Into the unknown

The Simple Chick rolled her eyes in exasperation as I said, for about the 2865th time, 'Maybe I should go to the toilet again?'. She held up her right hand, thumb tucked in and her four fingers spread apart, 'Four times you've been, four! And you haven't even drunk anything since 7!'.

Feeling very apprehensive

It was 9 am on a Sunday morning and I was lining up for my first proper competitive race. And I was bricking it. 

With my number pinned on, standing in the Green holding pen, I had no idea what to expect. My training had been (and still is) focused on my trail race in mid August, not tailored for a fast, flat road race along the straight roads of Leeds. And it was warmer than expected. The mizzle and cool weather anticipated, replaced by the sunny spells and high humidity which characterise the British summer. 

Although, ever since signing up, I have had a target time lurking at the back of my mind, I was not sure it was achievable and the last thing I wanted to do was to burn out after 4 or 5 km. So for once in my life, I thought I would be kind to myself and set my pace alarm for 5:55 min/km, with my main aim to come in at under an hour - anything else I would regard as a bonus. This was, after all, my first attempt at a 10K and I really had no idea how I would perform. But me being me, I also wrote all the splits for 5:50 min/km on my hand, just in case...

Shy and reserved in everyday life, I am at heart, fiercely competitive and I had elbowed my way to the front of the green group (people running an hour or over) to ensure a good start. Flying out of the blocks, I was plagued by stiff and sore quads but there was nothing to do but keep running, my carefully created drum and bass playlist pounding in my ears and driving me on. At times people coming to a halt in my path was frustrating and there were the obvious bottlenecks at the water stations, but in the main, the event was extremely well organised, with the wide roads allowing me to run at a speed of my choice.

And so, that's what I did, I just let myself run. Occasionally the pace alarm vibrated but I told myself that getting round was more important than anything else. Kilometre 5 to 6 up Kirkstall Road was a real grind and the final couple of kilometres really unpleasant in the heat of the sun. A small uphill section, followed by a narrowing into the final straight, killed my speed a little, but again, I forced my way through the bodies and ran as hard as I could towards the line, hitting stop on my watch as I sprinted under the white and blue gantry.

Charging for the line

Crossing the finish line (if you can spot me!)

After picking up my goodie bag, as we funnelled out of the finish area, I found the Simple Chick on the steps of the Art Gallery. A text message had already arrived to tell me my result - 56:59. Having donned the finishers t-shirt and put on my medal, we set off in search of coffee and cake to celebrate. Not only had I smashed my 59:10 target, I had actually achieved the unachievable and unspoken aim of 57'. I really couldn't believe it.

Feeling, to adopt Mark Cavendish parlance, 'super happy' as I tucked into some strawberry gateau, I couldn't help but feel that I had had a very good start to my 35th birthday celebrations.

Birthday cake number one

Birthday cake number two - made by the Simple Chick using the colours my climbing gear is taped in!