Robin Hood Half Marathon

Today I do my 8^th Nottingham Robin Hood Half Marathon, L is doing it too. I’m not sure how many times that is now for her but it’s way more than eight. It’s L’s sister’s second time and we meet her at Nottingham University before getting the tram to the start which involves changing lines at the railway station. Oh, and it’s raining.

Thankfully the weather does improve and the rain largely holds off for the race but soaks us afterwards.

This year the course has been tweaked slightly and the start moved further back but I’m not too sure what this is to accommodate. I line up in the ‘red’ zone as usual, hoping for something around about 1:45. My fastest Nottingham Half was my first one back in 2010 when I ran 1:36:22. This is actually also my overall half marathon PB that I have little or no chance of getting near these days.

I fix my eye on the 1:45 pacer and then off we go. Unfortunately he turns out to be a nutter, setting out way too fast over the hilly first few miles. On my reckoning he is up on his pace by a couple of minutes after three miles when he should probably be slightly down at this point and intending to make it up on the flatter parts of the course.

At the first drinks station somebody hands me a bottle of water and I’m like ‘YES, it’s in  a bottle’. It is so good to finally see the back of the dreaded water pouches.

Despite the breakneck pace set by my pacer I just about cling onto his shirt tails until I start to lose touch as he fleetfootedly, and inexplicably, skips through the congestion caused by the narrow sections in Wollaton Park. It's as if he’s trying to lose his flock. Perhaps he is.

Coming out of Wollaton Park I see Daughter at the 7 mile point and inflict a sweaty hug on her before renewing my pursuit of my pacer before finally giving up the chase a few miles further down the road.

As we get to the last mile the excellent Race Angels, provided by Notts Womens Runners, are on hand to help you get through that final mile but they seem to show no inclination in helping an old man break 1:45. I gather I am not their target audience.

Rumours of them handing out chilled glasses of Pinot as part of the service also appear not to be true. Which is a shame, as it would be one up on the Great North Run Beer Stop.

Then I’m at the 13 mile marker and into the last few hundred metres which is on the grass and was a bit like cross-country running. I slither across the line in 1:47:14. It would have been oh so different if I'd had that Pinot.

Sadly after two years of handing out t-shirt to all finishers the organisers have again reverted to not having one which is very poor. The post-race snacks, in common with other big races, were also very poor.

What is good at Nottingham are the massages. Once again Sheffield Hallam University provide a girl for each leg (or a guy if you prefer). Great North Run take note of that and also that they have a least double the number of massage tables you did for a field about an eighth of the size.

Robin Hood Half Marathon

Today I am doing my seventh Robin Hood Half Marathon, L is doing her ninth while Daughter and L’s sister are doing their first.

L also did the Marathon back in 2003 but sadly there is no Marathon at all this year. Yet they are still promoting the races as 'Marathon Events'...

The organisers have admitted that runners found the Marathon route boring and that there were not enough spectators around to cheer them on. Of course this sort of feedback from competitors was meant to spur the organisers on into organising a better Marathon, probably as a standalone event, but instead they have thrown the towel in. So no Marathon this year which must leave Nottingham in the embarrassing situation of being the largest UK city not to have a Marathon. Hopefully it will be back soon.

What Nottingham does have is a pretty decent half marathon course with a few challenging hills packed into the first three miles followed by the rewarding descent of Derby Road leading on to the remainder of the course which is predominantly flat-ish.

I have to be pleased with my time of 1:44:22 which is thirty seconds up on last year and my second quickest on this course behind a 1:43 in 2016. My fastest ever Nottingham was an insane 1:36 back in 2010 but that was on a very different course.

L and her sister run together but they are both trailing in Daughter’s wake who runs 2:23 at her first attempt. What’s more she even seems to enjoy it.

I could potentially have been even quicker had it not been for a game of hunt the Father. My Dad was supposed to be watching from Crown Island but could I or anyone else find him? Nope. I did briefly lose contact with the 1:45 pacer while I scoured the bushes for him but I did manage to get back on.

(Sunday 30th September)

Robin Hood Half Marathon

My morning as a fully paid up VIP goes well with tea/coffee laid on pre-race and two dedicated toilets for all the VIP crowd which includes the Elites. Ok, so that bit wasn’t so good and I opted to join the standard loo queues with the masses because it was quicker.

The course itself runs ok despite my misgivings about the organisers cutting out the University and adding in two dead turns instead. L, the dogs and my father are all at Crown Island so they get to cheer me past twice which is much appreciated. The second time I’m desperately trying to hang onto the coat tails of the 1:30 pacer which I fail to do. However my time is still good as I clock 1:43, which I’m actually thrilled with, on what is a well hilly course.

