Dorney Lake Half Marathon

Racing. It’s been a ruddy long time coming. Aside from virtual events, I only raced twice last year and neither was the type of race I was used to. The road races over familiar distances that form the staple of so many runner’s routines were all cancelled.

My last half on the road was the Great North Run in 2019 where, after an injury lay off, I was pretty disappointed with my time. At the very end of 2019 I decided to prove myself and ran what I thought would probably be a lifetime best – ragging myself on a windy day up the North Tyneside Coast. I’d just squeaked in under what was for me a landmark target and accepted that it was all I had for the distance, and maybe all I ever would.

With lockdown easing the last few weeks has seen the diary for the year start to fill up, and in the liminal space that we live in some staggered start events have appeared to fill the gap. When I heard about Dorney Lake Half Marathon I couldn’t resist the urge to get back on it.

Dorney was the rowing venue for the 2012 Olympics and is the home of Eton College rowing club. It’s a 2.2km long man-made lake, perfectly straight, surrounded by trees and paths. The course is a 5km lap that’s almost completely flat, barring small rises over bridges, with a dog leg on the first lap to make up the extra for half marathoners.

The course is a 5km lap that’s almost completely flat, barring small rises over bridges, with a dog leg on the first lap to make up the extra for half marathoners.

The weather was perfect as I walked to the start line and considered race strategy. I’d planned a pace that would give the option at half way of either pushing harder or relaxing a little and still hopefully coming in under my PB. But, with only a few paces to go before the start, I decided I wanted a big PB. The plan went out the window.

No sooner had I been counted down than excitement overtook me and I set off way too fast. A mixture of adrenaline and the fact I’ve only really ran fast over short distances lately, meant that even self consciously slowing myself the first kilometre was fifteen seconds quicker than intended. I managed to control my pace more in the next couple and by the time I settled onto the main straight I was gliding along nicely.

There’s a mindset thing to races like this. Anytime you have to run laps, you’ve got a built in measurement tool for consistency. While I most often like to run in nature for a sense of place, running a race like this lends itself to sustaining pace. The stewards at regular intervals did a great job of cheering people on, and a couple in particular seemed to grow in enthusiasm every time you passed.

While I most often like to run in nature for a sense of place, running a race like this lends itself to sustaining pace.

It was my first race outing in the new Nike Vaporfly Next% 2. I’m really impressed with how comfortable they were for the duration. The cushioning is incredible and there’s a real sense of being able to push hard consistently. I’ve yet to thrash a 5k in them due to training fatigue, but they excelled here – I’ve never ran in anything that combines cushion and speed that well.

As I started the third lap, with my pace still consistent, I decided that I’d do something I don’t normally do in half marathons and take on some fuel. I knew I didn’t need it but, like Thierry Henry, I was hoping for a little more va-va-voom. I grabbed a bottle from the water station at 14k and opened a gel. What I didn’t count on was that I’ve not fuelled before while running that fast, and it slowed me down while I did. It wasn’t a big time hit but it cost me about ten seconds and I’m not sure I gained anything from it.

I’d planned to kick round the last lap quicker but my legs weren’t cooperative and I struggled to find the extra gear I’d hoped for. With 3k left I calculated an achievable pace increase but still couldn’t quite pull it off. Coming onto the back straight toward the finish I started to speed up but couldn’t get to full sprint.

I crossed the Olympic Bridge and hit 21.1k on my watch but the finish line was still tantalisingly a couple of hundred metres away. I’ve been racing long enough to know that you race to the line, not your watch, but after squeezing my pace and focussing so hard on the outcome, I was gutted to see that my race would be a minute longer. I pushed for the line and crossed in time for a chunky personal best.

It was so good to get back racing, and what might have normally been a bread and butter race became a chance to put a marker down. As the season goes on, I’m likely to do more and more hill days which isn’t always great for getting faster on the flat so it’s nice to have been able to cement some progress. Coming off the course I was frustrated at not being able to really crank the pace in the last lap, but in hindsight I’m pleased with the consistent pace and effort – and any day where you beat your time by that amount has to count as a win.