Last night it was a struggle to get out of the clutches of the city's rush hour traffic. By 5pm I had to be 75 miles away in Carlingford for a weeding and it wasn't looking good as I crawled along Dublin's orbital motorway at a snails pace and it was already well past 4pm.
We finally arrived at the seaside town and checked into our hotel and I use that term in the broadest sense of the word. It reminded me of a DIY project that went horribly wrong. The hotel consisted of a series of individual rooms running along the length of a driveway, each with large sliding doors to the front that opened straight into the bedroom. The bathroom, again accessed via a sliding door, reminded me of an apartment that I'm sure we've all had. You know the one where the landlord was so tightfisted that he'd never replace anything or get a tradesman in to make proper repairs and the flat looked as if it would disintegrate if you sneezed?
We were running late and had to get ready fast. I jumped into the shower, predictably a cold one, and dried off with one of the micro-mini bath towels. My suit looked like it was rolled up in a ball in the boot of my car, hardly surprising since that's exactly where it had been for the last few days. I managed to de-crease my suit just enough to get away with it. I did a little foraging for an iron and ironing board for my shirt before finally accepting that this was indeed a classy hotel.
With lightly creased shirt, a matching suit and a pair of Doctor Martin shoes I was ready and out the (sliding) door. The hotel owner was a nice guy and gave us a lift down the very steep hill to the wedding venue, his driving skills obviously far outweighed his DIY skills.
It was a lovely wedding reception. It was held in the local sailing club which had striking views along the length of Carlingford Lough. It was a long night, I was trying to drink as little a possible and time seemed to pass more slowly the later it got. But eventually it was home time, the bar had closed and the DJ was packing up. Walking back to the hotel was a bit of a challenge; it was pitch black and all up hill. We eventually made it, wrestled with our sliding door and fell into bed.
Getting up the next morning wasn't easy, my race started at 10am and I was at least an hour and a half away. I struggled to get up and managed to dress, pack and get on the road by 8.30. After a brief stop to get petrol and breakfast I was on the way.
I reached the City orbital at 9.40, I was late and wasn't sure if I'd make it on time but I pressed on. Uncharacteristically I didn't get lost and arrived at the registration office with 5 minutes to spare. I dashed into the office to register and pick up my number. I had to dash back to the car to get my GPS watch and foolishly tried to pin my number on my shirt as I ran. After several minor stabbings I decided to walk until the number was attached. I got to the car with no time to spare, I was officially late as the start line was a 10 to 15 minute walk away.
I ran all the way to the start line which was devoid of all runners and walkers, I was definitely late! As I crossed the start line I heard a beep and was happy that my time had been recorded. It took a minute or two to reach the slowest walkers and a few minutes later I came across the slowest runners. I was running faster than I would normally and continued to overtake runners for the next fifteen or twenty minutes until I caught up with a group running at a comfortable pace for me. I slowed down and ran the remainder of the race at this pace.
After mile 4 my right knee started to twinge a little, could this be the start of a painful finish? I was right! The final few hundred metres were quite painful but I carried on regardless and crossed the line, with relief, in 42:08. Not bad for a 5 mile run with a hangover and dodgy knees, I must turn up late more often!
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