A Shiny New Parkrun Personal Best Time.

I had begun to think that the the possibility of setting new personal best times was a thing of ancient history.

When you start running there is a golden era when you are constantly clocking up exciting new achievements and smashing those old personal best times quite resoundingly at every opportunity. This gives an extremely satisfying feeling as regards your progress, at exactly the moment that you need it. You are just settling into this running thing and still undecided about whether to continue putting yourself through more of that agonising torture.

The beginning runner will log all these times, maybe put them into spreadsheets Then the more adventurous can progress onto the ultimate PB preening process and convert them into a lovely graph that just continues to keep rising. Week by week that line will push ever onwards and upwards and the excitement grows palpably. You may even project the line forwards and it will show, quite clearly, that you will be running 13 minute 5k times in just under 6 months from now. Perhaps you should notify the British team coaches to make sure that they reserve you a place on the Olympic squad.

The more cautious of you may hold back on that Team Britain notification and sure enough we all find that the graph begins to flatten out and sometimes can even dip a little. After that, improvements are slow and often come with a change in training or weight or terrain (downhill courses can be great confidence boosters).

To go with this, we all have this rather annoying habit of growing older. Received wisdom seems to be that speed diminishes with the years although endurance can hang on a little longer. This may be why so many track athletes move on to longer distances as they grow older.

I had thought my moment of improving times was long past. My last Parkrun PB was way back in 2015 when I ran 25.54. I drifted a long way from that and by 2018 I had dropped to around 29 minutes.

Then I signed up for ‘Race To The Stones’ and increased my running and who would a thought it, my times began to improve.

Of course I was still a long way from that PB back in 2015 but I knew with unshakeable certainty that such times were no longer achievable.

Down With Calories

I continued to train and as I gallumphed around the streets I began to wonder whether this might be a easier if I had a little less weight to drag around. Maybe I should try to cut down the calorie intake.

Hmmm, how could I possibly eat any less. I’m sure that I eat barely enough to keep a mouse alive. If I consume less I will surely be fainting from exhaustion and be just too damn weak to switch on my computer.

Unfortunately I spotted one easy target straight away. At around 09:25 every day a snack van stops at my workplace. I would immediately stop whatever I was doing and dash out to bag myself a tasty Ginsters large sausage roll. It was warm, comforting and delicious. Whatever may have been happening that morning at work was immediately cast into the shade while I basked in that joyful delicious yumminess.

The downside to all this joy was that it shoved a hefty 500 plus calories into my body all in one go. If we assume 2500 calories to be about the right daily intake for an adult male then I was demolishing a fifth of this as a mid morning snack.

It was a difficult decision but I decided to go for it. I have since managed to resist them but every time the snack van call goes out I still feel the urge to dash downstairs and shove a sausage roll in my gob.

Thankfully this change, plus keeping a more careful eye on my main meals, has meant that the weight has started to shift. I had crept up to a mighty XL and have now edged back into the realm of semi-mighty ‘large’ size.

Along with this weight loss my times have been improving and today at Parkrun I smashed my 2015 PB by 50 seconds.

Cambridge Parkrun

I wasn’t particularly looking for a PB but had noticed that my times had kind of edged into that territory with a few 26:10, 26:15 etc. Maybe the PB of 25:54 was looking as if it might be achievable.

I set off fairly slowly, hemmed in by the crowds. I began to get faster just to try find myself a little bit of space in which to run. I would move past some people to then become engulfed in an entirely different group. Maybe just keep overtaking. There must be some space somewhere.

Then the 26 minute pacer came flashing by and was soon vanishing off into the distance. Defeatist Jim dismissed the possibility of following the pacer almost immediately. He was moving far too fast and there was absolutely no chance of keeping up with him.

Every now and again Jim suffers a slight attack of optimism and this, it seems was one of those times. I thought that I probably did have no chance of keeping up with him but I was feeling fairly good at that moment so why not burn up some of that energy now and then I could fall back later if I needed to (I did say that it was only very slight optimism).

I set off after the pacer and was soon following closely. It was then that I discovered one of the irritations of following a pacer. It seems that other people are doing this also and we are beginning to collect quite a sizeable group. I am now back in the realm of too many people all clustered around me on this very narrow track. I stay with it for a little while but then take the rather bizarre decision to push on in front of the pacer. I’ll just find myself a bit of space, push on for a while then the 26 minute chap will probably pass me some time after the 3k marker.

I’ve passed the 3k sign and he still hasn’t caught me. I start to wonder if maybe he’s had to drop out for some reason.

At just after 4k I hear him behind me getting all shouty and motivational. “C’mon you guys’ he shouts. ‘We are about 3 seconds up on the pace but don’t slack off now. There’s only about 4 minutes to go. It’s possible to put up with anything for just 4 minutes.’ Unfortunately I don’t think I respond well to motivational stuff. When I hear statements such as this, my first inclination is to get all pissy and start arguing with them (at least inside my head). Then I think, no I’m not going to do what you say. I shall run my own race, thank you very much. Yes, yes, I know that my reaction is ridiculous. This lovely chap is trying to help everyone around him to achieve their potential. I never claimed to be a rational creature.

It’s a struggle now but I manage to hold my pace and even increase it slightly. The voice of the 26 minute pacer is still plainly audible but he’s not getting any closer.

Turning the corner on to the final straight I see, there in the distance is another pacer. This is a chap wearing a vest with the number 25. Surely this can’t be the 25 minute pacer. Maybe something has gone wrong and he’s strayed off his time. I try to chase him down anyway with that tiny little optimistic voice inside me suggesting that maybe, just maybe I’m not that far away from 25 minutes.

Crossing the line I totter through the funnel and then collapse on to my knees inhaling huge gasps of oxygen. That last effort really pushed up my heart rate and had me fighting for breath.

Running friend Richard is there to greet me and he is also recovering from completing his fastest run this year. It seems that there is something in the air today. It was a good day to run.

I check my watch and it says 25:06. My PB before this was 25:54. That’s just remarkable. It’s also incredibly poor training for the 100k Race To The Stones where a speedy 5k time is not going to help me one jot.