While we’d all love to think that our best race is still ahead of us,  for most runners there’s a race or a couple of races that already stand out as particularly memorable. Not necessarily the fastest you’ve ever run, though it might be. Not necessarily a race that you won, though it might be.

What it tends to be, is a race that was deeply satisfying because you achieved what you were hoping to…or surpassed the big hairy audacious goal that you’d set yourself. They’re the kind of races where you sit back later in the day and think, “I may run faster one day but, on this day, in the shape I was in, that’s the best I could have possibly done…my best race so far”. That’s a great feeling. 

It’s a sad thing if we can’t enjoy what we’ve already accomplished or are so driven by the pursuit of the goals we have ahead that we miss the opportunity to say ‘that one? that one was really good’.

These are the stories of a bunch of different runners from BT RunClub and their best races so far.

We hope these stories will inspire you as you chase your ‘best race so far’.

Here’s to the best races ahead…and running the race marked out before us.

——

JUNE:
DANNY GROSSMAN AND THE 2014 GOLD COAST MARATHON

I’ve followed this series of articles with interest, and each of the previous contributors has given me more than a few goosebumps, reading about their fantastic achievements.  Us runners love a good yarn about the hard yards we’ve churned out, for whatever reasons we may have.  I’m afraid my choice for ‘my best race so far’ isn’t very original, but I just couldn’t look past the 2014 Gold Coast Marathon.

Now, I’m no athlete.  My own mother describes me as ‘not the best, physically’ (thanks, mum).  In school, I was much better in the classroom than the sports field, and through my twenties, I was much more interested in racing to the pub rather than racing round a track.  But after the twenties, comes the thirties. Hangovers become much less tolerable, and concepts of health and fitness creep into the psyche.  5-a-side soccer had become increasingly difficult to organise since I relocated from Scotland to Australia, and I wasn’t really enjoying the feelings of frustration associated with my performances on the soccer field.  Running seemed to be the most efficient way of achieving my thirty minutes of ‘moderate exertion’, and didn’t take much organisation, so out I would plod, on three or four occasions per week.  I felt better for doing the regular exercise, but the same old routine grew tired after a few months.  A google search provided me with BT RunClub, and that was a massive stroke of luck.  Being around a thoroughly inspiring bunch of runners of all abilities, I found myself achieving distances that I would have previously considered impossible, and I even got a bit quicker.

Fast forward about three years, and I find myself lining up to run my third marathon.  I’m in the Gold Coast, and enjoying the company of runners from both BT Run Club, and my current Melbourne training group, the Crosbie Crew.  My first marathon (Perth, City to Surf) was constructed on a foundation of equal parts naivety and ignorance, but ended in a respectable debut time of 3:19.  The last 10km were horrible.  My second marathon (Melbourne) was supposed to be much better, with a carefully plotted preparation, but was largely undone by two-three weeks of illness at peak training.  I still managed an improvement, finishing in 3:13.  Again, the last 10km were horrible.

This time, in the Gold Coast, I’m starting with a really solid block of injury-free, illness-free training under my belt, a healthy respect for the distance, a small amount of experience to draw upon, and a well developed fear about the last 10km.

Throughout the training period I had calculated, recalculated and adjusted my plans for pacing numerous times.  The initial plan had been to break 3:10, which is what I had hoped to achieve in Melbourne, but failed.  Training had gone better than expected, however, so I had a new ‘A’ target of 3:05, with a ‘B’ target of 3:10 as an acceptable outcome.  Training had been fun, with a cracking band of running buddies; most of them targeting a sub-3 hour marathon for the first time.  I considered myself to be the weakest runner in the group, but just about good enough to knock out similar paces on the training sessions.  When some of the guys suggested that I target a sub-3 hour marathon, too, I took it with a pinch of salt.  A bit of generous encouragement, but not particularly realistic given my previous results.

