I am Juneathoning today, just not until this evening when I do the Crisis Square Mile Run. I’ll try and blog it when I get home so, until then, just hold your horses.
That has got to be the weirdest race I have ever run. First of all Hector and I rolled up at Paternoster Square to register and wait for Edward to come over from work and I felt like an imposter (or should that ‘impatinoster’?). We were surrounded by city types, groups of people from banks and law firms and the like all running in groups with their colleagues, and there I was running around after Hector and sitting on the ground while he did wheelies and endos with his Playmobile motorbike!
When Edward turned up we did some more running around and climbing of steps and stone benches.
I put on my lovely Crisis Square Mile red t-shirt and felt like one of the crowd.
So, back to this weirdy race. The boys headed off to play in the church yard of St Pauls and I found my place in the pens. It was really rather civilised, everyone very polite and chatty. At seven we were off and I enjoyed the pumping music (can’t remember what it was now) that saw us out of the square. Pretty soon we were heading down to the Thames…down the steps next to the Millennium Footbridge. There were many points in this race where I thought ‘this is bonkers’ and this was definitely one of them.
We ran along narrow paths, under bridges, up and down steps and across roads, all whilst negotiating a space through daudling pedestrians and weaving in and out of cycle commuters and the odd taxi. Very, very strange. When we weren’t squeezing through a tight gap, I was running at quite a pace, feeling like I might get a 5k PB, but it was often hard to tell as my Garmin really struggled to find a signal. As we reached our turing point near the London Eye, I picked up the pace once more, feeling a bit of space around me and soon we were heading over Blackfriars Bridge and passing the 3 mile marker. Just a minute. The 3 mile marker?! I thought this was a 5k?! Oh no, I looked around and could see that we had to get back over the river via Southwark Bridge to come back across again to finish at the Millennium Footbridge. I realised it was a 5 mile race, not 5k. At this point I slowed right down, I felt really sad.
I had been running at what felt like a really good pace until now but really couldn’t keep that up for five miles, but things improved when the Tate came into view and I avoided being tripped up by the steps and cobbles and sightseers outside the Globe Theatre. Off I trotted towards St Pauls, trying to speed up a bit, but realising it wasn’t 5 miles, so what distance was it? How odd. I could see a clock at the end so ran a bit faster to cross the line under 40 minutes. I grabbed my goodie bag and headed over to meet the boys at Pizza Express. I felt quite nauseous as I gulped down the luke warm strawberry ‘For Goodness Shake’ and also felt confused and a bit disappointed.
Nothing a good dinner couldn’t fix. We sat and chomped our garlic doughballs and I told Edward that I came in at 39 minutes and he said ‘You mean 29 minutes?’ ‘Er, no, 39’.
Juneathon Day 4
Distance: 3.77 miles
Average Pace: 10.17
Best Pace: 5.24
Who can say what that was all about?!