Many thanks to mum for acquiring the time for me and texting it to me at work. I couldn’t wait to find out!
As you can see with the time above, I managed to beat last year’s time for the City2Surf.
In the most eloquent terms - YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was, I admit, a little hungover at the start line. I had about five or six glasses of champagne the night before in the Club Lounge at the Sheraton on the Park (my home away from home when I’m in Sydney) and hardly any water to chase them. I also ate a hearty breakfast prior to the start, and if you’ll excuse a little too much information (I apologise in advance) my breakfast kept on coming back up to say hello over the first ten or so kilometres of the race. I never actually vomited, which is a plus, but I had a bit of... unpleasantness.
My legs felt like crap as we crossed the start line, and my lungs started to give me hell after the first kilometre in a way that made me think I was going to be walking a large portion of the way. I felt disheartened, like I’d cheated myself out of a good race. The first little hill (just as you head toward the tunnel) was way harder than it was supposed to be.
I’m going to assume that these issues came from not being warmed up, at all. It was also a bit cool at the start - in Sydney standards, mind you. Canberra folks are made of hardier stuff. It was grey, and it drizzled a little before the start, but I was too focused on my own pain to care even if it was raining (and I don’t think it really was raining). At the first drink stop, I got a cup of water and poured it down my neck and back as I walked through, drinking another. As soon as I got back into my stride, I felt good. Actually, I felt great. The cold water gave me the shock I needed to harden up and get on with it.
Heartbreak Hill? More like a speed bump. I noticed coins on the road, a fifty cent coin here, a five cent there. They started halfway up the hill (or at least that’s where I noticed the first one) and I followed them all the way up the slope. A welcome distraction. Actually, there were coins on the road all the way down to Bondi. Someone had a hole in their pocket, methinks.
Mum didn’t catch me at the finish line, but I didn’t catch her either, unfortunately. It was a great run though, and even though there was no live rock band on the pub roof this year (something I always keep my eye out for) there was a jazz band (or maybe two), cheerleaders (multiple), some very well dressed drag queens and the obligatory smurfs, presumably drinking at nine am on a Sunday.
Recovery wasn’t too much fun. I was tired as hell after the race, and that continued until yesterday. Starting to feel a little more like myself now, but I’ve still got the pain in the front of my thighs that comes with a two kilometre sprint at the end of a race at what was at least for me a blistering pace.
All in all, very happy with this year’s race.
Very happy indeed.
(ps. Love this pic, but unfortunately my medal was flipped around so you can’t see it. It’s a pity. And yes, I’m a dork. I’ve cross-posted this pic everywhere because it’s awesome and I look like a big awesome dork in it.)
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