Winds of change

It's been a while.   Almost a year since I last blogged.  Well, time to dust off the keyboard and start again.  Thanks for reading last year's posts.

2017 has been fun in terms of races.  Fun and 'fun'.  The 2nd one means they weren't actually fun, in case you weren't sure.

The particular 'fun' race I have in mind was the annual Hastings half marathon.  A staple of most local runners spring, 3,000 runners come to the streets of Hastings for, seriously, one of the best middle/long distance events in the country.  The support has always been great, but this year, as we passed crowds, they saw us in our Hastings Runners vests and raised the roof for us.  If you were one of those, thanks.  It really does help.

Image result for hastings half marathon
Ben Fish of Blackburn Harriers crosses the line to win.  One of the slowest winning times on record.

Anyway, the titular wind.  2017 Hastings half marathon was recognised as the windiest in it's 33 year history.  That's not a problem in itself, except that the wind this year was blowing in such a direction and speed that the final section of the race (a 2.5 mile straight shot along the seafront) was running into a 23 mph headwind.  If you've never experienced this, it's like running with a giant hand pushing into your chest.  It sucks.  So many runners this year arrived at the seafront on track for pbs (me included) and got to the line much slower than their pb (me included).  So what's the deal with running against the wind?

Basically, the maths goes like this.  There's about a 8% increase in energy cost to run into a 10 mph wind.  So logic would suggest that running into a 20mph wind would be twice as hard, right?  WRONG.  In tests, the effort of running or cycling against the wind actually increased by the square of the increased airflow.  So doubling the wind speed quadruples the effort, and doubling it again makes it 8 times harder, etc.  Hopefully this show how monstrous the headwind we faced was.  Or, at least, some of us faced it.  Some runners, however, had an ace up their sleeve.

If you've ever watched geese in flight, that chevron formation they form isn't an accident.  The goose at the front acts as a wind shelter for the others, and they take turns.  Well blow me down (pun intended) if, arriving on the seafront, 3 or 4 runners took up position behind me for a good half a mile, recovered in the shelter of my windbreak, and then off they went!  Tactical racing at it's best.  I'd have done the same.  

The worst bit, the most terrible part of wind in a race by far, is that when you run with a tail wind, you only get back about 50% of the losses you experienced from the headwind.  Wind and weight are the biggest enemies of runners and cyclists.  Weight you can control. 

What's the learning point from this?  You just have to factor wind into your expectations for the race.  If your aim is to beat someone, wind is irrelevant.  If you're attempting a pb, accept that high winds may scupper your ambitions.  I was hard on myself after the wind of Hastings, but when I crunched the numbers, I discovered I finished slower but placed higher than last year.  Which is fine.  But you can take steps to lower the effects of wind resistance, other than doing your Marcel Marceau impression. Here are the top tips:

1.  Run behind someone if you can.  Even running 2-3 metres back produces a noticeable drop in effort.
2.  Choose tighter clothing.  A flappy top is like a sail.  Go tighter, go faster.  This is also true of cycling.
3.  If the wind is very strong, you can lower your head into your chest a little.  I wouldn't advocate bending right over as this is poor running form, but lowering the head slightly can help.

Good luck with the next windy race you run. And if you've never watched geese in flight, here's a fun fact; On the ground, they're called a gaggle.  In flight, it's a skein.  Go figure.

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