Finally it seems that the good old British weather is going to allow us to get some outdoor racing. It’s just a shame my body isn’t keen on the idea.
We drive over to Alsager near Crewe. The race is busy, although not full. I think it was last year but I guess this year everyone’s been holding onto their pennies in case it was another victim of the weather.
L tells me to take it easy, so I do. With a dodgy left knee and a dodgy right calf, I don’t have a lot of choice. I probably shouldn’t be running at all but I need to do something.
It’s a bit of a surprise to overtake L about half a mile in, who has clearly started way down the front. This may have been partly my fault, by mistake I told her I thought we were heading off in the opposite direction. So what she thought was the probably the back was actually the front.
My race went ok, for a while. Up to about three miles, when I lost concentration a bit, probably pushed things a bit too hard and tweaked the dodgy calf. I walked a bit and considered quitting but couldn’t see a route back to the start/finish. By the time I passed the lane end where the finish was there was just one mile to go and I was running again, so I carried on. I got through it.
The time is awful though. In the last year I have done a PW in half marathon, 10k and now 5 miles.
We head off somewhere for Sunday lunch, which as we have the dogs, turns out to be the Victoria at Beeston. Not a bad choice and yay beer.
(Sunday 3rd February)