THE DNA OF A DNF
RODDLESWORTH ROLLER
DNF. Did Not Finish. An acronym runners never like to be associated with. I might get back to the tedious detail leading up to my very own DNF, which paled in to insignificance at the Roddlesworth Roller last Sunday. But more so I would like to explore a little further in to the dark world of the runner who pulls out of a race. There is a definitive stigma of failure attached to a DNF and an often staining legacy upon a runner's self respect. I've had four DNF's in the past, through injury, through exhaustion and through chucking my toys out of the pram.
Certainly a DNF by injury is without choice and therefore an easier burden for the conscience to accept - yet latterly depressing - for there is the consequence of the injury to consider and the frustration of being sidelined for an indefinite period of time.
DNF by exhaustion boils down to the amount of stubbornness and resolve of an individual. Those whose stubbornness isn't matched by resolve may allow themselves to reach a stage where they sacrifice wellness or risk injury for the sake of bravado. Those with a more matter of fact outlook might know exactly when to pull the plug and think of the long term. To some, the latter would be a clear choice between being hardcore or a softy. To others it's a simple distinction between madness or sensibility.
DNF by dummy spit and toy chucking is just a messy place to be and a sure way to feel diappointed in yourself. At least that is my view from personal experience. But we are human and these things can happen.
DNF by just not feeling you can't race to a decent enough standard on the day to satisfy your competitive needs could be deemed as an equally lame excuse and bottling out by some, yet perfectly understandable by others. This can depend on the class of the runner and whether more stoic or perfectionist. Those gifted few that possess both of these traits in abundance would tend to be the very cream of the crop that can rely on raw talent to pull them through and avoid such a consequence.
Nobody wants to DNF. Nobody really bothers to travel and turn up for a race thinking they'll see how it goes but probably pull out at some point. Many runners tell ourselves we'll never DNF and pride ourselves, foolhardily or not, on a clean slate at finishing every single race they've started. But a DNF can happen to anybody, anytime and once that seal has been broken, thoughts about a DNF can creep in during a race that may not be going particularly well and then those thoughts need dealing with - again, speaking from experience!
My DNF seal was first broken years ago at the Three Shires fell race after a bad fall. The choice was made for me, my right knee was a right mess and it was all over. The next time was at Sedburgh Hills where I pulled something and maybe could have carried on, but most definitely had made things worse in the long run over that beast of a course, so cop out I plea not. Three Peaks last year? Well I just wasn't up to the job and was ill prepared. Then less than two years ago, I spat the dummy and threw the toys out at Sabden Trail Race. Not running as well as I thought I should or could - deluded really, given my form and fitness at the time - I just stopped and started trotting back the opposite way. Since that particular incident at Sabden, DNF demons plague my thoughts when I perceive that a race isn't going well. The process tends to happen early on if the legs feel heavy and there seems to be little sign of any reasonable output despite the expense of maximum input. Thoughts such as, ''This is crap, I'll give it a bit longer and see how it goes", or "I'll see how I am at the top of that next climb", or "Oh shit, suchabody's passing me now, this is bloody awful''... the demons start dragging me down. More often than not I can dig out a positive response and at some point get myself back in to the race. Sometimes I deliberate over pulling out for so long that I might as well just carry on as the race is over half way around so a DNF becomes an even more pointless exercise! Sometimes I've just had a rusty start and it takes a few miles for the engines to fire. But like it or not, I can't hide the fact that since that cop out at Sabden, I've left the door ajar for a mental weakness.
Heart, legs and lungs are the big players on race day, but if the head starts to get overly involved when the adrenaline is pumping around, this is when there is a vulnerability. The head - and certainly my extensively sized version - is not always to be trusted once in the heat of competitive action. The head can set the legs off too quickly, believe the impossible, overrate our own capabilities. The head might also tell us we are not up to the job, to quit before it gets worse, underrate our own capabilities.     
For whatever the reason and whether a spontaneous action, carefully calculated or just a desperate necessity, a DNF can be a personally haunting memory for a competitiv runner and can only begin to be put right by the next opportunity to put some kit back on and get a decent run in. That is precisely what happened to me after last Sunday's DNF. The batteries felt more charged the day after and I found myself blasting out cross country laps on the local park in the mud and rain as hard as I could and enjoyed the punishment. It did the trick I think.
I'm not a happy bunny about feeling the need to pull out on Sunday but there's no point getting hung up about it. This latest DNF came under the category of just not feeling up to standard. I've been training fairly well, got sessions and races under my belt of late, felt strong all last week and was confident of having quite a decent run at Roddlesworth this year. I think I made the mistake of running with the dog the day before a bit further than I ought to. Yep, if in doubt blame the dog among other lame excuses. A mile in and everything was feeling more and more out of sync. I was blowing hard and yet well shy of race pace and I spent probably less than half a minute considering the option to drop out before saying ''sod this'' and deviating off course to the other side of the woods for a couple of miles on my own before heading back to register my DNF status. That somebody shouted to me, "Mate! This way, mate", from behind was a wee source of amusement to soften the blow. There were at least half a dozen guys closely filed in singular fashion on the main track ahead of me and it would have been a quite ridiculous alternative route choice!
In retrospect, if this had been a race I'd not done before in unfamiliar territory and unfamiliar company then I'd have muddled through. But as it was, I didn't see the point. I'd like to think I'm a better runner than that at the moment, even if I may be judged a lesser person for pressing the quit button so readily.

Sunday 11th March 2018
RODDLESWORTH ROLLER   Abbey Village, Lancs.   5.5m
1st Man - Chris Davies (Blackburn H.) 33:19
1st Lady - Jenifer Dixon (Middleton) 40:38
My Stats - DNF