Back at the start of the year, my sister started running regularly. I’ve been running on and off for about eight years, and even done a few races, including a couple of half marathons and a triathlon. I’d been going to the local parkrun before my operation at Christmas, and early this year I was trying to build up again, and we started exchanging running stories.
Then my sister did a 5k, and beat my best 5k time by several minutes. I wasn’t impressed.
She signed up for a 10k, and invited me along too, but I was off having adventures at the seaside. We started looking for a race we could do together.
Which somehow led to us signing up for the Chester Marathon in October.
Now, I don’t really class myself as a runner. Yes, I’ve been part of an online running forum for years, and have stood and cheered many running friends in at the end of races. I know a fair bit about running. But I’m slow, very slow. I walk a lot, look at the scenery, stop to take photographs, and am generally idle and not living up to my potential. Sometimes I even pop into the sweet shop on the way round.
All of those races I mentioned above? I was right at the back, within the last 5 people (out of thousands), and in several cases (including the triathlon) I was actually the last person. In one of the half marathons, I was just feet in front of the sweeper bus for the last few miles (surprisingly, that wasn’t the half marathon where I popped into the newsagents for jelly babies – although I believe I was last in that one too).
I’m starting to have some slight misgivings about the whole thing.
But in the meantime, it’s giving me plenty of opportunity to amble around the lanes and fields, taking in the scenery, watching the wildlife and appreciating the sunset.
Yes, I usually take my camera, especially on a long run. I’m sure I’d be faster if I didn’t, but really, where’s the fun in that?