Diary Of A Road Runner

A brief update from the comeback trail!

Well it’s been a while but I haven’t disappeared off the face of the earth! I’ve just not been keen on updating the running blog everytime I’ve run a couple of k’s – hardly seems worth the trouble!

Still, I have managed to keep running with no re-injury problems so far, fingers crossed. It has been proving quite hard to claw the fitness back but I am slowly getting there, increasing the distance in very small increments.

I am now up to the grand old distance of two miles. I ran this last week in 19:43, and then this Sunday just gone, I went out and ran the 2 miles in 18:56 – so my speed and endurance are very slowly coming back and the plan is to persist with the gradualism and not try to do too much too soon.

I have also been swimming on and off, though my discipline for getting to the pool isn’t great at the moment, what with all the kids throwing beach balls around and being annoying.

Onwards and upwards!!

Gasping and Wheezing Like A Dead Man walking on a green mile

Title aside, felt good.

First run since Bolton 10k on April 25th. Ran 400m, back felt a bit odd so walked for a bit, then ran the next 1200m. Actually ran further than I thought, could have gone further I expect, but didn’t want to push the legs in any way. That I’ve run a mile is a miracle. Ten minute mile seems to be my absolute slowest possible pace without walking!

Will try another in a few days.

No knee pain, so far. Fingers crossed, eh?

An update on my knee injury.

Well, after my daffodil exploits were over, it was time to take stock and take serious steps to find out what’s going on with my leg. So I finally booked a trip to a sports injury specialist, pyhsiotherapist, call them what you will – we shall hereinafter refer to them as “physio” to save typing long words

To recap – prior to the Bolton 10k, I had a trapped nerve left shoulder, which was going away, then had bad lower back pain for 24 hours, which vanished, and then ran the Bolton 10k with no problems until the last k, where I started feeling pain in my groin area and had to limp to the finish line. After the race it was hard to walk with the pain, and the pain seemed to move down the thigh and into the knee subsequently, where it has remained ever since, apart from occasionally seeming to move back up to the groin…

So a month later, there is still some pain on walking, so I took myself off to the physio. I went in and gave him an account of what happened, and also explained that I have a long standing issue with that knee from when I was 21 – once, while playing cricket in a drunk state, with a crazily inappropriate action, my leg collapsed under me with a blaze of pain – and this happened several times, once when jumping over a wall, and in fact the worst time was actually just turning over in bed. I went to hospital, they X-rayed, etc. Didn’t have a clue. I went to my on campus doctor. Didn’t have a clue, so I left it… And every now and then the knee would still “lock” if it got nudged at the wrong angle, and I would have to really pull my heel back against my backside in order to “pop” it back into place.. When I started running I came across the concept of meniscus tears, and my symptoms seemed to fit 100% so I figured I have one of those… And was extremely worried upon hearing that untreated they can cause bad arthritis (NB I tried twice to get NHS treatment at the onset of the problem and it was not dealt with very cluefully, let’s say…)

In any case, my new friend the physio did some tests involving me moving my leg and placing pressure on different places, and did what he called a patellar apprehension test – and pointed out my leg was like rock, compared to the other one, as my brain was doing its utmost to prevent another episode of the “locked knee” problem. I wasn’t quite with him at the time, having been convinced for years I have a meniscus tear – but he said he was 95% sure it wasn’t a cartilage problem, ie not meniscus, as those seemed OK – but that I could keep dislocating my knee cap – eek! He also said that my current issue could be caused by some kind of scraping of the knee cap, which is solveable… Anyway, he then did an ultrasound and I am due to go back in for the results and further instructions next week.

I looked up the knee cap displacement thing and it’s called patellar dislocation or possibly subluxation (not as severe as dislocation but can lead to it). It makes sense to me that this could be it, and looks like the symptons being similar to a layperson, it was easy to mistake for a meniscus type injury (especially the “locking” that was fixable by moving the joint/stretching/bending the knee). So looks like that could be it – and the current pain is possibly chondromalacia caused by something in there scraping together.

I guess what still worries me, until the ultrasound results – is that a) the injury had a very sudden onset rather than something that appeared as overuse over time b) I built up very slowly and at 15 miles a week was not doing very high mileage c) it’s stuck around for a long time now, after no running…

I guess I will just have to wait and leave it in the expert hands of my physio therapist, sports injury expert, medical type new friend and keep my fingers crossed he will be able to give me positive news and get me back running sooner or later. Even if it’s later, I’ll take that!

