This was a fine example of how not to run any kind of race. I was running alone and arrived at my hotel early enough to have a wander around Newry for a decent Italian for a monster bowl of pasta… unfortunately Newry is not a town know for it’s culinary variety or quality but what it does offer in the line of eating houses have an interesting variety of opening hours that are not particularly suited to what I would called reasonable eating times.
I must have walked the length and breath of the town before stepping into an Indian restaurant that I passed on at least three occasions. Indian food is not the best prep for a race but beggars cannot be choosers. Tucking into the recommended dish of the day I discovered it was a little spicier than I was used to and ordered a beer to cool things off a little. What harm could one beer do.
The one became a few and leaving the restaurant I was both merry and full, but strangely still thursty. As I walked into my hotel lobby the lure of the bustling bar was hard to resist and I thought what harm could one more do?
At 4am I decided I really had to get some sleep, the race was at 10am and at this stage in the night and for the first time that night one more probably wouldn’t have made any difference.
I woke with no desire to get out of bed, don’t mind run a half marathon. But I had come all this way and paid the money so up I got and staggered around my room getting my gear together. Walking out of the hold the fresh air hit me like a punch in the face and I knew this was going to be a long race.
And it was very long! My head was throbbing for the first half and I drank what seemed my body weight in water during the race. I would have enjoyed it had I not been so unwell, the route was very scenic and the day was warm and sunny.
I have to say that crossing the line was a big surprise, I managed it in 2:09:45, that a pace of 9:54 min/miles and I felt really good at the end. Could this be the perfect hangover cure?