Gutted

A few weeks ago L sowed the seed in my mind about the Shepherd Seven race. As she gleeful told me, it's over half a half marathon and the furthest distance I've race over. She says 'the only way is up'. Hmmm, or down. So I'm saving my energy again this morning.

We arrive in plenty of time and I see a few people I know but it doesn't appear to be full of the usual suspects from my brief 10K career, as I expected it might be. I have translated my Jagermeister 10k time into 7 mile speak which gives me a target time to beat of 46 mins 38 seconds. I line up about six rows back from the start line but hardly anyone lines up in front of me, so when the starter asks us all to move forward to the line, I’m practically on the front row.

My Dad is there supporting again, as is L, and Doggo would have been had he not been banished to the car for getting over excited. He nearly joined in the fun run which started earlier.

The start is downhill and very quick. The course is marked by four-foot high poles which are just at the right height to catch yourself somewhere nasty. I try not to go with the pace but as we hit the first mile marker and I take a lap time on L’s watch, which she has kindly lent me, it says 5.30. Oh dear. Suicidal pace. Although in my defence it got very narrow after the start so it was necessary to get a good start to avoid getting caught in a bottleneck. I force myself to slow down and although I can’t successfully do the maths in my head, the splits do look steadier. No one else seemed to have eased off though and I struggle to find someone to tail, no one seems to be running at my sort of pace. There’s not even a sight of 'that women'. Mind you I'm not sure I would have recognised her in shorts and a running top; I've not really seen her face, just her lyrca rear view and ponytail.

I complete the first lap bang on pace although I had hoped to have a minute or so in hand. L gives me a surreptitious wave but I think Doggo, who's been released from the car, has seen me anyway. I know I need to up the pace again or else it'll be a slower second lap and I'll miss my target. Also as I’ve just learnt the last mile is rather viciously up hill and on gravel, not good for my ankles. I think I'm going quicker but I also feel I’ve eaten too much, although it was only toast and a stodgy energy bar, I've eaten for a triathlon not for a run.

In the end I come in 13 seconds outside my target. Which on reflection isn't bad I suppose but I was gutted at the time. Oddly according to my watch at 10k I was well up on my Jagermeister time and I did exact a revenge of sorts on 'that woman' by beating her. L's advice is to not wear a watch. She's probably right but I do find the info useful.

At Ticknall L was a bit miffed that we went for a Sunday lunch when she wanted to head straight home to catch up on the lie-in we had missed. So not wanting to do myself out of a good time, this time we head straight home but this time she isn't in the mood, although she indulges me anyway. Women are so difficult to predict. I think she's miffed because I ran and she's still not quite fit enough to do so but apparently, no, it’s the odious beast that's reared its head again. Says she couldn't have afforded the event even if she was fit enough to do it.

So rather than hit the pub, we stay in to save money. Which in a way is a shame because it's now reckoned that a glass of beer is far better than water at rehydrating the body after exercise. Something to do with the sugars, salts, and bubbles in a pint helping fluids be absorbed more quickly. Beer is also full of carbohydrates, vitamins, and minerals. So now moderate consumption of beer is recommended as part of an athlete's diet. Dubious science me thinks but who cares.

They don't mention wine, which we hit in a big way but we know it's good for cholesterol, so what the hell. We couldn't really have taken Doggo out to the pub with us anyway, as its like world war three outside. Instead we have a great night in and debate his replacement; I hope he isn't listening. Replacement as in a new agility dog that is, so that Doggo can retire and get to become L's longed for lap dog.

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