What A Difference A Few Degrees Makes

Last Sunday, Humber Bridge half marathon. 13.1 miles in 1:46.
This Sunday, training run. 13.15 miles in 1:49½.

So in my training run, my Long Slow Run, I was barely any slower than in a race, despite that race only being a week earlier, and therefore still 'in my legs' as they say.

What was the difference then? Well the training run wasn't quite as hilly as the race, but it still had hills, plus several of those pesky little Achilles-testing bridges one finds on the GUC towpath in the city. And on the basis that that difference should have been outweighed by the stiffness still in my muscles, I can only assume that the main factor was the temperature.

So something like 7 degrees C is roughly equivalent to the difference between racing and jogging!

OK, so there may have been a few other factors involved, but I was still surprised to find so little difference between my times.

I started out running through the backstreets and onto the Grand Union Canal, which I followed all the way into the city, then on the Birmingham & Fazeley - the first half of a half marathon-equivalent route I've used several times over the years, though not recently. I passed several cyclists wearing hi-viz 'Sky Ride' bibs. I'd forgotten that this event was on that day, and hadn't checked their route for potential conflicts.

Farmers Bridge, near the National Indoor Arena, is my half way point on that route, but today rather than crossing the canal and heading back I continued past the NIA before crossing and joining the Worcester & Birmingham canal, past Sea World, Brindleyplace and the National Convention Centre. Turning right after Gas Street Basin I leave the canal via the Granville Street bridge, down the side of the Mailbox and via Hill Street onto National Cycle Route 5.

In the end I crossed the Sky Ride route three times - four if you count both sides of Sherlock Street, where the cyclists were travelling in both directions!

I last crossed their path on Cannon Hill Road, where they continued across Edgbaston Road into Cannon Hill Park while I turned left, heading along Salisbury Road and home via Moseley village.

Although I could certainly feel the tiredness still in my legs, I was surprisingly, and happily, free of any of the usual niggling aches and pains which I suffer in longer runs. Bring on Bristol and Chester!