RACE REPORT BY NARNI FULFORD – 7th September 2025
Conditions were favourable as yours truly banged her way over from West Yorkshire in the trusty wagon, heading for the erroneously titled ‘Vale of York half marathon’, which is a good deal closer to Selby than it is to York. The drive was straightforward and boasted bucolic scenery, and I’d left a healthy chunk of time in order to account for the inevitable queue to get onto the parking field. A phone call from the ever-effervescent Jolene as I swung my way majestically into a space beside a tasty Porsche told me that a) there was a huge queue for the portaloos and b) yes they were in it, and I could sneak in alongside if I hurried up. Fantastic.
Wees had, bags stashed in the boot, we trundled our way merrily to the starting line, hopped up some banking and slotted into the pack. It wasn’t too long after the advertised 9.30am start that we were off, and spirits were high. Jenny and Helen swooped straight off into the distance, and Amy set up a cracking consistent pace that I was determined to follow. Having seen her marathon training go from strength to strength on Strava I resolved to use her as my pacer, and stuck tightly to her for the first 10km. A cheeky caffeinated gel at 10.5 provided a psychological surge, and I resolved to step it up a bit whilst I still could. Encouraging Amy to chase me down (and certain that she would, given the final harrowing sprint at the Wombwell 5), I tootled along and after another few km came across a sprightly looking Helen, who was bemoaning the lack of on-route portaloos. I was unsure as to what sort of encouragement would be best, but settled for “you can’t stop now babe, you’d have to go in a bush and this would be undignified”. I think it helped.
Miraculously the knee was holding up and the legs felt like they might have a bit more juice in them, so I scampered on for the last 4km, spotting Jolene at an intersection and having our usual “let’s ‘av it Stocksbridge” screaming match at one another. If we won nothing else, we definitely won the loudest club. It’s at this stage in proceedings that I start doing a lot of mental maths to distract myself from having to keep up the same pace and not let it drop off. If the countdown numbers round could take place in the final 20% of any of my races, I’d surely be national champion.
2km to go and the Sun coming out was starting to thoroughly annoy me; where were the cool, overcast conditions of the first 10km? Very unreasonable of the weather if you ask me. I spotted resident speedster Jenny in the distance, offered up a prayer to the race Gods, and limped past with all the grace of a donkey, shouting “I’m dying” as I did so. The final half a km was absolutely horrendous, and my only consolation was that at least it was flat, and in less than 3 minutes the whole ordeal would be over.
Water supped, post-race crunchie demolished, snazzy wooden medal donned, and lemon San Pellegrino queued for, we basked in the glory of several PBs amongst the SRC crew. Jolene’s son also finished his first ever half marathon; a similarly magnificent achievement. We had Narni Fulford in 1:46:41(PB), Jenny Elsegood in 1:46:44, Helen Kellar in 1:47:44(PB), Amy Hutchinson in 1:49:52(PB) and Jolene Allen in 2:10:58.
If you like a fast flat road half and don’t mind it smelling HEAVILLY of the countryside, then the Vale of York half marathon is for you.
