Folkestone 10

I think I have done this race at least once since 2010, though I can’t find myself in the archived results. I have a very clear memory of asking someone where the loo was at about mile 5.

So in my head I have done this race 4 times, including today. And I really like it, but mostly in retrospect because it is quite hard work in practice. The Folkestone 10 is ten almost completely flat coastal miles; and as is often the way with coastal races (the Hastings Half being a perfect example) the last two miles stretch into an eternity of endless, concretey flatness. I always feel that I have shrunk to earthworm size, and am looking not at two perfectly easy, pleasant seaside miles; but a desert-like expanse of 200 empty, dusty miles along which I can only wriggle on my tummy.

And because I am a lazy cow who only trained up to 8 miles a couple of times, I knew the last two miles were going to hurt.  AND, most races no longer allow headphones so I was reduced to singing in my own head to give myself some sort of encouraging rhythm to run to. I tend to prefer something electronicky-dancey like Donna Summer – I feel love, to run races to.

But all that appeared to be available in my head was ‘Show me the way to go home’. And I can only remember some of it, mainly because I only know it from Jaws. So what I think of as lines seven and eight I have to make up, because that is when the shark starts attacking (see link). But it sort of works.

I finished in what I felt was an ok time (140 minutes or so), until I looked at the results to see what my pb was. And in 2010 I ran it in 130.08. Bum, who knew I was so fast?

Got a Creme Egg though. It turns out that they are actually palatable after 10 miles of running.

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