I ran my race on Wednesday night. It was touch and go whether I could do it as I was feeling a bit under the weather plus I didn't know if I could bear for my work colleagues to see me in my running gear.
The race took place on Hackney Marshes famous for the football pitches. They are huge and flat and, to be honest, a little bit boring.
It was a cool evening and dry. The skies at this time of year are fantastic but I had no camera to record their vastness or the towering cloud formations nor the red streaky sunset.
There were hundreds of people milling around including the very horrible person from the HR department of my previous workplace. Apparently it was she who advised that I should be phoned up and called away from my mother's death bed in order to be told that I was being made redundant. Thankfully I didn't see her until after the race so didn't feel spooked by the sight of her.
We got changed in the office so I had to wander around in my running gear in front of all my colleagues including those not running, but rather than feeling self-conscious I actually felt quite good about it. Somehow putting on the gear made me feel more like a legitimate runner. I also got complimented on my running shoes by the 20 somethings. The Unsurly Niece liked them too so it seems that I accidentally chose hip shoes. Personally I think they are garish and horrible.
I have never run 5K without stopping to walk every 10 minutes or so. On Wednesday night I decided I'd run for 2K, walk for a couple of minutes and stop again when I needed to. After much hanging about and failing to do the warm up properly we finally got away. After running for many miles I passed the 1K marker, hours later I came to the second marker - I swear it was the longest 2K ever - and I decided to keep on going and going and in the end I ran the whole thing. Obviously in this context the word "run" actually means jogging very slowly however I was really pleased to have done it all without stopping.
Afterwards I felt really pleased with myself although by the time I got home I was beginning to feel decidedly unwell what with the sandpaper throat and a dodgy stomach.
And my time? Well according to the results I did it in 35:50 which I was pretty pleased with. (I was also pleased that I beat the horrible HR woman.)
Since then I have had the most appalling cold and done very little over the past few days.
Next month is the All Ireland 5K. Obviously it is taking place in south London so I am seriously thinking of running wearing the Antriom saffron and white colours. I suppose I could run for Armagh as I have orange shoes and orange is their colour which is why when the team play away games, their fans refer to themselves as Orangemen (and women) on Tour.
I should stop writing nonsense and go away to my bed.