Go!

Okay, so it’s Sunday night – the Sunday night after my first event and what can I say about it, really? Well, the bare facts of the matter are this:

I came 1,235th overall in the race. I was the 459th woman to finish the race. I was 214th in my age group and 71st in my age and gender group. I ran the three miles in 31 minutes and 27 seconds. In short, I was crap.

I can recognise this stark fact, truthfully and honestly to myself, and still say it was the most fantastic experience ever. I just loved it. I loved everything about it. I loved getting reading for the race and putting on all my running gear (which, I have to admit, looked a tad shabby compared to all the other competitors’ gear), but then they’re all serious runners and I’m just an amateur. I loved the walk through Edinburgh, which has got to be one of the most attractive cities in the UK to take a walk through (although I have to say I wouldn’t like to live there – it would be too much like living in a wind tunnel – no offence intended to Edinburgh residents there, but I’ve never experienced a howling gail quite like the one that was howling through Princes Street shortly after the run). I loved the organised chaos factor in finding the start line in the first place (apparently this had been clearly marked but then the organisers had been forced to remove the signs as there was an imminent peril that these markers were going to blow away) and I loved chatting to the other runners about just where it was we were supposed to be. I loved chatting to the other runners when I did eventually find the start line – meeting up with people from all over the country (the lady next to me had come from Dundee; the couple behind me, who took a great interest in my t-shirt and all the events I was intending to participate in – mainly because they’d already done them about a million times, it seems - had come all the way from London); and all just to run three miles around a freezing park. I loved the excitement of the start when the celebrity (sorry, I didn’t recognise the poor sod who’d been drafted in to start the event – and I didn’t catch the tannoy announcement either telling everyone just which poor sod it was – so I really am none the wiser there) and I loved running up the hill (Yes! Running! I might be crap, but I still ran every step of that hill) and I loved the view from the top which really wasn’t much of a view because of the grey weather and I loved (loved, loved) the finish line.

I didn’t even find the event that hard, although I suspect that when I start doing the 10k races, it’s going to be harder for me. I could certainly feel able to enjoy a momentary sense of smugness about the fact that I wasn’t bent double and crawling on my hands and knees over the finish line – although this was only very fleeting. It really only lasted the time it took me to find out my overall finishing position...

But never mind that... In short, it was a fantastic experience and a fantastic weekend. I went up there with my sister and we stayed in a nice hotel and ate some lovely meals (I can really recommend Wok and Wine on Frederick Street if ever you are in the area. Really good food in a nice atmosphere). I mean, really, I just had a wonderful time. In fact, I have to say, I’m enjoying all of this fundraising lark just a bit too much. I almost feel guilty about it.

And I suppose I should do really. On the Friday before I left I posted a message on my Facebook account reading “Valerie is running the Great Winter Run tomorrow – wish me luck” and my husband posted the following comment in response: “Never mind good luck – I’ve got a whole weekend with the kids while you’re out having a nice time running around Scotland...” Poor old lad. I hardly dare mention the next event: The Great Edinburgh Run where I’ll be off up to Scotland again (although probably for just one night this time – I can’t stand the guilt) and enjoying myself some more. And do I really need to tell him that I was 1,504th in a queue of people entering the Great Manchester Run the other day, but despite this alarming amount of people in front of me and the fact that it didn’t even look like I was going to get a place at one point (when the computer timed out and I had to go right to the back of the queue again, by which time it was even longer – reader, you can’t even imagine the swear words which came out of my mouth at that point in time – even if you’ve got the best, most vivid imagination in the world, you really can’t) I did, eventually, manage to get a place – and what this means for him in real terms is another day looking after the kids while I go off and enjoy myself with 33,000 other runners (I sincerely hope they get the start line thing organised there – I could barely find where I should stand in a crowd of 2,000, never mind 33,000). Yes, perhaps on the whole, I just won’t mention it... I’ll mention it later... When he’s in a good mood again – and the memory of a whole weekend on his own with the kids has faded somewhat.

On the fundraising front, I was sponsored a further £20 this weekend. Okay, not groundbreaking amounts but everything helps. I’ll be adding that onto my justgiving page soon. Plus my lovely friend, Chet, who helps to run a print company has organised some publicity postcards to be printed about the money I’m trying to raise for the Weston Park Hospital. The service her company “Loudmouth Studios Ltd” (the eco-friendly postcard company – check them out at http://www.loudworld.co.uk) has provided is worth in the region of £100 so I’ll be posting that amount on the just giving site too, to reflect their generous support. With regards to my boss: they say they want to help with matched funding but they need to get permission from their charitable committee first. I need to wait until March to find out the result of that one. Let’s hope it’s good news. In the meantime, I’ve now got around four months between now and the next event (so don’t worry, Martin, I don’t have any excuses to go off and leave you with the kids again – well, at least for a while...) So it’s back to the training... And I’d better start practising over those longer distances if I’m going to be able to feel momentarily smug about not collapsing after the next race. At least the next event will provide me with a good excuse to visit Edinburgh again and being as the next one’s in May, maybe it won’t be so windy next time...? But, then again, this is Scotland we are talking about here...