8451/21370
Last week I'd attempted my first Park Run of the year, but my legs had felt heavy and I gave up at 2km. I obviously hadn't done much running over Christmas (and when I say not much, I mean none) but I'd been to gym, done an intense 45 minute cycle class and played tennis. So I was surprised that my legs had given up on me.
Catie had been running too so I waited for her and told her I wasn't feeling it today. A man passing by said something along the lines of "I am never feeling it" and we both took an early bath (not literally sadly, instead we went to M and S to get a chicken for Sunday lunch).
We tried again this week and I was worried that I'd fail again, but decided not to push myself, just try to get round and see how it went. Just as last week I could tell almost immediately that my legs were not going to play ball (It's probably against Park Run rules to try and kick a ball all the way round), this week I knew I'd be fine. I didn't put myself under any pressure to hit any particular time - the danger of always trying to beat yourself or even the Me1 or Me2 version of yourself is that you can get dispirited if you fail and I am doing Park Run to get regular exercise, so it doesn't really matter what time it takes (you try telling me that though).
I barely checked my watch, kept up a reasonably pace and finished in 31.15, which is on the slow side for me, but still my 2026 PB, so I win.
As I approached the finish line I was aware of the guy behind me trying to overtake so I did get a little competitive and picked up the pace for the last 10 metres. He pipped me on the line by milliseconds. He told me he'd been keeping pace with me all the way round. If you want to use former TV stars to help you round that's your business. I note from the results that he is the 25-29 age range, whilst I am less than a year and a half from joining the 60+ athletes, so who is best?
The woman in front of him was also delighted to have beaten me by a second. As we went through the funnel at the end her husband told me that I was her nemesis and that she had finally beaten me.
I wanted to let all these delighted idiots know that I had just been aiming to get round today and that this was over 6 minutes off my own PB, but I decided to let the enjoy this moment. This was a story they could tell their grandchildren. The day I barely beat a man who occasionally used to be on TV, who was 30 years older than me in a race that wasn't even a race.
They have humiliated me this time, but I will make it my lifetime mission to make them pay, by beating them by upwards of 35 seconds in every future Park Run. Unless I am not feeling it, in which case I'll give up and go home.
It was good to have done some decent exercise and I felt great right up til after we'd had quite a big lunch. And then I fell asleep on the sofa at about 3pm. I was only going to shut my eyes, but Ernie put on relaxing pan pipe music and started narrating a peaceful story of being on a magical private yacht where everything you thought came true. I don't know if I dreamt it or if it was real and I can't remember any of the details, but it was the most amazing poetry, which was doubly impressive as it was coming from the mind of a boy who is usually happy to talk about poo or willies or six seven.
It was amazing, like being immersed in that salty pool I went to last month. I am fearful that my son has the magical power to put me to sleep so easily. Is he a hypnotist?
Yes, that's the explanation. Not that I am old and unable to run 5km without having to have a siesta.
