I'm finally going to be a proper runner!

Yes, it is true.  After years of faffing around and running all those marathons that aren't 'proper marathons' I am actually going to run the only marathon that seems to count in the minds of the vast majority of the population... London!

After 7 (or is it 8?) consecutive years of entering the ballot in the spring and getting the 'Sorry' magazine in October I had resigned myself to waiting another year, and anyway I had already booked Paris on the assumption I wouldn't get a place.  When I got my first London rejection, way back when I started running, I thought I'd look into running for a charity, but the fundraising total seemed eyewateringly high, so I discounted it as a viable way to get to run.  I thought about getting a GFA (good for age) time, but let's face it my times aren't good for any age.

And then, this year, there was a glimmer of hope... My running club had 2 places for the club ballot and, as a one off, a draw was to be held for 2 people, who were prepared to find a charity place, to benefit from a sizeable fundraising pledge so that worrying about raising a huge some of money is reduced.  I did a little mental maths.  We have just over 100 members in the club, not all of them would want to enter the ballot for one of the 4 places.  This was my best chance every to get to London!

Time passed.  I got wrapped up in work - the end of term is alway stressful (and I have just remembered another admin task that I should be doing right now rather than typing this...).  Then, on Monday, while year 8 were doing an end of topic test on 'Atoms and Elements' I sneakily checked my email on my 'phone.... An email to say that I had won a charity pledge!  I smiled so much that one of the boys asked if I was OK!  All I had to do now was secure a charity place.

I thought this would be easy.... after all, when you get the 'Sorry' magazine it is stuffed full of charities begging you to sign up to raise a squillion pounds for them.  I checked the website.  Charity after charity said that all their places had gone.  I was beginning to panic.  Then I decided to think local - there is a wonderful school for physically disabled children just up the road... I wondered if they had any places, so sent them an email.  This was 9pm in the evening, so obviously I was going to have to wait for a reply.  

I didn't have to wait long.  During period 2, while my year 11s were working on their BTEC assignments, I noticed that I'd forgotten to turn the emails off on my 'phone (I normally don't get my email on my 'phone because it is annoying!) and decided that it wouldn't hurt to just flick through and see if there was anything interesting.  I actually did a little dance when I saw the email confirming that they had a place for me.  My yr11 are lovely and used to my eccentricities by now - but they do struggle to understand that anyone could be excited about the idea of running 26.2 miles!

So now the hard work begins!  I still have a sizeable chunk of money to raise and I will be running 2 big city marathons 2 weeks apart.  I'm not sure if I should look on London as an enjoyable recovery run after Paris, or regard Paris as my last long run before London.  Running London seems far more overwhelming than Paris, even though there are fewer runners.  It is going to be harder to get to the start line given the useless transport links on a Sunday morning.  I guess I am going to have to start thinking about logistics pretty soon.

Huge thanks to Fetcheveryone Running Club and Treloar's for making my dream come true.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/MrsBridgewater1

A Valentine's Day PB!

I was about to start this blog with the line 'My relationship with this race isn't great,' but I see that this i.e. exactly the phrase I used last year!  So if anyone wants to know why I have issues with this race all they need to do is click that link.  Whatever you think about this race, there is no disputing the fact that having a 20 mile road race in the build up to the big spring marathons is a brilliant idea.  Running 20 miles on your own is not my idea of fun, but I would struggle to find a training partner who wanted to run at a similar pace to me and fear that I could easily persuade them that it would be a really good idea to stop for a coffee in that interesting looking coffee shop.  So, the race entries opened, and I found myself clicking the links, typing in my credit card details and crossing my fingers that there wouldn't be a repeat of last year's ashtray-gate!  

I didn't train for this race specifically.  My intention was to run it as a training run and see how I felt.  This was a good plan, as I'd ended up running a bit faster than I'd wanted to at parkrun yesterday due to a small person being unwell and not being there to slow me down to her glacial pace.  It had been cold - so my Garmin was buried under gloves and long sleeved top - I'd planned an easy run, wanting to run 5k in about 27/28 minutes, and I did feel I was running easily - chatting as I passed people on my way round, but finishing in 24minutes 26seconds.  Oops.  This morning was chilly but sunny - gloves and sunglasses weather - so I decided that I would not look at my watch at any point other than when I passed a mile marker.  I reckoned I was running this as a training run so I would run as fast or as slow as felt comfortable.  

