Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
The Record Breaker
by admin - 11:28 on 24 June 2014
It's official – Matchgirl loves Iceland. The Running Gods (who may be Thor and Odin) looked down on her with favour, despite much pre-race chuntering about how tired she was and why did she get involved in such silliness. The rain held off (although the wind didn't) and not only did she enjoy her Midnight Sun Half Marathon, she achieved a personal best of two hours ten minutes. An even faster finish might have been achieved if her iPod hadn't died with a few miles to do. At least she has an excuse (not that one's ever needed) for some celebratory gadget shopping. She was also carrying an injury – a foot bruised by the bottle she knocked off a shelf during pre-departure cleaning at The Rural Retreat. I bet Edna Kiplagat never did that.
Cathy and Paul also completed the course in respectable times, leading to much adrenaline-fuelled excitement from the ladies when we found each other at the end and post-race analysis began. Paul, being a bloke, was much more laid back about his one hour thirty-one minutes.
Matchgirl, Paul and Cathy
Afterwards, all the runners had free entry to the hot springs outside the nearby swimming pool. Being a mere hanger-on, I had to pay for the privilege of joining the victorious trio and their co-runners in something that resembled a seal colony filled with wallowing, chattering people.
Hot springs may be artistic licence on the part of the pool's management. The warm water does come from the same geothermal source that supplies most of Reykjavik but the pungent sulphur smell we've come to associate with showers was absent, much to my disappointment and Matchgirl's relief.
We took a taxi back to our apartments at one in the morning when it was lighter than the average Scottish winter afternoon. The jagged horizon was sharp against a fiery glow created by the sun hidden just below it, ready to rise again soon. We're both looking forward to some even more impressive scenery when we leave Reykjavik on Wednesday and venture into the wild lands of the west.
That's weather permitting. The forecast rain arrived late and this morning is damp and wind-swept, so it's fortunate that we'd no definite plans for Matchgirl's post-race recovery day apart from dinner tonight with Cathy and Paul. We expect another culinary delight, for everywhere we've eaten has been memorable – even the modest Grey Cat cafe yesterday morning which was able to make toasted sandwiches and bagels special. The cat wasn't home, though.
We'd done little yesterday before setting out for the race site. The morning was spent indoors, resting Matchgirl's legs. In the afternoon we split up: Matchgirl went to race HQ to collect her number and the rest of the associated gubbins; I made another exploration with the Pentax, the highlight of which was a close view of the amazing Hallgrimskirkja Church, although I ran out of time to go up the tower.
There's still time. If not, Matchgirl's already considering her next Icelandic odyssey. Whether I'll be allowed to accompany her is another matter – her post-race sleep was not aided by snoring. I don't know what all the fuss is about...
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