Such strenuous living, I just don’t understand
Frank N. Furter, The Rocky Horror Picture Show
At 1km: Oh, shit. What have a gotten myself into? I’m being passed on every side. It’s still dark.
At 2km: Hello Domain Rd, hello Toorak Rd West. You’re sure pretty. Can I walk yet? No-one else is walking yet. Ah, here’s my first drinks station. Excellent. Now I can walk and have an excuse.
At 4km: Boy, the Botanical Gardens are nice. I can’t believe we still haven’t visited them. Ooh. That man is cute. Wait, lemme see if I can keep up with him…wait, not so fast! Maybe I can catch up….ah. No. Screw it. Never mind.
At 5km: Alexandra Ave, you are so flat. Thank you for being so flat. My goodness, it’s a gorgeous morning.
At 6km: Alexandra Ave, you are so long. Stop it. Ah! Powerade drinks station. I love your ice-blue sweet, sweet.
At 7km: Batman Ave, wow – I’m nearly back to the start!
At 8km: Batman Ave, you cruel trickster, I’m not even close, am I? This is taking too long. My left foot is starting to get a bit tender.
At 9km: Rod Laver FootBridge. Run over the bridge, Karen. No. How long is it? A hundred metres? Two? Just run over the fucking bridge. Do that much. No? Okay, fine. Walk it. It’s only your pride.
At 10km: Flinders Street. Keep running, keep running, don’t stop there are people here now, lots and lots of people, and they’re all looking. Lord, how embarrassing. Many other marathoners have turned left to head down to the finish line. Don’t look at me!
At 11km: It’s the start line! Half way! Shit, the 10km people are about to start. NO DON’T point me out Mr. Loudspeaker man! (“Don’t forget we still have some half marathoners still going. Give them a clap people!”). Oh, fine. Hello folks. *waves*
At 12km: Hello Shrine of Remembrance. It’s daylight now. Excuse my shuffling. My running’s been reduced to this.
At 13km: Okay, something is going awry in my legs now. Hamstrings. Ow. Calves. Ow.
At 14km: Drinks Station. NO POWERADE. KAREN GET ANGRY! Down to walking now. Fawkner Park is congested with all the 10km people. Bit of argy-bargy going on. Men with double prams steam past. Kids pass me. Oh well.
At 15km: A teenager wearing the same fundraising MND vest barrels past, clapping me on the shoulder as he goes saying, “Keep going, you can do it. Go MND!” I get overcome and my eyes get teary.
At 16km: Oh, I’m sore sore sore sore sore sore sore sore.
At 17km: I HATE THE WHOLE FUCKING UNIVERSE.
At 18km: There’s Birrarung Marr! I see it! Nearly home!
At 19km: Nearly there!
At 20km: IT ALL HURTS BUT I DON’T CARE.
At 21km: This is really happening!
Finish: Holy Shit. I did it.
Taken from the Run Melbourne website.
