Is the best competition the one you have with yourself?

Those of you who know me will already have noticed that I can be a teeny bit competitive. There have been many a Fartlek session where I’ve nearly keeled over trying to keep up with the faster ladies and there has been a race after which I’ve been extremely grumpy for several hours because I didn’t do as well as I had in the race before. And although I tell myself it’s not the end of the world, I also wonder if there’s really anything so wrong with always wanting to do that little bit better and having these little competitions with myself.

2017 has already seen a few firsts for me in terms of running. Having already “conquered” a few 10k races, I ran my first 10 mile race in St. Albans in January then ran my first half marathon at Silverstone in March. Despite swearing for years that I would never ever run a marathon I have to admit to entering the ballot for the London Marathon next year. It’s obviously highly unlikely that I’ll get a place but whatever happens I think it’ll probably only be a matter or time before I want to see if I can push myself to that particular next level. That’s the thing I’ve found with running you see – every time I manage to achieve something I just want to better it.

Just 18 months ago running any of these distances was completely unthinkable to me so it was with a certain degree of trepidation that I drove to Silverstone for the race on a very damp and grey day back in March! As with all the best-laid plans, my training hadn’t gone quite as well as I’d hoped, partly due to a recurring heel injury and partly due to a chest infection I managed to pick up just before the race. I knew I probably wasn’t well enough to race but it was my first half, which also meant my first medal (if I managed to finish) and I really wanted the medal!

Given the circumstances the race went really pretty well although I made all the usual pretty standard mistakes. Knowing I wasn’t as healthy as I could be I went off quite quickly on the basis that I would flake out later on and should get the beginning done as quickly as possible - the worst thing I could possibly do – I know! And flake out I did! I quickly lost the pacer I’d been following and could see on my watch that I was completing each mile more and more slowly than the one before. I also didn’t hydrate myself properly and around mile 9 I suddenly got backache. Being no stranger to some pretty painful hangovers over the years I pretty quickly recognised the ache as dehydration. Fortunately the lucozade station was just ahead and after downing two bottles of the stuff I was able to continue. I was also coughing and hacking pretty constantly all the way round the course and could tell my fellow runners didn’t know whether to be concerned that I was dying or just really annoyed at how loud and annoying I was being! Despite all this I found my second wind over the last 3 miles or so and still managed to prance over the finish line in a reasonably respectable time.

Next week I’ll be running my second half-marathon, this time up in Edinburgh. I’m told the course is quite flat (so PB potential) and as it stands I appear not to be injured or ill. The problem with this is that means I can’t think of any reason why this race should go badly which means I’ll be particularly upset with myself if it does! (It almost certainly will now!)

I know I’m never going to be the best or the fastest runner and I’m never actually going to win a race but that doesn’t matter - the only competition I’m really bothered about is the one I have with myself – and that will mean that I will continue to do some pretty ill-advised, borderline stupid stuff! Will I run again when injured? I expect so. Will I run a race even when I should really be lying in bed drinking lemsip? Probably. To me though, if it means I can still chase after and get that elusive PB, it’s all worth it.