise across the field. At first I think it must be something to scare the birds but eventually find a splendidly enthusiastic marshall, cheering and clapping every single runner who comes by. As I pass I mention that I had heard him clapping from a half kilometre away and he admits that actually his hands are quite sore.
There’s now a long straight run to water station at 6k and then back we go over another road bridge and on to the fields once more. There’s more uphill here and it stretches on for some time but I don’t begrudge it a bit of gradient as it’s all leading to that glorious downhill caper toward the finish. It really does make for a great end of race experience as you get the elation of a bit of speed and also the buzz of crossing the finish line.
Lloyd, Elidh and Richard are faster than me, so I get the benefit of them all being there to cheer me in as I cross the line. We’re all pleased with our runs and our times today. It seems like it’s been a good run all round.
Then we queue up for bacon, sausage or veggie sausage sandwiches. These are a great idea as a bacon sandwich strikes me as so much more welcome than yet another tee shirt. Top tip from Eilidh here though. The sandwiches are a bit dry so bag yourself plenty of sauce to counteract this.
We top off the run by popping to the ‘Green Man’ pub in Grantchester. We were going to go to the Red Lion but it seemed a bit fancy for we sweaty, smelly runners. The Green Man was an excellent choice and had some fine real ales.
The only downside to the morning was the fearsome rain which accompanied my cycle home but overall I had a most excellent time.
