Today was horrid and contrary from the moment I opened my eyes. From breakfast to my driving lesson to work to the race, I spent the whole day feeling crappy.
By the time I got home and changed and had eaten 3 handfuls of cocoa pops under coach James’ instructions, it was more than time to get on the road to walk to Prince’s Park. I rushed and rushed and realised that I wasn’t going to make it to the registration tent in time so dumped my stuff on James and ran the last stretch. I fumbled endlessly with my chip and bib and made it to the start line just as James ambled up, a couple of minutes before the race started.
I then discovered one of my earphones was missing its rubber protection; this distracted me and I forgot to turn on my GPS tracker for ages, which meant I had no idea what my pace was for a huge chunk of the time. I was also sorely distracted by the surrounding hordes of stumbling, puffing people around me, as this gave me the impression I was going too fast and I kept slowing down, remembering ill-fated advice from the guys at work about “preserving my energy”.
To be honest it’s exactly the time I should expect — same pace as my last run, and it was neither unbearably hard nor did I put in a huge amount of effort. But I didn’t enjoy it the way I normally enjoy my runs. Plus we got drenched walking back in the rain. By the time I’d showered I was a limp, nauseous rag-doll, and all I wanted to do was cry in bed (which is how I’ve felt most of the last week anyway).
Best part of the day was probably conning James into reading Anna Karenina to me. I wish I wasn’t working tomorrow; alas, it’s Back in the Jug Agane (chiz chiz), so I will gladly go to sleep now and hopefully wake up in a better mood!