Chatting to Mark (photographer)

We had the, now traditional and frankly one of the best things about Bramley, FetchEveryone meet up at A&G's house near the start.  Tea, gossip and proper loos - lovely! A two minute walk saw us at the start line, bumping into various people I knew on the way.  The first mile of the run was very congested - someone dropped a gel and ran back to pick it up which added to the melee.  The first few miles were crowded and good natured.  I ran along chatting to people I knew and enjoying the scenery - a group of 6 horses cantered across their field to have a look at us!  A friend commented that he could hear me chatting 'from miles away' and that he thought, as I passed him that he would easily be able to catch me later as I obviously wasn't taking it very seriously and was wasting my energy on talking! (*)

The water stations were frequent and one day I will learn to drink from a plastic cup while moving, the marshals were friendly and encouraging.  Special mention must go to the guys marshalling at about 9/19 miles.  They were the loudest marshals on the course!  At about 4 miles I saw a friend and his son running in the other direction - they'd not managed to get a race place, but decided to run anyway, and it was lovely to see them.  I was checking my watch at each mile marker, but not really paying much attention to it, if that makes sense.  There is a longish hill that goes up towards the 6 mile marker, it is much shallower on the first lap, I think they crank up the elevation for the second lap, but I was surprised to note that I had run one of my fastest miles on that stretch (8.16).  The secret to this was that I was chatting (yes, really, I know you'll find it hard to believe) to total strangers as we slogged our way up it.  

The last few miles of the first lap felt quite festive.  All the 10 miles finishers are looking forward to the finish, we all know there is a nice downhill stretch ahead.  It is hard not to get carried away.  I had a giggle at the 3/4mile, 1/2mile, and 1/4 mile to the finish signs - what is 10 extra miles between friends?  I got to the 10 mile finish thinking, 'Bother, if I was stopping now I'd be on for a PB!' Only just, but a PB all the same!  I did worry about the wheels coming off in the second half, but I didn't really have any option other than to carry on running, so I did.  

Given that more people run 20 miles at this event than run 10, it is surprising how empty the roads feel on the second lap.  The first mile - until the turn into Folly Lane - involved lots of overtaking of people who had finished the 10 mile race and were going back to the car park!  The lack of distraction made it feel a bit harder, although I still managed to chat away quite happily to people I was passing and others who were passing me.  The wind had also picked up and we ran the first couple of miles of the second lap into a rather bracing breeze!  Slopes that had seemed inconsequential when last encountered now felt like the north face of the Eiger.  The hills at 16 and 18 miles were still there - just with few people running up them!  

Multi tasking!

The last three miles were a bit dull.  Not many people around, scenery you've seen before, and my confused brain trying to work out if we'd done the last uphill bit of if we still had that to look forward to.  At 17 miles I'd looked at my watch and realised that I was on for a PB.  In fact, I could slow right down and still get a PB.  I didn't slow down though, I just carried on.  I was still overtaking a few people, although a couple of people who obviously take this pacing lark seriously did fairly whizz past at 19 miles!  

"I asked for gin!"

And then we were on the final downhill section to the finish.  I was smiling so much and felt as thought I could carry on running for miles!  One spectator pointed at  me and said 'Look at her - she doesn't look like it was an effort at all!'  I threw myself past one last runner as we approached the finish and was over the line and feeling elated!  I felt as though I was bouncing up and down with excitement.  An 11 minute PB!  I removed my timing chip, miracles never cease - I could actually bend over and remove it all by myself!  The support at the finish of the 20 mile race is a bit more muted than at the end of the 10 - lots of people have gone home by then, but it was still great to be over the line.  

Then, back to A&G's, having collected my medal, for tea, chilli and gossip and to see how everyone else had got on.  I had zero expectations of this race when I turned up this morning, but it turned out to be a fabulous day out!  I had no idea I was capable of running so well.  Thank you to Reading Road Runners for organising the race, and to A&G for their hospitality.

Keeping Britain/Bramley tidy

(*) He didn't catch me up.  I wasn't unsportsmanlike in my whoop of joy at running faster than him.

Bramley. Again.

My relationship with this race is not great.  I ran the 10 mile in 2012, wimped out of starting in 2013, had a nightmare at the 2014 20 mile race and yet somehow I found myself at the start line again this morning.  Given that my marathon training had been put on hold following my tumble at the end of January, and the fact that my foot is still not fully healed I couldn't help but think that running 20 miles was a foolish endeavour.  But I'd paid my entry fees and I hate wasting money.  This is the only 20 mile race I have ever run, so I knew I could run 10min/mile pace and still get a PB.  That is what I intended to do - nice and easy.  

