Garstang 10k road race

"What does the W stand for?"

Mile 3, just getting into my stride when the conversation struck up. Hastily (yet politely) exited the breathy conflab by pushing forward.

Legs still feeling comfortable. Passing runners by fairly effortlessly. Beginning to wonder whether I can't feel the pain because my legs have been numbed by the cold, or maybe they just run slowly down south.
Mile 4. Beginning to draw on rudimentary mathematical skills to work out how many kilometers left to the end. Calculations not helped by route apparently following figures of 8, 3 and 2 along country lanes, occasionally made interesting by twists, turns and little Postman Pat style bridges.

Sometime later, wee lad all elbows and over-sized feet and weaving about 3 inches in front, spurts forward. Beginning to prepare fast-twitchers for final push- but only hedgerows in sight, no Garstang village, waiting mother, Sunday crossword or car ride home.

End of hedgerow. Slapping feet. Gasping. Rasping. All getting a bit exciting. Turning corner- finish funnel ribboned in orange, gurning appropriately for expectant crowds. Finished. 41.28. Pants. Not again. Must buy a watch.

Posted by Ellie Homewood on Wed 3 Feb 2010 | 1 comment

Category road race