Slow Mag is a race to remember and to forget. I prepared well for it, the training and the diet was spot on. I did everything right until the start gun.
The strategy was to have a slow easy 6:20 / km to finish strong in 5:30. I was caught up in the atmosphere and friends that gave me a false sense of confidence.
1hr 10km, 2hr 20km, 3hr 30km, 4hr 40km. What happened to my plan. Scorching through the km’s was a tester and great for mid life crisis. Sense and sensibility did not feature, I pounded ahead until 46km. The wheels came off with 4km to go. Dig deep, but the reserves were totally depleted.
It wasn’t a pleasant sight seeing Jaffer walking, walking, a broken man. What am I doing here. Why do I do this. Yasien left me …… Farhana left me !!!
Crying, bitching, moaning, talking to myself, talking out loud. Swearing and blaming everything and everyone else except myself …… and making thikr in the same breath, not a pleasant sight. Confusion of the highest degree, was this the onset of dehydration or just a grumpy, old man. Go Tata someone shouted! I loved that. ..