Official time: 1:24:56 (PB)
99th finisher (out of 333)
Medal: None, unless you’re crazy-fast (but we did all get a t-shirt and goody bag)
First race of the year, first PB of the year (by default, but totally still counts), and first 10 mile race – such excitement! At least excitement is what I expected to feel this morning, until I gazed out of my window upon the delightful Scottish weather. Here is a shot from the inside of the car, on the way to Arbroath, just before we passed the road information sign announcing: Snow forecast. Terrific.
Luckily, when we arrived it had stopped bucketing rain from the sky, but it had not stopped being totally freezing. I was very glad I wore the long running tights.
Anyway, The crowd was friendly and I had some good chat before the race, and picked up some handy information. For example, it was good to know there would be a hilly start, with a down hilly second half before I set off, or I may have ended myself at mile 3.
I’m a fan of summarizing, so I’ll keep the overall ‘Race Report’ short and sweet by breaking it down into defining thoughts per mile.
Mile 1: Glad I brought my gloves, it is freeeeee-what the hell, how can she wear just a singlet and micro mini shorts? Oh, we’ve started, bring it, hill, I’ll destroy you. Holy shit, check my pace! That’s a 7! I am AWESOME!
Mile 2: My pace is still awesome. I am slightly concerned I will suffer for this pace later on in the race. Pffffft! Whatever. I am AWESOME!
Mile 3: OH MY GOD, I AM SO SORRY HILL, I DIDN’T MEAN IT, YOU WIN, PLEASE, PLEASE JUST END.
Mile 4: I recovered like a pro after that hill – BOOM! Still a decent pace. Damn my hands are sweaty. I’ll take off the gloves. Hmm, where do I put the gloves? Stuff into bra? That’s some sweet thinking on your feet, Rachel. I am AWESOME!
Mile 5: Shit, that guy just took a photo with a super-professional looking camera and I have gloves stuffed into my bra. I’m going to look like I have a growth on my chest in every single race photo. Should I move them? Nah, best not to look like I have a dong instead. Smart thinking, baby, you’re on top!
Mile 6: Shouldn’t have tried to drink out of the plastic cup, I am freaking soaking. Hey! We’re going downhill! WooooOOoooOooOOOOOoOOOoooOOO!! Check my pace. I am AWESOME!
Mile 7: I want to die.
Mile 8: I’m a fucking idiot for signing up to this. Why did I sign up to this? My underwear is chaffing my vagina. How does that even happen?! My shower is going to sting, hardcore. This is shit.
Mile 9: So close. Please don’t die. Keep going. Wait, why am I listening to PJ Harvey? This is not uplifting at all! Ah, here we are, some relaxing System of a Down. Lovely.
Mile 10: Chaffing is worse than cancer and AIDS and world hunger, I will never enjoy sex again, where the shit is the finish line? Wait, is that the sports centre? Oh thank fuck, it’s over.
So as you can tell, I thoroughly enjoyed myself and am totally not regretting the Half Marathon in Inverness next weekend. At all. But knowing that if I stick to today’s pace I can make it in under 2 hours is pretty groovy indeed. And the goody bag? Well, who can complain when they give you booze at the end of a run?
To everyone that gave gel advice – thanks! Unfortunately my stomach has been really weird all day, so I just stuck to Gatorade and dried fruit, and am still not feeling totally right. I will definitely try a gel or two next weekend though. After my Mile 7 lull today I think I’ll need it!
Oh and the weather cleared after the race. We visited some of my boyfriend’s relatives for lunch, then met a friend for a quick visit before heading home to some typical Scottish views: