One event I always look forward to is the club mile championship, called the Sparvarger Mile after a Swedish athletics club which visited Gosforth many years ago. It is one of only a couple of times a year when club colleagues become rivals and prestigious club trophies are up for grabs. There are races within races and benchmarks laid down for the next year both in time and good-natured banter. It is when the hard laps covered in track training sessions really pay dividends. It’s quite simple. The more of those sessions you attend, working on your speed and stamina, the faster you will be able to run. And that is where I have been lacking this year. I have been putting in plenty of longer intervals on the road, but not the 12x400m track sessions and the like that enable you to post good times over a mile.
There are four races on the evening. I was in the race containing the vet men, vet women and senior women. Each are separate races within the same race. There were some noticeable absentees, especially two from the club who were in Estonia representing Great Britain in the European Triathlon Championships. After registering and picking up our numbers, the presentation for the Winter Grand Prix is made. I think I only missed four out of about twenty races in the whole grand prix, but I wasn’t in the top three, which shows the dedication required to win that event. Good effort by those picking up the trophies.
After a warm-up and then some stretching and strides while watching and supporting those in the first two races, it was then time for ours. We lined up, ready to take on the 4 laps and 9 metres making up the mile. A quick photo and then we were off. Each lap is different. The first is critical to achieve the right pace. Garmins are fairly useless in these events. You are running too fast and at close quarters with your competitors to really look at them and your timing is done in laps rather than mile pace. Simple maths tell you that 90 second laps get you a 6 minute mile. 80 second laps will give you about a 5:20 mile. 75 second laps would be 5 minutes and so on. You only know your lap pace when you complete a lap and the timekeeper announces your time. You therefore need to know your body, speed and perceived effort to judge the right pace to run from the outset. Going off too fast will mean you run a slower time overall. Not going off fast enough will also mean you run a slower time overall. My lack of track training meant that I didn’t really have that tuned perception of pace needed, so there was a little uncertainty in my mind. I was first to react at the start and found myself leading round the first bend. At least that meant I wasn’t going off too slow, I thought to myself. In the field, there were two athletes definitely faster than me, one of them a male vet, and at least three other vets around the same time as me, depending on our relative fitness. Halfway down the back straight, one of the faster athletes overtook me. I tucked in behind her for the rest of the straight and the top bend and felt comfortable. The first lap should always feel comfortable, otherwise you definitely have gone off too fast. She was about two yards ahead of me as we completed the first lap. I was expecting / hoping to hear a number starting with a 7 as I crossed the line, but it was an 83. Slower than I expected.
Lap 2 is where the hard work begins. After 500m, I was starting to breathe heavier. I tried briefly to stay with the leader, but thought better of it and she pulled away. She sped up rather than I slowed down, so I thought, but I probably wasn’t brave enough here. I could hear a number of sets of footsteps right behind me. I didn’t know who was there. One rule of track running is you never look behind.
The club’s fastest vet is fastest by quite a way, but he was doubling up in the senior race after this one, so was running tactically. Even so, I was expecting him to pass me any moment. It didn’t happen. I was at the front of the little group, taking whatever wind there was as we entered the home straight for the second time. Crossing the finish line, I heard the words ‘two fifty’. That meant an 87 second lap. I had slowed down by quite a bit.
Lap 3 – Do I speed up? Or rather, could I speed up? Do I run tactically and wait for a fast finish? While I was at the front, I decided on the latter and maintained my pace. Halfway down the back straight, the fastest vet eased alongside me and then showed his considerable speed as we went round the top bend, opening up a gap of about 20 yards pretty quickly. I could still hear at least one pair of feet immediately behind me. Realistically, it was always going to be a race for second anyway, so I still maintained the pace. I didn’t register the time called out as we crossed the finish line, taking the bell – yes there was a proper bell. It turned out to be 4:17, another 87 second lap.
Final lap – The fact that we were on the final lap came as a bit of a surprise to me! Not sure why. Every other race I do is at least twice as long as this one. It is almost instinct to increase pace at the start of the last lap. Approaching the back straight, I realised there was only 300 metres to go and I had plenty left inside me. I increased the pace some more. So did the footsteps behind me. I increased a bit more. So did the footsteps behind me. Starting the top bend, the footsteps that were behind me drew level with me on the outside, squeezing me onto the inside of my lane. I couldn’t allow him to get his arm in front of my arm as I might then have to brake and go around the outside. I kicked. Our arms touched and I managed to squeeze slightly in front of him again. 150 metres to go. A long way out for a full-on sprint. I kicked again. Not quite full speed but enough to give a hint of daylight between us. 100 metres to go. Afterburners on. More daylight between us. Arms pumping as hard as I could. Full-on sprint down the home straight. The leader had already finished. The vet in second was about 30 yards ahead of me. I was never going to pass him, but I was catching him. I crossed the line in 5:32 after a last lap of 75 seconds. Third place in the race and second place in the vets, but 9 seconds outside my time last year when I was fitter, but poorly with a cold. Then again, given the paltry amount of track training I have done, it was probably all I deserved. Also, I had too much left in the final 100 metres, indicating I should probably have gone faster on laps 2 and 3. I may have been able to sneak under 5:30, that being the case.
After recovering, there were plenty of laughs, hand-shaking between the entire field, admission of tactics, congratulations when a good time was posted or commiserations when injury or something else meant a not-so-good time was posted. Most importantly, it was great fun and, on the way home, after watching the senior men’s race, I promised myself that I would go to track training more often. That being the case, my mile PB should be eminently beatable next year.