The Nike coach gathered everyone to the stadium’s start line and introduced the first drill; three 200m intervals, alternating speeds from steady to fast. The crowd of enthusiastic runners stood silently whilst the routine was explained, besides one middle aged runner who’d been energetically jumping up and down on the spot and doing lunges back and forth whilst the coach spoke.
‘Yeah, this is a great one guys. Remember to pace yourself and that it isn’t a race. We’re all different people with different bodies and different abilities. Right, let’s go!’ he said, whilst everyone else stayed quiet and broke into a jog, filing behind the young, reserved coach. The drill was completed and everyone gathered back to the start line to catch their breath and hear what was next.
‘Great stuff everyone. Lovely form coming into the back straight. Remember to keep your head up and those knees high.’ said not the coach, but the vocal member of the pack, as everyone else panted, resting their hands on their knees and leaning forward in exhaustion. The coach had his support staff set up rows of hurdles and demonstrate the next drill, focused on technique.
After five rounds of moving over and under the rows of hurdles, everyone gathered once more at the side of the track, some shaking off their now stretched legs whilst others strolled trackside to sip from their bottles of water.
‘You mustn’t underestimate the importance of hydration guys, but don’t just go drinking any old liquid. Train with the drink you’ll be using on the day. Some people gulp any old sugary juice down and end up throwing up mid-race, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?’ commented that same guy, again to a crowd that shuffled back and forth in much silence.
After an hour of drills focused on speed control and running form, the coach introduced the final activity of the day, a steady two lap race. The winner would receive two tickets to the following weekend’s professional athletics event, courtesy of Nike, the run club’s sponsor. The runners lined up across the start line and set off to the coach’s whistle.
For the first lap, everyone moved around the track in one reserved, very British group, all staying in pretty much the same position. As they approached the final lap, the vocal man began moving through the pack towards the front. ‘Time to pick it up now guys. Excuse my running commentary. Pardon the pun!’ he shouted, moving around the outside of the pack into third position.
‘One more bend and the home straight to go. Will experience triumph over youth in the home straight!’ he continued, passing another runner to place himself in second position. ‘He’s got one more runner to pick off before he does it. Surely, this will be a victory of wisdom over naivety!’
With 50 meters to go, the young front runner stretched away, effortlessly striding through the finish lane, creating a large gap in front of his loud competition. The coach handed the winner his tickets as the rest of the group caught up and huddled together, sweaty and breathless.
‘Great session guys. I saw a real improvement in all of you. Well done. This is my eighth week here and I have to say, there’s such a great atmosphere amongst us. There’s not one person that grates on anyone else and takes it all too seriously!’
The coach and group made their way under the spectators stand into the changing rooms. The middle aged man dropped to the floor and started doing press ups.
‘Don’t forget your stretches guys. It’s real important you warm down…Guys?’