Central Coast Half Marathon:
My first clean (as in not muddy, not as in off the drugs) half marathon…
It was a spur of the moment entry, two weeks before race day, one of those ‘sod it, I’ll just enter’ moments. Long term event specific preparation was therefore out of the question; short-term training hindered by an unfortunately timed violent bug that knocked me for six in ways that do not need to be described here. (Please note, I do not recommend such an approach to an event and I will endeavour to follow my own OzSquad training plans for all future races…!)
When the alarm blasted at 4.30am on race day (a Sunday no less, usually my only potential lie in), I, and particularly Euan, did question why on earth I had thought this was a good idea. I mean, as Euan rightly pointed out between grumpy huffs and puffs at being the designated driver, I could just go for a perfectly nice 21km run up the coast from my front door. At 8am.
Stubborn as ever though, once entered there was no going back. Race day preparation went much more smoothly, a pasta breakfast eaten in the car, two pre-race toilet stops (the second literally seven minutes after the first – why does that happen??), an average welcome speech by the race director and we were off.
Everyone’s Garmin watch GPS stayed pleasantly aligned for the first 15 minutes and beeped in unison at each kilometre. The first 10 or so kilometres dropped off easily and lulled me into thinking it would all be a breeze; 12 to 15 were a hot, sweaty physical and mental struggle. Somewhere around 16km I zoned out and can’t really remember much until 20km when I wobbly headed for the inflatable finish archway as fast as my little legs would take me.
1.44 – I’ll take that. There is definitely a quicker one in me though (mainly because Dad has done a half in 1.28, and you can’t be beaten by your slightly smug Dad now can you?).
That’s the thing about running, once you start, the little competition with yourself (and your Dad) begins and you just can’t stop. So, until next time….