The farcical false start has been well documented. I was running with Antonio when we ran into the back of a wall of shrugging Spaniards. I congratulate Simon, who had run a full 2 miles before being stopped, yet still managed to pull out a sub 1:30 from the restart. In all there were 6 PB's that day.
We Brits of course thought the whole thing hilarious. Only in Spain eh?
I am a virgin at the 10K so my official finish time of 1:08:15 is a PB. My legs had just about recovered from the previous week’s only training run and boy was I looking forward to this race? The buzz of the preparation, the nervous chatting at the start line brought back many memories of my brief marathon running career which came to a halt for no apparent reason back in 2005. The longest taper in history was over.
For me it was all about finishing, and doing so without a walk break. My woeful lack of preparation led me to doubt I could do that, but in the end, somehow, I did. My thoughts were with El Gordo for some of the race as I plodded along. He should be here; he belongs here on this weekend, and is the reason any of us are here at all - and for that, I know we are all grateful.
Almeria is a beautiful city, so permit me to direct you to Niguel’s report for a superb narrative of the place. I can’t write like that but he says all the things I would have said if I could. In addition we are lucky to have Antonio as a genial host. Nothing is too much trouble, from booking rooms to sorting menus with much more in between. Gracias friend.
Our annual pilgrimage to Molly’s on Sunday night was as ever, a raucous affair. Drinking the place dry of Guinness, my continued fight with the ciggie machine, Claire’s attempt at bar-surfing thwarted by her inability to stay upright on the bar stool (thank you to whoever caught her!) Niguel swaying from side to side muttering something about needing food. Darryl emptying his camera battery taking pictures of the ornate ceiling, talking in german to a family of Spaniards….
The following morning (late) we all met at the usual seafront ‘Café De Paris’ to plan the day. It was still raining and there was no way I was going to slide down 5 miles of mountain, so I opted instead to impress Claire with my legendary navigational skills. Armed with a town map we proceeded to get hopelessly lost! I reckon we did another 10K that day, albeit at a more leisurely pace. Great fun.
Monday night started in earnest at Molly’s
sans Guinness, yet this time Antonio had arranged to take us to
El Quinto Toro for some quite superb tapas. Marinated pork, goulash, something potatey and delicious, all washed down with lashings of good local red wine and great company. Somewhat later that evening in that very bar, Sweder, Darryl and myself indulged in a prank that can only be described as
whatever-possessed-us-to-think-that-that-would-be-a-good-idea. I humbly apologise to the good people of Almeria and just hope no photographic evidence emerges!
My ramblings are almost at an end, but I cannot go without mention of Claire’s race. Her preparation was even more inadequate than mine, consisting of one solitary run of 3.5 miles the week before. It wasn’t really therefore that much of a surprise when she decided during the week leading up to the race to pull out. Still, we did need an official photographer since Mrs Sweder couldn’t go.
I suppose female logic did play some part in her night-before
“I’ll run if it’s raining” decision, figuring that if she was going to get drenched, she may as well get drenched without getting cold! I expected her to struggle or even pull out, it even crossed my mind when I heard sirens during that race that they were heading in her direction.
I bumped into Gary at the finish where he told me that he’d seen her run into the stadium, finishing sub 1:30. Later I learnt that at around 5K she’d heard a loud crack from her left foot, and had spent the rest of the race deliberately running through large puddles to ease the increasing burning sensation in her toe. At each water station she’d taken a swig from the bottle before pouring the rest over her shoe! A truly determined and gutsy performance!
Grateful thanks to all my fellow travellers for a superb trip, Sweder and Niguel of course, but also many of whom I’d met for the first time: Ladyrunner, Gary, Gillybean, Simon, Steve, Jeremy, Terry and Hootsboy. And I finally got to meet the lovely Ana!
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