It was the Dirt Half Marathon yesterday – the event I’ve been training for since returning from the Alps in August.  I’d seen a running coach, trained hard, avoided illness and injury and arrived healthy and fit on the start line.  What would the race hold for me?  I had no idea how fast I was, how hard it was going to be on my body or  what the course was really like.  I woke up yesterday morning and thought ‘Yikes’!

Nervously awaiting the start.

We dragged ourselves out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8am – 8am on a Saturday just shouldn’t be allowed!  My kit was ready, jelly beans packed, number pinned on and all I had to decide was whether to wear a cap, sunglasses or a buff.  The cap won the battle as it was foggy but the sun had potential.  I had a big bowl of home made muesli (recipe here) followed by a strong cup of coffee to get me buzzing.  After the inevitable faffing we were off.  The drive to Leighton Buzzard was short and there was no traffic so we arrived in plenty of time for the 10am start.  Parking was a bit of a problem though and we ended up driving over some grass and parking in a school playground – no idea if we were supposed to park there but we just followed everyone else.  There should really have been someone to help direct the parking as it was chaotic.  I picked up my timing chip and sent text messages to my 2 twitter buddies I was due to meet up with.

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This morning I got up early (well 8am) and popped over to Dunstable Downs for the Blacks Northface Singletrack 10k Trail Race.  It was a bright, crisp autumn morning so I donned a few extra layers to keep warm before the start – looking down at myself I realised that I should have won a special prize for the most amount of Northface clothing any one person can wear.  Honestly, apart from my bra and sunglasses it was all Northface.  Alas this went unnoticed and no prize was given!

Anyway, we got parked up and wandered over to the 10k registration tent (there was also a 5k race starting 15 minutes earlier) and picked up my goodie bag, timing chip and race number.  Mr R attached the chip to my shoe as a recent sudden departure from my mountain bike meant I had a sore back and couldn’t bend over.  Number attached and goodie bag ransacked I was ready.  There was no group warm up or people dressed up as rhinos, just a rather serious bunch of runners and a safety briefing which I didn’t hear a word of thanks to a rather loud family on the sidelines.  Anyway, how difficult could it be – this wasn’t the Alps!

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