Jen, one of our community members recalls her first experience of pacing a friend.
One of my most rewarding half marathons was over an hour and a half longer than my fastest. The terrain wasn’t technical, the weather was perfect and the hills were far from brutal. I didn’t get ill, pick up an injury or get lost, but I did have an important role to fulfil.
I was pacing a friend at her first try at the distance. She’d signed up spontaneously, before realising she hated running and hadn’t done it since school, so we’d spent the past three months training at lunch times and weekends to transform her into a willing runner. Now the big day was here, she didn’t seem so sure. I could tell the slightly cruel uphill start had panicked her and after struggling to the top, she asked if we could walk.
Fighting myself from looking at my watch, I conceded and we slowed down. After a few minutes, when her breathing had calmed, we started running again. But it’s hard to continue running when you’ve stopped to walk, so the rest of our race took on a run/walk pattern, despite knowing she could have run the lot. That was fine, though. She’d given a broad ballpark finishing time and we could still make it.
There was a fine line between bullying and encouragement. Being firm and suggesting she run, was then followed by feeling bad when I could see she was finding it hard. I began to adopt dirty tactics, bribing her with jelly babies, moving the goalpost until the next walk and lying about the distance we’d covered. Every time she threatened to stop and give up, I saw the deceit as a lesser evil if it just kept her moving.
Any frustration in going slowly had to be swallowed, even though a sneaky look at my watch told me I’d have been long finished. This was not my race, I had a job to do and I’d almost finished. And as we approached the last corner, I could see her head lift and almost smile. She began to run faster, eyes on the prize. This was why I was here.
She raced off to the finish line. I held back to enjoy her moment – a combination of relief at still being alive, exhaustion from moving for over three hours and excitement at finishing her biggest challenge yet. I burst with pride.
If you have a pacing experience you’d like to share with us, we’d love to hear it at info@racepacing.com.
