L likes being inaugural. So despite the fact I point out it’s the inaugural Dunchurch bike ride and offer to hire a tandem, we’re here a mere ten miles down the road a Church Wilne for the inaugural Wilne 10k. So too is protégé, so I have competition. This is what his personal trainer has been destroying, sorry I mean training, him for.
It is possibly the most hyped new race I’ve ever known and I mean that in a nice way. The organisers have promoted this race at every opportunity and have been present to push it at many local races. They are rewarded with a field of over 560 entries.
The organisation is impressive apart from one major fail, a distinct lack of loos. Which is a basic thing to get wrong. I could also gripe that the car park and race village falls mid way between the start and finish points, about half a mile from each. This makes spectating for people like my Dad difficult, as he’s not capable of hot footing it from start to finish. He’s happy though and positions himself at the finish which is also the 4k point on this is a two lap course but I do think having the finish by the race village would have made for a better post-race atmosphere.
The race itself went well. Almost as flat as they advertised but not pancake flat. The course was basically a big square, lots of straight flat traffic free sections. We could have done without the rain though. Mainly dry for the actual race but downpours before and afterwards.
The local residents came out in force especially in Draycott and especially the mad woman with the bell, which may or may not have helped. Plus a nice cotton t-shirt at the end, I’m a bit sick of all the technical ones that we keep getting and they usually don’t fit me anyway.
I went for a 42, held a pretty constant pace and just dipped under 42:00 so was happy. Three minutes ahead of protégé, not that I’m counting. As for L, a dodgy groin seemed set to put paid to a good time for her but no. She gritted her teeth and got home in her first sub-57 of the year and for some time. Perhaps her sessions with her personal trainer are helping, I hope she thanks him properly later.
We head off for celebratory Sunday lunch with my parents in nearby Shardlow.
Later we despatch Daughter to East Midlands airport en route to Zante, which is apparently a Greek island. She’s on a Club 18-30 holiday, which is a terrifying thought. She withdraws money on the way, her own money. Never seen that happen before.
In the morning we’re off as well. We’re heading down to Suffolk for a holiday and to touch base with Doggo’s twin brother. I kid you not.
(Sunday 4th September)