Quotes from EG’s “May” post
http://www.runningcommentary.net/forum/s...#post13952
“Beware the urge to post 'little and often' ” - 'lazy running, lazy writing'.
Bugger, I’m guilty on both counts. Please don’t expect anything of literary merit in any of my posts or you’ll be sorely disappointed, I’m only trying to make sense of some of my running/life by recording a fragment.
A bright clear day with a chill wind. Parked alongside the Royal Northern College of Music. Wandered up Oxford Road, Mr SW teasing me about being just a Fun Runner as I was issued a white number, ie second wave, his was orange, first wave (naturally), however as we planned to go round together he fell back to start with the white lot, he had only been issued with that number because he was in the team from work and no one had entered an estimated finish time for him. There were 2 more waves after us, a total of 31,000 approx.
I was freezing cold between the bulky Victorian buildings, so we headed towards a patch of sunshine at the cross roads of Portland street and Princess street in the white start area. Packed in like sardines, it wasn’t boding well. Had to endure some bloke shouting warm up instructions, (aerobic classes always make me giggle) followed by a bit of hanging around while someone else said something incomprehensible over the PA. Eventually we were heading to the start as signalled by Dennis Law.
We had positioned ourselves a fair way back close to the pavement , I was expecting a rough start. Proved to be too rough, about 500 yards in, a particularly bulky bloke dodged past us and cut straight in front of Mr SW who was mid stride, felled him completely even though he is weighing in at a 14 stone odd at the moment. Mr SW did an impressive roll on to the pavement at the feet of shocked spectators. After scooping him up and checking for injuries - he had a cut thumb, grazed knees and an ankle bashed by the curb – I handed him a tissue to mop up the gore and he decided he was OK to continue. Needless to say the git who had knocked him over didn’t stop, in fact he probably didn’t hear the abuse shouted at him as he had headphones on. Stepped up the pace a bit , Mr SW’s aim was for a sub 1hour but we had lost a bit of time because of his fall.
There were so many people running it was impossible to hold a steady pace. I was being constantly jostled, one bloke bashed my elbow very hard with some portable device he was wearing on his arm. ( Interestingly most of the people bashing past us were wearing iPods etc.) One of the main problems with this race is just the volume of people, so many of them have probably never entered a race before and have no idea of race etiquette, they chuck down space blankets and bin bags all across the road at the start for people to slip on, they dump water bottles as they run instead of taking them to the side and take no account of the safety of their fellow runners as they barge past intent on beating the one in front, I mean come on, this is a 10k mostly done for charity, no one is competing for an Olympic medal.
We toddled on out to Old Trafford. High spot of the day was at the half way point when the course entered the entrance tunnel that encircles the Theatre of Dreams. I immediately started chanting “Un-TED”, to be greeted by a groan from behind when a few poor creatures started with a City chant, I retaliated with a shout of 8-1 at which point they shut up! Mr SW ignored my banter.
I was beginning to feel a bit stretched, not tired, but no cadence and a bit of a stitch, probably just because the volume of people made it impossible to settle into any rhythm. I plodded on, but by mile 5 ish, I was feeling a bit disconsolate, no other way to describe it, I just didn’t want to be doing this any more. Mr SW was still going well but then I lost him, Some runners had cut in front of me and separated us, I just couldn’t see him any more.
Nothing for it I just trudged on, but there would be no negative split for me. I didn’t resort to walking, that would have been plain silly, but I admit I felt like it. I did what I normally do in these situations, I started counting my strides, one digit for every left footfall, up to 100 and then I start again. The finish was eventually reached. No fanfare, no big deal except for a nice hug from Mr SW who had waited at the line for me. Lot’s of celebs being interviewed. Queued up to get rid of the timing chip, queued up to get water and a goody bag containing an OK tee shirt, huge medal, a lot of waste paper but nothing to eat except some grainy/ nutty bits with chilli, not very palatable after a run. For once my Garmin and the chip time coincided - 1hour 1 minute and 3 seconds, however the distance measured was 10.2
Well, I suppose that confirms it, I won’t be competing in the 10,000m in Bejing:-( but Mr SW got his sub 1hour coming in at 59 minutes and 43 seconds – Hoorah!!
Next 10k is 6th July, however, we may be on holiday then, so I suppose I must find another to enter soon.
Great (?) Manchester 10K
Sounds like you'd have knocked a few minutes off that time with a bit more space to run.
