Last year, I got my 10km PB (personal best) in this race. This year, I got my 10k PW (personal worst). I'm still smiling.I'm still recovering from a headcold which started 18 days ago, and got so bad I had to take a couple of days off work (so, y'know, practically man flu!!), and it's still hanging about. The 10km race was on day 15 of the cold, and as it seemed to have largely died down, I was determined to at least get round the course. I haven't been training much at all since the latter half of 2013 - in fact the Newcastle Racecourse half marathon I did in December was the last time I've ran over 4 miles, so going in to this 10k, I knew I was in poor form. I had a bit of a cough, was generally run down, and I was completely untrained, not to mention lacking any confidence. However, I'm trying to stay positive and focussed in this sort of thing, and I told myself there was no pressure on me at all, just get round as best I could, and this would be my new 'start point'. So, with that, on race day I had a big breakfast, couple of spoons of cough medicine, got dressed in a tshirt with vest over the top (the forecast was rain) and my capris, found my Garmin and heart rate monitor, grabbed a hoody, tissues and bottle of water, and jumped in the car.
On the drive to Glasgow, I plugged my iphone into the car, and let loose my cheesy running playlist. I'd added new songs the night before, so I was thrilled to hear Debbie Gibson singing "Electic Youth" (feel the power, see the energy!) and I loudly sang along, as I hit the motorway. The playlist shuffled through a few other upbeat tracks, and by the time I reached Tamara's flat I was feeling pretty buoyant. We had a chat, a cuppa, and then we walked across to the start area, where we had to split up - Tamara to the pink wave, me to the green, and Del to the start line area. The green wave was originally set for anyone who thought they would finish between 60 mins and 75. When I originally signed up, I was obviously aiming for another PB this year, sub 71, but today I knew I was well off that pace. I decided to position myself about a third of the way through the wave, though, to be carried along a bit in the early stages, knowing that the route was wide enough that I could move to the side to walk without getting in anyone's way. I'd seen a few people I know to say hi to, and hopped back out of the barriers to go say hello to some of the clyderunner girls, and find Ally to wish the best (she was a pacer). I returned to my start pen, and soon realised I was stood rather close to one of the 60 minute pacers, and a bunch of ladies were jostling a wee bit to get near her. I allowed myself to be moved back a tiny bit, as we started moving slowly towards the start line. Then, it was time for our wave to start, and off I went.
Within two or three minutes, my breath was rasping and gurgling with the phlegm, and I was a bit concerned. I coughed, and carried on running, telling myself I could only stop to walk once I'd seen 10 other women walking. Thankfully by 2 mins, I'd already seen 3, so I scanned the runners ahead of me, and counted. I spotted the 10th woman walking at around 5 mins, and I slowed to a walk, coughing dreadfully as I did. There was little point feeling disheartened: I was going to cross the line, regardless of how long it took, and I was in exactly the right environment to have a slow one. This is a huge race, with women who just walk the whole thing for example, and as long as I kept doing the occasional bit of running, I'd be okay. My first mile was around 12 minutes, and I wondered if I could maintain that - my parkrun 5km efforts in 2014 suggested no, but hey, this was a different environment. I pushed on... but didn't get anywhere near that speed again, really.
I walked a lot of the first few miles, and ran sections here and there. I smiled when I could, and tried to cough without sounding revolting to those around me. There was one particular lady I kept overtaking when I was running, then she would overtake me when I walked. We played leapfrog for the entire race, though in the 5th mile I lost sight of her ahead of me, as I'd walked the whole mile at that point. I caught her up again at the end of the 6th mile, so surprised to see her at that stage I almost gasped out my shock to her. I probably just coughed instead - I'd been doing a lot of that!I made sure to overtake her and push on to the end without her passing me, which surprised me as I'm not normally 'competitive' like that in races. :-)
The sun had come out that morning, and it stayed out, burning down on us surprisingly throughout, and my fingers had swollen a lot earlier than they would normally do when I'm running. I didn't want to do the usual me-thing of beating myself up and getting down, so I focussed on other things: other people's running gear, spectators, my training plans for the future, whether my recent dyed hair was dripping bright red in the sweat, that kind of thing. The time passed... I also saw a few familiar faces during the run; John 'the Kenyan' marshaling, Zara passed by my in the race with a bit of banter, Katy was supporting with clubmated near the end after they'd finished their own runs... It was a nice day, really. I waited for Tamara to finish, and Del to find us, then we walked back to her place in a sudden crazy downpour of rain. Nicely timed... I ended up soaked through for the drive home! :-)
My time was rubbish, with an official chip time of 1:26:17 being the worst 10km time I've ever managed. I don't really care. Well, I do, in a way, but in the context of this particular run, I would be a liar if I said I was surprised. An 86 minute finish is a couple of minutes more than I thought I would get when I was halfway through the race (I passed 5km at around 41:30, slower than pretty much every 5km I've done this year) but - well, there you have it. I made it to the end, and my medal, and managed to smile about it regardless. Can't ask much more, really, under the circumstances! x x
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