March 20th
New Forest ‘Festival’ 20 mile run – there are two lies in this; first not a festival, more a trial, and secondly it is not 20 miles, it is 21 miles and trust me every mile counts!
On March 19th I had a sports massage (important to add the word ‘sport’ lest an alternative connotation applied!) at which Helen told me how she ran the 10k (6.2 mile) New Forest run a year ago and how horrific it was – many hills. I listened politely making the odd groan (of pain not pleasure – this massage has no ‘happy ending’) as an elbow is used to exert maximum pain on a ‘quad’ or a ‘calf’ and then pointed out Helen is 40% younger me, ran less than one-third of what I am due to run and is a super-fit personal trainer. Never mind thinks I ‘Elf and Safety’ will have a St John’s Ambulance for me … little did I know.
Palm Sunday arrives, on this day about 2000 years ago, Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey. Instead Sarah very kindly gave us a lift to the New Forest in a Kia – rather more comfortable but not only did I see a donkey in the New Forest but Jesus was running! Clare told me all about Jesus, the New Forest ‘Festival’ is a two-day affair and Clare had ran 50 kilometres yesterday and whilst on the run had a chat with Jesus an “ultra” runner – well one would expect no less. So the run begins, two loops of 10 (and the important one-half) miles and the first lap is ‘ok’, on the second lap it begins to get tough but I dug deep into my resources (aided by jelly babies and banana and remember the Five Commandments brought down from on high (New Energy Fitness) by Clare to “Breathe” (pretty obvious), “keep your feet up” (well if you don’t it is quite difficult to make any forward progress, shuffling does not really work) “Head up” (so as not to cry one’s eyes out at the screaming pain in one’s feet), “Shoulders down” (humility I suppose) and “Enjoy” (This one really annoys me and is the most easily broken). At about 15 miles I meet Jesus, I know it is him because he runs bare feet in sandals , has spindly legs and has super human powers. But he forsook me. At this point I look for St John’s (Ambulance) but St John had also forsaken me and my powers are drained. There is only one thing for it, to rely on the devil (much more fun anyway) and he came to my rescue in a dark hour of need putting fire into every joint of my body, a burning, searing agonisingly painful fire. I went to the depths of my soul to keep going, the ravens (to others birds of ill omen) which occasionally flew overhead were to me a support and so I somehow in 3 hours and 49 minutes made it to what might look to others to be a finishing line but to me was the welcoming gates of hell.
Saint Clare was there at the end and, the first and only time, I broke my resolution was ‘baptised’ with really welcome, very large (for sharing but stuff that!) gin and tonic – fantastic!
“Finished” more like!