2015 Lindfield 10km Fun Run Race Report
Steady rain had started falling the previous evening, and with a high probability of rain forecast for race day, I had gone to bed looking at the likelihood of a wet race, or possibly even no race at all. However dawn was cool and dry with little to no sign of rain and so we headed to the course expecting a good outing. I say 'we' because also running again this year was my sister-in-law Carol who also gave me a lift to the course and hosted Mrs MLCMM and I for breakfast afterwards. Arriving in good time and it being still quite cool we sat in her Lexus for a while* discussing race plans, future running goals and general chit chat about running, she resplendent in her elite race number 30 (although she was at pains to point out that she only received such a great number because she registered very early), and I in my cool number '111', not the lowest race number I've ever had (that was 106 for a race way back in 2004) but one which now looks great on my man-cave wall. Soon though it was time to head to the starting line and so we parted ways and took our respective places in the pack - she nearer the front (being the better runner) and myself in my rightful place at the very back.
My race plan was again quite simple. Given the shallowness of my training for this race my intention was to treat it as another training run and just run this at a normal training pace. Despite being a
fun run this is a
brute of a course, comprising two laps of a 5km circuit with each lap containing two brutal hills and three or so lesser ones. This is not a race for the faint-hearted nor for someone running a 10km event for the first time.
Starting at the back was of course eminently sensible. Unlike the last time I ran this race when I regrettably started at the front and was pushed out way too fast, this time I ran a gentle, consistent training pace the whole way. That said, the hills were still very punishing. None of them were easy and at the end of the first lap, the thought of doing it all again was almost enough to make me chuck in the towel and scuttle off home.
I didn't scuttle off home of course, and perhaps for the first time (this being my third running of the event) I found all the hills still brutal but with a vague familiarity which made them slightly more manageable. As well as managing my pace quite well, I also focused well on the task at hand (all too frequently the attention of that focus being the damned hills) and plodded on OK even when it was rough going. This is also the first time I've run this race and not spoken with any of the other runners or marshals. Usually there's a fair amount of banter - the usual jokes about hills and 'when do we get to the fun bit?' kind of thing, but this year I refrained completely.
And the result? Actually, not too bad. I was thinking something around 65 minutes would be acceptable, but came home in just shy of 63 and a half minutes.
And as I've done after each of these events previously, at the end I swore 'never again'. If you're going to bust your lungs open on brutish hills that's all well and good out in the country with some magnificent scenery and pristine mountain air, but around suburban streets it's more than just a little insane. That said, as we munched on scrambled eggs and bacon and mugs of steaming coffee afterwards, Carol and I both agreed that for reasons we can't begin to explain to ourselves, let alone anyone else, we'll probably line up and do it all again next year.
The lunacy of running is strong with this one.
*
Which made me think of EG of course ... hi EG!
April showers.
