Bath Half Marathon 2010 - great run, shame about the organisation

I had a great run today at the Bath Half Marathon. I finished in 2hrs and 17mins, which at first I was a bit disappointed with, but on reflection I've decided it's no bad thing. Unlike the organisation of the event, which I will come onto later.

Pic caption: Happy runner. At least I finished this time!

I had as usual piled the pressure onto myself to do well today, as I felt it would be a really important barometer for my London Marathon training. So when I was unable to keep to 10 minute miles within the first three miles, I started to feel like the whole thing was just a waste of time and that I hadn't trained enough and that there is no way I was going to be able to take on a full marathon in a little over six weeks.
But actually, it turns out I put on an extra minute every two miles, so in the end was seven minutes over where I wanted to be. My best ever half marathon time was Bristol 2006 in 2hrs 10mins, and the only other time I've run the Bath half was the same year, in 2hrs 30mins.
I guess 2hrs 17 is not the end of the world and if, somehow, I managed to keep that kind of pace going in London, I would still finish around five hours, or possibly under that. Although I doubt it.
Today felt very different though to any half marathon I've done before. I was very relaxed going into it, fully confident for the first time that I knew I could do the distance, so actually it was all about how I performed and how I managed my pace.
The whole thing was very matter of fact, I wasn't clinging on to dear life to keep going, I was measuring my performance against each mile and thinking about how I would be able to increase my speed over the next couple, or slow down to ensure I didn't burn out.
Also for probably the first time ever I started off passing people and kept passing people all the way to the end, it was weird.
Even after a customary toilet break after the first half mile, unlike Bristol last September the entire field hadn't disappeared by the time I had gone for a pee. (see earlier blog).
I kept up with one or two people for a lot of the time, although they didn't know it, but if you are the short-haired blonde girl who wore a pink running vest and grey trackies, I am grateful for your pace.
That really helped me get into a rhythm I was comfortable with and the usual inspiring beats on my iPod pushed me on. As well as the massive bowl of seafood pasta I had for dinner last night. (I put on 5lbs overnight after easting that)
I knew I had to give it some beans so I really did go for it a bit and found that I was able to up the pace when I felt like it. Maybe not for too long, but when it got to 12 miles I wanted to push on to the end and was able to put a decent spurt on to the finish.
It was really strange getting to 12 miles and really not feeling like I'd been through mill, as I usually do at that point, or more usually I'm walking with blistered feet by then.
I think I know I'm getting better as my attitude changed quite radically and I found myself becoming a running monster. Gone are the days of happily plodding along with all the other fatties at the back, chirping on about how just being there on the day is enough of an achievement. No, screw that, get the hell out of my way, I'm on a mission and you're an HGV in my motorway fastlane, grrr.
Suddenly the jovial chubby fun runner had been possessed by the kind of single minded, fat-hating, self-centred ejit that I'd always despised on runs like this. I had started in the slowest category so there were a lot of slow people around me, (even to suggest other people are slower than me is staggering), and I started running on the pavement to get past them and made a point of getting through the walkers, as if to say 'If you're too weak and unfit to get to five miles without giving up and walking, then you shouldn't be here!'.
And if I wasn't being ever so slightly fascist towards them, I was getting more and more enraged at the number of spectators who thought it was hilarious to run across the road in front of the runners, or ride their bikes alongside.
I realise I'm not an elite Kenyan athlete who cares about each millisecond, but I just thought it was bloody annoying for these idiots to run across just as we were all trying to keep our momentum, especially the fat, chavvy families who clearly had no respect for the effort being made by thousands of people today as they scurried over the road to get to the chip shop to feed their obese children even more lard.
I even saw one guy, a runner in fact, smoking a fag as he went up Newbridge Road, I couldn't believe it. He had a number on his shirt and was in scruffy old running gear, and had a full on B&H in his hand and was puffing away. Clearly not a lot of respect either for those running for cancer charities, heart disease charities and in memory of loved ones who died of cancer.
You see, an absolute monster I became out there, and I don't know why.
