23 Minutes

I meant to run back from work yesterday. My boss dragged me to the pub. This morning I was still quite beery but decided to do park run.

I arrive and there is a pacer doing 23:00. My pb is 22:59. I am currently exploring the concepts around the fact you run faster in a group. So if I run with the pacer and was in shape I could do a PB (If I didn't reek of booze from the night before)

At the start I zoom off. In front I spot Duncan(Barefoot guru) and he has some new running shoes. I say "running shoes", think minimal footwear. I am interested, but he's too fast for me, and I can't catch him up. I'll have to wait for the post race coffee.

I'm feeling good and flow. 3/4 of the way round I'm starting to struggle. But here's the thing: the 23 pacer still hasn't taken me. The beer-fug starts to hit home and I feel like quiting. But still no pacer. I am ahead of 23:00 pace. The pacer had promised me he runs an even pace.

Suddenly on the second to last turn, he passes me.
"Not you!" I exclaim.
But he encourages me. So I go. On the final straight he says "50 seconds" to get under 23 minutes. It seems miles to the finish. But I remember the Reading Half Marathon. The finish is always close than you think. So I keep going.

The pacer starts encouraging me so I push. Full race-sprint-mode. I cross the finish and whack the stop button. 22:55 and a bit. I'm ecstatic and thrust my arms in the air.

I bore everyone senseless with the details of the run at the post race coffee. All day I wait for the post race email. It never arrives. Eventually I send an email to the Park Run team.

22:56 5km (PB)