We had a bit of a FetchEveryone meet up before the race.  Cup of tea, gossip, proper loos - that sort of thing and then made our way a couple of hundred meters down the road to the start at Bramley Primary School.  There were hundreds and hundreds of runners!  It seemed a much bigger field than in previous years and as such there were loads of people I knew there but didn't get to see in the crowd.  It took well over a minute to cross the start line - so just as well there was chip timing.  

My pacing plan went out of the window as soon as I started running.  I felt as though I was taking it easy but was running close to 8min/mile pace.  Not sustainable, given my current level of fitness! I slowed down, started chatting to people around me.  And there were plenty of people around me - I hadn't remembered it being this busy the year before.  The water stations were frequent and the marshals friendly and the miles ticked by.  As we approached the 10 mile mark I decided I wanted to run on my own for a while.  I was aware that running and talking was stopping me from listening to any niggles that my foot was giving me.  At 10 miles all the 10 mile runners finish - which is an obvious statement I know, but it means that you are running alongside runners who are sprinting towards the finish line.  This, coupled with the slight downhill at this point, makes it very hard not to pick up the pace - which would be a really silly idea as there are still another 10 miles to go!

I got to the 10 mile mark in about 1hr 29 mins - only 3 minutes slower than my PB, and made the decision to keep on running.  I ran past the bus shelter where I'd had a little sob last year and felt OK.  The roads were much clearer now - this is, I suppose, why I don't remember it as a busy race, because the second half isn't!  Although I had dropped my pace a little, this second half felt as though it was faster, I think I'd got into the flow and the mile markers seemed to come round quicker.  It is all in the mind I know - but it did seem as though it wasn't taking long.  

At around 14 miles there was a warning shout from a runner behind me about a car.  I was hugging the verge, but a great big, shiny, black Range Rover was right on top of me.  I tapped on his window and had stern words with him as I ran along side him!  I was polite - but I am sure he is in no doubt that I have a very low opinion of idiots who drive aggressively when there are runners around!  I got a cheer from the other runners - and one of them pointed out that if I could carry on a conversation while running alongside a Range Rover then I wasn't putting enough effort into my running!

At 15 miles my lack of training kicked in.  The slope that had seemed so easy at 6 miles was sapping my strength at 16m, but I WOULD NOT give up.  The last 5miles were a testament to mind over matter.  I remember a PTI from my TA days who would always say 'Your mind gives up long before your body is ready to stop' but today I proved him wrong.  My mind is way more stubborn than my body and stopping was not an option.  I was even beginning to regret stopping at the water stations.  I can't walk and drink (let alone run and drink) from an open cup, and I'd not brought a water bottle with me - so I stopped at each station.  Now I could see that this time was wasted time and would mean that there was no way I could get a sub 3hr time.  I was still on course for a PB though (previous time was 3:27:39) so I'd have to be content with that.  

With 1.5 miles to go I passed a young man walking up a hill - I grabbed his arm and dragged him up the hill with me!  Managed to hustle a couple of people along like this.  This was the only bit of the second lap that seemed longer than the first.  The finish line took forever to materialise, but when I saw it I put on a burst of speed in sheer desperation for this to be over!  I finished in about 3hrs 1minute.  

Once I'd staggered through the finish handed over my timing chip and collected my goody bag I made my way to the Fetch gathering, where our wonderful hostess (who had herself completed the 10 mile race) was kind enough to undo my shoe laces so that I didn't have to bend over!  She also furnished us with many cups of tea, chilli con carne, jacket potatoes and cakes.  It really does make the race extra special to meet up with such lovely people afterwards.  

As to the race bling, hmm, Husbando described it as an ashtray!  A little metal dish thing.  Not sure about it to be honest.  I like a medal :-)

Decisions, decisions.

Had I been the type of person to believe in signs and omens I probably wouldn't have left the house this morning, or at least I would have turned back before I got 3 miles from home.

A squabble between child number 4 and child number 5 resulted in child 4 falling (or was he pushed?) off a chair and getting a black eye.  I decided to leave the house anyway.  I got about 2 miles from home and realised that I hadn't got my Garmin with me.  This wouldn't have been an insurmountable problem if I had been wearing a watch, but I wasn't, so I turned back and went home to get my watch.

