I was extremely excited, but nervous at the same time. I had never run a race that was so out of my comfort zone. The farthest from home that I've done a race was in Savannah, but that was still in my home state and I had been there once before to visit the city so I somewhat knew the terrain. This race was situated in Northumberland. It is called the "Border County" because it basically stretches from just north of where we live to the border of Scotland. It is known for it's undeveloped wilderness and moors and is now largely protected as a National Park. It is the most sparsely populated county in England with only 62 people per square kilometer. I believe I passed more sheep on my run than people that were in the race. I almost hopped a fence to hug one...they're so darn cute. And the just born babies that were frolicking about all fresh and bright white? So sweet!
Anyhow, I had twisted my ankle a week before the race. Why I'm such a klutz I do not know. But I stopped running at that point and never got my final training runs in. I'm a stickler for a schedule, so missing a few days threw me off. Then I got a chest cold which made it hard to keep my breathing stable. Steve said I should reconsider doing the race seeing as I have another half marathon coming up in Edinburgh next month and he didn't want me to get so sick and miss out on that one because we plan on making a vacation out of it. But I decided to forge ahead as planned.
The race started and ended in the village of Wallington. From what I saw on the run, the village really only consists of a mansion and clock tower. But I guess this far out in the country that's all it takes to make a town. At the heart of this village, is a 320-year-old Palladian mansion once owned by the Trevelyan family. The race finished just under the clock tower. The estate is now owned by the National Trust, so the gardens and property are open for viewing. Walking through the woods you can see the endangered Red Squirrels of the region. They do a lot to protect the Red Squirrels here. Funny seeing how back in Atlanta the grey ones are all over the place and you wouldn't think twice if you accidentally smacked one with your car.
A few days before the race I received my bib and instruction sheet in the mail. The instructions clearly said "No headphones or MP3 players allowed...anyone seen with one will not be recorded in the results or be eligible for prizes." Well, I'm not fast enough to worry about the prize part (the winner completed it lightning fast in 1:13:29) but I did want my results recorded; however slow they might be. Unless I'm running with someone to keep me company, I need my music. And everyone knows I've been struggling with finding someone to run with over here so my music has become my company. So I decided to be a bit cheeky and tuck my headphones under the straps of my sports bra and just turn the music up real loud so I could hear it through my shirt. What can I say....I'm a rule breaker. But the thought of being caught with them deterred me from even turning them on. Besides, with headphones in my ears how could I hear the following conversation between two runners during the race..."Blimey, there are a lot of bloody hills on this race!" "Aye, there are." I think I might need to get that printed on a race shirt or something. Classic.
The first thing I noticed getting from the parking area to the clock tower was that I seemed to be one of only a few runners wearing a hat or visor; and a racing one at that. I also appeared to be the only person wearing a technical shirt from another race. I found that interesting for some reason. Wearing my Ironman baseball cap and Savannah shirt, I sure felt like the odd man out. On a side note, I have not seen any cars with stickers or magnets advertising a "13.1" or "26.2". Maybe people here find that bragging or unnecessary? I'm not really sure. So, just in case, mine are still packed away...don't want to offend my host country!
The race had 680 runners. Tiny compared to the ones I ran in the States. No expo, no music being blasted over loudspeakers and no timing chips. So after the start, in which the race director shot off what looked and sounded like an actual loaded gun, the pack quickly cleared out. There was no need to run around people jockeying for a better position but I also couldn't take my time in the crowd to warm up to a nice pace like I usually do. I quickly found myself running faster than I should have at that point. I thought I'd better slow down if I wanted to make it to the finish with my lungs still in my chest. But oddly enough, my breathing was normal and better yet I felt sure footed on my ankle. Within a couple of miles I zoned out, thought of my running friends and hit race pace. I did make sure to take it all in though. For the race would've meant nothing if I didn't take a moment every so often to think about where I was and what I was doing. Little old me...running the English countryside in a half marathon. Who would've thought.
The finish couldn't have come soon enough though. I was done. "Stick a fork in me" kind of done. It was warm, mid 60's and hilly beyond what I was ever used to back home. The ending was the best part though. As we all funneled into the chute right after the finish clock, waiting for our numbers to be recorded, everyone shook hands to the runner in front of them and behind them wishing them "congratulations" and "job well done, mate." I was totally caught off guard. Were they doing this because the race was so small that it had a family feel or is that just the English way? Well, there's only one way to find out...I guess I'll just have to sign up for more races!
 |
| 29th in my age group out of 102 |
No comments:
Post a Comment