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As
our work team assembled it was clear that there had been a mix of
preparations for the race. One colleague had just returned from
holiday on which he had taken his running shoes and trained meticulously,
whilst another had caught the 6:30am train from Newcastle that morning
having enjoyed 3 days of a friend's stag weekend. He was looking
grey before he'd run a step!
Despite
there being ten of us, the team ethic only showed itself when we
each sacrificed a safety pin for those that had forgotten to bring
theirs. Once the run started you had to run at your own pace, whatever
your good intentions of staying together.
The
start seemed a little shambolic. The throng was supposed to snake
back to in front of Victoria station but instead most gathered in
Exchange Square. I placed myself near the back, not confident enough
to go further forward for fear of getting in the way. This turned
out to be a good move as I felt as though I was passing more people
than passed me - a nice psychological boost.
At
the back there were no loud speakers and because of the crowds in
front, I could only assume that we were underway rather than know
it. My warm up therefore consisted of jumping as high as I could
to see if there were bobbing heads in the distance. There were,
and after about 10 minutes we passed through the start.
My
stated aim of the run was to reach the War Museum without stopping
and see how things panned out from there. You don't notice the climb
up to the Quays from Manchester in the car, but on foot it's a reasonably
steep gradient and there were a couple of times I felt like stopping,
but I made it to the Museum feeling as comfortable as could reasonably
be expected. My 10km challenge
- read about Jonathan's training for the Great Manchester Run
The
people on the sidelines cheering you on are a Godsend. Out in the
sticks, you'd be exaggerating to call them crowds, but every individual's
applause and encouragement really does spur you on. I was taking
each cheer and clap as my own. I actually found myself smiling,
when I should have been grimacing and that's a real positive drive.
So
up past Old Trafford we went, although I was too concentrated on
my breathing to start my planned chorus of 'Blue Moon', and back
to the City, at each landmark giving myself a bit further before
I stop for a rest. It was almost all of a sudden I found myself
in the last KM and on Deansgate Locks (behind a man in stilettos!)
and approaching what must be the cruellest finish in road race history.
I knew
the ramp up to GMEX was steep - but not that steep! Finishing in
the exhibition centre was a nice idea, but at what cost to the runner?
The effort up the hill took away any dreams I had of a sprint finish,
but I did manage a celebratory Ravenelli style shirt over head as
I crossed the finishing post. It had taken about an hour and five
minutes - only 1hr 13 minutes on the clock - a time I was hugely
pleased with and some 20 minutes faster than I'd hoped for.
Over
the line there were feelings of exhilaration all round as people
regained their breath and compared notes on how much they had enjoyed
it. We were directed outside into the bright sunshine, which had
gone unnoticed on the road, but suddenly made me feel blinded as
the brain asked where all the oxygen had disappeared to.
I'm
very proud of what I achieved in this run. Despite the chaffing,
stiffness and all round pain, I feel I've made a great leap from
a standing start and I have caught certainly caught the running
bug. I'll be back in training on Thursday and, as well as next year's
repeat event, am eyeing up another Manchester City Centre 10k on
June 22nd? See you there?
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