Great Manchester Run 2010 – Race Photos and Report…

I wandered lonely as a daffodil – is that how the poem went?

I had been aware of the fact, ever since the Bolton 10k, that my season’s preparations were in tatters, and that the next race, the Great Manchester Run, being a bit of a ritual for me, and for charity, could be in some jeopardy So at some point my twisted mind gave birth to the idea of joining the fancy dress fun runners, and not long after, the concept of running it as a daffodil sprung up (pardon the pun!) – I was running to raise funds for Marie Curie Cancer Care after all! So I started sourcing the goods to make it all happen! I got my race pack, and was in the white wave, but on the day just had to elect to run in the pink wave. Well, walk in the pink wave, with my right leg buggered to buggery, there was no way I would be running

And so it was not going to be a day for fast running, PB’s, or anything serious – but a day to savour the atmosphere of Britain’s premiere 10k, the Great Manchester Run, and just enjoy being out and running with 36,000 other runners. My eve of race ritual was a little different, concentrating not on eating well or resting, but making sure my daffodil head fit! And then the day itself came, up a little late – and then I braved my neighbourhood streets in my green tights, tutu, and yellow top – saving the daffodil head for the race itself. But I was not to get away with it! There were another bunch of pink wavers at the bus stop – girls – and they insisted I put on my daffodil head for a group photo, and then we piled on the bus and I got admiring comments about my legs. As we arrived in town, I jumped off at Piccadilly and went to get daffodilled up in the loos, and finally emerged resplendent as a bone fide daffodil.

I went to join the pink wave, and got someone to take a photo with my camera, so I could text various friends who had sponsored me. And then it was time for the off and I finally got to the start line mats! It was an odd experience having to walk, I couldn’t even have managed a jog with my knee – yet I knew on a good day uninjured I would have been flying past all these people… But this soon wore off and I just resigned myself to walking. The 1k marker came up pretty quickly, but without my Garmin I had no idea how long it really took – and it would turn out I was in for the long haul in this race! Along Chester road I was overtaken by a caterpillar and accosted by a mad woman shouting “Ray, Ray, Ray!!!” at me – it would later turn out this was someone off Runners’ Forum who had recognised the daffodil outfit but had forgotton I go by the name of Road Runner Rob and not Road Runner Ray It was amusing that I just didn’t click at the time!

Towards old Trafford I decided I needed to use the loo, so looked out for the portaloos – there were some of those weird public urinal things, but decorum insisted that I didn’t stand at one of those as I would have to pull down my tights, skirt, shorts and underpants in public, so I waited for a cubicle. I have never “been” in a race before, so it was another novel experience! So much so I would avail myself again later! This was becoming more like a leisurely sunday walk than anything else, particularly so as the runners thinned out and the roads were sparsely populated. At the 5k drinks station I asked if they had Baby Bio for me but am not sure if they got the joke – and then at the 5k timing mats my sister texted me to ask what time I had finished in

At about 7k Bats off RF started texting me encouragement and said he would wait at the end for me. Poor soul had a long wait but his e-cheerleading text service was appreciated! I gave the showers a miss! And then it was the final walk down towards the finish. I joked with a couple of people proferring vaseline coated rubber-gloved fingers, that although it may look like it, I wouldn’t be welcoming of such attentions – and then finally into the finishing straight, which although less populated than it would have been earlier in the race, still had a good crowd showing – the good thing was I had it more or less to myself, so raised my hands, waved to the crowd, and even managed a flowery little bow as the cameras clicked away, and even got my name announced by the commentator as I crossed the line waving my petals about.

Then I met Bats briefly, before going home to get changed, then going back to catch some of the Great City Games and hooking up with Bats again – both of us ending up on the telly as two shady looking characters standing in a doorway.

So no PB, not even a run – but in a way probably one of the best things I have ever done. You just have to take what you’ve got and do your best with it, is my philosophy. And so I had a ball and wandered lonely as a daffodil

Here are the pics – I will post the video of my Great Manchester Run finish in a subsequent post!