In the VIP tent afterwards there’s plenty of food, drinks, a massage and I get a free race photo as well. So overall it’s quite a good deal if you want all that.

Sadly a short review as Sunday 25^th September was a very busy and traumatic day due to the death of a close family member. The race soon started to pale into insignificance as the events of the rest of the day started to unfold.

Nottingham's Robin Hood Half Marathon

Today is my fourth attempt at my home town half marathon and the third different course I’ve ran it on. After the dark days of the last three years where they made everyone explore industrial parks that even us local residents didn’t know existed, then made everyone run two miles up and down the Embankment just to make up the distance, this year we are back to something far more interesting.

Key are the return of the loop around the Castle and the re-addition of Wollaton Park. If you’re a marathoner you even get to run through the Market Square. They have also added a few hills. Nottingham is hilly, so embrace it. They have.

It’s the first time I’ve not driven and parked at the start but attempts to get there by public transport seem a total no starter. All the buses have been rerouted and the tram isn’t running. So L tries to drop me off and we get the first inclining of the traffic chaos to come when we find the QMC roundabout shut from 5:30am rather than the usual 8.00am. No idea why.

L drops me off as close as she can and I walk the rest of the way to the race village whilst she heads home to go line the course. The whole of the Embankment is already one big toilet queue with lines of people snaking off in all directions. I hunt out the secret unmarked urinals which I know will be there somewhere and where they’ll be no queue. If only they advertised these with a big sign and put a load more of them in then it would remove the majority of the men from the portaloo queues.

I do a warm up, then strip and dump my excess kit in the baggage tent before heading to the start in the ‘red’ zone, which is quite near the front. Now to find out how much I’ve over-tapered.

The morning had started out quite cool, in fact the Embankment was shrouded in fog at first but that is now lifting and it looks like it could be a sunny one.

The wheelchairs get a head start, as do the elite (not sure they need it) and then we’re off. Time to check out this new course. The first two miles are great, if a little evil. A short, steep climb up around the Castle, a lot of it on the cobbles where it was also a bit narrow and congested. Then downhill into the Park estate before climbing up out the other side on to Derby Road. This is quite a hill but most likely the highest point of the course.

Surprisingly, as there’s been talk of how hilly the route is this year, from mile 2 onwards it’s pretty flat. Not pan flat, slightly undulating with a few bridges like Abbey Bridge to cross that involve a small climb but nothing really to disrupt your pace much. Even the bit through Wollaton Park is flat as they avoid going anywhere near the hall itself.

I miss a drink station in Wollaton Park which upsets my fuelling strategy slightly but I’ve got a steady eight minute pace on now, as planned. Only problem is that I dawdled to nine minute miles on the first two hilly miles and I never get those minutes back.

I pass L and the boys at four miles but miss them at seven when apparently Doggo decided the correct way was the way I went and not the short way to meet me at the next point as I head back out for a loop alongside the University Lake.

It’s great to do your local race and know large chunks of the route, and this year I certainly do. Unlike on the old course where even I didn’t know where I was at times and the crowds are fantastic this year. I don't think there is a section of the course that doesn't have spectators on  it unlike before when in some places it was just us and the tumble weed.

The University had gone to town by providing their own cheerleaders who gave us all a rousing cheer, wave their pompoms at us then for good measure flashed their chests and knickers as well. Utterly disgusting and incredibly sexist of course but exactly what you need eight miles into a half marathon. Although, I probably don’t speak for all the female competitors when I say that.

I see L and the boys again at ten miles as I kick on towards the finish. I feel I’ve really got the hammer down now but then clock 9:25 between miles ten and eleven. What??? Now that’s demotivating. Then I do 7:10 for the next mile, clearly an impossible feat at that stage of my race and then 7:30 for the next one, all without adjusting my pace. So I think someone put that eleven mile marker in the wrong place.

Finally, the first of three finish lines loom into sight. The first one turned out to actually be the start line again, which we run back through. Then we turn right and run through a big inflatable arch, which wasn’t the finish either but was actually to mark the 13 mile point. Then finally THE finish and they are not lying this time.

My time of 01:47:16 is two minutes outside my planned pace but as I said, I lost those two minutes right at the start and never got them back. Never mind, it’s a good marker before I do the new Derby City Half in two weeks’ time.

