Dunsfold Spitfire 20

I pick Liz up as arranged at 7:15am. She is a good companion is happy to talk running and marathon like only another runner could. We are on the way to the Spitfire 20 miler.

We arrive at Dunsfold airfield and prep our kit. I was always going to run just in my vest and I brace myself for the cold.

They don't stand on ceremony at the start and unexpectedly the hooter sounds and we are off. I had decided to run this event at 3:30:00 marathon pace (5min /km or 8min miles)
I had a strange strategy for this race: I had wanted to blow-myself up, to really suffer pain and misery. This way I would not make the same mistake in the Marathon. The 5min pace would be a 3:30:00 marathon. A target maybe one day, but not really something I could do quite yet.

After a km I am easily warm enough in just my vest. I have my Piranha's on and it will be interesting to see how comfortable they are after 20 miles.

After a few km a lady runner from another local club goes past and (to me) patronisingly says:
"Keep going Petts Wood!"
This annoys me. She is wearing some distinctive clothing(which I will not divulge) which means I can easily identify her. I follow her for another 15 miles, before passing and dumping her. I am medalled up, having a drink by the time she eventually struggles home.

Most of the first lap I am comfortably sub 5 minutes. The last couple of miles are a lot harder. The second lap I struggle and then really blow. The sub-5 minute km average pace drifts out to 5:03. A couple of the bigger hills really take it out of me. However after the ultra-marathon I am stronger, I am more robust. I can switch off, and just keep running. And that is what I do. I keep going, not necessarily enjoying and experiencing, more detached and relentless.

I run past the Compasses pub, on the edge of the airfield. I had noticed this on the first lap and knew that when I reached it on the second lap I would be home.

At the finish I manage an extremely strong sprint given where I have been. I am surprised the second half is not ran massively slowly than the first half.

I go back to get changed and pick up my recovery drink. I make it back to the start to see Liz come home. I bellow at her to get her over the line and she does a decent sprint. Some fellow spectators look shocked. Alas she is 20 seconds outside her time for last year.

I had really enjoyed this run last year. This year it was okay. There was not enough water. They handed water out in little plastic cups which were half full. For a decent race you need bottles. The other problem (not the organisers fault) is the lack of supporters. I like running in front of a crowd as it keeps you going. There is no crowd at this event.

The Pirahna's were fine and I will definitely wear them for the Marathon. The sickly, sweet gels had not given me much of a boost and after the run I just feel slightly sick.

I had suffered, and struggled but it was over 14 minutes faster than last year. I set myself up to learn a lesson about pain and suffering. It's the Reading Half Marathon next week, then a couple of weeks later the Brighton Marathon. That is going to be the dream race.

20 Miles 2:41:40 (pb)