I was going to be at a bit of a loose end last weekend. A number of family asked the loaded question 'What have you got planned this weekend, then?'...I was supposed to be doing a bit of insulation and cladding in the wee utility room, but I drilled through a water pipe a month ago; had to get the plumber out. He turned up after 36 hours. I never recovered from the trauma, so the project has tip-toed on at a slugs pace.
The forecast was good for the weekend, and, on the Saturday morning, I was drawn to the local Parkrun. Its around the river and only down the hill from me.
I have a recent history of using the Parkrun as a training run. I sometimes start with the crowd. On occasion, Ive joined in randomly and confused both the marshals and the runners. All good stuff. On this particular morning I did 2 miles and peeled off. Neil M was behind me using me as a pacemaker, I could hear him gently rasping the rhythm of a vet, behind me. But the 2 mile mark arrived and off I walked and left them all to it. I had bigger fish to fry, bigger bells to ring. Yes indeed. I had an entry for the Cowbell 5k at lunchtime. It's organised by Newcastle University and is held on the Town Moor.
I walked back home and, at 10am, sat down to a plate of carrot soup - I find I run well on soup - although, not lentil soup - I presume something to do with the pulse (rate - get it!). I read the paper for a wee bit, then rounded up my trainers and vest.
The 20 minute trip into Newcastle Central was easy enough. They have replaced all the parking meters now with 'flash your card' types and the parking charges have been ramped up accordingly.
I jogged to the Uni. sports hall and got my number, then jogged up to the park. The crowd was pretty modest, and after a stretch and warm up, I counted about 80 or so starters. It was £11 to enter, so it couldn't have been the cost that put folk off.
A few club mates were running and LR said she was aiming for a sub 19, which, if delivered, would be a P.B. It was a good day on a flat course, and she had TI in attendance as a pacer. I had a thought of jumping on this PB wagon and hanging on, but a wee dose of reality said 'don't be a numpty' - you'll be doing well to go sub20'.
We were counted down and off we went. I never saw them again, as they rattled off the front and into the distance. Instead, I put my head down and puffed my way around the course, having that continuous conversation in my head trying to keep the pace going and, all the while, distracting yourself from the absolute discomfort of being on the edge, all those old organs shuggling along and trying to squeeze out a convincing tune on an old body. Squeezebox.
I hung on, feeling pretty reasonable halfway round, but by 4k my pace began to slow and I had to dig deep. 'Its only 2 laps round the track' came the voice..'Don't let him go'...said the voice.....' open your stride, its the same effort'...went the rhetoric. I managed to cross the line in 19.29. Fine. Sub 20 right enough. It took me a couple of minutes lying on the pavement to get my breath back. Old slapper.
There were celebrations by the tent - LR had managed a low 18 minutes, quite comfortably inside her P.B. I came away with a warm glow that I'd equaled my S.B. from last year. I immersed myself in a short half an hour buying spree, a positive retail frenzy of new jeans and hoodie in the Toon. It was super busy, but its good to be good to yourself.
This weekends extravaganza is the Balbirnie Trial Race - quite a different event. Should be a laugh. Needless to say, no DIY was done that day.
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