I CAME, I SAW, I RAN, I FELL OVER

So had a pretty eventful week in Cape Town. Would have been more eventful had I not come down with bird flu on day two. Sleeping was high on the agenda, staying awake was pretty much impossible. With the Two Oceans on the Saturday, people were filling my head with stories of runners who had died because they had flu and ran. I finished off their sentances with 'into a car' and braved the other thousands of runners and crossed over the starting line with dreams of my running my best time ever and being hounded by Asics and Puma for sponsorship deals.

Having had a recent knee injury which was added to an unidentified drinking injury resulting in a twisted ankle, I made sure I was strapped to the max. Nine km’s into the race, I realised I had strapped the wrong knee. At the exact time I was giving my knee a really good talking too, the brother piped up with…

The Brother: We’re doing 6 minutes a km here guys, we better pick up the pace.
Me: Really? Sh*t absolutely.
In my head: If I could ‘pick up the pace’ I think I would have f*cking picked it up by now, wouldn’t I?

After another two km’s of trying to run with one knee at a pace that I couldn’t manage to match had I been riding a bike, I said goodbye to the brother and looked around to find a granny I could run with.

15 km’s into the race just as I was considering diving into the pram of a passing runner mom, I saw in the distance The Dad, The Mom and The Gran.

Me: Daaaaaaaaaaaad!
Dad: Baglett! I’ve got to go warn the Gran that you’re coming – stay there!
Me: What do you mean ‘Stay there’, it’s a f*cking race dad.
Dad: Well run slower then
Me: That’s pretty much impossible
Gran: Oooh smile! Take a photo with all of us
Me: Guys, this is not a day for family portraits, if you haven’t noticed I’ve got to keep running.
Me: Dad, Your Dog is chasing me.
Dad: He just wants some of the extra walkies Baglett, take him with you.
Me: I can’t friggin run with the dog dad, this is not a ‘bring a pet on your run’ day.
Dad: Fine, bring him back. Good luck Baglett, and just so you know, your brother is waaaaaaaaaay ahead of you.
Me: Thanks for that.

With that bout of family support, warped as it was, it pushed me to the finishing line, where I listened to Chariots of Fire on my Ipod, fell over the finishing line, hugged the medal guy and collapsed onto the ground pretty chuffed that I was still breathing.

Needless to say I’m still wearing my medal. The Dad convinced me not to wear it at the airport because… wait for it….

‘It would set off the medal detector’.

Good God.