I dragged my mother in law and hubby out to the fun run. Well, no, actually I didn’t; they were whinging about getting up so early, and I told them that they were free to go back to bed if they wanted to.
I was not terribly hopeful about this run, given last night’s seediness which ran into this morning. I got up, had a coffee and a banana, and we shuffled down to Prinny.
Sri C races are very friendly, I had a chat with a girl about her x-socks (she ended up running 2nd or 3rd in the 10km).
The 3 of us lined up at the start. There was a father talking to his 2 sons about race etiquette (keep to the left), the 5 or 6 year olds solemnly nodded. Induction from an early age.
The gun went off (actually it was just a bloke saying “ready, set, go”). The beast in me was unleashed. Some FOOL was bent over adjusting his ipod just after the start line, nearly knocked him over, dangerous for all concerned. I got a bit over-excited, was going at 5:30 pace, and made myself slow down to 6minute kms. Hubby kept up with me for the whole first kilometre! I was so proud!
I kept the pace on, even tried to slow a bit, but found slowing down difficult. It was a beautiful morning. I had a drink at 2.5km. Then the hilly part. Given that I was feeling a bit crook, I elected to walk up the steep bits to avoid the spewy feeling. It was only about 20 metres.
The hairpin at Royal Park Station slowed me down somewhat.
I checked my watch: 5:58 minute kms. Cool!
I ran up the final hill, being sure to smile for the camera. A smile that did not look like a grimace!
The final straight: I was tired and feeling sick, but managed to keep the pace at 6:08. During this time I grunted and groaned and probably sounded like rhinoceroses (rhinoceri??) mating.
I got to the line and checked my watch: 31:35! I had been cautiously hoping for under 32 or 33 minutes! Even though I was feeling crook, I smashed it! Imagine what I can do when well!
I went and waited around. The winner of the 10km event was a female with bright pink hair, through in 34 minutes something.
At about the 39 minute mark, I saw hubby and he was jogging! I gave him a big yell, and he smiled the most beautiful smile. He finished and I took him to the water station, as he was tuckered.
At the water station, I saw the bright pink hair lady and congratulating her. She was super friendly, her name was Victoria, and she told me she was a steeplechaser by trade. She told me that the runner up, a male, had been “chicked” (ie beaten by a chick). I told her that she was a bloody legend and she handed his arse to him on a platter. She asked me how I went, I told her about my PB, and she congratulated me.
My mother in law had not finished the race – she decided to rip her number off when she saw that she was the only one walking. She was a bit upset. A bit of a dampener on things.
On the way back home, I cheered on the 15km winner, heading through the chute in 52 something minutes. He thanked me for cheering him! What a legend!
It was really good to mingle with some elites, to have them appreciate your presence; they get it. Everyone is there to do their best and improve themselves or just enjoy a lovely morning.
Oooh, and here is my effort:
It is all very poetic really, Jesus rising from the dead, me rising from feeling icky.
P.S. What is with all the blokes spitting on the course? It is yucky, my PT does it, and he also does a pretty accurate snot-rocket as well. Though I must say, I have envy of this; I know if I tried spitting or snot rockets, I would end up with it down my front or something like that.