It's not often you get to run the same race twice in one year, but last year's MK Winter Half was done in February this year due to snow on the originally scheduled date. Since I'd got a month between this and my previous race I figured I could get in some dedicated half marathon training for my last race of 2018.

Usually half marathon training is just part of marathon training - but this time I'd got enough time to focus a little more. Could it work? Maybe - though it's not the sort of training plan I've had to come up with before so I wasn't totally sure what work. I figured it was best to plan it the same way I would a marathon. Ideally I would have done a couple of weeks of double tempo sessions, but I didn't quite have time to build up to that and then build distance so I decided I'd do a couple of weeks doing a mid-week 5.5 mile tempo, and a couple of weeks doing an 8.5 mile tempo. Each weekend my long run would then be between 10 and 14 miles at an easy pace.

Training hadn't gone to badly, to my surprise. I'd been hitting the same 6:40/mi averages I'd had a couple of years ago when I first started trying to get a sub-90 half. Things hadn't gone to plan until Robin Hood Half Marathon - that was my first time dipping under 90 minutes; but I still hadn't hit the 6:40/mi pace I'd hit in training. One of my friends has a PB of around 88:30, so whilst I shouldn't really be comparing my running with other people - I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to see if I could match their time. We're similar paced runners after all, and I know they could beat that now - so maybe I could match their time from January. Maybe.

Race day was fortunately without snow, but there was the frequent presence of wind and a threat of rain. It'd rained all the way to the race venue, but seemed to have stopped just before I arrived. I'd planned to wear shorts and t-shirt for this one, and after a short warm-up I thought I'd made the right choice. I cooled off very quickly though, and when I discovered the cold wind blowing of the lake I decided a base layer might be a good idea. Would I regret this later?

Before the race I saw Jason and Carmen - both of which are #visorclub members. I'm sure there was someone else I said "hi" to as well, but my mind was that numb from the cold I couldn't remember who.

The race started late, and standing around in the cold with spots of rain hitting me on the head - I figured I'd made the right decision. For the first mile, heading north from Willen Lake, I found it slow going. There were a lot of people in front of me and in front of the 90 minute pacer (the fastest one they had this time) that were doing 08:00/mi. I think it's probably in part because there's a bit of climbing to do in that first mile, but I did my best to overtake when I could so that my average pace wasn't too much slower than target. Those lost seconds were ones I could make up at any time, in theory, but I made them up in the next two miles so that as I passed the church in Great Linford, and the 5K mark I'd made this time up. Twenty minutes in, under seventy minutes to go; hopefully.

The ground so far had been a mixture of muddy puddles, muddy edges to the path, and copious amounts of decaying leaves. They weren't particularly slippert; but it was good to be careful. Without really thinking about it I'd been timing strides to miss the worst of the puddles - so at least my feet would remain dry. Even this early on I thought it was harder to maintain this pace than it should have been, and for the next couple of miles my pace fluctuated greatly.

I think between the climbs and the wind I was tiring out a little quicker than I normally would, though I was no longer cold. The sun had come out and now the base layer was proving to be a bad idea. Maybe there'd be opportunity to remove it later.

During the fifth mile there was one awful hairpin bend. Running down hill meant I'd picked up pace a little, but at the bottom of the hill I had to almost turn back on myself for this bend, and the path narrowed to be only one person wide. It was a case of slowing down rapidly, or overshooting onto the mud and potentially sliding down the muddy hill. The end of this mile took me into the Loughton Valley Linear Park. This area was a little more familiar - and I remembered having walked through some of this in February. This time I was determined I wouldn't - I pushed on.

I was concentrating so much that a during the sixth mile I managed to run into a gate at the top of a small hill when turning. It certainly surprised me - fortunately it didn't feel that painful, so I carried on going. My next thought was that an MK local I know was spectating somewhere in the seventh mile so I knew I had to keep pushing on so they wouldn't have to see me walking. I guess it's good to find ways to keep your mind busy, or to find reasons to keep on going. Not too long after I passed, I slowed to a walk before reaching mile 8 so I could remove my base layer and tie it around my waist. That would at least keep me cooler for what remained, so I got running again. I'd done the first seven miles in just under 47 minutes; I needed to do the remaining 10K in a little over 41 minutes. I wasn't that sure I could do it - I was losing confidence in my training. It didn't help I'd left my jelly babies in the car so had nothing to fuel with. Half marathons are hard. I know how to deal with 10Ks - run fast, and hold on. I know more or less how to pace myself for a marathon too - but halves? I just can't seem to get them right.

As I got closer to mile 9 I realised where I was - this was the bit I hadn't liked last time. It was the hairpin bend that goes into a hill climb alongside the road at mile 9. I decided I wasn't even going to try - I slowed to a walk again. I was not enjoying the route along Chaffron Way and walked a couple more times before the turn to go underneath the road. With "only a parkrun" to go, maybe now I could keep going and claw my way back to the sort of time I wanted. Yeah, right - the 90 minute pacer overtook me. It did at least give me the encouragement to get running and keep up. Eventually I did creep passed, and then when the downhill section arrived I sped up to 5:35/mi pace for about half a mile. I'd at least left the pacer behind, and I knew when the eventual climb came that I'd be walking again. I did; albeit briefly. Things were looking up - if I could stay ahead of the pacer then I'd at least be getting a PB even if not the one I wanted.

Over the last few miles, I pushed myself to keep running as much as possible yet still walked very briefly a few times. It didn't help that there was a man with a dog who was deliberately standing in the way of runners on the Redway as well. He proudly exclaimed, "I'm standing on the Redway with my dog". That he was - runners were having to run onto the muddy grass to get passed to the dismay of the spectators. For a traffic free route I also had to slow a bit in the twelth mile for a passing mini which the marshals hadn't stopped (they'd got their backs to the road at the time). I think these obstacles were nothing though compared to my own failure to keep running.

The closer I got to where I believed the finish to be, the more I pushed myself to continue. When the finish came into view I didn't have the energy to sprint that soon. I held back until I knew I could manage it and then went for it - hitting 5:12/mi as I crossed the finish line. I had no idea whether I'd managed the time I wanted. I was convinced it was bad, and didn't look at my time until I'd got my finishers medal and was sitting down. 1:28:58 - had I done it? My head wasn't clear enough to figure it out, but I'd PB'd by almost a full minute, even though I'd not hit the target I'd set. Crazy as it was, I was feeling disappointed in myself not for having missed that target, but for having walked. It wasn't what I'd wanted after how well Robin Hood had gone.

My official time was 88:53, in position 91 out of 1,977 finishers. One of my friends reminded me that this was a time I'd done in not the greatest of conditions, and that on another day I'd do better. Maybe the terrain didn't help either - it wasn't quite as flat as I'd remembered. They were right of course - I think straight after a race you don't always see too clearly.