The Brass Monkey is one of my favourite races, a chance to see ‘where you’re at’ at the beginning of a new year, a new decade in this case.
I’d purposely dedicated a four-week block of training to this race, and throughout December I’d managed four consecutive 100 mile weeks, an arbitrary target for the obsessive club runner in me. I’m not blessed with natural top-end speed but I am very lucky in that I’m pretty resilient when it comes to knocking out fairly high mileage without breaking. A preventative flu jab and plenty of vitamin C had got me through December without so much as a sniffle.
A two-week taper, of sorts, including a few much-needed lie-ins over Christmas and I arrived at the start line in good shape. I knew from a few key work outs and a good race at the North Easterns’ that a PB was possible.
I’d decided to race, rather that run to a target pace and latched onto the second group, and I was probably only twenty seconds or less behind the leaders at 5k. The pace was quick; but felt comfortably hard. I was on the edge, but that was exactly where I needed to be to run my best.
By 10k I was in a group of 5/6 runners, taking turns to lead the pace. I was deliberately not using too much mental energy off the front, quite happy to ‘tuck in’. We passed through half way in 34:32 – I made a conscious effort to look at my watch at this marker.
There was lots of surface water but it was a mild January morning, with very little wind – perfect running conditions really once the rain had subsided early on in the race.
Around mile 9 there was a change in the group dynamic, two runners had caught us and began to increase the pace, three or four dropped off the back. Liam Aldridge of Bill Marsh House had finished ahead of me recently at Alnwick and I knew he was running well, I tried to hang on. Kilometre 15 was a 03:12 split, 16 minute 5k pace; I was starting to feel more ‘on the edge’ than before.
Rather than back off I adopted a ‘now or never’ approach, I decided I’d rather blow up than back off too much; not wanting to settle for second best. My experience told me the body sometimes has a little more to give. Suddenly, those early relaxed miles felt a long time ago. It occurred to me I’d had a gob of spit on my chin for a few minutes because I was too tired to wipe it off, I didn’t want anything to break my rhythm.
I was still moving fairly well and despite the best efforts of the two guys in front of me they were no further ahead by mile 12, in fact I’d closed the gap a little. I knew a PB was in sight, I just wasn’t sure how big.
Mile 12.
I instantly though of coach Allan at mile 12. Every year he made the trip to this race to support Elvet Striders. He would appear after about a mile on the way out, disappear for cake and coffee (of course) before standing at the top of the bank, just as York racecourse is in sight. I realised just how much he will be missed on days like this.
“You’re running really well Stephen, just relax”. I suddenly had his voice in my head.
Often, he would shout my position, never as high as it was to be this year.
This year this race was for my friend Allan.
Results : – https://www.runbritainrankings.com/results/results.aspx?meetingid=335811&event=HM&venue=York&date=12-Jan-20
We turned onto the avenue to the racecourse and I saw a sight unfamiliar to me. Lots of places to park, even for a coach. This must be what it’s like when you’re organised and turn up to races with time in hand. I made a note to try this out as it sure looked more relaxing than driving round and round looking for somewhere to park with just minutes to spare before kick-off. As chief-of-the-clipboard I’d been a bit anxious about parking and I relaxed a little as we pulled into the side of the road just a couple of hundred metres from the racecourse. Billy the Bus wasn’t so sure. He’d spied the marshalls ahead waving coaches into the racecourse car-park and he was quite keen to get a piece of the VIP treatment. “This is a long way to walk for my cup of tea!”, he exclaimed, so we scrambled back on the coach and headed for the racecourse. Sure enough, parking cones were swept aside and we were waved straight through to the racecourse and were soon parked pretty much right outside the front door. Like royalty. Lovely.
The chaos from last year was absent this year as we’d all had our race numbers posted to us. So I found myself a cup of coffee and made an impulse buy of a packet of shotblocks (Blackcurrant) and settled down to wait. I decided to have a couple of shotblocks now and eat the rest during the race. They really were very nice. Presently I threw the empty wrapper in the bin and headed for the start.
I should, as Mr Diamond once observed, have known better. Just half a mile from the finish I heard that unmistakable patter of tiny feet. I glanced around in horror only to see Kathryn attack with a ferocious intent. I immediately lifted my pace and gave chase but this was no half-hearted effort and she soon opened up a comfortable gap of about 20 metres. My immediate thoughts would not be permitted on a family website but I was secretly impressed. Smart move, well played. I would have done the same thing myself, and did indeed do something very similar at 
But Kathryn had mis-timed her attack. We turned left away from the main road and as we approached the final corner I realised the gap was closing. We were both exhausted from our battle so this was not going to be an elegant energised sprint built upon a saved reserve. I attacked on the final corner and ran for the line as surely as if the Captain had fired a couple of photon torpedoes up my jacksie. I braced myself for the counter-attack, but it never came. It was a close thing and I’m sure if Kathryn had attacked just a couple of minutes later than she did she’d have certainly crossed the finish line in front of me. Still, we were both happy! Having me to hunt down had given Kathryn a PB, and having Kathryn hunt me down had elbowed my time to a sub 1:45. Even if did mean I was dangerously close to the dry boak as I collapsed on the bench while someone relieved me of my timing chip, and the spike in in my heart-rate as reported by my garmin is 
something I prefer not to examine too closely. Things did, as they say, go a bit fuzzy. I don’t think I was alone as