East Region Disability Athletics Championships

On 9th May five intrepid wheelchair athletes from Cambridge and Coleridge AC made their way to Chelmsford to compete in the Eastern Region Disability Athletics Championships. There, we came up against athletes from across the East of England across a range of distances. For all but one of us, it was the first time we had taken part in an event like this so it was a fantastic learning experience as well as being a fun and lucrative day out!

For me, going to Chelmsford was a bit bittersweet. I went to school in Chelmsford for 14 years, and spent a considerable proportion of those years training and racing at Melbourne Athletics Track, where the Eastern Championships were held. After I fractured my spine in a gymnastics accident aged 13 and took a good chunk of time out of sport, I got more heavily involved in athletics, which felt like the activity which aggravated my sore back the least. My high school squad was very successful, and our training sessions at Melbourne were intense but fun. I enjoyed getting fit again after a long period of inactivity, and developing my skills in long jump, triple jump and sprints. Along the way, I also tried pole vault and hurdles but a distinct lack of height held me back from becoming very successful here! Anyway, I remember being at Melbourne for primary school sports days, for successful district and regional competitions as a 300m runner and long jumper, and as a coach for younger athletes when my body started giving up on me. I remembered how it felt to have all my kit eternally covered in sand from the long jump pit, to spend long evenings in the winter training and joking inside, and to feel the satisfaction of running freely in the sunshine for lap after lap of the track, building up endurance, loosening the joints, and enjoying the warmth on my arms, my legs and my back. 

Me at Melbourne, aged 6, with the cup our relay team won!

I also remembered the frustration of gradually losing speed and fitness as pain and weakness took over; of finding it increasingly difficult to co-ordinate my movements, first in field events and then track; of becoming less and less competitive until eventually I was hospitalised and deteriorated so much that, until January this year, I had only returned to an athletics track for one brief and underwhelming performance representing my college at university. Melbourne was the last place where I regularly trained and competed before becoming very ill aged 16, and before stopping all sport completely for years aged 17. I therefore had some mixed feelings about going back, even though I was excited to be making my reappearance in a new guise.  

With a silly hat and a sillier grin!

The first race of the day for C&C athletes was the 1500m, which I had decided not to enter in an uncharacteristically sensible moment bearing in mind that I would be spending all of the next day travelling and competing too (see future post on RDA regionals!). I arrived in time to watch the other four going off. With three women and one man racing, the club came home with two golds, a silver and a bronze, and I was really impressed by how all my friends pushed themselves hard in their first race of the day. Once their race was over and I had collected my numbers and taped them onto the chair, I headed out onto the track for a bit of a warm up. A friendly marshal helped me to work out what lane I would be in for my first race (the 400m) so I spent some time making sure that the compensator was set up correctly for the bend as well as for the straights. My steering mechanism had worked itself quite loose and wobbly, so I also tightened up all the bolts to hold it in place a bit better so it would resist the extra force going through as I started on the first bend.      

Claire, Becky and Naomi coming through for the last lap of the 1500m.

I was quite nervous leading up to the first race and even feel a bit sick about it now! I didn’t really know how I’d do over the distance, and it was the first opportunity to race the distance against not only those from other clubs but also the C&C athletes. I knew (from a bit of internet reconaissance) that there was a young girl (11 years old!) from a Herts club who was very quick, and although we weren’t competing for the same medals I didn’t want her to beat me (something about being more than twice her age…). I was also nervous because I didn’t really know how to pace myself in a 400m wheelchair race. When I was at school I used to run the 300m/400m and I had a nice plan which always seemed to work - go out hard, stick with the pack until the second bend (or the first/only bend in the 300m), then start to make a move through that bend so that you come out on the final straight ahead of the others almost without them realising it until it’s too late. In a chair, though, and knowing very little of the field, I almost felt that any tactical manoeuvre would come a poor second to the plan of ‘just push as hard as you can until you stop.’ 

 

How it ended up was like this: I sat on the start line, having confirmed with the marshals what the procedure would be (I’ve spent so long only doing rowing races that I don’t know how athletics works anymore!). At ‘on your marks’, I wheeled my chair up to the line, checked that my compensator was on, and checked that I was sitting where I wanted to be in my lane and pointing in the correct direction. At ‘set’, I rested my hands on the push rims and focussed on taking some good, deep breaths. Through a combination of my crazy body and sheer nerves, my arms were really wobbly, to the extent that it took quite a lot of concentration to prevent my hands from falling off the wheels! Finally the gun blew (LOUDLY!) and we were off. I focussed on having a good solid start and was vaguely aware that I was moving away from the field. By the time we came out into the first straight, I could feel the 11-year-old athlete quite close on my inside, but had no idea where anybody else was. Coming into the second bend, I managed to get the steering so it was almost perfect (a first time for everything!), but by this time I was thinking alternately ‘I’m getting tired now’ and ‘just keep going and don’t screw up!’. Coming out of the second bend, I felt that I’d extended the lead and now all I needed to do was keep pushing, quickly but smoothly and powerfully, to the line. I crossed it first, whacked the compensator back on and glided round the bend again, breathing heavily but feeling good. One down, three to go!

At the finish of the 400m, with 11-year-old Courtney Daly in the left of the picture.

My next race was the 200m. I was in a different lane, so headed out early again to set up the steering. In this shorter race, getting the steering right at the start would give me the maximum chance of success, whereas getting it wrong would really hinder me. I checked my straight steering as well (always a bit of give and take with it) and then headed round for this shorter sprint. Again, my main competition was the 11-year-old Courtney, although again she was competing for junior medals and I was racing the other seniors in my race. It says a lot for her talent that she beat all the other seniors in each of her races, and has apparently been doing so since she was 9! There was also a chap in my race but one look at him told me that I didn’t have to worry about trying to beat him - he would definitely be faster! This didn’t really bother me; my main aim was to put down a good time for myself and to come in with another gold medal.