I wasn't stressed, I still had plenty of time.  I got further this time.  And then I hit black ice.  I tried to turn left and the car slid across the road.  I braced myself for an impact as the car slid, sideways, into the verge.  I was driving a Volvo so there was no harm done to the car!  A wee bit further on I had to divert around a road closure (a fallen tree was being demolished), yet still I was determined to get to Bramley for the 10.30am start!

I last ran this race (the 10 mile version) two years ago, and remembered that one of the car parks was some way from the start, but arriving with very little time to spare I felt I couldn't risk driving to the closer car park, finding no spaces and then having to drive back again.  I parked at 10.10am and had to run the mile and a half to the venue, I got there with a few minutes to spare, dropped my bag at the baggage drop, realised I'd left my Shot Blocks in my bag so had to go back and get them, then I dashed to the queue for the loos and made it to the start line with about a minute to spare.

So, we were off.  The weather was fabulous, blue skies (if you can remember what they look like) and lovely and warm.  A bit too warm really.  I was wearing a long sleeved top under a t-shirt and the long sleeved top had to go.   It is quite a faff to remove one top from under the other while running, but I managed it!  It was all going quite well at this point, and at about 4.5 miles I caught up with some friends I know via Basingstoke parkrun and ran with them for a few miles.  At 5 miles everything started to hurt.  Or rather, everything down the right hand side of my body started to hurt.  I think the adrenaline from the near miss in the car and the aggro of getting to the start had worn off and the earlier impact was taking its toll.  I told my friends to run on, and said that I was going to stop at 10 miles.  I meant it.  I limped past friends from parkrun and Fetcheveryone who were there supporting the runners, assuring them all that I would stop at 10 miles.  I still meant it.  I'd forgotten that the course seems to be almost totally uphill, apart from a nice little downhill to the finish.  I really couldn't face running the second lap.

At the 10 mile point the runners were directed to the left if they were finishing the 10 mile race and to those running the 20 mile race to the right.  I knew I wasn't eligible to finish the 10 mile race, so I carried on, thinking that I would pull up soon after.  My training plan stated that I should run 15 miles today, so I had it in my mind that I would get to 12.5 miles and then turn round and come back.  At about 11 miles I stood by the side of the road and updated my Facebook status to say 'This will be my first DNF.  Entire right hand side of body is agony - I blame the skid earlier.  11 miles done and I'm heading back to the start.' And I meant it, I really did.  At this point, a friend passed me, and told me I should head back, so I ran with him for a while instead and decided to see if I could get to 15 miles.  I adopted a 'run/walk' strategy, running for 4 minutes and walking for 1 minute and struggled on.  And I do mean struggled.  I had no power in my right leg, but the further I went the less sense it made to give up.  15 miles came, and I realised that even if I walked the rest of the away I would finish before the 4 hour cut off time.  So on I went.  I was encouraged by fellow runners.  Spurred on by setting myself small goals (one of them was to get away from the woman with the jangley coins in her pocket) I eventually found myself at the sign saying 3/4 of mile to go - the end was almost in sight and the last half mile is gloriously down hill.  I had nothing left, I just wanted to get this over with.  I managed to cross the line, and then grabbed railing and hobbled though the finish area, waving off some concerned questions from the first aiders and collecting my goody bag.

I was about to head home when I head someone call "Hello Fetchie" (I was wearing my Fetch hoodie) and turned to find myself being invited back to a strangers' house for 'Tea, cake, chilli...'  Now, much as I would advise my children not to go home with people they have met on the internet, I have never been much for following my own advise, and was reassured when I heard that mutual friends were already there.  Tea, cake and a bit of chat in a very comfy chair followed.  Thank you to 'Ironmum' for making me feel so welcome - it might even make the prospect of running this race again a bit more inviting.  

I staggered back to the car, turned the heated seat on, and drove home without incident.  It took me a while to get out of the car when I got home, and even longer to get up the stairs to the shower, where I discovered that yet another pair of running tights have started to chafe.  I am going to have to have a clear out of worn out running kit if I want any skin left on my back!  

So, not a great day, but beautiful weather and a time (3:25:55) I can aim to better if I ever run another 20 mile race! 

The first York marathon

I've been to York lots of times, but I always seem to forget just how far away it is from my house in Hampshire.  This was definitely the case when entries for the inaugural York Marathon opened back in January.  Luckily I remembered soon enough that I would need to book a hotel room.  That was all done way back at the beginning of the year and then, what with changing jobs and a million and one other things to do, I put it to the back of my mind.  When you have five children going away overnight is not a simple matter.  Taking them with you makes any hotel stay rather pricy (especially as all the hotels in York seemed to have hiked up their prices for this weekend), you can't leave a 16 year old in charge of his siblings for that long, so arrangements must be made.  Our arrangements this time saw the two youngest going to stay with my mum (who we met at a service station on the M1 for the handover), the two oldest ones staying with friends, and the middle one coming with Husbando and I.

