204. City to Surf

I am not built to run. I think that it’s pretty obvious when you look at me that I’ve never really run anywhere in my entire life except to the bottle shop at 21:59 when it’s about to close. However, Isla does run and she wanted to do Sydney’s famous 14km fun run (from the City centre to Bondi Beach) and for some reason I thought “Hey, I can do that,” so signed up with her.

The night before the race I had feelings somewhat akin to sitting in a dentists waiting room knowing that you need root canal treatment but not knowing what exactly root canal treatment is. That feeling didn’t leave me and at 5am I was up pacing, fretting about how little training I’d done (I’d never run more that 11km and that was on a machine), worrying about how much water to drink and whether or not to have a big breakfast, etc. I settled on a litre and half of water and a snickers which I’m sure wasn’t sensible (bananas I hear you say!).

Before I knew it the tow of us were standing in College St in the CBD stretching with 64,000 other runners desperately trying to hold in the pee that I now needed. The chaps on the tannoy announced that we would be starting soon and the churning in my guts was like the time 10 years ago when I stood outside the ring waiting to get my head kicked in during a Shorinji Kempo tournament in Southampton. Only this time any pain I was to suffer was going to be my own fault as a result of almost no training and spending the last 2 weeks in Queensland eating and drinking as hard as I was able.

The horn went and we were off. I think we must have spent the first 15 minutes or so walking as there were so many “competitors” (far too many out for a Sunday stroll) that is was impossible to get a good tempo up. All too soon, however, I was jogging and despite a few hills, strollers, grannies and fatties (of which I was one) things seemed to be going fine – although Isla had left me for dust after about 5 minutes. The first few km went past without any real issues but then I reached “Heartbreak Hill” which marked the 6 – 7km mark. I tried to run it but it didn’t take long to realise that I was actually faster walking the hill than shuffling up it.

By 9km I had to stop for a pee break which shouldn’t have added that much time to my run except that I had to wait outside the porta-loos for 5 or so minutes till one became available. A few mouthfuls of Gatorade and I was back on the road which was essentially all down hill from that point. It should have been a breeze but the cramp in my right calf at 11km and then my left calf at 12km made the last few thousand metres really difficult despite the sea air blowing in from Bondi encouraging everyone to the Finish line.

Within minutes I saw the red “Finish” banner ahead of me and that spurred me on. Crossing the line was one of the most euphoric feelings ever. Having never run in an organised race before and also having run the furthest I’ve ever run was overwhelming and I think it would be hard to beat that emotion. I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m in another race – and am already thinking of signing up for the “Bridge Run” in September.

If you are interested – my time was 1 hour 52 minutes 22 sec (bloody shocking!).