Fifteen Miles of Misery

So, as you may have gathered from the last post, I really didn't want to go and run the Three Lakes Classic. It was worrying me for a number of reasons. In brief:

a) The event was organised by an athletics club and I was basically worried that I was going to be outclassed by all of the other runners there.
b) The map provided looked like it had been drawn by a bloke down the pub (probably after a few beers) and I was seriously worried about my ability (given my proven poor map-reading skills) to follow it.
c) Fifteen miles is a long way. It's particularly a long way to run if you've got a dodgy knee.
d) (Selfish reason), but here it is anyway - it's Father's Day today and I quite wanted to spend it with my husband and the kids and perhaps my own Dad (who, incidentally, had chosen to spend his day having a very nice Sunday lunch out). Shallow reason I know, but it all sounded much more tempting than running fifteen miles.

Anyway, in short, I didn't want to go. But I DID go. Yes, I went to bed early last night (no alcohol before a big event, etc) and I got up early this morning and got ready and drove for an hour to the venue and turned up and signed in and got my number and had all - yes, that's ALL - of my worst fears realised.

Not only was I horrendously outclassed by every other person there (bar one - who, I suspect, under normal circumstances would have horrendously outclassed me - but she was ill, thus permitting me to beat her by a good 2 minutes - although hats off to the fact that she finished at all - I was thinking about jacking it all in and going home at some point before the first marshall and I wasn't ill); I also got lost (twice); and felt every single knee-jarring step of that sodding fifteen miles. In short, it was fifteen miles of Hell. I know I performed poorly, because at some point during the last three miles, the first aider chose to run with me and make sure I got back alright (I told him I was OK, just incredibly slow). It took me nearly three hours to run it. Well, I say run. I walked quite a lot of it due to the knee and also, I've got to admit, my motivation just not being there. It had gone out to lunch. Perhaps with my Dad. Where I would rather have been.

But anyway, I've done it. Yes I am now 15 miles nearer to the 100 I promised to run. I have, in fact, now run 75 miles, so I'm 3/4 of the way there. Not so with the fundraising sadly. I've stalled at around the £2k mark. This could be due to the fact that I've not been pestering so many people lately (failing motivation, etc). Still, there's still time to find it again. Next week - the Great Bakewell Pudding Chase in which the first 100 runners home will win a Bakewell Pudding. If today's performance is anything to go by I won't be taking any puddings home. Still - and no sour grapes intended here - I don't like them anyway.