Cropwell Bishop is known for its production of stilton cheese.
It is perhaps less famous for road running races, which is a shame, because the Stilton Stumble 10km road race was truly an incredible event.
Context: Having ran a 5km personal best 24 hours before in a time of 18:11 / 5:49 per mile pace, on my lonesome at a seemingly abandoned parkrun on the Long Eaton West Park course, I was unsure whether I would be fully fresh for the 10km.
I have also never run the 10km distance in a race, so I did not have an answer for what a consistent effort level would feel like, and I had little knowledge of the route.
Risks included going out too fast, running at an unsustainable pace, misjudging elevation, wasting energy uphill and missing opportunities to capitalise on downhills.
With all mysteries considered, I set myself this goal on race day:
Objective: Run a sub-40 minute 10km (6:26 mile pace) as a minimum. All my data suggested that should be possible, even on tired legs.
Considering how to execute, I was mindful, and settled on the following strategic themes:
Strategy: Run to feel, be aware of pace but not a slave to it (as elevation unknown), don’t go out too fast, feel out the effort level relevant to pace and pick people off as you go round if you can - it is a race after all!
As we shuffled around the village hall, some plucky volunteers unfurled a start banner and stretched it across the open road, a bit like a flash protest, as others walked further up the road to turn traffic away.
I discovered in the pre-race briefing that this wasn’t going to be a closed road event, so it was clear the occasional car/van could pass, but given the sleepy scenic location, it was unlikely to be a big deal.
Tactics/How it went:
Mile 1: 6:14 pace
I didn’t count the competitors in front of me on the start line, but it was clear from the first 400 meters that there couldn’t be more than 20 people leading the charge.
The adrenaline from both being in a race, and knowing a top-20 finish was possible required a lot of discipline to ground myself and focus on the strategy.
The initial downhill section led to a right-turn and from there, the first mile was basically uphill, perfect for keeping me slow.
I had a few glances at my watch and at the start of the small ascent focused on feel and effort. I was glad as my watch beeped that I had gone out around 25 seconds slower than my 5km pace and quicker than my target pace, a nice middle-ground which felt very comfortable.
Mile 2: 5:58 pace
This was possibly the best a second mile could ever be.
The slight downhill, wind broken by a wall of high hedgerows and trees lining either side of a flat open road, until a drop at the end and neat left turn leading us under cover to a canopy of trees, where beams of fierce morning sunshine managed to blast through.
This gentle slope was great for locking into a feeling of controlled running, where I could focus on form, on the breath, on my arm swing, my feet and stride - all the things you need to be mindful of to run efficiently and to run well.
Mile 3: 6:07 pace
The tree canopy opened up to a farmers field, before the road snatched us right and sent us up a short sharp hill.
“Here we go” I thought. Time to find the space between rest and stress.
What felt like the most undulating section of the race, which may seem strange given the overall negative elevation, it was here we ran through Colston Basset.
The village (hamlet?) felt incredibly familiar, at points I thought it was a section from the Turkey Trot half marathon I had completed in minus-temperatures in November last year, but it turns out that this was a case of mistaken identity - the Turkey Trot is in Rushcliffe, but the route for that race is miles away!
It’s funny to look back at the reassurance this fictitious sense of familiarity provided. The idea I had run these roads before, even though I evidently hadn’t, let me believe I had nothing to worry about.
Mile 4: 6:14 pace
The watch beeped at the approach to a small stone bridge over water, where upon hitting the top of the bridge arch, I noticed a cameraman nestled on the side of the road like a poorly disguised sniper, in a Regatta or Berghaus windbreaker.
I hate 99.9% of the photos of me running. Going “Full Send” doesn’t often equate to wearing a pleasant expression.
I often think I look like a dog sticking it’s head out of a car window at high speed, but on this occasion I seem to have pulled myself together in this shot to project the image of someone happily enjoying running.
At this Mid-race point I also organically came up with a mantra :
“Run calm. Run strong.”
It really helped to keep me relaxed and focused; I think I’ll take that mantra with me in future racing.
I had slowed slightly on this mile (too busy trying not to look dishevelled!) but still ran it well within the target pace.
Mile 5: 6:18 pace
“10km is only two parkruns, so make sure you’ve got another parkrun in you after 3 miles” I said to myself in the early stages.
Mile 5 was parkrun 2 - mile 2. The longest mile in terms of time to complete, and with the initial adrenaline from mile 1 gone, probably the hardest period in the race psychologically, and in terms of profile.
A steady 40ft climb, which dropped off at the end of the mile, was another reminder that I didn’t know what to expect in terms of the course profile, but as it was the penultimate mile, I knew if I got through it I would just have to empty the tank in mile 6.
When the time beeped on my watch I thought:
“okay just over a mile to go - time to pick it up!”
Mile 6: 6:02 pace
The last mile, by this point I had overtaken 4 or 5 racers and was now locked onto the target in front, but the distance between us felt like the bellows of an accordion, it would expand and contract, but I could never make up enough ground to truly latch on, to draft or to sync our strides, tactics I tend to use to conserve energy or gain confidence. For those who don’t know what I mean, basically, if we’re running together ‘to the beat’ of our shoes, I can focus on that rhythm, and if the runner ahead is showing signs of fatigue, it makes me think “He sounds like he’s on 9.5/10, but I feel about 8/10 - so I will get a chance to push on at some point!”
These little things make all the difference.
In hindsight, I guess I ran miles 4 and 5 a little too slow, but that is only evident now after the fact, and given my goal, I was still on for a successful race.
Final 0.25 mile: 5:26 pace
The home straight. As we passed the ‘Welcome to Cropwell Bishop’ village sign, I put the hammer down and finished strong, coming over the line in sub-5 minute mile pace, and sub 5:30 pace for that quarter lap in total.
I was handed probably the best race medal I’ve ever received, designed in the style of a little cheese wheel, and with that, a prize of a wedge of stilton to take home!
Result: 8th position, race time: 38:16 (chip time) 38:20 (gun time)
Summary: Incredible course, I lucked out with the weather, great distance, very pleased with my race attitude and execution, lots of lessons to take away, and not to mention the excellent cheese based spoils of war!
Big shoutout to Nacho, Jordan, Bekah and Jemma from ERC who all did fantastic on the day as well, some of them then went on to run home after (!!!), whereas I had to quickly nip back to Nottingham in the car for a dinner reservation.
Big runs, big dinners - the stuff of dreams!