This post is long overdue but writing a race report for a marathon I trained for and missed out on wasn't something I was particularly looking forward to doing. Anyway, this pretty much sums it up:
My suitcase (complete with doomed race number) bursts open in the airport, and I stand and look at it uselessly while my friend tries to repack it.
What can I say, I stood and watched another of my marathons pass me by. The weather on race day was brutal: 30 degrees and sunny. Everyone in my group who ran struggled in the heat. If I had been running it would have been another tough race, but even this isn't consolation enough. My desire for a marathon still overrides my desire for a good marathon. Still, I didn't have a choice. Next stop Dublin, October. And that will be a great race.
My suitcase (complete with doomed race number) bursts open in the airport, and I stand and look at it uselessly while my friend tries to repack it.
What can I say, I stood and watched another of my marathons pass me by. The weather on race day was brutal: 30 degrees and sunny. Everyone in my group who ran struggled in the heat. If I had been running it would have been another tough race, but even this isn't consolation enough. My desire for a marathon still overrides my desire for a good marathon. Still, I didn't have a choice. Next stop Dublin, October. And that will be a great race.
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