east coast runners: Beresford 10km road race

Weather on route to the start

It was a wet, raining, grey Saturday morning. I woke up, dragged myself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. I was surprised at the amount of sleep I was able to get the night before. 'Am I really running another 10km today?' I think to myself as I weigh out the options for breakfast. I could be brave like my sister and opt for pancakes, or stick with something I am more familiar with. In my normal fashion, I play it safe and end up eating an English muffin with peanut butter.

Unpredictable weather meant lots of consideration on what to wear. Ended up with capris, long sleeve, hat and a headband. I felt good, ready to go. Driving to the start point was filled with fun music and an anticipation for what was ahead. The race started later than most, at 11am. Thankfully the clouds covered the sun and prevented it from getting too hot.

Gathered with the other 280 runners (of the 400 or so that were registered) under a white tent, trying to avoid the rain for as long as possible. Eventually the crowd started moving forward towards the road, it was time. And just like that we were off. I decided to move to the middle of the pack for fear of being the very last person. I was running ahead of my sister Nikki, her friend Miranda and my dad. After about one song, I see a race marker in the distance. Is this 2km? 3km? Wow that flew by!! As I approach the sign I am disappointed. 1 kilometre. How is this possible? I must have gone farther than that by now. Regardless, I push on. 2 kilometres, 3 kilometres, 4... I feel like my running partners are right behind me but don't want to turn around to check. Must keep going forward. Rain is pounding down on me but I am warm. Rain on my face is actually a relief and I try to catch a few precious drops in my mouth as I saunter along. I jump over and around puddles. I feel like a trooper. 'I'm sure no one else has ever run in the rain like this before! I am a pioneer. A real go getter.' I run out of music around 8km. I sigh and stop as I frantically try to remove my iPod from my makeshift rain proof plastic flyer bag protection. Press play. And then I'm off again. Pick it up with 500 metres left. Turn one corner, turn another. See the finish line. Hear people cheering. Run, run, run. And it's over. Another race is over. I watch others cross the finish line and cheer them on. Back at home, I peel off layers and have a long hot bath, and think about the next one.