With thanks to Liz, Rachel(s), Janine, Neil, Dawn, Dave (bats), the mad woman, Ray (whoever he is) and the entire daffodil support team Oh and my time? 01:45:50

A Memorial Post – My Dog Finally Ran with me Today – 5 Miles

It’s been a weird few weeks for me – the anniversary of my Mum’s death was April 6th, and it would just so happen that the long drawn out sale of the house my sister and I inherited, was drawing to a close that week. I was on a bit of a high on Good Friday after my 10k PB at Salford and finally getting the sub 50 – over the bank holiday weekend that turned into misery as the trapped nerve in my back became more and more agonising and I could only get the briefest snatches of sleep, unable to lie in my bed and having to sleep on the couch.

At some point over the weekend I noticed the dog was leaving food in her bowl. I thought she was a bit off colour, especially when she refused treats. However, she finally shared some ice cream with me and then went off with one of her chewy bones and had a bit of that. Then she stopped eating again and eventually wouldn’t even touch ice cream, and also I was getting her lead and she just whined and piddled in front of me (normally I would have a crescendo of crazy barking and jumping about, for some reason she went wild if i said “2 bags today?” or the name “George” Anyway, at that point, with the Bank hols out of the way, I booked her in at the vets, and had to carry her there, he did some tests and gave her some injections and some antibiotics, and asked me to get a urine sample. She trotted back home with me and seemed Ok, but still didn’t eat. The next day I took her out about 4 times and she wouldn’t wee at all (up till then she had been weeing as soon as we got outside, if not before). Eventually I got some in an empty Vitalite tub and it was this weird bright yellow colour. I dropped it off at the vets.

Becky then started being sick – I was trying to get the antibiotics down her but she kept puking them up. I thought she might be perking up a bit when she went to her water bowl and drank thirstily, but then sooner or later it all came up. She was just lying in her bed looking miserable. I put her outside and she felt stiff and whined, and just stood there, so on Saturday I called the vets again, and they said her urine sample showed bile pigmentation so something could be wrong with her liver. They said she needed to be seen again but they were shut till Monday at that branch. I made an appointment. Then I sat with the dog for a bit and she looked so pathetic. Anyone who owns a dog knows they have “looks”. Sometimes it’s “let’s play”, sometimes it’s “Feed me”, sometimes it’s “Walkies?” – this look she gave me was more like, “Please, please, help me, do something…” So I phoned the vet branch in the next town and asked to go in that afternoon. I had an idea what was going to happen, just a feeling, and a grim acceptance of it. I gathered Becky up and held her on my knee in the taxi, she was just quiet and still. We got to the vets and were told to wait, Becky didn’t even stir at the sight of other dogs, normally she would be hackles up and growling before launching into a ful scale tactical assault, but not now. I looked into her eyes and just saw what I can only describe as peace and gratitude (I know, I know). She licked my hand once, then we were called in…

The vet looked at her and read her notes, and said it didn’t really look very good at all. He said they could start doing tests, and all that – but if I thought she had had a good life and I was ready, they could… I knew what he meant, and agreed, so I took her little collar off and whispered reassurances to her, and stroked and fussed her. As he shaved her foreleg, I said to her “Just like when you go the hairdressers” – and she had only been clipped a few weeks ago. And then I held her while he put the needle in her leg, she didn’t even whine or protest, just fell asleep in seconds and we laid her gently on her side. The vet gave me a few moments alone with her and I kissed one floppy ear and rubbed her skin one final time, then went out to sort out the bill. She was going to be sent to a pet cemetary in Rossendale and cremated…

There were so many memories wrapped up that dog, and she was one of the last major connections with my mum and dad. The house sale had also completed the day before, so it was like all the last ties had suddenly been severed all at once, and exactly a year since my mum died and I was contemplating her funeral etc. Timing felt very, very weird.

So what has this got to do with running? Well, with the nerve, and the dog, and all the other stuff, I hadn’t been running since the Salford 10k, so on Sunday I decided to do a gentle comeback run – minimum of 3 miles, but 5 would be better. I set off, and at 3 miles I was suffering, feeling rusty, but determined to carry on. I had a lot of pent up emotions. I suddenly imagined Becky becks running at the side of me. She was always too old and lazy and small really to come running with me, but now she could – bounding along and matching my speed. It was of comfort to me, and now I figure she can always be there, can even help me along in races, even if she does bugger off to the side of the road and start sniffing like she always would.

