There are many things I want to get right when I'm pacing a 5K.
My pacing strategy. My timings. My motivational speeches *cough* ("Stop whining and just keep running"). Most importantly, making sure I don’t get distracted and sprint off at the start and leave half my runners wondering why they’ve paid good money to be abandoned by a woman in a fluorescent vest.
One thing I probably should get right is the location of the start line.
Unfortunately, I managed to balls that bit up before I’d even collected my race number.
My morning began with a gentle trot towards Caldecott Park, which I is where I confidently believed the Love Rugby 5K started.
On the way, I passed a couple of likely lads enjoying a few cans of cider at approximately half seven in the morning. Each to their own. Some people have porridge. Others have Strongbow. And some of the more insane ones are running.
I arrived at Caldecott Park and thought things seemed a little quiet. Then I spotted a sign telling me I was at the 2K point of the event.
Hang on a minute ...
A quick Google later and I discovered that the actual start was at Whitehall Park. A couple of kilometres away.
Excellent. Nothing says professional pacer like accidentally adding an extra couple of kilometres in because you haven’t read the race instructions properly.
So reading the instructions is not optional. Who knew?
So off I trotted towards Whitehall Park, turning my carefully planned warm-up into something a little more substantial.
Still, at least I was having a proper warm up.
Thankfully, I arrived with plenty of time to spare.
Everything was in full swing, so I headed off to register, collected my race number and timing chip and had a look around.
And I have to say, for a free event, the organisation was brilliant.
Closed roads. Chip timing. Free race photos. A proper event atmosphere. All the things you’d expect from a race AND without an entry fee. Nice.
I caught up with friends from Northbrook AC, Rugby Tri, Twitter and Daventry Runners, including Becky and Dan. A proper sociable start to the morning and one of the things I love about local events: seeing all your running mates!
Even made a friend in the toilet queue! Had a chat with a lady in the queue who had started running in April and was now training for her first 10K.
The toilet queues were moving at a reasonable rate but the portaloo hand sanitiser situation was a bit lacking. Toilet paper was available though, so we weren’t entirely abandoned to the wilderness.
You take the wins where you can.
My pacing equipment for the day consisted of a bright yellow vest emblazoned with a massive number 25.
Subtle, it was not.
There was, however, one enormous improvement on some of the pacing kit I’ve encountered in the past.
No quill flag.
If you’ve ever seen a pacer carrying one of those enormous flags, you’ll understand the potential difficulties. Doorways become an obstacle course. Trees suddenly seem to be positioned specifically to attack you. Portaloos become a logistical nightmare.
And I have the attention span of a gerbil, so anyone in my vicinity is in constant danger of being accidentally impaled when I forget I have a flag and bend down to tie up a shoe or something.
The humble vest is a much more sensible arrangement.
I spent some time at the Rugby Tri tent chatting to a few potential triathletes, alongside the other pacers waiting for the start. I’m always happy to encourage people to give triathlon a go. It’s a perfectly reasonable sport, provided you don’t mind spending all your money on kit and voluntarily entering open water with several hundred strangers who are intent on kicking you in the face.
Then it was my turn.
I was heading up the 25-minute section.
The start horn sounded and we were away.
My job was simple enough in theory: run at the right pace, keep an eye on the time and help people get across the finish line in around 25 minutes.
In practice, pacing involves quite a lot of talking.
Fortunately, talking while running is something I’ve had plenty of practice at. Sometimes with other people. Sometimes to myself. Sometimes to the sheep. Or cows. (Or though usually this is more along the lines of "OHMYGODSTOPCHASINGMEYOUBUNCHOFBASTEWARDS")
I found myself running alongside a chatty chap who was returning to running, as well as a pair of runners tackling their first ever 5K race.
It was a really nice mix. People returning after time away, people chasing a target and people discovering the excitement of racing for the first time.
Everyone has their own reasons for being there, and as a pacer, you’re trying to help all of them get the best out of their morning.
It was already pretty warm, so I spent much of the run chatting away, offering encouragement and calling out the kilometres and miles as we went.
There’s something reassuring about knowing how far you’ve come and how far you’ve got left to go. Especially when your legs are beginning to question the wisdom of your life choices. Such as entering running events in the morning when you could otherwise be drinking a nice cup of tea and having a sit down.
With a mile to go, I reminded everyone that we had approximately eight minutes of running left.
“You’ve had longer dentist appointments!”
I thought that was a fairly solid motivational speech.
Although, given how many people are absolutely terrified of the dentist, perhaps it wasn’t quite the reassurance I’d imagined.
Still, we carried on.
The atmosphere throughout the race was fantastic.
The route was lovely, too. A bit twisty and turny in places but with a really nice mix of scenery as we made our way through the park, along the main street and past the theatre.
It was a proper community event, and the local support was brilliant. There were loads of people out cheering the runners on, which always makes a difference.
You can be having the worst run of your life, questioning every training session you’ve ever completed (and all of the ones you haven't!) and wondering whether taking up competitive knitting might be a better use of your time. Then someone on the sidelines shouts your name or gives you a cheer and suddenly you find another gear.
Well ... at least you don't like to stop running in front of someone who now knows your name,
But that’s the beauty of it. The runners, the volunteers, the spectators and the people who turn out to support their local event all contribute to the atmosphere.
Love Rugby certainly lived up to its name.
One of my favourite moments came just after my 'motivational speech' and was with a young lad who was working hard to achieve his sub-25-minute 5K. He was clearly pushing himself, and as we approached the finish, he had a couple of walking steps.
And that’s totally cool. Sometimes you need a moment to regroup, catch your breath and remind your legs that they’ve got one last job to do.
And then he surged past me. YASSS!
Off he went, digging deep and finding that extra bit of energy to push towards his target.
Watching someone fight for a goal like that is one of the best things about pacing. You can offer encouragement, keep them on track and remind them that they’re capable of more than they think, but ultimately they’re the ones doing the work.
I really hope he got his sub-25. He certainly looked determined to grab it.
Moments like that are a lovely reminder that a 5K isn’t just a 5K. For one person, it might be a gentle Sunday morning run. For another, it’s a return to fitness. For someone else, it’s their first race. And for someone chasing a time, those final few minutes can mean absolutely everything.
Being part of that, even in a small way, is a privilege.
I crossed the finish line, and I got to enjoy one of the other important aspects of race day.
The medal.
Rather than the usual bit of metal on a ribbon, the Love Rugby 5K medal was made from slate. But here’s the clever bit: you can remove the ribbon and use the medal as a coaster.
A COASTER.
Genuinely one of the coolest race medals I’ve seen.
I love a decent medal, and I particularly love it when someone has put a bit of thought into making something different.
Most of my race medals end up hanging somewhere or being shoved into a box, occasionally brought out to remind myself that I have, on occasion, done something vaguely athletic.
This one can sit on the coffee table and protect it from a mug of tea.
Practical and pretty. What’s not to love? Plus TEA.
The Love Rugby 5K was a brilliant event, and I was genuinely amazed that it was free.
The organisation was excellent, the course was enjoyable, the local support was fantastic and the atmosphere was exactly what you want from a community running event.
I got to catch up with friends, meet new people, encourage a few runners along the way and watch people working towards their own personal goals.
And I got a coaster.
What more could a girl want?
Perhaps a better understanding of which park I'm supposed to be running to but I can’t have everything.
A huge thank you to everyone involved in organising the event, all the volunteers, the spectators and the other pacers who helped make it such a great morning.
I’ll definitely be back.
Next time, I’ll even try to get to the right park first.
No promises, though.
