It was fun - I got up early, puttered around, ate an impractical breakfast (note to self: anything with milk in it is a Bad Idea before running. Lactose = bad news. Well - lactose is always bad news, actually, but I'm out of crumpets again), and ran off to hop on the metro and ride all the way across town.
I was there by nine, I think, so I had ample time to pick up my t-shirt and racing bib and wander around (and watch the kids' races).
I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about running with people... I mean, I carry on a lot of conversations when I run, but those conversations are generally with myself, you know? But luckily I rather enjoyed it - first of all, it's harder to justify taking a walking break when everyone around you is still running; second, it's nice to be able to commiserate when you realise that half of mile three is a ginormous hill. Oddly, or perhaps not, most of the people I talked to were either rather elderly or burly, tattooed men. I am not sure what this means, but for whatever reason it doesn't surprise me.
Timing-wise... well, I try not to time myself when I run, just because I know myself and I know that if I start worrying about personal records and running faster then I will drive myself crazy. For that reason I think I'll leave my actual time off this blog, although I will say that I had a ballpark estimate going in and I ran about as fast as I'd expected. A bit faster, actually, which I think is partly because I got off to a fast start (the beginning of the course was downhill) and partly because, well, I was caught up in running with people and trying to pass people. Plus, I killed the last hundred yards or so, which was fun. I am not fast, but I can pull out a mean sprint to the finish.
You know, I'm still not entirely sure that I actually like running (I definitely like the beginning, I definitely like the end. It's the beginning that gives me pause), but... hey. Racing was fun :)
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