I don't have a picture of the 200, so here's a bonus one of the end of the 400. I was tired!

I felt much more confident going into this race, because I had eliminated part of the fear of the unknown. That being said, unlike in the 400m, there was only one other C&C athlete in this race, so I didn’t really know how most of the field would race. My plan was simple - it’s a short race, so start hard, go hard in the middle, and finish hard. Obviously it’s a little bit more complex than that - do some good short and sharp starting pushes, then lengthen out, then keep up the rating and the power until you cross that finish line. Simple! Another good race with Courtney hot on my heels again, but I came across as the first lady and another gold.

The medal haul at lunchtime!

After that we had a lunch break, which was very welcome even though it was still quite early. I don’t really like eating at competitions in case I feel ‘heavy’ or sick afterwards, but I managed to get a sandwich down me and plenty to drink (and I did make up for a small lunch in the evening with a massive curry!). My first race after lunch was the 800m - my longest race of the day. Again, I was in a different lane, so again I spent some time setting up my steering and gently getting my shoulders moving after some stiffness creeping in from the morning’s racing.

Sharing a joke at the start...

The 800m was an all C&C affair - four of us competing (this time) for three medals. You wouldn’t really know this on the start line though - although we are all quite(/very) competitive, we all get on really well, and we had a good giggle at the start, as per usual, even though I can’t remember what we were laughing about. We all checked several times about the protocol for being in lanes - unlike in the shorter races, in the 800m we were allowed to leave our lane, but only after crossing a green line in the track (so as to make the staggered start on the bend fair for everyone). The precise location of this green line was made more obvious by a helpful marshal with a flag!

So many lines!

My plan for the 800m was even more vague than for the 400m. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sprint the whole thing like I had in the 400m, but I was also aware that if I tried to settle into too gentle a rhythm I may have the others overtaking me, or I might run out of distance in which to post a good time. It’s that strange thing where two laps of the track feels, from the sprint perspective, enormous, and yet from the alternative perspective it feels worryingly short. As this was my first competitive 800m (rather like the others had been my first competitive 400m and 200m!) I decided just to try one idea, see if it worked, and maybe refine it for future races. My plan was simple and based on rowing - a good, fast, powerful start, making sure that I was ahead by the 100m (‘green line break point’) mark, followed by settling into a longer rhythm between 100m and 200m, and maintaining this rhythm all the way around the next 400m. Hopefully by the 600m mark I would be well ahead and could then just rely on the rhythm to keep me going across the line, but if necessary I knew that I could push myself on for the last 200m if a battle was required. This all seemed to go to plan; I got myself to the front by the green line so didn’t have to worry about getting round other people, and as I went through 400m and they rang the bell for my last lap I started listening out for the next person behind me. The bell didn’t ring for a good few seconds so I knew, going into 500m, that all was going to plan so far. Around 500m I began to get tired and had that naughty little voice in my head which says, ‘why are you doing this to me?!’. However, having done the work in the first 500m I was determined not to give in to it, and instead I started mentally chanting the two mantras that get me through these things - ‘prove it’ (which is particularly helpful when you’re in pain and can only deal, mentally, with something very simple) and ‘start pushing, then keep going until you finish’. The latter may sound obvious but it’s sometimes useful to remember that actually racing is incredibly simple - all you have to do is start and finish. Once you’ve started, you’ve done half the work, and as long as you just keep going you will eventually reach the finish. I know some would argue that there’s more to it than that (which of course there is) but simplicity cannot be overrated! Anyway, I managed to battle through the 500-600m mark in my head and then just had to hang on for the last 200m. As I came down the final straight I heard various people along it calling out my number and cheering me on (as we did for all of them), and although I was definitely VERY tired after crossing the finish line I also felt pretty pleased that it was a successful race.

The end of the 800m.

The final race of the day for me was the 100m, which felt ridiculously short after the 800m and barely worth bothering with after the previous weekend’s 10k! I got there in plenty of time because they managed to speed up through the preceding ambulant races, and I didn’t want to miss it by mistake. This gave me the chance to make a couple of friends from other clubs at the start line. We had quite a full race in the women’s wheelchair event, although I was the only racer from C&C. I managed to have a good start and kept the chair straight until about 60m, where I suddenly noticed I was veering right, and gave myself a good hop over to the left so that I could concentrate on pushing hard for the remainder of the race. Another gold!

The end of the 100m.

The other C&C ladies still had a 3000m to go, and our one chap, MJ, was racing the 100m after me. I watched his race and then we all had some photos together. I had thought I’d watch the 3000m but since that would have required hanging around for another hour and a half we all decided that it would be better for me to go home and get lots of rest before the next day’s riding competition. Although I’d have enjoyed cheering on the others, I was definitely feeling in need of a lie down and I think it was the right decision to get that bit more rest.

The C&C group - L-R Becky, MJ, me, Claire, Naomi.

Here are my times from the day:

100m - 25.72 (Gold; Silver was 32.84)
200m - 51.46 windspeed -3.0 (Gold; Silver was 1:07.01)
400m - 1:38.67 (Gold; Silver was 1:54.71)
800m - 3:26.92 (Gold; Silver was 3:45.85)

This was the first time I had times for 200, 400 and 800 so technically it was a PB in them whatever I got! However I did get a proper PB in the 100 (my previous PB was 29.2).