My first running race was our school’s house cross
country. I was 7 years old, in grade three and was faced with the epic task of
running 1.5km. I did win, but in fairness to the other competitors, I had
technically been training for three years without even knowing it. Throughout
my first three years of junior school, before cross country races were even
known to exist, I found myself strangely obsessed with the game “Cops and Robbers”.
I remember so clearly just loving running around, and add to that the
competitive aspect of chasing people and I had absolutely found my calling. I just
loved it.
After a bit of pestering, at the age of 10, my parents
relented and signed me up to the local Little Athletics Club,
Camberwell/Malvern. There, I found what can sometimes be a rare thing in sport:
a training circle, a friendship circle, that could compete against each other AND
could be the most amazing supports to one another. After we outgrew Little Athletics,
we all went on to the same senior athletics club, “SSH”, in Hawthorn. Our close
friendship still remains 17 years later.
It was quite poetic therefore that I should line up in my
first track race for this season, wearing the same club singlet I wore in my
very first race for SSH when I was 12. No, it was not a sentimental thing. I
actually haven’t got around to purchasing a new singlet in 15 years of racing.
It must have been quite the large singlet back in the day… hopefully. To have
my running coach there who coached me from the age of 11 until last year was
also something quite special. After all, it was him that had had to deal with
the torturous years of teenage-hood and training a group that would not stop
chatting through sessions. He had been there since the start and despite my
stepping up to high level triathlon and therefore evolving to a purely
triathlon based program, he remains very much a part of this journey.
Long story short, whilst I had broken 18minutes for 5km a couple
of times over the winter “off the bike”, I was yet to record an official track
time for the season. Before this past year, mid 18 minutes to low 19 minutes had
been the norm on and off for the best part of a decade as I focused on the
shorter 1500m/3km. Whilst I was now a dedicated triathlete with ultimate goals
and needs of running high 16 minutes to low 17 minutes for 5km, this race wasn’t about
that. It was about where I’d come from and it was about fulfilling a once
highly unrealistic dream of running 17-something. When I saw 17.44.3 on the
official results, it was surreal. The triathlete I am now, of course wants
more…but for the runner I was, the highs and lows I’ve been through, for her, running
this time was something I’d only ever dreamed about. Of course, it was then
back to business and subsequent races through the season were more about
getting lower in the mid 17 minutes range…. but that first race, that first
official track time of 17.44.3, will always remain a treasured accomplishment.
It highlights one old and trusted, but rarely adopted truth: if you find the
love for something and you stick with it long enough, you WILL succeed.
My second 5km attempt came on a blustery summer afternoon
at Athletics Victoria’s Shield competition. Unfortunately, due to large numbers
they decided to split the race into 2 heats: sub 18mins and above 18mins. For
the first time in my history, I took the more intimidating option and
self-nominated for the faster heat. 3km whizzed by in 10.25, only 5 seconds
off my 3km personal best. From there, I was in a world of hurt. I actually felt
nauseous from the early pace, and I just wanted it to be over so badly. The
last 2km was a battle. My cadence dropped, and I felt like I was running on the
spot. I was unable to hide from the wind on any of the laps with the race now
strung out and my concentration started to lapse. I achieved a personal best of
17.40 and therefore, another club record for that distance, but I knew I was
capable of more. Falling asleep in the last 2km cost me dearly….or was it the
pace of the first 3? I had one more chance to find out and to make it right.
My final 5km of the season was a complete misfire but (thankfully)
I had a second chance two days later. What is usually a race known for fast
times, the Milers’ Club 5km presented a perfect final hit out for the season.
What had earlier in the day felt like hurricane winds were, by race time, maybe
closer to a typical Melbourne Autumn day but still no one wanted to take the
lead. I found myself at the front but didn’t want to be there either. I stalled, waiting for someone to come around
me but no one did. I was almost at a standstill before another runner finally took
over. What I hoped would be a “fast” race had now become a tactical one and it
showed at 3km as we went through in a relatively pedestrian 10.30. Having been
lulled into a repetitive 3.30/km plod for each of the first 3kms, I had no
change of pace to go to and stepped off the track at 3.2km, resolved to try
again on Saturday. Try, I did. I went out with the boys in a blistering pace
(for me): 2.35 for the first 800m and 16.20 5km pace for the first km. The
second and third km were absolutely deplorable as I overcorrected following the
first km. As I entered km four, I started to lap the girls and this helped. It
gave me a target each straight and took me out of the pain I was in, focusing my
mind on something external. I finished with a 17.44 so not the final time we
were after but I was satisfied that I’d gone out and taken a risk. One day, the
risk will pay off. At the very least, I’d managed 3 from 3 sub17.45 5km for the
season - a time barely imaginable 12 months earlier.
From the age of 14 to 18, I did not run a single personal
best time on the track. That’s a long time to go PB-less…..But I didn’t stop, I
didn’t quit. It actually didn’t even cross my mind. I loved it too much. I
loved my training group. I loved our ritual of buying lemonade icy-poles at
Richmond train station following our afterschool training sessions at Olympic
Park. I loved our little competition to NOT be the fastest runner on the sixth run-through
of our warm up. I also loved the feeling of racing even when it wasn’t coupled
with the feeling of winning. Peter fostered a training environment that whilst targeting
high performance racing, was equally focused on longevity in the sport. For
juniors, I believe this is vital. Each member of our squad competed at National
level but of paramount importance at training was that we trained hard but
sensibly… and we had FUN. Testament to this is where I am now, still loving
running as much as I did at the very beginning.
My junior days are now well and truly behind me. I am now
a triathlete (well trying to be), not a runner. I am in a new, but equally
supportive and brilliant triathlon (not running) training program. But none of
these facts stop me from remembering where I started. Nor do they make it any
less exciting when I run a personal best time, break an athletics club record
or achieve a National athletics ranking. I found the love for running and I
stuck with it. It’s as simple as that.
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