Great Edinburgh Run - Race Day

Sunday: Less of a sleepless night than for my first race, I awoke to my alarm playing the Rocky theme tune. I went early to the Meadows with my younger brother and whilst I felt I was too early last time, it felt good being early this time. There were a lot of tents to see, a great atmosphere was building up, and it was relaxing walking around without being in a rush. I wore jogging bottoms and a zipper over my racing gear, and stripped off shortly before the race (learning from the first race). I made sure I went to the bathroom before my warm-up and whilst chatting nervously to my brother, was nearly late for my warm-up. The organisers had a professional on a stage doing warm-up moves to music which was a lot more fun than it sounds. It was a very good warm-up, I felt more prepared as a result. At the starting line, I handed my hat to my brother, as some rain was predicted, and it was quite cool. It was strange being surrounded by so many runners (10,000 in the race this year) but my nerves were much calmer having some race experience behind me. I was in the final wave and was very pumped up to go, hearing my name read out on the loudspeaker (thanks to my brother) was both surprising and motivating :o) I struck up a conversation with someone while we waited but she was with others and moved off, which was probably a good thing, I didn't plan on talking and running. The race started off great: there was a gentle breeze, the runners were spread out, good music on the earphones, the body felt energetic. I had a mobile in one hand (doubling as music player and stopwatch) and a Lucozade sport drink in the other. I had a yellow wrist band from the Nike tent which listed the times I should be reaching to get to 75mins for the race; it was a great feeling to see me beating each target in the beginning. I kept slowing myself down at times, knowing I was going too fast, bearing in mind I needed to last 10km. It was fairly flat and downhill initially, hence I was fine, sipping juice at intervals. It felt great to be running through Edinburgh, familiar streets and buildings, seeing lots of people dressed up for charity, crowds cheering us on. A friend was positioned at the 4km mark and I looked around to wave but on seeing a tv camera, I ducked and hid behind another runner, thereby missing my poor friend who was apparently cheering very loudly for me :o( It was after this that things started to go downhill (in the metaphorical sense). I approached a very steep slope, very steep by my standards, and I didn't expect it, not having seen it on the drive round the course route yesterday. I slowed down, kept my head down, since looking up was scaring me. There was a drinks station there, though I already had my drink. I received a text from my friend which disrupted the settings on my mobile, though I am fairly sure I saw I had done 5km in 25mins, which delighted me. But this was far too fast for me, in terms of endurance for a 10km. My body slowed down, I kept going but the uphill felt never-ending and the 6km-7km part saw many drop off like flies. It was getting hotter and more humid, the predicted rain never came. Despite drinking lots of juice to re-energise me, my body started to let me down. I tried keeping a slow pace to let me get my breath back but I was wheezing uncontrollably, and started to feel dizzy and faint. I noticed funny looks from other runners, the expressions of the race marshalls. Still kept going, I was adamant I wouldn't walk for any part of the race. It got to the point, I realised I was running too much with my eyes closed, nearly bumping into people, my legs were giving way, and I was moving towards the race marshalls, perhaps subconsciously, because I knew I was moments from fainting. It was a terrible feeling, an internal struggle between the part of me that was crying out that the body needed to be listened to and the part of me that was desperate to not give in to walking. It was with huge regret and many tears that I slowed down to walk, but pushing to walk as fast as possible. I was unable to time how long this was and it is slightly a blur, my head ached and my vision wasn't clear for a while. I kept sipping the juice, to get me back on track. There were more, though shorter, uphill slopes but the walking had helped. The cheering crowds were motivating and thinking of my injured friend, I forced myself to get a grip and enjoy the race, to be glad I was there. Once I accepted I had to walk, I enjoyed myself more, it was a beautiful course route. Seeing the 800m sign was a huge relief and I tried to speed up towards the end, though there was hardly anything in me left by that point. It was a great feeling to run the last few hundred metres, the crowds were cheering wildly for all the runners, and they had a guy dressed up as Elvis, singing Viva Las Vegas (!) I was grinning stupidly after the 800m sign because, as luck would have it, the Rocky theme tune started up on my mobile, and it was an enormously wonderful feeling. I crossed the finish with my arms up, like they do on tv, hehe, relieved to have made it to the end, I was ecstatic :o) I handed in my timing chip and collected my goody bag as I left, the Meadows was packed, even though I was with the last wave. I rang my friend in jubilant mood, looked around for my family, and savoured the moment. It is just as well, as it pretty much was the moment that was savoured, and not much else after. I wanted to stay longer and take in the atmosphere, but the kids and my family were keen to leave, which added to the post-race anti-climax feeling. They had a lot of errands to run so I spent the afternoon driving around with them, instead of resting or enjoying my post-race glory. I was exhausted by evening, and hungrily tucked into fish and chips from L'Alba D'Oro, which tasted heavenly. I received a text from my friend that the race times were online, which I was eager to know since my mobile had stopped timing me. My time was recorded as 71mins 01secs, beating my 'b' target of 74mins, and close to my 'a' target of 69mins. The time itself pleased me but I couldn't help but wonder my time if I hadn't walked. I may not have finished if I hadn't walked, I know that deep down, but my heart doesn't feel anywhere near the pride it felt for the first race. It was a good day generally, I did enjoy the race more than last time, much much more. But I can't help but feel disappointed with myself for walking. It's even more disappointing knowing the disappointment of others. My brothers didn't care about that, they were surprised and pleased I finished and that I was still walking at the end of it all. It was nice to have that family backing but my mood was still rather downbeat all evening. I felt for my friend who was unable to run due to injury and I kept going over the race in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I had heard much about the anti-climax feeling and experienced it today, though mine was more deep-rooted in my own sense of failure to achieve personal aims. It felt disappointing to feel disappointed, I wanted to be jumping up and down over my first 10km, I had been over the moon and bouncing off the walls over my first race. But it's difficult to feel pleased when I didn't run the whole race. All I can do is analyse the race and move on, learn from it, for the Great Manchester Run in 2 weeks. Today was good day really, some very good moments, hopefully the next race won't make me feel so disappointed with myself.