Rosa had run a shorter version of the course in previous weeks and prepared us for the worst--immense uphill stretches, a muddy section on the canal and unmanned wilderness. With that in mind, I prepared for the run a whole three days in advance. This involved not just extreme carb loading and laying off the alcohol but also thinking positively, dreaming positively and believing positively. For me, running is 120% mental, and I'm really good at psyching myself out.
The morning of the run, the sky began spitting down its anger on us. Chuck kept spirits high by joking and telling us that this race would be the most difficult--the marathon would be a breeze after an uphill, unsupported course. In hindsight, he was wrong, but i'll get to that a few entries down the line.
I aimed for a finish time of 3:30:00. Chuck started ahead of us, in the faster pace group and we never saw him during the race. Rosa and I stuck behind, in the slower but not slowest pace group and began to play a series of word association and 'I spy' games. Before we realised it, 10 miles had gone and we were going strong. The uphills were immense--not short little bursts, but slow, steady up, up, ups. We conquered the first three together.
In the middle of one of the nature parks, three giant adult deer leapt well across the road directly in front of us. that kind of stuff doesn't happen in London. And then somewhere between mile 14 and 15 as we were heading up yet another uphill, I made a friend, increased my pace and forged ahead.
I clearly remember running up a tiny country lane with the apple blossoms raining down, sun finally peeking through the clouds and thinking, yes, i can do this. i can run. I crossed the finish line in 3:17:24, which put me in contention to finish London in under four and a half hours. Elation! Pure elation!
despite the face, Rosa had a good run too. Thus, we spent the rest of the day passed out in the garden of a pub in Hemel grateful that the run did not to kill any of us.
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