Cadair X Trail Half Marathon, 3 Jun 2023

I think I learn something from every race I take part in. Last year, I was just finding my feet with the whole racing thing, so each race felt like a success if I got to the finish line. Coming back to do this race again having come second last year, I felt like my expectations had gone beyond just finishing (which, given the elevation of Cadair - 1200m, is a feat in itself). I really wanted to win. Or at least be close to winning. Last year’s winner, Helen, had taken the lead from the beginning and I had barely seen her after that point (except for the long climb at the very end), so this year I wanted to be more “in the race”.

But Helen is a class runner, and she wasn’t about to make it easy for me. I led for the first 10/15 minutes of the climb. I knew from racing Helen last year that she was excellent on the uphill, but I backed myself to descend as quickly, or more so, than she would. So tactically, I planned to stay with her on the ascent, aware that she would likely set the pace, and then, if I held on for long enough, maybe I would have a chance to overtake later in the race.

The first four kilometres of the race is entirely uphill, totalling about 750m elevation over just 4km. To put this into perspective, the first kilometre I averaged a pace of 12:26/km, which translates to a 4:46/km GAP. This pace over such a high elevation didn’t feel comfortable to me, but with Helen pushing the pace from behind, trying to overtake from the get-go, I was working hard to stave her off. Too hard. I didn’t look at my watch, but I imagine my HR was around 205. That’s not really where I wanted to be for a race that would last over 2.5 hrs. I had to pull back.

Once Helen overtook me, I realised I couldn’t stay with her. I was in the red: panting, heart beating in my ears, black spots in my vision…you get the picture. As I saw her getting further and further ahead, the temptation to stop was strong. But I forced myself to concentrate. Up until that point, I hadn’t really been running my own race - I had been running Helen’s. I wasn’t enjoying myself and I was falling behind anyway. I took a tentative look backwards to see if I could see how close behind the 3rd woman was, but she was nowhere in sight. Slightly relieved, I took a deep breath and pushed on, but more at my own pace this time. I caught up with 3 other runners and the 4 of us headed toward the summit. It all felt a lot faster than last year!

When we summited, I still wasn’t feeling great, but I could see Helen ahead of me by around 90secs, judging by when she passed landmarks, so I was reassured that I hadn’t fallen too far behind.

Then disaster struck - I took a wrong turn at the very start of the descent. Suddenly finding myself on the wrong side of a boulder field I had to slow considerably to clamber over enormous boulders. I wasn’t alone. Another runner had followed me and, both frustrated, we helped each other over this section. I reckon we lost between 3-5 minutes on this section (there were a LOT of boulders!). Suddenly I couldn’t see Helen anymore. And then something unexpected happened - I started to enjoy myself. The realisation that I wouldn’t catch up felt like a pressure being lifted off my shoulders. I realised I had stifled my enjoyment with expectations of outcomes instead of being present.

The rest of the race flew by. I ran it alongside the runner who had been lost with me, a man named Tim, who was a wonderful companion, as well as a true gentleman (he held most of the gates we passed through open for me, which was a big energy saver for me).  The boulder field had allowed my HR to drop to a more comfortable rate in the low 160s, and this combined with the desire to make up the lost time led to some pretty ferocious descending. We overtook so many runners– people were literally jumping out of the way as we hurtled past them!

There were a couple of other tough uphill sections in the latter half of the race. The course had changed since 2022 and was more challenging now and I could really feel it in my legs by the last ascent. It was also roasting hot by this point because the race hadn’t started until 10am so the sun was at its zenith and was scorching us all! My enjoyment, which had peaked during the descent, was now pretty low and I just wanted to push to make the finish line come faster. The turning to the finish was really poorly marked (actually, not marked at all), and Tim and I actually ran past it and had to double back at the end. We were both pretty binned, and couldn’t compete with the runner that had come behind us and taken advantage of our mis-navigation!

In the end, I finished 9th overall and 2nd female. My chip time was 02:34:32 – over 4 minutes faster than last year (despite all the mishaps and changed course!). Although I was a little disappointed that I had missed out on contesting with Helen, I was proud of myself for pushing through, and happy that I had found that race euphoria for at least part of the race. I’ll be back again next year. To run my own race, not someone else’s!

Emilia Miller