Race report: 2009 Perth Half Marathon 5k

Some time towards the end of May I wrote a long and ranty post about how I was angry at myself for not keeping up my running after the City to Surf last year. I’m not sure it came across as anger, but that’s what it was. I liked being able to call myself a runner; by May this year, I could no longer do that. I made a thousand commitments between September and May to start running again; once or twice I even tried to do so, plodding along half-heartedly and letting my mind defeat me (because that’s all it ever is; that’s the only reason I stop). I failed to properly get back into running, however. But in May, something changed. I decided just to run, and to see how long I could go for without stopping. In my first week back, I ran 9 minutes one day, then 20 minutes the next, then 20 again two days after that, and then 30 the day after that. I could still run, I discovered. I was going slower than ever – I think I managed to cover just over 2km in 20 minutes the first time I tried! – but I was out there, and that’s what counts.

After a couple of weeks of decent runs, I signed Rhys and I up for the Perth Half Marathon 5k race, all the while thinking that if I’d kept up my training, I’d surely be running the HM instead of the 5k, but oh well. As the day grew closer, I began to really doubt my ability to finish the race. I was expecting to well and truly finish last (someone’s got to!), and I really wasn’t expecting anything under 40 minutes, thinking that 45 minutes (5x 9min/km) was more likely to be the case. All this got me thinking that maybe I should save myself the embarrasment and pain and just drop out… but I didn’t. Together with a friend who joined us for the race, Rhys and I engaged in a completely unnecessary carbo load last night of pizza and pasta (and wine) from Ciao Italia, and I got an early night ready for this morning.

My alarm went off at 6.30am and I promptly fell back to sleep. I’d been wanting to get up in time to eat something and hydrate, as I’ve been suffering badly from dehydration for the last week or so. We finally rolled out of bed at about 7.23am, enough time to quickly get ready and stuff down some peanut butter on grainy bread before heading to the WAMC rooms at Burswood. We arrived just to see the half marathon start – a field of some 700 people, apparently! We got our numbers on and lined up to start in a much smaller field of 212 5k runners. I self-seeded towards the back – of course – and before we knew it, we were off. Rhys and Steve immediately ran off into the distance with the rest of the field, and I plodded along, as I do.

Now, I like racing. It’s exciting, and it’s nice to feel like you’ve achieved something, and it makes the training worth it. What I don’t like about racing however is my inability to control my heart rate. I went out pretty slowly, I thought, and yet within the first 100m my heart rate was up to 181bpm! Keeping in mind that at 25 (almost) years of age, my max HR should be 195, 181 is a bit much for a plodding pace. I normally try to train around 160-165, which is even too high as it is, but I’m unfit. My lungs heart from the very beginning – unlike when I have asthma and breathing feels like a strain, I was experiencing a shortness of breath that would just not allow air to go in at all. I’m thinking that was the effect of my high heart rate somehow, as I didn’t feel wheezy at all.

I’d been hoping for kilometre markers so I could judge my pace, but there were none as far as I saw. 8 minute kilometres were my “pie in the sky”, meaning I’d finish in 40 minutes. As I ran along the foreshore, under the causeway and up to the carpark near the Swan River Trust building, I think panic set in. The course was longer before the 2.5k turnaround than I’d imagined, and at about 2.2k, Rhys and Steve passed me coming back in the other direction, and I yelled to them not to bother waiting for me at the end, as I was just going to give up and go straight home (we live about 5k from Burswood, so I was already halfway there!). I stopped momentarily to get my breath and felt like I was going to die – my lungs were in insane pain, and I was so mad at myself for stopping. I could see the 2.5k marker in the distance though, and I was on time to finish under 40 minutes, so I decided to suck it up and just keep going.

I had to have a couple more walk breaks to catch my breath on the 2.5k return journey, which was definitely not part of the plan, but I also began passing a few people. As we neared the 1km to go marker, I experienced that trusty old ‘second wind’ burst of energy, and with the clubrooms in my sights (signalling also the finish line!!), I ran off happily. Annoyingly, as I approached the clubrooms, the official who was supposed to be pointing people in the right direction was gabbing to someone, so I followed the person in front of me, and we ran off the wrong way, meaning we had to backtrack back out on to the path in order to get to the finish line. I crossed the finish line in 38:xx – less than four minutes over my PB of 34:32, and not at the back of the pack! I must have had a massive smile on my face, as the race caller announced when I ran through, “Erin Stark finishing now… she’s smiling too much to be tired – maybe she could run a bit faster next year!”. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not.

Rhys had taken my 2.2km-sooky-pant-give-up seriously, as it turns out, and the boys left after the race, leaving me to walk the 5km home. It was a nice way to cool down though, and I got to see the first of the half marathoners nearing the end of their 21.1km. The guy who was winning it was so insanely fast! Rhys and I decided to round off our morning with a massive feed at the cafe down the road for breakfast. I burned over 800 calories between my 5k run and 5k walk, so I think I deserved it! I’m so looking forward to my next race now – the Run for Gold 5k on July 26. Hopefully it will be a more comfortable run… but should racing ever be comfortable?