Yesterday was the day I'd trained for for months. The day of the Robin Hood Half Marathon had arrived. My Aussie friends had arrived the day before to pump me up, and cheer me on during the race. We carb-loaded the night before, and watched 'Murderball' to psych me up while I organised my music for the run. We arrived early, I got my leg taped to avoid shin splints, and pulled on a plastic rubbish bag to keep warm. The atmosphere was buzzing, everyone was making sure they had their gels ready for when a sugar boost was needed, kits checked, and after a last minute toilet stop, it was time to head to the starting line. I was ready. I was confident. I was going to follow the 2 hour 15 minute pace maker and then try to overtake him in the end. I knew my plan. Without my usual pack for water, gel, and my phone I felt light and the first couple miles were a breeze. I kept up with the 2 hour pace maker for the first 2 miles, and then dropped back a bit. It was a struggle but a good one. I felt like I was pushing myself just enough. And then at mile 4 everything started to go wrong. My right knee, the knee that had gone out in training years ago and forced me into physiotherapy, was starting to twinge. And sure enough, by mile 6 I was starting to resemble Simon Pegg's character in 'Run Fat Boy Run'. I trotted up to the first aid attendants and enquired about tape for my knee. The response was 'it's really not advisable to continue'. I said 'ok!' and hobbled away.
I spent the next couple miles feeling sorry for myself and berating myself for allowing this to happen! I should have warmed up better! I shouldn't have started so fast! I should have been focusing on my technique rather than the other runners and the passing scenery! I forgot to take my Forever Freedom Aloe gel in the morning! ARGH! I felt like crying.
At mile 8, I stopped again at an ambulance. The paramedic examined my knees and told me my right knee was swollen. He looked at me with that 'mom look' and I could hear him thinking 'you really should stop' but he also knew there was NO way that was happening. So he handed me the tape and said tape what you think will help. I had no idea and it didn't help at all but it made me feel better in the moment.
From mile 6 to the end it was a matter of running as much and as long as I could until it hurt TOO much, then walking as fast I could until I felt able to try running again. This cycle left me in the company of the other injured runners, and the unfit. I was pissed.
Then at mile 10 I saw my Aussies. I'd been looking for them for the last 4 miles, imagining a dramatic scene in which I threw myself into their arms in a weepy mess, crying out 'I've been injured! I can't carry on!' But when I saw them I was in hobbling, jogging mode and they were running alongside me on the side lines. I shouted 'I hurt my knee in mile 6! I'm hurting sooo bad!' and before I knew it they had made their way onto the race course and were running on either side of me, telling me I could do it, making me laugh, and cheering me up. After 600m they were off to find the finish line and left me to carry on with renewed energy. This was the single best moment of the whole race. I will never forget that moment.
The next 2 1/2 miles were painful and tedious. When you're used to running under 10 minute miles comfortably, hobbling a 13 minute mile seems like an eternity! And at mile 12 I started looking for P. Crazy, right? But in my delirious state, part of me thought, maybe these last 11 months has just been a nightmare, he'll be here, he wouldn't miss this! In my hurt and struggling state I so wanted him to magically appear and rescue me. But instead I took a deep breath and kept plodding on.
Mile 12.5 saw me reunited with the Aussies again and Runner Aussie joined me once again, getting me to the final stretch. I was desperate to finish the last 400m strong, and I almost did. I had to walk once but I powered through and finished in 2 hours 30 minutes.
It was a bittersweet finish. The race was not fun, to say the least, and I was 20 minutes off my desired finish time. But I found my old competitor spirit and I did not let an little thing like an injury stop me from finishing. Can't wait to try again.
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