| 1 July 2009, 8:54 am |
| Wellington NZ Marathon report |
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| A PB by 13 minutes for Stevie Boy.... |
G’Day ya Pommies, don’t come the raw prawn with me, shove it on the Barbie.
Enough of that crap and on to the real thing. Excuse any spelling mistakes but I’ve just got back from the RSA after a lunch time drinking session with my Father-in Law so my unabated euphoria mixed with a few pints of dark may cloud my judgement.
I’ll skip most of the build up and get to race day. We arrived at Westpac Stadium, home of the best rugby teams in the world, the Wellington Lions and Hurricanes at 6.15am just in time to cheer off the marathon walkers which to the uninitiated is not a new crisp flavor but hardy souls who intend to WALK 26.2 miles. Trouble is, and this story gets worse, the organisers are hurredly assembling the start line before the hip swingers set off!
The MC announces we will leave from the Michael Jackson Memorial start line which is Bad but also a Thriller. We take a few snaps, its dark of course but we are that stubborn, and we wander into the stadium. The coffee isn’t on till 7.30, the time I start running. Water then? From a tap in the gents yes. It is alright to use the urinals then?
Wendy is showing great concerns for my welfare seeing as I’m running in the club vest and she’s wearing my club tee shirt. I’ll be bloody butch alright I assert, I ran the Duchy in the hail etc, as if that is going to help.
I do the warm up in the hallowed halls and arrive at the start line with my fellow competitors for the pre race briefing which is suitably tongue in cheek. Just before the off, a young lad called Michael asks if Carn is Kernow and we exchange greetings as he is originally from Camborne. Young and looking fit, I wonder if my world wide search to be first Cornish runner across the line has been scuppered by this upstart. How much further can I go than the other side of the world?
Bang and we’re off and I set my stall out for a quick half and crawl the second if need be. Of course it’s in K’s down under so I go for 5.20 K’s if possible. Wendy gives me a great send off and I shock the other runners by a mighty C’mon the Carn as we hit the ramps and all of a sudden get plenty of running room.
Wellington is a great course and you are treated by running round the harbour and accompanying bays, to some great scenery and watch inter island ferries and planes landing as well as running past where so much of Lord of the Rings was filmed. Did I ever tell you Helen, just to keep the movie theme going, that I used to work with Peter Jackson at the Wellington Evening Post?
Get to my old hunting grounds of the Eastern Suburbs and I’m feeling really strong and keeping so well to my time that I decide to choke back a bit as I think 3.40 would be a step too far. The Wellington weather which can make North Cliffs look a pussy is behaving itself and South Easterly winds have not got to their expected ferocity. I have the infamous Pass of Branda to negotiate, a saddleback hill that will take me to the ocean, in my pocket and I reach Wendy and Maggie and Bas, my in-laws, at half way in 1.50. Scary time.
We head off back home using the same route and I try to choke back even more but can’t and I’m still churning out 5.20 K’s which I don’t need to do. I get to 32K and it’s now starting to tell in the legs. My support crew is there as well as some old friends from Wellington and my spirits receive a brief lift especially as you are now meeting the slow half marathon runners on their way back. Wendy is going to run the last 4-5K back with me but it is definitely a running on instruments 3-4K until I reach her but we are back into town on Oriental Parade now and the scenery and Wendy’s soothing tones are keeping me going until the hamstring decides to play up. Wendy orders the stupid muscle to behave itself and calms my panic and visions of limping home. Past the Sunday market, through the wharf and back into Westpac Stadium and I tell Wendy I can’t see the clock. It’s set for the half runners she tells me so I rely on my stop watch and cross the line in 3.51.41, a big PB.
Get my goody bag and back to the hotel for a shower and then into the pub for drinks with family and friends before the drive back up the coast.
I wish I was wealthy enough to fly you all out to Wellington to run the course, you would love it. Fast, flat and scenic. However, I wish I could fly the race organisers back to the UK to see how a race should be put on. It’s the little things that make a race, not the flashy stadia to start and finish in. Having said that, I couldn’t be more delighted and will look forward to boring you all when we get back.
By the way Chris, the picture of the Norwich shirt is because the pub we walked into after the race was owned by a Norwich supporter. It does drive you to drink!
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