Clarendon half, 2023

 I've run variations of this race so manty times over the last 20 years that I've lost count. I ran the half marathon from Broughton to Salisbury three or four times in the 2000s and then from Salisbury to Winchester in 2007, when the direction was reversed for fun on the tenth race and has stayed the same since. I've subsequently run the full marathon route nine times. So I was well overdue to give the half another crack.

Furthermore, I hadn't run a half - possibly my favourite distance - for three and a half years, thanks to a combination of pandemic and injury. After a summer of steady running and a good smattering of races under my belt, I was very much anticipating this jewel of local races.

Shortly before leaving home I followed an endurance tip I had cut out of a newspaper and drank a solution of sodium bicarbonate. It was predictably foul. After washing it down with a hefty glug of coffee, Mrs S and I collected Steve M-H and set off too Broughton where we said hello to lots of familiar faces and I limbered up.

Hello Broughton

It was a warm, humid, overcast sort of a day. I chatted to Neil Jennings at the start line. Neil was the clear favourite after achieving a storming first place last year, but he was being as modest as ever about his readiness for this race. There was a countdown and we set off.

With Neil, last year's runaway winner

After a minute or so I found myself at the front of the pack. This always makes me nervous at the start of a race! But a feature of Clarendon is that you're never alone; with multiple races (full, half and relay) and the option to start ahead of the massed starts, there are always runners ahead. I like this - it gives you targets to aim for and it's companionable, but on a trail route it does sometimes involve some negotiated overtaking.

It was a bonus to have the lovely Mrs S waving to me in Houghton and again in King's Somborne. I was feeling strong and enjoying the course. Bastard Hill felt quite straightforward (much more so than it does on a full marathon), and I found myself in buoyant mood on the climb to Farley Mount, simply enjoying the feeling of steady ascent. I passed JJ (the race director) who said hello and promptly sprinted in front of me to take a photo.

In Houghton

Into West Wood and now well into the second half, I was starting to feel some weariness. I felt glad that I had decided to bring a backpack with a water bladder. The Tailwind was helping. At the top of a grassy ascent I encountered Derek Jennings carrying a selfie stick. Derek ran just ahead of me and conducted a mini-interview. I wasn't expecting this and I didn't make the best interviewee, mumbling half-responses to his questions and spitting for good measure.

Into the closing miles, I became increasingly protective of my position in the field. It's one thing being overtaken halfway into a race, but quite another when you're pushing to the finish. I was keeping mentally prepared for the final rooty, rocky steep hill with just over a mile to go; from here on I tried to lift my pace, motivated by the fear of Neil's distinctive footsteps behind me.

Derek was at the top of the final hill with his camera. No time to talk; I pushed forward along Sarum Road, which I swear was longer that it used to be, into the grounds of King's School and a raucously noisy playing field where I heaved over the line.

I'm in a state of shock

I had somehow finished in first place in 1:34:30. What just happened there? It turned out that Neil had had a difficult run and finished much slower than usual. I was thrilled! Here are my stats. 

At the finish

The implication is that the bicarb may have helped. I now feel obliged to drink this dreadful concoction whenever I do a longer race.

It's awful, but it might just work

Oh, and here's Derek's video compilation of the day. I feature from about 11:20. Sorry about the spitting.