Woos VS Boos: Great South Run 2013

I did it! It feels like a bloody lifetime ago but this time last week I was lying flat on my bed trying not to move too much because I was already beginning to ache like a MOFO.

There’s no way to accurately clue you in on the feelings and events of the day however after a ridiculously early start, tears before we assembled to get going and a penguin huddle with my sister in law whilst wearing bin liners the time had come to bust my arse round the ten mile course.


Almost getting blown off my feet at mile 1 and thinking ‘what the fuck have I got myself into?’ whilst laughing like a maniac.

The teenager with the loudhailer in the dockyards who screeched ‘Come on Ally! Pick those knees up and don’t let the cobbles make you their bitch!”

The Harvey Army – running to help Naomi House Hospice in memory of Harvey Ashworth, a huge pink clad team of noise, fun and rabble rousing who it felt like you could hear wherever you were on the course.

Seeing a couple of lovely running buddies from parkrun before the race and out on the course, and also making new friends as we all busted our humps to the finish.

Hitting the mile 5 marker and hearing the dulcet tones of Heather Small being blasted over the speakers, “What have you done today, to make you feeeeeeeel proud?!” This was twofold joy because there I was halfway through a race that was making me feel very proud indeed and also because it reminds me of the G’s, a wonderful couple who I love dearly!

At mile 7 ish when I was in tears (what a sook!) I glanced up and saw a cottage called ‘Bryony’ which made me smile thinking about my friend Barney.

The tiny girl stood in the road with her Dad just before mile 8 handing out Haribo. She positively beamed at me when I made the effort to bend down and grab some sweets from her bowl rather than cruise past and swipe some from her Dad!

A&A my wonderful friends coming back to mile 9.5 to find me and spur me on for the final half a mile, they’d been hanging around for ages after A finished in an epic 1:33 but still made the effort to come and see me through the last moments.

Hearing Chariots of Fire as I hit the final 200 metres before crossing the finish line and realising I’d done better than I thought as I’d been reading the wrong flipping clock!

Getting my medal and slinging it round my neck with a beaming knackered grin and a sense of pride that was almost overwhelming.

The amount of support from friends, family, colleagues, and even strangers from the very first day I had a brain fart and signed up to run ten miles before I could run to the end of the road!

Raising just over £1300 (inc gift aid) for my chosen charity who will do some wonderful work to help many people with the money. http://www.justgiving.com/Alice-Linley-Munro


The wind – oh god THE WIND! You’d be pootling along doing quite okay thankyouverymuch and then suddenly POW a gust of wind so big it would either try and sweep you off your feet or take your breath away.

Catching sight of the sweeper as I entered mile 5 and it was rounding on mile 4 – I knew I was going to be slow, I’m hardly Usain Bolt after all but I was determined to stay ahead of the trail car, the sweeper, and bizarrely, the two Stormtroopers!

Tripping on a rogue fucking Powerade bottle blowing across the street around mile 6, I landed oddly and hurt my back and ended up limping to mile 7 before bursting into very loud sobs.

THE LAST TWO MILES. Eeeeeeeeveryone in the run up had said to keep something in the tanks for the last two miles along the seafront as it was prone to being ‘a bit blustery’. Approaching mile 8, several people who had already finished were shouting at those of us approaching the seafront to ‘prepare ourselves’. My sense of doom went in to overload and it turns out it was totally right. It was hard enough to stay vertical let alone vertical and moving in a forward motion. I lost count of how many times I thought ‘You know what? FUCK IT, I’m stopping RIGHT HERE and I’ll call A&A to come and get me’ before remembering that I had given A my phone before starting. I could have weeped when I also realised that we’d parked PAST the finish line so not only was I going to have to keep on keeping on to the finish, I was going to have to keep on keeping on PAST it too. 

But I did it! Slightly slower than I would have liked but given that I wasn’t even supposed to make it to thirty, I was grinning from ear to ear for days afterwards. I ached like fuck, couldn’t sleep on Sunday night because my legs were so painful, swore blind I was never going to ever run again, considered showering with my medal on as I was too knackered to take it off, in short I was dead on my feet.

I’m clearly sick in the head though as come Monday morning I found myself on the Great South website, registering to quite literally re-run the fun next year. *GULP*


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