It's now 48 hours since I did my 18 miler and I'm not suffering quite as much as I was after the 12 and 13 milers of a few weeks back, so that's something I suppose.
It's funny. I wonder if it's like childbirth, in that once it's over you forget the pain. I look back on it now, 2 days later and it doesn't actually seem that bad in my memory. Yet I know that it hurt, especially the first six miles and the last three. But now I'm thinking ... it was ok.
I did get 'heckled' though - twice! First was after 16 miles. I was shattered and just happened to be running back on the beach road at the precise moment that the annual Children's Parade descended onto the promenade from East Street.
I had to slow right down and weave in and out of giant floats, children in fancy dress, men on stilts, giant walking cupcakes, huge metal fish and hundreds of bongo players (my pet Brighton hate).
Just as I was making my way out of the throng a girl of about 18 walked past with her mum and said 'God that girl's running so slowly she might as well walk'. She probably thought I couldn't hear her but my iPod had just run out of battery. Normally that kind of comment wouldn't bother me in the slightest but for some reason it made my blood boil with rage and I just spat at her 'I'VE ALREADY RUN 16 MILES!!' I just couldn't stop myself.
Then a sweet little old lady said "Come on dear, knees up, knees up" as I was literally about 100 metres from the end and nearly dead. I managed to force a smile.
I do get a lot of funny looks, it has to be said. I'm pretty sure it's because I run so slowly. But really. I couldn't give a flying fuck.
Finally got to G's just after kick-off and watched the rest of the game after downing three pints of fruit juice and water and icing my poor old knees. We won 3-0! So it was all worth it.
It's funny. I wonder if it's like childbirth, in that once it's over you forget the pain. I look back on it now, 2 days later and it doesn't actually seem that bad in my memory. Yet I know that it hurt, especially the first six miles and the last three. But now I'm thinking ... it was ok.
I did get 'heckled' though - twice! First was after 16 miles. I was shattered and just happened to be running back on the beach road at the precise moment that the annual Children's Parade descended onto the promenade from East Street.
I had to slow right down and weave in and out of giant floats, children in fancy dress, men on stilts, giant walking cupcakes, huge metal fish and hundreds of bongo players (my pet Brighton hate).
Just as I was making my way out of the throng a girl of about 18 walked past with her mum and said 'God that girl's running so slowly she might as well walk'. She probably thought I couldn't hear her but my iPod had just run out of battery. Normally that kind of comment wouldn't bother me in the slightest but for some reason it made my blood boil with rage and I just spat at her 'I'VE ALREADY RUN 16 MILES!!' I just couldn't stop myself.
Then a sweet little old lady said "Come on dear, knees up, knees up" as I was literally about 100 metres from the end and nearly dead. I managed to force a smile.
I do get a lot of funny looks, it has to be said. I'm pretty sure it's because I run so slowly. But really. I couldn't give a flying fuck.
Finally got to G's just after kick-off and watched the rest of the game after downing three pints of fruit juice and water and icing my poor old knees. We won 3-0! So it was all worth it.
posted by Rab at 7:01 AM
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