It was a tired group of four who woke to a nervous beat in their hearts that had somehow found some rest during the night. With a mixture of excitement and panic we drove to a small village where we would be undertaking the hilly, long distance course on a chilly morning. Warming up for the race, the BAC quartet of John Sharkey, Laurent Kelly, Cherry Sheffrin and Matthew Kiernan were met by long standing club members Ian Graham, Tony Chutter and forever injury proned Will Thames, who didnt wait long to tell everyone about the latest Dorset pub that he had encountered during the week. Anyone who had been a member of the Bournemouth Athletics Club for a year or so and had just happened to encounter Will so much as once, was well aware of his love of 'ale' and claim that he tried every type of the classic Dorset drink that it was possible to try. With breaking news that he might have discovered another, the majority of the BAC runners took the hint to leave and start their warm up, leaving Tony with the short straw, left to discuss or rather listen to the merits of this new beverage.
It was during the apparent warm up that John Sharkey left everyone behind, perhaps echoing the manner in which he wished to drop his opponents during the race. As I caught up with him however, he had a discouraging look on his face and one which I had grown used to when it was apparent that he wouldn't be in the running for the overall victory.
Without breaking stride during his six and a half minute mile warm up, I learnt that Ian Cardy had arrived and that John saw no chance of beating someone of such a high quality. What with Weymouth hardly representing PB course potential, I knew John had specially picked this race for the win and he now looked slightly disheartened as we approached the start line.
Mu own thoughts about the race as I found the gaps towards the head of the pack, were one of apprehension. It had been a while since I had done a 10KM race let alone one of 10 miles and I was quite concerned that I would tire during the later stages of the run. As it was I found my way up to Tony Chutter, a good athlete but one who I knew and indeed had beaten over 10KM and decided that I would try and stay with his pace. After tackling a sharp, nasty incline that seemed to take the sting out of my ryhtm and by the look on the faces around me, much of everybody elses, we soon found ourselves striding downhill with two Poole Runners.
Although we exchanged pleasantries, everyone was aware of the tension in the air as the rivalry between our teams was ubound in its ongoing loyalty. Although this was not a league race, the fact that a team prize was on offer was enough to set hearts racing. Knowing that John Sharkey and Poole Runners' Mike Grist were enduring their own battle up ahead, our little pack of four contained its own importance in the overall ambition of team honours. Which is why after seeing the discouraging 3 mile split of 18:36 and realising that breaking the hour mark was probably out of the question, I received a further blow when Tony dropped off the back leaving me with two members of the rival gang.
The encouraging vision of John Sharkey leaving Mike Grist for dead up further along the road was soon dampened when John Towner from Poole Runners surged ahead from our little group and I reluctantly gave chase. I caught up to him with relative ease but then it was the turn of his team mate who wasted no time in doing the same. Again I chased while Towner hung behind to save energy for another attack of his own. I knew I was being played like a worm to a fishes bait, but like a fish can't avoid the scent of what he loves, so I was the same and it was the lure of the team prize that kept my mind focused on chasing each attack down.
Eventually however, whatever dreams you may harbour and however mentally focused you are on your goals, your mind will eventually fall prey to how strong you are physically and in this sense I was begining to weaken.
After around 5 miles, they had both left me behind but although I was annoyed that I couldn't stay with their pace, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I settled into a more comfortable running motion.
After a while I begin to find my pace quicken but I was annoyed to see that my 6 mile split time was only 36:41. It meant that I had done the last three miles a lot quicker than I had the first three but I still knew I had a lot of work to do if I was to accomplish the Hour Dream.
With both mind and body focused I endured a lonely four miles to the finish but I kept pushing myself and found myself needing a 5:23 final mile to crack the hour.
Being along the seafront for the final two miles, I could see one of the Poole Runners in the near distance but the closer I seemed to come to him the closer the finish line seemed to appear and as much as the encouraging crowds offered their support I could not find it in myself to sprint to the line, as had become my trademark for races in the past.
Instead I trundled home 8th in a highly respectable time of 60:32. In light of the demands of the course and the fact I was running mostly alone for the majority of the race I was happy with the time but annoyed that we had barely lost out on the team prize.
I spoke to John Sharkey who had somehow managed to take a huge chunk of his 10 Mile PB to come to the line second in an awesome time of 56:34.
So with swollen legs and and humble hearts we jogged along the seafront, looking out for more Bournemouth runners.
The presentation turned out to be the most tense moment of the day when I won the hardly contested, Male Under 20 award presented with the slightly unusual prize of a ten pounds Debenham voucher. The accolodate was nice as I consoled myself with the fact that not many under 20's could have beaten me for this prize today had they turned up. With John Sharkey grabbing his free massage for 2nd place, we took off to the pub where we knew out time in the spotlight was over as it was one of Will's regular spots as indeed most of the places in Dorset are.
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