Normally I would applaud anybody who was making an kind of effort to cover 13 miles, whether they were walking or running like the wind. But today, I saw one of the power walkers and just thought 'what't the bloody point love, get out of my way'.
It was a whole new experience, not really one I'm proud of. But I did feel I put in a good effort and was really focussed on what I was doing.
When I got to 12 miles I just ticked it off in my mind as another mile down and carried on. That has never happened before, and I felt like I could have gone on. I'm not sure if today I could have gone on for another 13 miles, but I definitely felt that I had plenty left in the tank, as they say, and within minutes of finishing was breathing normally again and really felt fine.
So, great run, I even liked the course. Some people aren't keen on two laps, but I didn't mind it, at least I knew what was coming. Also there are nice gentle downhill bits which helped me pick up speed.
I just wish the organisation of the event was better.
I am so annoyed by the way things were organised on the day that I feel like I don't want to run it again.
People may feel I'm making a meal of this and I'd really be interested in what others think, but I thought the Runners' Village was a disgrace.
In a nutshell, all the entry and exit points into the Runners' Village were constantly jammed as they just bottlenecked with all the people trying to get in and out.
For a start the signing was terrible. I expect to queue for the loos, but it was desperately slow, and it wasn't until I'd been queueing for about 15 mins that it became clear that there were blokes' urinals to dash in and out of.
Okay, that may be just one of those things, but getting out of the village to get to the start point was not easy as again it wasn't clear where to go and it took quite a while just to get out of the gate. Once out of the village I made my way to the start, which wasn't that easy to find and on its own probably wouldn't be an issue but by this point I was just annoyed and all the little things were getting to me.
Anyway, so we all trot off and have a great run. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day on cusp of spring, still a bit of a chill in the air but I warmed up pretty quick.
Marshalling and drink stops were okay, except the Lucozade station had run out by the second lap. I thought that was pretty shabby as I was looking forward to a bit of a boost and it's not as if I was right at the back. If it was a one lap race, that station would have been about 9 miles, and you would definitely expect it to still be stocked.
There was water about half a mile or so later.
These things are minor annoyances, but when we got over the finish line I couldn't believe what was happening. After catching my breath and grabbing some fluids, I joined the line of people going back into the Runners' Village and found myself being herded like cattle with thousands of others trying to fit through one gate.
It was so frustrating, the whole crowd came to a stop and we were just waiting around getting cold and cramping up. There was nobody on hand to give out foil wraps and I dread to think what it would've been like if it had been colder and even raining.
At the end of the run all you want to do is get your medal, pick up the goodie bag and get out of there.
But instead we were crammed together for a good 20 minutes, waiting to get into the Runners' Village while feeling pretty knackered from running 13 miles and really not appreciating the wait.
The entry gates to the field next to The Rec Rugby Ground which they use for the Runners' Village, are clearly not big enough to accommodate the amount of people on the run, so bloody make the gates bigger, or don't have so many runners.
When I finally got through and picked my wonderful goodie bag, which contained a t-shirt, a granola bar, some deodorant??? and leaflets, woop di do, I then had to wait in line again to get out of the other side of the Runners' Village. And still I couldn't find a foil wrap to keep me warm. I asked one woman where she got hers and she said she took it out of the recycling bin! And there wasn't anybody I could see to ask for assistance.
So, that was all pretty crap really. I can put up with delays at the start and a bit of confusion about where to start and all that, but really the end of the event should be much easier to deal with.
I've never had that kind of problem at Bristol, and even the half marathon I did in a Kenyan game park was better organised than Bath.
I've probably been too harsh, I'm sure plenty of people had a much better experience, after all nobody died (that I'm aware of) and maybe there will be few complaints. But for me, at that point of the event, when thousands of people were just trying to get warm and go home, the organisation failed big time at the point when it should have been at its smoothest.
Sorry Bath Half organisers.
This must be one of the longest blogs I've written in a while, so I'll stop it here as I suspect few people will be reading this far in any case. Bum poo willy and boobs - just seeing if anybody does make it to the end!

Next stop London. Bring it on!