Rip my little Becky becks. Looks like Mum wanted you back. Lots of fusses and treats for you, I expect

A picture from her heydays at Etherow Country Park:

Salford 10k Race Report – A Tale of Pain, Sweat, and Tears of Joy!

My preparations for the Salford 10k, at least in the run up to the race, had a bit of a setback with the onset of my back problem. At first it seemed to be a minor thing, but after my easy run in the week, another sleep seemed to do more damage and I was in real trouble, eating painkillers like candy, and barely able to move without wincing. There were times when I considered pulling out of the race, because the pain was THAT bad, and I didn’t want to make it worse. But then I thought, I wrecked it somehow sleeping in bed – maybe movement would actually do it some good, or at least do me some good, so I decided to turn up, and even if I just trotted round, I would finish the race.

Didn’t get much sleep the night before, every time I got comfortable for a few minutes in one position, the pain would flare up again. I got up, had some toast for breakfast, then walked the dog, and then the taxi came. I chatted with the driver but felt very uneasy about the whole race deal – wondering if I would have to pull out half way through, if I would be screaming in pain with the jolting – or what? I got dropped off and found the changing rooms, it was a struggle to even pull off my jogging pants. I pinned my number on my top, then stowed my stuff in a locker and decided to go outside for a little jog to see how I fared. It was freezing out there! I managed to do a bit of jogging then came back inside. The back had hurt, but I figured I might be able to sustain a decent run if I could run through the pain.

Eventually, we were all at the start line, dodging buses and cars. It seemed a little further back down the road then when I did it last year. Anyway, I set the Garmin to only display the distance and time of day, and resolved not to look at it, but just run to how I felt. I felt quite good setting off, and settled into a pace that seemed to not bother my back too much – the only problem was, with it being a pinched nerve, my left arm was twingeing a bit and my thumb was getting progressively number… I enjoyed the first lap, and felt pretty good, then had to deal with the psychology of doing it all over again and seeing the same scenery. I was breathing very hard at 5k, but felt if I could just stay at the pace I was and save a little for the last few k. As the 2nd half of the race got more intense, I started to find myself drawing level with people in front of me, then overtaking them, I put on extra little bursts of speed to overtake a few packs. By the last 2k, I was really gasping for air and hurting, but just kept my legs turning over, turning over. As the 9th K turned over I did risk a quick look at my Garmin and saw I’d done that one in 4:51. I got a bit frustrated as the 9K marker showed up when the Garmin was showing 9.3K and indeed the last k seemed short from where the marker was. In any case, I thought, only 800 to go, it’s just like an interval session now, just one burst and I can do this in less than 4 minutes. I couldn’t quite see where the finish line was, there were a few of us neck and neck, a bloke with a stopwatch shouted “48:06″ as we went past him. Then it registered – if I could reach the finish line in another 1 minute 53 seconds, I would have a sub 50. I pelted it, thinking I could do it, then thinking the finish was going to play tricks on me and be much further than I thought, I was gasping almost screaming by this point, totally at my limit, then suddenly I was over the line and stopping the Garmin. As I walked down the funnel, I flipped it over to display my time:

49:24

I gasped, and almost sobbed. I’d finally done it. I wandered round in a daze, tears brimming at my eyes, and had to find a quiet spot for minute. 2 years of trying and I’d finally run a sub 50 10k. It had been a challenge worthy of the name! It took a while to sink in as I went to get changed, and had a bit of a chat with a nice chap who said he was running a 5k later in the month and had done this one as a training run. I went off to get the bus, still feeling elated, as the rain started to come down…

My splits were interesting:

4:58
4:56
5:00
4:54
5:00
5:15
5:06
5:02
4:51
4:16

It shows that I can afford a bit of a lull in the mid stages to regroup for the end – if I had been pacing myself off the Garmin, I could easily have though “5:15 for that K, I am stuffed now…” So that’s 2 PB’s where I have just run to how I felt, it seems to work – won’t always of course, but it saves on the psychological games!!

Well, as it coincides with the anniversary of my mum’s death, I guess I will always run this one in her memory – and today have a PB/Sub 50 to dedicate to her

Finally Joined the Sub 7 minute mile club – 6:52

Was wondering what kind of run to do today after yesterday’s recovery, didn’t want to do too much, but wanted to feel I’d had a run out, so figured I’d have a go at a one mile time trial again to see if I’ve made any speed progress.

