Mary and I decided to drive rather than get the Porty Tour Bus as it gave us an extra 45 minutes to gather our thoughts before heading west. The day started misty and cool but dry under-foot and pretty much stayed that way. Excellent racing weather, the only downside was there was no view of the Ochils as we ran below them.
Alloa is well known as a fast course despite its hills, largely in the last 2 miles. There was a good turn out (20+) from Portobello. Shortly before the start there was an announcement to say the threat to discontinue the annual event had been overcome by the council pledging support for future events. To me it smacked of small time politicking and playing to the gallery, but as I have no idea if the race was really in jeopardy and if the council went to great lengths to save it, I shall shut up about it.
The first couple of miles loops around the town and I started out with determination while avoiding an all out sprint. I fell into step with Gerry and we seemed to match each other pretty evenly for the next few miles as the road rises going out of town and along the semi urban sprawl. The people at the road sides were very encouraging. Even though it was a cool day I decided to take on water at every station available; taking one glug then upending the remains over my head like some student drinking game. When I pushed hard to overtake someone I could feel the needle going into the red and knew I was right on the limit of what was possible.
After halfway or more the road turns left goes briefly downhill and along the long backstretch below the Ochil Hills. I always feel more comfortable on the downhills and picked up the pace overtaking a few folk. One likely lad responded by overtaking me back saying he liked my pace and if we ran together we could pull in a few in front. I saved my breath for running and finding he had pulled in ahead of me and blocked my view I overtook him again,
swapping leads a couple of times. At this point Gerry appeared, having been behind for a bit. He strode past looking relaxed, strong and confident, and continued to pull away as I began to feel the exertions of the day catching up. I went past the ten mile mark at 60.50 the fastest 10 I have run, but had to drop the pace as I was on the edge of blowing up and getting a stitch. There are a couple of hills that would be less of a problem at the start of the race, then as you go round the corner you can see the school building and know the end is nigh. As I approached I saw the clock turn over another minute so there wasn't much of a reason to sprint.
Gerry had managed to keep up the pace and was very pleased to go under 1.20 for the first time, a pb by a couple of minutes. Janet was hard on my heels again, and seeing the clock ticking towards 1.22 sprinted so hard to stay under, that after crossing the line she “spewed”. Now that, in the words of Roy Castle, is dedication. Both of us also got pbs by a quite a bit. She won a prize for either first vet or fourth female or perhaps for just being Janet.
I limped quickly to the changing area and got a jacket and camera to photograph as many of the team as possible. Then jogged round the track for a bit to run the aches out my legs. When I got home I was wiped out and had to lie down for a couple of hours like a pensioner.
Various anomalies in the results - missing folk, wrong times and Andrew Jeske was surprised to hear he had posted 1.46 from the comfort of his home. (He is recovering well from an injury and hopes to be fit for Dunbar.) Thanks to the organisers for the regular and well manned water-stations and the traffic wardens ensuring easy road crossings. Congratulations to all who fought and won and see you at the next one......
Report & Photos Peter Buchanan
