Now as regulars to this parish will attest I haven’t had cause to write a race-reportette for some while now.
Still, for what it’s worth here it is…
23 degrees said the gauge on the car as I drove down to the start line. I dunno what that is in gallons, but it was certainly set to be hot, hot hot.
I met up with Sweder at the rugby club some 200 yards from the start line, and finally got to meet many of his Jog Shop Jog mates, gym associates and various assortment of god-botherers. Feeling ever so slightly out of place surrounded by all these runners I hastily snapped a group pic and sloped away as the athletes made their way to the start line (no I didn’t get a cab there).
Positioning myself some 200 yards past the start line I waited until they passed, before meeting up with Captain Tom (whose wife Sue had also entered), and deciding on a plan of action. Nothing much to do until the race wound back to Seaford, so in true tradition we found a café in town and demolished a huge fry-up.
I decided to take Tom up to the top of the cliff. This would be around mile 11-12, and at the summit of a gruelling concrete road. Now I must confess I’d found this particular road pretty easy. I used to run from home, up this hill, around the town and back home. What I’d never done however was to run 11 hilly, sweat-laden miles AND THEN run up it.
There was a woefully inadequately-manned water station at the summit, and whilst chatting to the Seaford Lions personnel I must have inadvertently offered my services as I spent the next 40 minutes handing out water to the leaders. Tom meanwhile got the lob-wedge from the car and started practicing his chipping on the nearby grass.
First to ascend was Rog (how apt) and his running partner. As he stopped for a drink and a quick photo, we chatted about my chequered running career which bizarrely he seemed to know a fair bit about. He asked why I wasn’t running – bless him. Too unfit I stammered. Now I don’t suppose Rog remembers and I sincerely hope Him upstairs wasn’t listening – but I think I agreed to enter next year! Shh…
From those I managed to capture in all their glory next up the hill plodded Moyleman followed around 10 minutes later by Sweder, interestingly both looking shagged and determined in equal measure.
I stayed until Sue passed. She looked to be struggling and was walking by then, yet she still finished.
Well done to all who entered, respect to everyone who finished. It was a blistering day.
And next year? That one’s in the hands of MLC Man.