The journey up on Saturday afternoon was uneventful, and we checked in to a Travelodge near the University campus where the race was to start.  I'm a Premier Inn girl myself, but there was no availability so Travelodge it was.  The beds aren't as comfy in a Travelodge.  After a final carb load at Pizza Express we returned to the room for an early night.  This was a marathon where I'd actually be able to get a lie in as my alarm was set for 7.30am.

We got to the campus at about 8.30am.  It was somewhat confusing walking in as the signage seemed to be set up for the shuttle buses and drivers rather than pedestrians.  We walked through a warren of university buildings, along the way we found a very rare thing - a ladies' toilet with no queue!  Then through a few more warren like bits and we joined the baggage queue - possibly the longest queue I have ever been in and moving so slowly.  I did a rough calculation that there was no way I'd get to the baggage drop before the starting pens closed, luckily I had Husbando and middle child with me, so they could take my bag.  I said goodbye to them and then joined the masses at the start.

I bumped into two fellow Fetchies there - lovely to put faces to names.  I have yet to meet anyone wearing a 'Fetch' shirt who wasn't friendly and happy to chat.  The 9.30am start was a little delayed and took me a few minutes to get across the start line, but it was good to be moving!  The first stretch was down hill.  Quite a steep downhill, which was worrying because I knew we had to come back up that road at the finish.  I tried not to think about it.  We ran into the city centre, through the main shopping centre, passed Betty's Tearooms and York Minster before heading out into the countryside.

The support was amazing.  Not just in the city centre but in all the villages (it isn't every race where you get to high 5 a lady vicar who is standing outside her church in her Sunday best) and at random points on country lanes.  You'd be running along, hoping that you'd reach a point where you could die quietly around the next corner (or dip behind a hedge for a comfort break) only to find a group of people cheering!

This marathon was billed as being a flat marathon.  It is the hilliest 'flat' race around!  The hills were accompanied by unexpectedly dry weather, but it was very windy in places; especially as we ran up a hill past a garden centre called 'Breezy Knees Garden Centre!'  At 20 miles I was starting to wilt.  I had a brief walking break, but it was so hard start running again that I decided not to bother with that again. I did have to slow down to text Husbando so that he knew when to get to a spectator point, much hilarity ensued amongst spectators in the village at 23 miles about me texting while shuffling along.  I said I was calling for a taxi.

It was around this point that I realised I could get a PB if I pushed a bit.  I'd turned up at the start line thinking that this race was about just getting round.  That I'd be happy with 4hrs30mins.  I was only going through with it because I was doing it in Ali's memory and because it was the first.  I was frankly shocked.  I started to push myself a bit more, and was overtaking people all over the place, including people who'd overtaken me when I walked and when I had a 'comfort stop!'

At about 25.4miles I got to 'the hill.'  I was desperate now to get this bloody run over and done with, so I just kept on running,  I don't think my pace dropped at all in that mile, but I was overtaking people left, right and centre, which felt great!  And then we were at the top of the hill and it was about 0.3miles to go.  It was a gentle downhill, but my knees were tired and there was no way I was going to throw myself down the hill at full pace.  I'm glad I didn't as I might have missed seeing Husbando and my son in the crowd.  I did manage a fairly strong finish - concentrating on form as I crossed the line.  One lady near me did one better - crossing the line with a cartwheel!  I'd seen her do several cartwheels as we'd run around the route.  I have no idea how anyone could manage that after 26.2 miles - I can't do one at all!

I'd crossed the line in 4hrs 11mins 40secs.  A new PB!  We filtered through to the finish and collected our goodie bags (medals, tech t-shirt and various other bits and pieces) and I met up with Husbando for the LONG walk back to the car (parked at the Travelodge).

It was a good race with excellent support and beautiful scenery.  If it wasn't so far away (it took 6hrs to drive home) then I'd definitely consider doing it next year.

Kent Roadrunner Marathon

It all started a few months ago, Ian Berry of TZruns mentioned that he was organising a second 'Kent Roadrunner Marathon' and had I thought about signing up.  "Yeah right," I thought, "I really want to run 17 laps !"  I told Ian that I'd run his marathon if he let me have bib number 69.  I'd never heard  of people demanding their own numbers and getting them, so thought I was on fairly safe ground.  How wrong was I?  Ian said yes, and I was signed up.  I wasn't even sure where the race was taking place until someone told me it was 'near Bluewater!'

