One week ago I was not laughing. I was scuffing the soles of my trainers and listening to the slop of my stomach contents as I walked away from my first 10km of 2010.
I had been excited. The Nigel Barge memorial race was to be my first opportunity to show the benefits of the training I’ve been doing since January. I was sure that I would break my previous 10km time of 56mins. I was pumped.
On Friday evening, 20hours before the race, I ventured to the pub and restained my alcohol intake to a half pint of Guiness quite sensible behaviour I thought. Heading home at 7.30pm I trundled myself into M&S to raid the reduced selection of goodies. I was filled with glee as I scooped up a 3 course dinner for 2 days and lunch for under £10! I was loving my genius and had a lovely relaxed evening in front of the tv with my supplies.
The following day, the 10km started at 2pm. I thought it wise to chomp down some lunch in preparation for my race. Run out of energy? No, not me, I’m going to have 3 sandwiches and a slice of toffee cake 90mins beforehand. Bad move. Too much, too close to the race.
I cycled up to the start and signed in, at this point still convinced I was destined for a PB. Once I had pinned on my number I began my warm-up jog. Slop-slop, slop-slop. As I increase the pace, slop-sloppity-slop. I knew I could do nothing about my bulging tummy and resolved to press on with my mission.
My God. I had no idea how uncomfortable I would feel. The heavy viscous weight inside me placed me between hurlation and severe discomfort. The technicoloured yawn failed to appear and so the only way to stop the awkward pain was to stop running. I extremely annoyed and felt very stupid. But d’you know, I would’ve have felt better if I had been sick. I would have been able to finish the race and I would’ve felt as though I tried rather than aborting a race … because I ate too much!?! I find this a smidge comical.
One week and one day later, I was off to Dunbar with my folks for a second attempt at a 10k. I had my game face on this time and there was no erratic eating prior to this event. I was comfortable throughout the race and perhaps could have afforded to push myself harder.
My favourite part of the race was reaching the halfway point which was placed at the top of the route’s highest climb. After this followed a glorious couple of k slowly dropping down towards Dunbar. The finish line was situated at the end of a single-track through a wooded area and was out of sight until the last moment so I didn’t really get to power up to my sprint finish (well I managed about 5 strides). And my time? … 52mins 50secs. I was delighted. That’s over 3mins faster than my first 10km. I am sure, and now determined, that I can achieve a sub 50min 10km by the end of the year.
One Comment
Sorry to hear of your bad experience. I had one recently myself, and it is awful. Way to go with the 2nd race. Very amusing post.
Happy running,
Rundad