Warmed up with a gentle 2k, with some faster strides in the second k. Felt pretty good. So walked a little bit, did some stretches, and got to my starting point. Felt a bit nervous – how would I do? Then off I went…

As seems to be usual for me, set off at a blistering pace, almost sprinting, then settled into something that felt reasonably sustainable. Pacing for running one mile is something that will come with experience, but for this run, I knew I could run an 800m split in 3:12, or at least sub 3:30 – so wondered if I could put two of those together. Started breathing really hard, my body responding to what was demanded of it, and it was hurting already – but I only had to keep this up for another kilometre now, I told myself, then it would be over. Glanced at the Garmin at 800m – wahey, 3:24, I was on schedule for sub 7. Then I hit a headwind and the uphill bit of the course which kind of flattened me a little and had me gasping for air, then I was almost staggering, just trying to keep going, thinking if I can just hold on for another 400m at this pace, I’m going to break my PB and go sub 7!

It was pure willpower that kept me going for the last 100m. I was gasping, hurting, my heart was hammer, and I got over 1.61k, or one mile, and stopped the Garmin on 6:52.

Started to sink in as I recovered, and did a very gentle 1k jog back to the house, feeling very pleased to have finally gone under 7 minutes, and now be only 52 seconds off my sub 6 minute mile target. I can see pain and anguish as those 52 seconds are whittled away – but also a lot of fun

Maybe in a few months of hard intervals and races and other running, I will be signing in to say I have joined the sub 6 minute mile club. But the interim target is 6:30

Woodbank Park Run – The Hills are Alive – 26:19

It’s been quite some time since I’ve run a race, and been able to soak up the atmosphere, and just enjoy running with other people (and OK enjoy the odd duel at the finish line!). Ever since they started a Park Run at Woodbank Park, I’ve been toying with the idea of popping along, and sacrificing my Saturday morning lie in I was a bit wary of that park though, having done the Offerton 10k there last summer, and basically died on the hills Finally, yesterday, I decided, yes, I am going to go and do it! Only 5k, afterall!

I had decided to jog the 4 miles to Woodbank Park from my house as I thought this would neatly kill two birds with one stone – a) getting there and b) warming up! I got up a bit late though, the dog wanted to sniff everywhere when I took it out for a walk, I still thought I’d be fine, and set off. Checked the time on the Garmin. Oops, I was cutting it a bit fine I thought. And so instead of a leisurely warmup, I ended up in a race against the clock to even get to the starting line!! When I got to the bottom of the massive hill in Vernon park it was 8:50 and I was calculating whether to make a graceful sweep around the park and back home, or whether I could still make it! No heroics up the big hill, but I did feel a frisson of fear when I saw running things marked out – I was going to have to run up THIS. Again… Twice… I Took a wrong turning, started cursing as it was 8:58 and I couldn’t even see the track/start, and then saw a lady in running gear and asked her the time, turned out she was doing the run too. We both made it 9am, but they hadn’t started yet. A sprint to the start line ensued, then after about 1 minute to get my breath back and set one of the runners’ dogs barking at me, off we went!

I was feeling fine, and raced ahead of a lot of people on the track lap, and did the first k in 4:33 and was flying after my extended warmup! Great! Then we got the the hill going down into Vernon park. Oh crumbs, thought I (well not crumbs, but another word!) – All the memories of the three laps of 10k Hell from last summer swam into my mind, but at least it seemed they weren’t going to make us run the entire hill, ie all the way from the bottom of the park…

Anyway, I managed to get up the hill the first time, and by the time we got round to the second lap I was getting a second wind and really going, and started overtaking a few people and felt great. Then the hill got me again. Kept going, but really started to hurt and felt I was losing pace, I overtook an older guy, but then he took me and sped off. Garmin seemed to click over 5k mark a long time before I got near the track and the finish line, I stumbled over and felt knackered and forgot to even stop the Garmin, although my official time was 26:19, which given the crazy warmup and the hills, was not too bad, and is a target to aim for. Saw the woman from the beginning and we exchanged well dones as I queued up to hand my token to the man with the laptop.

It seems a tough course for everyone, the first place time was about 19 minutes, and not 16 or 17 like it seems to be at most of them. Although not ideal for a time trial, it will be a good progress indicator, and of course doing the hills will be good for my 10k’s, especially if I do the Offerton one again!

