It's now summer in Dubai. Well, it's always summer in Dubai, but now it's, you know, SUMMER. I mean the hotter than hell, non-negotiable, I-could-burst-into-flames-at-any-given-moment ARABIAN DESERT summer.
UGH.
Being an English northerner, I struggle in the heat at the best of times but it seemed like the Weather Gods of the Middle East decided to surprise me by upping the temperatures by 10*C overnight, three days before my race. Cheers guys. Appreciate it.
I did kind of expect it when I signed up for the race, but it would have been much more helpful if the temperatures increased slowly. Nope. Boom - Dante's Inferno. Have fun, suckers!
I told myself repeatedly that because it was a night run, the evening would be cooler and more manageable. But there's another problem - It was a weekday evening. After work. Work meaning 8 hours of teaching a wonderful (but very loud and demanding) class of 7 year olds. I came home work feeling a bit like this...
...Wolfed down some food, showered and geared up, realised I was running terribly late and dashed out the door.
By the time I arrived at Meydan racecourse I was feeling pretty apathetic... I could have come 'everyone has gone home, went to sleep and are about to get up for work' last and I wouldn't have cared less. It was scorching hot, I was exhausted, and I'd drank so much water I was desperate to pee yet still feeling REALLY thirsty. So much for my pre-race hydration efforts...
We lined up to start and I was warming up by doing a little muscle-activating 'I really need to pee immediately or sooner' dance... Took a big breath in and off we went. Looked like the wee would just have to wait!
Ooh, what a lovely first mile! 6:30 per km pace, feeling strong, like I could run like this forever. I went on with this lovely feeling up until the Meydan bridge water before realising how hot I was getting. I doused my head with water (which was also warm therefore about as much use as a chocolate fire guard) and then started up the hill and over the bridge.
So far so good. Hill not causing too many issues, I reached the top with relative comfort, turned the corner and onto the flat and hit THE WALL.
OUCH.
The wall? What do you mean the wall? This is a 10k! I've run just over a mile. I've drank plenty (too much perhaps) and fueled well with good nutrition. I can't be hitting the wall, no way! But I did. And it hurt. My legs hurt my head hurt my lungs hurt my eyes and ears hurt my back hurt my abs hurt EVERYTHING HURT. I found myself getting more and more angry and I think this was the only reason I kept going.
Up another damn hill. And finally, down towards where we started. At this point I was running slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter, but I was still going, grumbling under my breath and wondering how on Earth this was feeling so difficult.
By 4km I was pretty close to tears and feeling like every step could well be the last I was able to manage. We neared the turning point and I had a choice to make - keep straight and cross the finish line, registering as a 'did not finish' as I couldn't switch category... Or keep going. After having stern words with myself, coming around to the idea of a new personal worst and placing 'dodging the morning commute traffic' last, I decided to keep going.
Run a kilometre, walk a few steps, stretch, grumble, curse, run a bit more. This is how it went for the next 3.5km. I was desperately thirsty and feeling cramp and my head felt ready to explode. That last downhill stretch I felt like I was falling more than running but at that point I wasn't prepared to walk any more. I may have been 'running' at walking pace at certain points but I told myself I would not stop until I was done, then maybe it wouldn't be a personal worst after all.
500m to go, and plenty of time to get under the worst time I'd ran previously. At the point I switched off my brain altogether and channeled everything I had to my legs to finish strong. More cursing and growling ensued (I think I scared the poor guy I passed on the straight!) and I crossed the line at 1:17:02, and not even close to last, as was predicted by The Fear.
After arriving home, feeling too tired to even eat something before sleep, I crashed into bed and read through all the lovely messages of support, encouragement, interest from loved ones... Including a mild concern for my welfare from Tom. (Side note: I'm still trying to decide whether I should feel pleased that he cares so much, or a bit gutted that he's concerned for my welfare during what should be a relatively easy run! Ha!)
I won't pretend I'm thrilled with the result as it's nowhere near my personal best, but that's okay. I have a lot of time to get back to my peak as I hope for my running to be a lifelong love. For now, this .will do... And having so much room for growth is very, VERY exciting. How it's time to train for my next event - Hever Castle Half Marathon on 9th July. I'm very exciting (and slightly terrified), but bring it on!
In short...
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