I grab my kit and join the massage queue. Sadly I’m allocated a big bruising bloke with tattoos to unlock my calves as does the chap beside me. However the female masseur with the impossibly tight leggings working away at the next table lifts our spirits somewhat.

Then I crawl towards town, walking down the middle of the road between the two rows of stationary traffic. Oh dear, this is going to generate many column inches in the local paper. I pick up the Marathon route on Stoney Street and cheer through those hardly souls doing the Full. The route then takes them right through the Market Square, where they get some fantastic support from the public. I meet L here and then we follow them up Derby Road which is a killer hill to have 20 miles in. We have a pint in the Hand & Heart, then a couple at the Borlase, all the time offering our increasingly drunken support.

The new Marathon route is truly inspiring and I vow to do my first ever Full in my home race next year if I can stay injury free. That is if they keep the same route, which is a big ‘if’ as they seem to have made a bit of a mess of the traffic management. Not sure why Derby Road still needs to be totally shut for a single file of Marathon runners.

Having seen the last runner through, we have a final drink in the Blue Monkey before heading home.

Nottingham Half Marathon

So today, my limp around the Nottingham Half Marathon. The first problem is getting there. My usual short cut across Castle Bridge Road by the Sainsburys’ superstore has been closed off and I headed into town having already seen the epic queue along the ring road. Getting within a mile was fine; getting that final mile took about forty five minutes. With no police or marshals directing traffic, it was every man, woman and Robin Hood for themselves which simply made things worse.

When I finally got there, it was long after my father had arrived and it’s not often that happens. Once on site, the organisation is better and the atmosphere building nicely. After pointing my father in the direction of a good spot to watch the start, I slot myself into the sub 1:40 red zone, along with the multitude of different coloured numbers that were already lining up there. My pace was optimistic due to the state of my ankle, not sure what everyone else’s excuse was but at least I was of the right colour.

We start and my ankle feels ok at first as we head past Nottingham Railway Station, sadly currently hidden behind a ton of scaffolding. Then we embarking on the long hike out of town along Queens Drive, a dull dual carriageway lined with business premises. I pass L and the boys who are supporting at the two mile point and then see someone short cut back to the start, presumably to be an early retirement. I still feel ok at that point, so I don’t join them but within a mile the ankle starts to throb and I wonder if I’ll make it round or not.

I hobble badly for a couple of miles but then I guess it goes numb because I don’t have too much trouble after that. So then it’s just a question of surviving the course. Unfortunately the new course, introduced last year, is not very inspiring and by now we’re running through, for no apparent reason, the Boots Industrial Estate. The estate is closed to the public and there were about 10 hardy folks supporting us in the whole of that desolate wasteland. Them and the tumbleweed of course.

Sadly the support out on the whole course is also a lot less than it was due to less places of civilisation now being included on the route. Even Wollaton Park, which was always a good spectator point, that pulled the crowds and therefore helped spur on the runners, is no longer include.

In an attempt to be ‘fast n flat’, the new course misses out any such scenic bits if they are within sneezing distance of mild incline, meaning the new route also does little to promote the best of Nottingham. The old course was much better and even that didn't take in enough of Nottingham.

I had hoped to pace myself around behind some lass in a Robin Hood suit but although the organisers have encouraged people to dress up as RH in an attempt to set a world record, they all seem to be men. There’s not even a scantily clad Maid Marion to be found.

After a bit of scenery around the university and not of the Maid Marion variety, it’s another dull plod back towards the city centre. We are turned away before we get there of course but if you're quick, you do get a glimpse of the castle on your left before they finish us off, literally, with a two mile out and back slog along Victoria Embankment.

This really tests your mental preparation. I was lucky I had L and the dogs there for a quick pat and a snog. That spurred me on for a while but even that wore off as the turning point seemed to get further and further away. Once there, you were in the unenviable position of knowing exactly how far it was back the other way. Evil stuff.

One thing I haven’t dealt with before are the new water pouches and perhaps I should have watched the video they supplied on how to work them. I couldn’t get enough water out of mine, while other folk seemed to get too much. Still, I’m sure they’re a good idea. I just need some practice.

Finally the finish arrives, with lots of people sat in the grandstands and a good jovial commentator announcing people as they come in. I’m handed my medal and goodie bag. Suddenly it’s almost worth it. Still no t-shirt in the goodie bag though.

Then we sit in the stands ourselves, watching everyone else come in. Including two women with orange numbers doing it in charity t-shirts who started beside me in the sub 1:40 red zone but came in at about 2:45, an hour after I’d finished.