This morning a leisurely kick off for the Droitwich Half Marathon at 12 noon. It’s decidedly low key, a 350 limit and not really in Droitwich, as it barely skirts the outside.
The race HQ is at a rather bemused golf course, where there is no parking due to the weather. So the runners are bussed in from the town centre. This wasn't an option with dogs, so we parked roadside. As did many others but at least we parked well away from the race start on a side road and didn't block the buses or the run route, as others did.
The race route itself was very rural and very dull. Highlights were a thatched cottage, a ford that we skirted around and one country pub, which wasn’t open. Dull though is fine, as it gave me the chance to zone out and concentrate on my injuries or more specifically, not aggravating those injuries.
It was also mainly flat but with two quite steep downhills, which is odd, as I don't remember the ups, so they must have been slight or I must really have been zoned out.
My fitness ran out, as expected, at around 5 miles but the calves felt good, which was my main concern. The foam roller I purchased as chief masseur, in the absence of a real live one, did its job. Who needs some dinky sexy physioette with iron thumbs, not me...
The injured knee was sore, as expected, but nothing too spectacular, so that was good too. The blisters though, were something else. This was expected too. Forced into selecting long socks for calf compression, I have yet to find any that are double skinned for blister protection. Oh, and of course, everything else aches. As I say, general fitness ran out at around 5 miles but I slogged round and proved a point to my body.
Afterwards the organisers have a little laugh by placing the race t-shirts and the post run sandwiches upstairs. I grab a friendly looking female arm, L’s, to help me up the stairs.
She even drives me home, where we embark on a great night out. Nights out are always better after a bit of half marathon madness. It helps that they had decent ale in the Hand And Heart, Burton Bridge’s Stairway and something strong and dark from Ilkeston’s North Star Brewery.
Then we take in a decent Moroccan meal in the deserted, apart from for us, Marrakesh restaurant.
(Sunday 3rd March)