Post by wightvixen on Oct 29, 2012 9:21:41 GMT
Yesterday dawned overcast, but mercifully the strong wind from the day before had dropped. Somehow, OH, son, and I managed to get ourselves out at the right time after the clocks had gone back and we boarded the 8.35 train. By the time we got to Fareham the train was heaving, and my planned trip to the loo shortly after getting off had to be cancelled as it was just not possible to get to it.
We got off at Fratton with what seemed like a million other people, and found that it had started drizzling. We walked for about 25 minutes to Southsea Common which was a seething mass of people in running gear and odd costumes. My husband had forgotten his camera (doh!) so he took a few pictures of my son and I with my mobile phone. It was to be my son's first ever race. He's been running for fitness for about 18 months.
After putting on our race numbers and timing chips we joined the massive queue for the bag drop in the Pyramids Centre. The queue for the ladies loo in there was almost literally a mile long, and there was no way I was going to make it before we had to join the start. The men's was queue-free as usual. So unfair!
Outside again I found some portaloos but the queues there were just as bad, and it was time for our wave to set off, so I had to resign myself to running the race with a slightly uncomfortable bladder.
A few minutes later, after a slow shuffle to the start line we were off! The plan was to try and run at slightly faster than 10 minute mile pace with a view to finishing in under 1:40, my previous 10 mile best. My son was planning to keep pace with me for the first 7 miles or so, then run on ahead if he could manage it, but knee niggles had prevented him from running more than about 5 miles for a while, so this plan was subject to change. After a few checks of the garmin during the first mile or so, we settled into a decent pace to achieve our goal.
I've never seen so many discarded running gloves littering a race course before. If somebody had collected them up and given them a wash, they could have opened a shop!
The first drink stop came at about 3 miles, and I eyed up the portaloos whistfully, but decided that I wasn't going to compromise my race time by being a wimp. Unbeknownst to me until after the race, my son managed to slightly twist his dodgy knee while ducking sideways to grab a bottle of water at this first stop, and spent the rest of the run in some discomfort.
The crowds were amazing. As a Southampton resident I sometimes take a jaundiced view of Portsmouth (don't mention the football!), but I have to admit that they put on their best show, and made the world feel welcome.
Everything went pretty smoothly until mile 8, until I hit a mini-wall. Probably my own fault, on training runs of 8 miles plus I usually take a few jelly babies and scoff one every couple of miles. I had some with me, but had been unwilling to slow down to fish one out of my pouch, and whether the effects of not having them was physical or psychological, I was now paying the price. I started to slow down a fair bit, but as luck would have it, we then passed a jelly baby station, and my son grabbed a handful for us to share. That was the boost I needed, and the appearance of the 9 mile marker didn't hurt either.
The end was almost in sight, the crowds were cheering us on, and the last 800m was the longest 800m I've ever run! At 200m my son managed a burst of speed, and took off to finish 6 seconds ahead of me. My official time was 1:38:48, so job done
FINALLY, after collecting our goody bags, I made it to the loo. What a relief!
I was slightly miffed to discover later that my goody bag was missing it's medal
but as medals go, they looked pretty rubbish, so I won't be losing any sleep over it. The important thing is that my son got one to mark his first race, which knee notwithstanding, he thoroughly enjoyed.
All in all, a good day
We got off at Fratton with what seemed like a million other people, and found that it had started drizzling. We walked for about 25 minutes to Southsea Common which was a seething mass of people in running gear and odd costumes. My husband had forgotten his camera (doh!) so he took a few pictures of my son and I with my mobile phone. It was to be my son's first ever race. He's been running for fitness for about 18 months.
After putting on our race numbers and timing chips we joined the massive queue for the bag drop in the Pyramids Centre. The queue for the ladies loo in there was almost literally a mile long, and there was no way I was going to make it before we had to join the start. The men's was queue-free as usual. So unfair!
Outside again I found some portaloos but the queues there were just as bad, and it was time for our wave to set off, so I had to resign myself to running the race with a slightly uncomfortable bladder.
A few minutes later, after a slow shuffle to the start line we were off! The plan was to try and run at slightly faster than 10 minute mile pace with a view to finishing in under 1:40, my previous 10 mile best. My son was planning to keep pace with me for the first 7 miles or so, then run on ahead if he could manage it, but knee niggles had prevented him from running more than about 5 miles for a while, so this plan was subject to change. After a few checks of the garmin during the first mile or so, we settled into a decent pace to achieve our goal.
I've never seen so many discarded running gloves littering a race course before. If somebody had collected them up and given them a wash, they could have opened a shop!
The first drink stop came at about 3 miles, and I eyed up the portaloos whistfully, but decided that I wasn't going to compromise my race time by being a wimp. Unbeknownst to me until after the race, my son managed to slightly twist his dodgy knee while ducking sideways to grab a bottle of water at this first stop, and spent the rest of the run in some discomfort.
The crowds were amazing. As a Southampton resident I sometimes take a jaundiced view of Portsmouth (don't mention the football!), but I have to admit that they put on their best show, and made the world feel welcome.
Everything went pretty smoothly until mile 8, until I hit a mini-wall. Probably my own fault, on training runs of 8 miles plus I usually take a few jelly babies and scoff one every couple of miles. I had some with me, but had been unwilling to slow down to fish one out of my pouch, and whether the effects of not having them was physical or psychological, I was now paying the price. I started to slow down a fair bit, but as luck would have it, we then passed a jelly baby station, and my son grabbed a handful for us to share. That was the boost I needed, and the appearance of the 9 mile marker didn't hurt either.
The end was almost in sight, the crowds were cheering us on, and the last 800m was the longest 800m I've ever run! At 200m my son managed a burst of speed, and took off to finish 6 seconds ahead of me. My official time was 1:38:48, so job done
FINALLY, after collecting our goody bags, I made it to the loo. What a relief!
I was slightly miffed to discover later that my goody bag was missing it's medal
but as medals go, they looked pretty rubbish, so I won't be losing any sleep over it. The important thing is that my son got one to mark his first race, which knee notwithstanding, he thoroughly enjoyed.All in all, a good day
