Woke up nursing an almighty hangover & of course there was only one logical course of action - run a 10k road race! My calf was still sore and I was considering the idea of taking another day off but in the end I decided that I wouldn't be in the form to do anything fast on Monday & as there was a road race on in a local village I decided to give it a lash. I also knew that the chances of there being a quality field present were slim so could maybe get a sneaky win all going well.
Did a brief warm up and leg wasn't too bad. There was only a few others warming up, which was a sign of how low key it was - there were plenty of people (maybe 70-100) just not really running types. Met some lads I knew, but was fairly confident they wouldn't cause me too much trouble.
Once the race started I moved straight into the lead but had some company. Felt comfortable & decided to be patient rather than try & kill the opposition. Went through the first mile in 5.40 & then found myself alone. Was feeling good now & thought I could put in a good time. And then the wheels started to come off - Bigtime!
The effects of the night before (indeed the previous two days) really started to kick in & I just wanted to stop. Got through mile 2 in 5.50 but then the stupid road started to climb. My stomach was doing somersaults and I remember passing the 4K mark and thinking how in the hell was I going to keep going? Just before the 3 mile mark there was a sharp corner & I was able to see two chasers who were a fair bit back. This made me feel a tiny bit better, in my head at least if not my belly! Had 6.27 for the 3rd mile but had completed a fair amount of climbing. Thankfully what goes up must go down & managed 5.30 for the next mile. Although by now I feared being caught I was at least thinking there's no way anyone could have ran much faster than that, downhill or not. By now it was just try & dig in & survive. The road was flat at this stage, a long straight run to the line. The pain was different than than usual, it was a miserable "I want to die" pain rather than the more usual "I want to stop". Had 5.58 for both miles 5 & 6 and when I came around the corner & saw the finish I couldn't even pick up the pace. There was no point in even looking around to see if anyone was bearing down on me as there's no way I have been able to muster a sprint. Thankfully there was n't & I crossed the line in 36.45 to a rapturous applause from the assembled masses. Or rather 3 guys standing there, one of whom informed me there was tea and sandwiches in the day care centre.
Alas as I had to attend my 1 year God daughter's birthday party (where yet again I succumbed to lure of junk food) I wasn't able to make it to the presentation, if there even was one. Leg was a bit sore so curtailed my warm down.
Back in Denmark now after a 3.45am start. Absolutely shattered but suppose I'd better try and do something to keep ticking over. Have decided to try and stay off the booze from now until after the marathon. Not so much because of the booze itself but more-so the indiscipline that inevitably follows the day after. We'll see how that goes!
Saturday: Off
Sunday: Warmup, 10K race 1st in 36:45, Warm down
Total for week: 77.6miles
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