Four hardy athletes tootled up to North Yorkshire for the Thirsk 10 Miler, ably hosted by Thirsk and Sowerby Harriers. The ever effervescent Jolene was already in residence near race HQ, having made a weekend of the event. We crawled the final mile to the racecourse and slung the car unceremoniously on the field opposite. Navigating our way through number pick-up and the bag drop was super straight-forward, with Narni cunningly hiding her bag by wedging it behind a very heavy table (more on this later). A swift wee (absolutely loadsa women’s bogs, thanks Thirsk) and we trotted down towards the start line. At one point we briefly lost Helen, but managed to find her again via a cunning strategy of shouting ‘HELEN’ loudly into the crowd at 30 second intervals.
10.05 and we were off, shuttling our way through road closures and taking in some generally very bucolic scenery as we headed towards Newby Wiske. The course is practically flat, and we were flying as we hit the 3 mile marker and embarked upon a 2 mile out-and-back section. It was both heartening and soul destroying to see how far ahead some of the super speedy lads had gotten already at this stage, as they hurtled past us in the opposite direction. The double back route did afford us the opportunity to spot fellow SRC bods on the course though, and the award for most uncouth and generally bawdy cheering went to a passing Narni and Jolene (“let’s fucking ‘av it Stocksbridge”).
Smashing our way through Breckenbrough the 6 mile marker was in sight; legs were starting to feel the heat but we pushed in a determined fashion on towards Sandhutton. Having essentially thrown half a cup of water straight into her face at the first water station, Narni declined to take a cup at the second. Wise. Carlton Miniott and the 8 mile sign saw us herded onto the pavement, but the roads were quiet and we took advantage as we stormed through the last 20% of the race. Lactic acid was starting to accumulate and a lot of mental arithmetic was being done with regards to how much longer we would be out for. As you start the final push the racecourse comes into view and you know that you are tantalisingly close: at least there are no surprise hill finishes here.
First back was Helen in an absolutely stonking 1:16:16. Narni panted her way over the finish line in 1:18:30, with Amy hot on her heels in an impressive 1:21:57. Tim brought it home for the lads in 1:29:10, and Jolene took the award for most beautiful and happy finish line photo in 1:33:42. (All times are chip rather than gun, and provisional). Narni almost decapitated herself in retrieving her bag from behind the world’s heaviest table when it threatened to fall on her, and we headed into Thirsk centre to reward ourselves with a pint in a somewhat dubious local drinkery. All in all, a champion showing for SRC.
If you like Yorkshire scenery, are looking for a fast and flat road race, and don’t mind an hour or so tootle from South Yorkshire, the Thirsk 10 is for you. Many thanks, as ever, to the race organisers, volunteers, and friendly marshals.
