One of my former training buddies (Colin Godfrey) recently sent this email to our former training group reminiscing over a training session!!
Well I guess many of our training sessions were like races!
Dear All,
The message for Sedar (Passover, this is for Dave) night as we know is;
Why is this night different from all other nights?
I feel it is only right at this time of year to reflect on my most
memorable Sedar running experience.
I was a young brash 19 year old, enjoying my first year at Wolverhampton
Polytechnic. It was Spring 1990, and I had returned home for the
holidays very excited about the forth coming track season. In my mind
this was going to be my time.
By this stage of my career, I was beating James on the Hill and 3 mins
interval sessions, and so in my mind I was now (Coach) Alf's main athlete.
It was the first Sedar night, and I received a call from James saying
that he was finishing work early and that Alf had told him I was doing a
track session and could he join in.
The session was 12 * 300's (90 sec) with 100 jog. The setting was
Parliament Hill. James decided that because of the wind we would start
at the 400 mark and run two bends. It was agreed we would take turns
leading them out.
My best session until then averaged in the low 43's. This session we
were in the low 42's. Whenever James led one out I would sit on his
shoulder on the back straight just to let him know I'm there and that I
have more to give, but I resisted the temptation to overtake. It was
only a matter of time he would break! Or so I thought.
What struck me was James's recovery, whilst I gasped for air slowly
jogging the 100. James was talking about splits and memorising the
times. I just could not get through my head, how come I had not broken
him.
The session continued all were under 42.5 and we were about to start the
last one. James took it out. I sat on his shoulder round the first
bend and then hit the front down the back straight. This was it, the
defining moment when boy became Master! Going in to the final 100 round
the 200 bend all was good, and then it happened...approaching the
steeple chase barrier, the tightening up in the arms, legs and lungs
started to hit home and then, the heavy breathing, googly eyes,
tippy-tappy Zola Buddesque feet of James started to pull along side, and
as he past, his sweat flicked off his face and chest in to me.
I crossed the line crushed, shattered and broken, to hear the words,
"Well done, Master!"
It was such a humbling experience, and that Sedar night I sat around the
table absolutely gutted.
There no doubt would have been other times, but unfortunately, fate was
to play me a bad hand a month later resulting in a career ending injury,
but without doubt if there is one session which I can think back on
which I can remember everything about as if it were yesterday, then this
was the one.
Ps. Jeff and James talked about one run where Sony Walkman Man, over
took them and no matter how hard they chased him they could not catch
him.
Well, just to let you know, I encountered his son Ipod Boy the other
evening. He was wearing baggy track suite bottoms and ran past me in
Sunningfields Park, along the long back straight.
I was doing a slow 5, and at first thought, let him go, but, suddenly I
saw the Ipod, and that was it, No Way! I felt the frustration of Jeff
and James all those years ago, and before I knew it I felt a
responsibility to right that wrong from all those years ago.
I responded and you will be pleased to know I triumphed by overtaking
him up the hill. I continued the pace until I left the park, it all but
killed me, but at least a restored confidence that Sunningfields Park is
still The Master's Paradise, all be it, only just!
Take care everyone and hopefully we will be able to meet up soon or as
the Haggadah's say, this time, next year in Jerusalem!
Colin
The message for Sedar (Passover, this is for Dave) night as we know is;
Why is this night different from all other nights?
I feel it is only right at this time of year to reflect on my most
memorable Sedar running experience.
I was a young brash 19 year old, enjoying my first year at Wolverhampton
Polytechnic. It was Spring 1990, and I had returned home for the
holidays very excited about the forth coming track season. In my mind
this was going to be my time.
By this stage of my career, I was beating James on the Hill and 3 mins
interval sessions, and so in my mind I was now (Coach) Alf's main athlete.
It was the first Sedar night, and I received a call from James saying
that he was finishing work early and that Alf had told him I was doing a
track session and could he join in.
The session was 12 * 300's (90 sec) with 100 jog. The setting was
Parliament Hill. James decided that because of the wind we would start
at the 400 mark and run two bends. It was agreed we would take turns
leading them out.
My best session until then averaged in the low 43's. This session we
were in the low 42's. Whenever James led one out I would sit on his
shoulder on the back straight just to let him know I'm there and that I
have more to give, but I resisted the temptation to overtake. It was
only a matter of time he would break! Or so I thought.
What struck me was James's recovery, whilst I gasped for air slowly
jogging the 100. James was talking about splits and memorising the
times. I just could not get through my head, how come I had not broken
him.
The session continued all were under 42.5 and we were about to start the
last one. James took it out. I sat on his shoulder round the first
bend and then hit the front down the back straight. This was it, the
defining moment when boy became Master! Going in to the final 100 round
the 200 bend all was good, and then it happened...approaching the
steeple chase barrier, the tightening up in the arms, legs and lungs
started to hit home and then, the heavy breathing, googly eyes,
tippy-tappy Zola Buddesque feet of James started to pull along side, and
as he past, his sweat flicked off his face and chest in to me.
I crossed the line crushed, shattered and broken, to hear the words,
"Well done, Master!"
It was such a humbling experience, and that Sedar night I sat around the
table absolutely gutted.
There no doubt would have been other times, but unfortunately, fate was
to play me a bad hand a month later resulting in a career ending injury,
but without doubt if there is one session which I can think back on
which I can remember everything about as if it were yesterday, then this
was the one.
Ps. Jeff and James talked about one run where Sony Walkman Man, over
took them and no matter how hard they chased him they could not catch
him.
Well, just to let you know, I encountered his son Ipod Boy the other
evening. He was wearing baggy track suite bottoms and ran past me in
Sunningfields Park, along the long back straight.
I was doing a slow 5, and at first thought, let him go, but, suddenly I
saw the Ipod, and that was it, No Way! I felt the frustration of Jeff
and James all those years ago, and before I knew it I felt a
responsibility to right that wrong from all those years ago.
I responded and you will be pleased to know I triumphed by overtaking
him up the hill. I continued the pace until I left the park, it all but
killed me, but at least a restored confidence that Sunningfields Park is
still The Master's Paradise, all be it, only just!
Take care everyone and hopefully we will be able to meet up soon or as
the Haggadah's say, this time, next year in Jerusalem!
Colin
Googly Eyes (AKA Zola Budd)
No comments:
Post a Comment