On Sunday the 8th of June, I took on a challenge of running 10k in support of cancer research, round Victoria embankment in Nottingham, England.
A few years ago my grandad died of bladder cancer. A few months after that, my husband's step brother lost his life to cancer aged 20. 1 in 3 people in the UK are effected by cancer in some way or another. Race for Life is a charity event for women to help raise funds for Cancer Research UK. This year I decided to sign up for the 10k. I've done a previous 10k race for Alzheimer's, and I power walked that race in a time of 1hr 45 minutes. This time I decided to run 10k.
The weeks up to the event I trained as much as I could. However my daughter came down with chicken pox and me with tonsillitis, and it completely threw my training out the window. I turned up for the event, completely unprepared for the task at hand. I was also doing it solo. Because my training had gone out the window, I decided to part run and part power walk. This was the best I could hope for considering the bad luck I was having a fortnight before the race.
At the startline I waited for us to go: 5,4,3,2,1 and I was off! I had my husband and my daughter cheering me on from the sidelines. I was over taking people left right and centre, and I was pretty confident I was going to succeed and beat my target time of 1hr 30mins. At 3k down, I was feeling the heat. I was slowing down and the sun was just knocking the poop outta me. At 5k down and half way through, I was making good time: 40minutes. I had the option to bail out and just do 5k. NOT A CHANCE!!! I was tired and was starting fires with my thighs (yes, chaffing is not your friend) but I was committed to finishing this bad boy. I went round for another lap, more power walking than running this time. I had doubts in my head, calling myself an idiot for not bailing out. The only thing keeping me going was the event volunteers at every 2k marker, cheering me on, giving me high fives with there giant foam hands. "Come on number 11," they shouted. "You can do it, nearly there!" The last 1k approached, and I was feeling more optimistic. I can do this! I was not about to walk over the finish line. I began to run again. The last 500m were hard. I was back into the atmosphere of the crowd. I could hear and see people clapping and cheering, my legs were tired and my thighs on fire but I made it and smashed my personal best by 20mins and even beat my target time. I completed 10k in 1hr 25m 37seconds.
Now hand me that bottle of water!!!!!
I received my medal then collapsed in a heap. Oh the pain! It took 4 days to recover, and I raised £117 total to date. If my pain helped save one life, it was totally worth it!
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