During the race, I was thinking about why I like an old black and white movie, comedies, like the old Ealing Studios films, the Lady Killers, Passport to Pimlico, and then those timeless classics such as Breakfast at Tiffany's and Some Like it Hot. Hot. Old films stir the imagination and generate the sense of 'immersion' that many newer films try to emulate with their CGI and 3D. Instead, like lots of contemporary stuff, it just bypasses the imagination altogether. Anyway, it was hot yesterday, flippin' hot and most didn't like it. And the occasion was certainly one to become immersed in.
There's something somewhat alarming to have finished an event where the overwhelming sensation is that of the sound of ambulances...many ambulances. From mile 11, the walkers were almost as many as the runners, it seemed, and the kerb sides full of small crowds of people gathered on their hands and knees kneeling over someone in need of fresh air and privacy. Why do people do this? Well, to be fair, this weekend has been stunning, and I have to admit, had I been in fighting spirit and sensed the cool air of the morning, I'd have followed my plan as rehearsed and gone for it. But about an hour in, the sun really started to cook and took everyone by surprise. It would certainly have put to rest any plan of mine. And indeed I think we can safely say it killed the 1.50 mission I was required to pace on.
Fair play, not a day for PB's, but a great day to be out running around. And once again I love that feeling after the race where Wilmslow is just gridlocked with cars, as people take to the streets, with medals hung proudly round their necks. Sod the traffic. I had a most excellent cuppa from a tea stall just by the finish. My best drink of the day as I watched it all unfold...and listened to the ambulances. No serious casualties, is the word, but the biggest event of the club so far with the highest number of entrants, starters and finishers. In fact, once everyone had crossed the start mat, the club realised that so high was the percentage of starters to entrants, way up on any previous year, they realised they were to be short of goodie bags.
So once we crossed the finish line it was a little odd that we seemed to get ignored by everyone until I had to ask for my medal and bag. The sheepish reply...'Wilmslow Running Club runners don't get one.' That's literally all I wanted from this...a medal. But hey ho...got to take one for the team, we were told. I'm over it now! On a positive note, my calves feel fine today. In fact, I've the week off...and the sun is still shining. It could be a great week of running around.
