It’s the third race of the Grand Prix series tonight, not held as usual at Bruce Wayne’s Manor, sorry I mean Wollaton Hall, but tonight at good old dependable Rushcliffe again. Where we were on Thursday for race two. This is rather unimaginative of the organisers, who had the chance to take this popular race series back to one of its old haunts, such as Forest Fields, or to a new location at one of the many parks around Nottingham. Somewhere like Bestwood would have been a good choice.
So back to those lovely gravel paths for just 5k this time. The shortest but also possibly the hardest of the four distances because for many hardy folks this is simply an all out sprint from start to finish, and if you’re like me, it’s hard not to join in.
L got the hundred miles up on Saturday, so she’s already well on the way in her quest for five hundred miles by next May and she’ll be adding another eighteen or so this week.
I start brisk-ish, avoiding the footpath wherever possible and keeping to the grass edges. One four minute km follows another and then my legs collapse. 4:08, 4:24, 4:19 I gasp across the line and land in a heap. Things are not going well at the moment.
L does better again, knocking a minute off her time from last year, whilst I add over a minute.
Back home I enter us for the all new Birmingham Half, sorry Bupa Great Birmingham Run, in the belief (probably mistaken) that I am now a long distance runner. Then I start looking at Cardiff....
(Tuesday 5th July)
Every little doesn’t count
3 hours ago