Yesterday saw me getting up at an unreasonable hour (OK, it was about 7:30am) to eat breakfast with plenty of time for it to digest before dun dun dunnnn… my first proper “race”.
I entered the Market Drayton 10k some time last year. I hadn’t even remembered doing so until I went to register *this* year and it told me I was already in. The plan was to do some proper training runs before race day because one of my fitness goals for this year is to run a (recorded) <1 hour 10k. I’m fairly sure I’ve done it unofficially, but given that my phone GPS failed to pick up a signal for the entire race on Sunday, I can’t rely on its accuracy (or lack thereof)
So anyway… Sunday morning came around pretty fast; had done no training runs, not even a short run in the week or so prior, stomach was wibbly and I thought I was going to poop myself, and I’m mid-period. I was looking forward to the run but fairly certain I wasn’t going to get even close to an hour, let alone under it. I’d set my goal to 1 hour 10—1 hour 15.
I can’t be sure (thanks to my phone/Strava not picking up a GPS signal) but I am fairly sure I started out too quickly. I figured I’d be walking by 7km but kept up the pace anyway, including sprinting up 2 hills along the route. I managed to catch up with a running buddy from Broseley Joggers who I knew was likely to finish at 1hr or less and kept pace with her til right need the end when I was seriously flagging. Finish line in sight, I was practically grunting my way along the last couple of hundred metres when a random lady came up behind me and said “You’ve got this”. I tell you what, I needed that. And she’s right, I totally had it. I used that little burst of motivation to do an epic sprint finish, postively flying across the finish line.
Official time (corrected): 1 hour 1 minute and 32 seconds.