We have a group of runners who we are helping to run their first marathon in November. As part of the program we have decided to to do some of our long runs together. And the first one was to be this Sunday, where we joined an official 15km race. So, with sleep glued eyes – not having had to rise at the unearthly running hour since Comrades in May, we set off to meet everyone. Nothing quite like a pink sky heralding the arrival of the dozy sun as you make your way to the start of the race at 5:25am.
We were somewhat surprised by the few cars – but then I reasoned that maybe it was just not a popular race, as I slipped into a nice close parking. We easily found the registration table and within minutes had paid and were contemplating the start.
Until…that is, someone mentioned that the race was no longer starting at 6am but at 7am! With kids slumbering at home expecting our return at 8am, this would not do. So after some hasty discussion, and refunds we set off on our own 15km race.
We started with some grumbles about how this could have happened, how life was not fair, how if we ran the world it would all be right, as the orange sun welcomed us to the day. We followed the race course – sans drinks – but what an awesome run it was.
There were not jostling people, or offensive winds (all a real part sometimes of running) – it was just our group of 6. And what fun we had. As we returned to the stadium the back markers of the race were still setting forth, and we with grins painted on our faces reflecting that this was much better than what we had planned.