So. Yesterday was the big day. The Brighton Half Marathon. It was cold, drizzly and windy, possibly my worst combo of weather conditions (I know many of you are hardcore types who enjoy running in a blizzard, uphill wearing lead underpants, but I'm a fair weather plodder). Anyway, II was undeterred and shivered on the start line. Well, I say start line. I was in the "must try harder" category which meant I was so far back from the start, it took a full 10 mins to cross it once the race had started. No matter. I ran the first 5 miles with not too much effort - that despite a hill (incline for most, hill to me) but the wind and drizzle took their toll. I confess I did walk about 3 miles of the 13 (on and off) but, in the end, my time was only 10 mins slower than had I run it all. This tells us two things. One, I must have run the first 5 miles at a rapid pace and, two, I can walk almost as fast as j run.
MM had assured me that there were lots of kind folk along the route who gave away sweets, orange segments and other delicious sugary treats to keep you going. Dear reader, I have to tell you that in 13 miles I had the sum total of two Haribo sweets. Two. Now I'm assuming this was because all the gazelles in the advanced running group had snaffled them all, leaving nothing for the many alsorans. So, in short, I did the race on 2 tiny sweets and half a bottle of rancid energy drink (why are they SO strong? They make me twice as thirsty and my teeth itch).
Anyway, it's done and I'm chuffed. My daughter (18 and nonplussed by anything I so or say) picked up the medal and said "can I have this when you're dead? Finally something you can hand down to me". If that's not an incentive to do a half marathon, I don't know what is....