Never mind the finish line, for a little while it seems as if Helen and I won’t even get to the start of the Llanelli Half Marathon! Roadworks in the town have brought traffic to a standstill. We can see Parc Y Scartlets, where the race begins, but no one’s going anywhere at the moment. Tom, who’s kindly taken on the role of driver and team support, patiently listens while Helen and I try to control our jitters by planning a pre-race strategy. We change into our race shirts (my running bra’s the size of a crop top - so why do I worry about possibly revealing it to other people sitting in their cars?), we drink our coffee, eat our snacks and - phew! - the traffic moves at last.
At the stadium, we charge to the loos for a pitstop but there’s another anxious moment when it seems as if all 2,000 runners are crowded on the stairs trying to avoid a sudden shower. Eventually, we make our way to the starting pen only to discover the start has been delayed by fifteen minutes! Aargh! It feels like forever before we set off, but once we’re moving I feel comfortable. It’s a new route and the forecast for today is for strong, gusty winds. Speedy Helen is up and away, but after lurgy hit my training early in the year I’m going to settle into the groove and see how it goes.
I have high praise for all the marshals and volunteers who make these events possible, but the water and gel stations are a bit of scramble. Shortly after the turnaround, I also start to suspect that something’s not quite right about the distance, a suspicion later confirmed by my watch which clocks up 13.32 miles. These issues aside, it is, as ever, a lovely course with beautiful views along the coast and a great atmosphere. The highlight of my race comes at mile 10, when a spectator tells me quietly, ‘you’ve got this - just three miles to go!’. A parkrun, I tell myself, and although the last three miles are not exactly a walk in the park - especially with a steep incline at the end - I’m satisfied with my race. The roar of support at the finish line is fantastic - such a boost to tired legs. It’s great to link up with Helen - who’s come in first in her age group (I’m sixth in mine, so not too shabby) - and wonderful to see Tom.
My next race is to a writing deadline which I meet ahead of time because I want to clear my thoughts before my aunt’s funeral the next day. We set off early and arrive at Chichester crematorium in good time. After a cold start, it’s developed into a beautiful, sunny day. The crematorium is set in lovely grounds and sunshine pours into the room where the service is held, bathing it in a golden light. The priest talks about my aunt’s life and reminds us in the words of St Paul’s letter to the Corinthians that love never ends.
So farewell our dearly loved Aunty Vera, you will always be in our hearts.
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Vera Violet Primrose Chapman (neé Wood) (Right in photo.)
March 1932 - January 2019
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Comments
Your running ability and enthusiasm really is inspiring...even though it is quite clear to me that I will never even wear running shoes. xo