What a weekend! This could turn into a rambling saga, but I will try and precis it. We arrived on Friday evening, which meant I at least had one fairly decent night's sleep before the big day. Saturday was spent largely registering and being force-fed carbs by Ironson. I was in bed by 10pm with number pinned on shirt, chip laced through shoe and all kit laid out. But predictably, I couldn't sleep. Half hour snatches were all I managed until the designated rising time of 6.30. I did feel much much calmer than before my only other big race (the Bath Half marathon in March, before which I was a gibbering wreck). So the hypnotherapy was worth it. A quick slurp of disgusting instant porridge and half a banana and Ironson was escorting me through the Berlin subway to the start. We met a lovely English girl on the train who took me under her wing and promised Matthew she's look after me once we got inside the competitors only pen-this she did -even helped me find the right tent for my drop off bag before we had to part (she, needless to say was not in my pen which was for first timers and really slow people). It was pleasantly warm so the hour long wait before our pen shuffled to the start wasn't too much of an ordeal. I sat on the kerb wrapped in a plastic sheet put myself in the 'pleasant place' my hypnotherapist had advised and strove not to compare myself unfavourably with all the fit young people around me.
And then we were off, and as soon as we started jogging, I felt comfortable and confident. I never for a moment doubted I was going to finish, and I did my very best to enjoy the fantastic atmosphere and support along the way. Once the crowds thinned out as the faster people streamed ahead, it was much easier for me to do my walk breaks without getting in people's way (I did Galloway 90:30 ratio) It also meant people could cheer on individuals and every few hundred metres I would hear. "BRAVO Pamela' usually coming from women of around my age, which was great. In my head I had planned to think of it as two ten mile races and then a 10K, so that the distance in front of me didn't seem too enormous. The first 10miles were really lovely and I felt so strong at the end that I had no doubt I would complete the next one. My Garmin tells the story that I gradually slowed down over the second 'race' but I didn't feel tired, and the knowledge that every few miles my lovely family would pop up and cheer me on (after incredibly well-organised subway journeys) was a carrot dangling in front of me.I was also very conscious of all you lovely forumites willing me on (I had no idea some of you were actually tracking me on the App) At 35K Matt appeared on the pavement and yelled, 'you're on target, you can do this,' which meant I was on target for a sub 6 hours which would give me a Good for Age automatic entry to the London 2018 marathon, So exciting! And then, precisely at the 36K mark I felt a sudden pain in both hips and every step became agony. Oh no! Mr Smudge's dreadful predictions had come true! He was right after all! Running IS bad for your joints! I stumbled on. But my steps were becoming shorter and shorter and after my next walk break I found I could hardly lift my legs to jog on. And when I did, I seriously thought my legs might give way. What if I had stress fractures of the hips?What if the next run was going to be the final straw and they would shatter into a hundred pieces? I decided to carry on anyway. But from then on, most of it was walk. And other walking people were passing me! I was so cross, so angry. How dare my body do this to me? Then with 1K to go, Ironson appeared on the pavement beside me and ran alongside encouraging me like a rowing coach on a towpath. 'Turn your bleeper off and just run now ' he said 'the Brandenburg gate is around the corner' So I threw my Gymboss to him and went for it. Quite how my legs did it I don't know and it wasnt pretty , but I was not going to suffer the ignomony of walking through the Brandenburg Gate. The photo proofs show me hunched and waddling , iike Mrs Overall from Acorn Antiques , but nonetheless NOT WALKING! I thought I would cry at this moment but in fact it was more of a groan, though I did manage to raise my hands for a victory photograph. The actual finish is 200 metres beyond the gates and it seemed a very very long way,.But finally I was there and it was over. A young lady hung the amazing bling around my neck and grinning like an imbecile I staggered to collect my drop bag and head towards the family reunion park.
Except I didn't! Suddenly my chest tightened and I found myself struggling for breath. The last time this had happened was after the Bath half marathon and I had thought it was a one-off and due to me having a bad cold. But no; the medic who approached me recognised I was having an asthma attack and shepherded me once again into the first aid tent. Not to worry. Twenty minutes with an oxygen mask (and advice to use my preventative inhaler next time) put me right and I was able to scoot outside and finally locate my family, who were on their third beer by this point. And that was it really. I am left with a warm afterglow, from what was, for the most part a truly brilliant experience. I also have a strong desire to do it again and to get it right next time. I have been very lazy about cross-training and that was my downfall . Ironson says it was the muscles, rather than the joints that let me down (and sure enough the hips feel fine today) and I also went out rather too fast, though it didn't feel that way. So. More Pilates and get my asthma regime sorted. Then I'll be back.
Off to get the tattoo now! Thanks all xxxxxx
xxx
Smudge can stick his/her opinion where the sun don't shine. Now I'm off to snivel proud tears into my lentil soup. HUGS xxx PS. Wanted to read this earlier but for some reason couldn't open the page. 
Fell over quite spectacularly into mud during my long run this morning! 
Quiet member, tortoise-like runner, but I completed the Royal Parks HM - thank you everyone
Race report - Eastbourne Half
First half marathon completed
