So today was the day after a successful night. I catered a dinner party for seven (including me), which for anyone that knows me, will realise what a huge thing that is. I cooked three courses, didn't poison anyone (that I've heard) and I kept all the mess contained to the kitchen. I even stopped drinking around 10pm so that I could rehydrate enough to attend my ninth parkrun at Hampstead Heath this morning. With one charity run left in September, I really needed to be back on course with the training.
So, I got up early, did the washing up, checked emails and left for the run. Thankfully temperatures were much lower than two weeks ago when I went, and I was thinking maybe I could start creeping back towards the 29.40 times I was sporting a few months ago.
Amazingly when I got there they said new for this week they had a 30 minute pacer. Awesome. I thought I would keep her in my sights and try and get as close to that 30 minute mark that had been alluding me for weeks.
So the whole of the race she's behind me, and I'm thinking I'm on fire. Boo ya! And other self congratulatory things. I quite happily followed 'grey t-shirt guy' for about 4.5kms then ambled up the hill to the finish, which I must point out is an evil uphill, followed by a final killer incline and then finally a downhill to the finish. And I'm over the moon because I'm thinking I'm under 30 minutes. Whoop!
So as I struggle up the final killer incline, right on my shoulder is 30 minute lady. I turned to her and screamed, NO! And she encouraged me past her. I somehow found the strength to sprint to the finish, out of breath, beetroot red, but finishing before the 30 minute lady. Well chuffed!
I even had a conversation with 'grey t-shirt guy', which is good for me. The social side of the event doesn't come naturally to me. But I set off home wearing a chufty badge and thinking I'd done my fastest time since they changed the course from route A to route B.
Well, imagine my surprise an hour and a half later, when my result says 30.28. Say what? I finished in front of the frickin' pacer and by a good few seconds. So it seems they hired a pacer, who not only can't pace, but also can't time herself. And so many people will think they did better than they actually did because of that.
I just don't understand. Either the timers are wrong, or the pacer is wrong, or the 30 minute mark is feckin' laughing at me, pulling it's tongue out saying I'll never re-claim it.
I think from now on, I'm going to ignore anyone who says pacer, and time myself on my Ipod, or get a new watch or something, because that today was bloody bullshit. Not happy.
LIES. ALL LIES!
Little addition: Annoyingly, I would have been well happy with 30.28 if you'd told me I would run that this morning, but when you're given the illusion that you've run over 30 seconds faster, that time is a smack in the face.