I travelled down to Gravesend yesterday afternoon, with a brief detour to Bluewater to pick up things I'd forgotten to pack (hair brush, FitFlops), and checked in to a Premier Inn.  As I checked in I asked what time breakfast would be served, 8am!  Far too late for me when the race was due to start at 9am.  Dinner was eaten with friends (who were celebrating their wedding anniversary).  It was a huge amount of food, and after catching up with friends and meeting new people, I toddled off to bed at about 10.30pm.  

Yesterday was surprisingly warm, and I was dreading a hot day today, but the sky was cloudy and the temperature was chilly as I arrived at the Cyclopark and parked my car close to the pavilion building before paying for parking, collecting my race number, timing chip and 16 wrist bands. The wrist bands were to save our poor addled brains having to remember how many laps we had run - a good plan as most runners come equipped with just 2 thumbs and 8 fingers so that counting beyond 10 would involve removing shoes and socks!  The system is quite simple, you start with 16, take one off every time you complete a lap and pass the start line, thus running your very last lap without a wrist band.  Simple really.  

We assembled for the start, there were announcements for birthdays, 100th marathons and then we were off.  The first 9 miles were fabulous, if a little too fast, but then I developed a shooting pain in my right foot.  I thought it was a blister, so took of my shoe and had a look, but nothing there... It was agony to put my foot down, still, at least it slowed me down to a more manageable speed.  I was ok-ish until about 17.5 miles.  Then it all got too much, it hurt a lot, and the idea of running round and round the track again and again lost its appeal!  Passing the finish line was pure torture - the temptation to stop was huge.  I walked through the water station each time I passed it, I detoured to the loo 5 times, I stopped for a chat with a friend who was marshalling.  "Is it OK if I stop?" I asked, she told me to do another lap and see how I felt, walking if necessary.  So that's what I did. 

Whilst I can't say I'm a convert to laps, they do have some interesting features.  You get lapped, and you lap others.  I was lapped by the first man at 4 miles into the race and the first woman after 6 miles.  It was good to see these speedy runners whizzing past, normally they are so far ahead that mere mortals like me don't get to see them.  Lapping other people was an unusual experience for me - and I lapped some people several times. It was a very friendly atmosphere, lots of banter between runners who knew each other well or had only just met.  My frequent loo stops confused people as I'd suddenly be behind them again and working to catch up!   17 laps also ensures that you become very familiar with every twist, turn and undulation!  A slope that you barely register on lap one becomes a mountain during the final few laps.  

I'd set out today aiming for 4hrs 20mins.  By 17 miles in I didn't care how long it took, I was just going to finish this thing.  I couldn't do the necessary maths to work out how I was doing.  At the beginning of the penultimate lap I worked out that if I could do each of the remaining laps in about 15 minutes I could still get my PB.  So I walked to the water station, had a couple of cups of water and set off at a gentle trot!  I was so thrilled to get rid of my last wrist band that I threw it to some friends in the crowd. Shedding that bit of weight obviously worked and I picked up the pace.  Suddenly I was running at sub 9min/mile pace.  I caught up with a runner who'd left me behind ages ago and we ran together for a bit, before I ploughed on leaving him behind.  I got to the top of the last steepish hill and walked for about 100m, I couldn't run... but my pace still stayed below 9min/mile pace.  I started running again as I turned the corner to the uphill slope to the finish, I kept pushing on, the last quarter mile shows a pace just over 8min/mile.  I've never been happier to see a finish line.  The gun time was 4:16:17, my watch showed 4:16:00 but whatever it was it was a 6+ minute PB after the toughest run I have ever had.  

The medal we were given is HUGE, ostentatious and heavy on a fabulous custom ribbon! I staggered back to the car with it round my neck, it really felt as though someone had moved my car... I'd parked close to the pavilion, but this walk to the car was taking ages!  Then a return walk to the pavilion with wallet to buy lunch and to pay for a massage.  It was lovely to sit around and chat with people I'd met during the run.  

After lunch I said my goodbyes and thanks to the lovely race marshals and to Ian and made my way home.  I did have to pull into a layby for a snooze at one point, but got home safely in the end.  I'm looking forward to seeing the race photos - the photographers were so friendly and encouraging!  As for tonight - an early night beckons!