Panic starts to set in by Thursday. By this point I have cancelled all non essential activity and sought advice from friends, colleagues and via every social media platform and forum I could find. 'Drink Green Juice!' a good friend advised (celery, cucumber, ginger and garlic FYI), 'Lots of Water!' another suggested and 'Sleep and Eat Loads'. Thankfully, this was not difficult.
Friday night I head to bed at 8pm and by Saturday I can just about drag myself out of bed, pack my bag and get myself ready to head down to Brighton. R feeds me a lot of homemade stew and tea. Perfect combination of carbo loading and comfort food. It works its magic (that and much pleading to various deities and positive mantras, on repeat!).
Sunday morning (race day!), I'm not feeling like a zombie and manage to put my trainers on without sobbing. We wake up to the most beautiful winter sunshine over the Brighton Marina and although its pretty cold, the scenery distracts from the bite in the wind.
View from the breakfast bar in the Seattle Hotel Brighton. Spring! |
Our hotel is a 10 minute walk from the start of the race so we arrive in good time, along with 9,000 other competitors and the pre race buzz is electric. The start is a bit slow (lack of staggered starts usually has the effect I'm finding) but by 9:10 we're over the start line and building up to a good pace.
The course is fantastic, through the town centre and then looping out past the golf course, with nothing but the sea to the right and then back along the sea front. Heading past 11 miles, there were no tears (unlike the Great Scottish Run!), but come the 12th mile my feet start feeling numb and my hip was niggling badly. That and the fact that my Nike+ was claiming I'd just hit 12.5 miles (and not just 12), made getting to the finish that much harder. Fair amount of chatter post race about the course being 13.6 so the finishing times are slightly out!
Very pleased with my 2:30:01 (for the 13.1, that's a full 6 minutes faster than the GSR). That includes a 5 minute go slow, where R and I were 'deciding' whether or not I'd head off without him around the 10K mark when I wanted to up the pace and he needed to slow it down. He said go. I said no, I'd wait. Major argument ensues, much to the amusement of a Water Aid runner bumbling past us dressed as a toilet and a man dressed as a burlesque dancer.
We had discussed before the race that if either of us needed to take it slower the other should push on. But it was still really hard to actually do it. But with a likely PB to achieve, I did eventually pick up the pace (and over took the toilet). I'm sure it will be the other way around at some point.
Relief! |
Very knackered R |
But we did it! |
I very rarely spot celebrities, so here's my first paparazzi attempt. I wont give up my day job! |
The inevitable come down, from the endorphin rush after finishing the race, was eased slightly by indulging in a completely OTT Italian meal in the Brighton Marina. Guilt free! Post race meals deserve to be relished and laden with as many calories as possible. I hear a collective sigh from my nutritionist friends. Oh and there was pudding too. And then more pizza. One day I will learn.
Pana cotta @ Bella Napoli Brighton Marina |
R's chocolate profiteroles |
Back in London, I'm relishing my day off with more tea and a few ice packs for the old legs. I've already started looking into the next challenge. Paris is a bit soon, so thinking it may have to be further afield. Any suggestions very welcome!
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