Glasgow Half Marathon and 10k 4/9/05Glasgow was brimful of runners. Apparently over 15,000 people turned up for the 10k and Half. And the streets were awash with them. The event had a Big City Marathon feel to it with tv cameras and a helicopter overhead. Having heard the course was flat and fast I had ideas about breaking 1.20. It was pleasantly balmy for hanging around in vest and shorts but sadly a bit warm for running.
We arrived off the train and navigated through the crowds already gathered at the race start to make our way to Glasgow Green where there was a changing area and we could dump our stuff. Made our way back to the start where we managed to hook up with Gerry, Janet and Willie. Saw Ben over the other side of the start line.(His wife, Alison, opted to do the 10k.) After a bit of preamble the wheelchair racers were off and a couple of minutes later so were we. There was
some bunching at the start but quickly those at the front left room for the mere mortals to follow in their wake. I saw Ben up ahead and feeling bullish on account of the pre-race coffee decided to catch him up. We soared up and over Kingston Bridge and the sun got brighter. Just before the first water station I pulled ahead of Ben, just to let him know I was there, then dropped back as I didn't want to push too hard too soon. The course was excellent - fairly flat with gentle rises and falls, few long drags and a couple of pleasant parks to run through. Only it got hotter and hotter. Squinting to keep out the sun I kind of focussed on the road and trying to keep ahead of 6 minute miles. Only I hadn't seen any markers and had no idea of how far we had gone.
The sun and the pace made me lose the place somewhat and I thought we must be well into the final few miles. We pulled into a park and I looked at my watch expecting to see an hour elapsed. 38 minutes. Yikes. I happened to see a slug making from one side of the path to the other. It was half way across and in trouble. Thanks for the pretty metaphor. I was fading. And thirsty. There were 2 water stops early on and then 4½ miles of dry-mouthed urban desert. Cut to a desert movie where the camera pans up to the unrelenting sun and a circling vulture. Then bizarrely a Mariachi Band materialises and I imagine them offering bottles of hot chilli-pepper sauce, “Put some fire in your belly Gringo...” And drummers and a huge banner saying 7 miles. I am under 42 mins but alar
med that I might have missed 6 previous banners that size. I run for another eternity through this green desert, and there is the mile 8 banner, equally huge. I am over 48 mins by 4 seconds and I feel I am at the start of the end. It is the last marker I see until mile 12. Back out the park and onto the roads. Going from shade to direct sun feels bad. Back in the shade of a building and the pace picks up almost immediately. I look to see where the shadows fall. Several people run alongside but I am in my own hot world. Ros Alexander has been just behind for some time then about 54 mins she goes past. I have the sinking feeling that Ros represents that sub 1.20 pace and I inwardly say bye-bye as she opens up a gradual but increasing gap.
Meanwhile both my big toes have been busy developing blisters. In the pursuit of speed I am wearing new shoes, a new haircut (thank you Janet) and racing socks instead of comfort socks. The shoes and socks are breaking-in my feet. The haircut is a success though. Allowing direct skin to air evaporation. No hair hat. And was that mirage really a freelance water station manned by brightly dressed Sikhs? Fabulous.
In the distance is Ros and 1.20. Finally after a long, long time I reach the mile 12 marker. I look at my watch and see 1.13.56. A six minute mile - I could maybe still do it? Just as I pick up the pace I remember it's a mile and then some. My stupid baked head still thinks it might be possible so I make my legs flap a bit quicker as the route goes alongside the river. I go past peopl
e and others go past me. Ros remains resolutely far away. Is she maybe gaining? It's a long mile. I try to imagine what it will be like to stop in a few minutes time, fishing past the heavy medal and other luckies to find the bottle of water and.....
We're going into the park; this is the park we were in hours ago isn't it? And I can hear a man on a loud-hailer and a crowd cheering; thank goodness. I use the last of my dylithium crystals to sprint towards the lovely man who reads out my name and then, oh horror, there's a corner and another 100 yards to the finish. But you promised I was done Mr. Microphone. When will it stop? And my eyes spy the finish and a clock that has already reached 1.20 and is unsympathetically well on its way to 1.21. I don't care that 2 lads sprint past in the last few yards, I have nothing left. A nice lady helps me off with my championchip.
Never mind there's a nice hot cup of tea or coffee waiting for you just past the line. WHAT?
Ben Kemp 1.18.35
(Rosalyn Alexander 1.20.03)
Peter Buchanan 1.20.54
Gerry Scullion 1.22.12
Willie Jarvie 1.24.35
Janet Laing 1.26.47
Scott Jarvie 1.29.40
Shelagh McLeish 1.43.03
Alan Aitchison 1.45.44
Mary Hunter 1.45.59
Karen Munro 1.56.51
Sandra Murray 2.03.33
Louise Patience 2.09.24
Claudia Davies 2.16.50
Louise Kay 2.25.2010k - Alison Wilkie (Mrs. Kemp) 56.56
Let me know if I've missed anyone - I think there may be a missing Trish? Or if anyone has additional photos?
report Peter Buchanan, photos Peter Buchanan, Alison Wilkie, Claudia Davies
