It was my turn to rock-up to my first PR yesterday. The weather was glorious and the course as flat as the proverbial food stuff; the course officials went over the safety brief and the course route. All was well, I had done a warm-up walk and run and I felt happy.
We all lined up and waited...the started sounded his whistle and off we went across the grass and down the path. Somewhere up ahead the 27 minute pace setter was trotting along in his hi vis bib. I slotted in to mid-field and was happy to watch the hares charge off into the distance, and to glance backward at the mix of runners behind ~ some younger, some older; some fatter, some thinner...then I felt it. Something I have not felt for many years [no, not that] and I reached down and held my right knee. The Lateral Collateral Ligament was hurting. I gave my knee a bit of a jar jumping a stream on Dartmoor last weekend, and it wasn't happy with running on the tarmac. Very sensibly I sat down of a convenient bench and then hobbled back to the start from the 1 to 1.5K mark I was at. As I neared the 'finish line' I heard some loud foot-falls and heavy breathing from behind as the lead runner came thundering past...
Maybe in a few weeks I too shall make it the the end...but only if I stop jumping streams and landing awkwardly...