It must have been only a week or two before the marathon when a couple of the more experienced coaches in the group had a quiet word in my ear, suggesting that a sub-3 hour marathon could be achievable for me, if I had a good day out there.  Dilemma.  A sub-3 hour marathon was my ‘holy grail’ of running achievements.  This was a fast, flat course.  My training had gone well.  People were telling me I could run a sub-3 marathon.  I recalculated, but still couldn’t quite see how it would all translate into that sort of result.  And, did I mention, I was quite scared of the last 10km?  To go for the ‘holy grail’, I’d be taking a risk.  What if I fell apart and ended up with another disappointment?  Was I being too greedy in considering it?

I resolved to make a late decision.  Luckily, I travelled well, ate well, slept well and felt decent on the start line.  And, so, it was on the start line that I entered myself into the team of Crosbie Crew runners attempting to run their first sub-3 hour marathon.  At least this way, I’d have some company – for as long as I could hang on.

We are a team of six, and the first half of the marathon goes smoothly, taking turns to lead, holding a consistent pace, feeling comfortable and cruising through the half marathon mark in around 1:29.  If I had any chance of a sub-3 result, it would have to be 2:59; I couldn’t hope for anything quicker, so I had to be disciplined, and luckily the guys are being smart about it, too.

Only one of us has surged ahead at this point.  He is by far the best of us six, and he makes a good decision to go hard with a sensational result to show for it, in the end.  That should leave five of us, but a glance over both shoulders just after the halfway point, and I can only see three others.  We’ve lost one.  Just a bad day at the office, and this one won’t get what he deserves today.  I’m now even more acutely aware that things can go wrong anytime, so I resolve to hold my focus and keep my discipline.  We slip past 25, 26, 27km and I’m doing it; still on target.  Another one of us is hurting now, and he takes to asking every marathoner that gets close if they’re carrying any nurofen.  No luck on this front, but his sore hip remains manageable and by the time we slip past 30km, he and one other have put maybe 100m between me and the final member of our group.  This gap expands over the next few kilometres as these two nail their sub-3 targets with a couple of minutes to spare.

Having started with five others, I find myself with just one for company as we approach the business end of the marathon.  My beloved last 10km; here we go.

The level of effort to maintain the pace starts to increase exponentially from about 33km and by 35km and I just can’t hold it.  Although I’ve slowed, my final running partner has slowed even more.  He drifts behind me and we each face our final 7km on our own.  I’m pushing harder and harder, and going slower and slower, approaching 4:30/ km.  The realisation comes that the sub-3 marathon isn’t happening today, and I make my peace with a sub-3:05 result, consoling myself: it’s still a massive PB.

6km to go.  Hmm, only six.  Not that far.  I’ve trained hard and smart for the past four months, and run well for 34 out of the first 36 kilometres in this race.  So I resolve to adjust the attitude.  My head is just about straight enough to calculate that improving my pace to back under 4:20/ km will be enough for a sub-3 result. With my head functioning better than my legs, I decide that my head will be what gets me my result today, and the legs will just have to take whatever the brain dishes out.  I use a mantra: ‘you can and you will, you can and you will, you can and you will’.  With this, my head exerts its authority and the next kilometre is done in 4:19.  Five to go, one at a time, you can and you will.

The remaining 5km constitutes the hardest physical challenge I’ve ever encountered, but my mantra draws out just enough momentum to hang on by the skin of my teeth.  There’s no room left in my mind for any calculations, and I really don’t know whether I’ll make it until I enter the finishing chute.  The clock ticks over 2:59, and I muster a fist pump before slipping over the line in 2:59:30.

The moment was all the more special for having coaches, Simon from BT RunClub and Tim from the Crosbie Crew, congratulate me at the finish line.  Never have I felt so exhausted or so emotional after a run.

Four of us band of six achieved our first sub-3 hour marathons that day, and I’m happy to report that the other two achieved it at their next effort.  Couldn’t have done it without you, guys.