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Half way there already
Well, I made it. Not as fast as I would have liked, but not last either - and I even ran across the finishing line.
Getting up at 7am on a Sunday was not fun - I didn't even get up that early when I stacked supermarket shelves - but then no one said charitable endeavours were meant to be easy.
After an athlete's breakfast of banana and Weetabix - plus one horse-sized Glucosamine tablet - nerves were jangling and my inherent grumpiness had settled in for the drive to Leeds.
Once there, and having found our way to Millennium Square, I decided to forgo the communal warm-up in favour of standing around, swigging from my trusty water bottle (which sadly didn't finish the race) and getting nervous.
The one thing they don't tell you about with races such as these is the amount of waiting around there is.
We waited in the square. We waited in the roads leading to The Headrow, and then we waited to actually get going - even after the start had been signalled. That's what happens when you're trying to funnel 11,000 people along a dual carriageway I guess. It gives you a rare sympathy for sheep at dipping time.
I really have no recollection of anything before reaching the 5K marker. I know I had to walk a couple of bits, and at some stage we had to get out of the way of an ambulance (hopefully not one of my fellow runners), but other than that it's all a bit of a blur.
The one thing I do remember is thinking they'd hidden the markers.
Apparently they were stationed at every kilometre, but the 5 was the first one I saw. And it was miles further than I'm sure it should have been.
After that, I registered every marker, grateful for it's huge numerical flappiness signalling my nearing the finishing line. And they really help.
As does music.
At the risk of incurring the wrath of my Ireland-based music guru, Led Zeppelin, Linkin Park, Live, Juliette And The Licks, Guns n Roses and (even I'm mildly embarrassed here) Little Angels gave me timely boosts.
As did overtaking people. Well, until you realised they were asthmatic. That kind of took the edge of. Especially when they finished ahead of me. But I digress.
One hour 19 minutes after we started, I jogged across the line, sweat smearing my sunglasses, amazed that I'd actually managed what i set out to achieve.
All I have to do know is repeat the feat in two weeks on the streets of London.
After that, I'm taking the rest of the year off.
In this section
- The Eiseman cometh...
- It's hard to get going in the summer...
- I'm still standing (yeah yeah yeah)...
- The trainers now leaving Hyde Park...
- My morning routine is not my own...
- No pain, no gain. Probably...
- Measuring success...
- I could knee-d some help
- Do the iPod shuffle...
- If M is is for Mystery, what's the S for?