After an optimistic BBQ Stakes run, I slept heavily and in the hour before noon I was out of bed, only managed to dress myself in a strange but colourful collection of cycling clothes to wear on a gentle roll in this fine weather.
However, before I could get out the door, I was overcome with an encompassing fatigue, and it was all I could do to crawl into bed, clad in arm and leg warmers, socks and knicks and grab some sleep. There endeth the exercise for the day.
Customs today was different; my handicap had been eased to an achievable 7:15. The PRB turned up for a run, his first Customs event, and left with me. His calf gave grief at the 1km mark, and I went ahead to test myself. My breathing was audible as I passed a couple of SpeedyGeoff Geese, but for a change I could talk to them as I wheezed passed.
I kept going. I turned the Willow Tree at around 13:30. Although unsure of my recent splits, I felt good and on track for a satisfying run. Many runners including Bob left early in preparation for the Bush Capital Runs tomorrow. From the 3k mark on, I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see if Bob was going to overtake me. A strange thing was happening though as I kept going ~ as the mobs of backmarkers headed towards me on the out-and-back course, I was increasingly able to return to my greeting of them by name. The last month or so has generally seen me attempt to grunt out a muffled gurgle at best. My eyes were working - it wasn't a blotchy dark mass in front of me, with little peripheral vision. Over the last kilometre I didn't think that anyone was in front of me on handicap, but couldn't be sure. The was quite a deal of lunchtime traffic on the unsealed section around Regatta Point, and by this stage I was furiously checking over my shoulder for Bob, spurred on by Ricky's call to me to stay in front as I huffed past. Up the dark, cobbled track, I could see a white T-shirted runner or two gaining on me fast. Both were wearing caps and I was anxious to stay in front. Around the Pavilion, Trevor, new to Customs, but seen around the traps, passed me and sprinted to the finish for first place. I tried to maintain the pace on the soggy surface and held off Bob at the finish. Better yet, I felt better during the run than I had for ages; it turns out that I did 27:18 and I'm pleased. I am genuinely at the place now
That the time and pace is of little importance, how I felt and pull up says it all. How long this lasts I have no idea!
However, before I could get out the door, I was overcome with an encompassing fatigue, and it was all I could do to crawl into bed, clad in arm and leg warmers, socks and knicks and grab some sleep. There endeth the exercise for the day.
Customs today was different; my handicap had been eased to an achievable 7:15. The PRB turned up for a run, his first Customs event, and left with me. His calf gave grief at the 1km mark, and I went ahead to test myself. My breathing was audible as I passed a couple of SpeedyGeoff Geese, but for a change I could talk to them as I wheezed passed.
I kept going. I turned the Willow Tree at around 13:30. Although unsure of my recent splits, I felt good and on track for a satisfying run. Many runners including Bob left early in preparation for the Bush Capital Runs tomorrow. From the 3k mark on, I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see if Bob was going to overtake me. A strange thing was happening though as I kept going ~ as the mobs of backmarkers headed towards me on the out-and-back course, I was increasingly able to return to my greeting of them by name. The last month or so has generally seen me attempt to grunt out a muffled gurgle at best. My eyes were working - it wasn't a blotchy dark mass in front of me, with little peripheral vision. Over the last kilometre I didn't think that anyone was in front of me on handicap, but couldn't be sure. The was quite a deal of lunchtime traffic on the unsealed section around Regatta Point, and by this stage I was furiously checking over my shoulder for Bob, spurred on by Ricky's call to me to stay in front as I huffed past. Up the dark, cobbled track, I could see a white T-shirted runner or two gaining on me fast. Both were wearing caps and I was anxious to stay in front. Around the Pavilion, Trevor, new to Customs, but seen around the traps, passed me and sprinted to the finish for first place. I tried to maintain the pace on the soggy surface and held off Bob at the finish. Better yet, I felt better during the run than I had for ages; it turns out that I did 27:18 and I'm pleased. I am genuinely at the place now
That the time and pace is of little importance, how I felt and pull up says it all. How long this lasts I have no idea!
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