Not Dead

That's right, despite your pessimistic predictions, I survived my 10km race. I actually managed to achieve all my goals, including to do the whole thing without stopping, and under an hour (actually 53 minutes, I'm chuffed). It was pretty painful, lonely at times, embarrassing when kids kept up with me by the side of the course for half the race, and nauseating when I decided to sprint the last 100 metres and retched up a load of air on the finish line, but I did it.
My whole lower body aches like hell today, but I managed to squeeze out a slow 3 mile jog to try and get the blood flowing again. I think it worked, but maybe the pain is just waiting until I least suspect it.
My support crew (mum, sister, uni mate) seemed disproportionately proud of me, maybe they didn't see that about 80% of the field, including octogenarians and part timers with jean-shorts and iPods were driving home by the time that I'd finished. I don't care though, I'm constantly told that I should only be competing with myself, which I'm beginning to really appreciate.
The next step, apparently, is a half marathon. And if I'm competing against myself, I don't think I can lose.