I would really recommend the Park Runs to anyone thinking of doing a run, the good thing is they’re every week, they’re free, and fantastic fun for all ages and abilities. Visit the Park Run Website for more info!

Thanks to all the volunteers!

Further Along the comeback trail -4k in 23:55

Well, am slowly getting back to actually being a road runner of sorts! After much time spent swimming or snowed in, and all that palaver, the sun was out today and I managed a 4k trot around the block.

I have been building up with a few very short runs – starting out with a couple of one milers, and slowly increasing the distance until I am running positively long distances at 4k. But it is still an important milestone, as my shins seem to be appreciating the gradual buildup, even though my lungs and heart are hungry for more.

Soon I will be able to think about running more than 5k, and will start to think about upping the pace and meeting challenges, but first things first – get myself back into the running habit, and make sure I don’t do too much too soon and end up laid up again because of it.

Cold but sunny today, felt good to be out running, and just enough to not have to supplement it with a swim. Maintained a fairly steady pace at 5:44/k and that is faster than the 6:17 I was running about 10 days ago, so the pace is naturally coming back.

Thought it was about time I dusted off my running blog again

The Moonraker 10k 2009 Race Report – 50:21 – PB!

Ok, I finally found out why it’s called the Moonraker 10k – apparently locals in that area call themselves moonrakers, and it goes back to a tradition when poachers, about to be apprehended, would throw their spoils into a pond and then pretend to be raking the moon’s reflection, for the cheese…

Hmm, anyway, this was a rematch with what was my third ever race last year, but to date my slowest 10k time unless you counted my first 10k. Last year I found the course really tough, with a big hill and heat, but after this race my times started to improve dramatically. So this time round, I was really looking at it as preparation for my next 2 flatter 10k’s, and was just hoping to get a course PB, and see what racing with the Garmin switched to ignore mode was like.

What a change from last year in so many respects! I had a different cabbie from my usual one, and the motorway was all shut down and diverted. Instead of sunshine and the hottest day of the year, it was threatening rain, and this duly started to come down before the race. I did a bit of a more sedate warmup than usual, trotting around for 15 minutes but resisting the temptation to start bombing around like a mad thing.

The time came, and we were off. I set off at what I hoped was a manageable pace, and kind of let the flow of people around me dictate my speed for the first k. I resisted a look at the Garmin, which I had set to silent so I could ignore the lap alerts. I felt OK as we came up to the hill at 2k, and was determined to take this easy come what may, rather than attacking it with gung ho bravado and paying for it later. A few people came bombing past me, full of confidence, but they started dying like flies as the hill took its toll and I started to overhaul them. I kept my pace steady enough but once I got to the top of the hill I was filled with adrenaline and went flying down the other side, determined to make up, and I enjoyed the downhills before it became a bit flatter. I had no idea what time I was headed for, but just got into a pace I felt I could keep up, and ramped it up a bit when I felt I could, focusing on runners ahead and taking them one by one. By the last 3k it got really cat and mouse, I overtook a group, but for a while I could hear them on my heels and I was starting to hurt. Someone overtook me but I just tried to stay with them. I just had to keep going somehow! A few from an earlier group overtook me in the last 200, and I had a sprint finish in which I pulled away from another chap. It was all good fun. Those little mini races helped me keep going! I crossed the line feeling tired yet really good. I looked at the Garmin, flipped it to show my time, and I had done 50:21 – not just a course PB but a lifetime PB, and with that bugger of a hill as well!

Looking at the splits, the hill added a couple of minutes on to my time, really slowing me for a couple of k’s, but the good news was I had handled the hills well and left myself enough in the tank to run a negative split – did the first 5k in 26, the second in 24:21 – which equates to my 2nd or 3rd fastest 5k best. The reason I could do that, was I didn’t know I was doing it. Normally I would look at my 5k on the Garmin, feel I was behind, and maybe give up on some level, or feel there was no way I could run fast enough to make up the time. Without the Garmin to refer to, I didn’t know, and I just seemed to run faster in the second half quite naturally, without all the mental guessing games. From now on this is how I am going to race, if this performance is anything to go by, it really helped!

Considering what happened last year, this race was a springboard to real improvements – if the same happens again, in the 3 remained 10k’s of the year I hope not to just to beat the 50 minute barrier, but to smash it once and for all