So I did something quite bizarre yesterday. I embarked on the annual Wanderers / Old Eds Pub Run, which entailed a 10km run, with four stops at pubs along the way.
I don’t know what I was more nervous about – the 10km (having only ever run that far once in my life) or the drinking (I’m very much a light-weight as those that know me are too aware) or the combination of the two.
I had heard scary stories about shots at every stop, people vomiting on the side of the road, stumbling through the last stretch and then a whole bunch of randoms jumping into the pool naked at the end.
Luckily, three of my housemates were also taking part so I definitely felt morally supported.
One of them, G, was possibly more nervous than me and had bought supplies for the event on his way home: pasta salad to carbo load, energade for that extra kick and a little packet of peanuts of raisins in his pocket for that mid-race energy boost (so cute!)
We also came to the conclusion that this was meant to be something exciting and enjoyable seeing as we had chosen to do it, and paid for the experience!
Upon registering we were all given an amusing shirt to set the tone, with the slogan: I’m not an alcoholic, I’m an athlete (this was definitely swapped around by the end of the night). My shirt was not in the pile (panic!) and then we realised that someone else had taken it, so I was Lauren Freeman for the night [we met later and reclaimed our identities!]
The 150-strong group set off from the club at a leisurely pace (a slow start, I like) and then speeded up to a gentle jog (this was going to be ok). It didn’t take too long before we reached the first pub, where I eagerly gulped down my first Savannah. G and I were the only ones with sweaty faces…hmmm! We put the blame on our sweat suits (Free shirt over our original one) and then we were ready for the next leg.
Not so fun running with bubbles fizzing in your tum, and knowing that you still have a long way to go. A taxi hooted loudly, cheering us on!
A bit of an uphill, G fell by the wayside and decided to walk, and then it was the Inanda stop. I chose a Spin – sweet for energy – rather sweet for slightly sick feeling!
Next leg….had a few moments when I could feel the bubbles bubbling up and had to take a few deep breaths to keep them down there – or at least only come out as burps!
Turtle Creek was our next stop, another delicious drink and then there is a heavy uphill to the last stop at Garden Court. – G chose a water at this point (only slight judging!)
And then it was time for the last stretch.
2 1/2 km!!! Uphill!!! Along Rivonia Road!!!
By this stage, the knees were getting sore and the drinks had definitely hit!! Got to run past a few prozzies on Oxford Street, one in just red lingerie and a coat (she asked one of the guys if he was coming back for her later) and then Hooray! We had reached the finish line at the Protea Hotel.
Tradition has always been to jump in the pool (fully clothed thank goodness) and so I duly took off my shoes, my grog jog shirt (clever thinking there Fluff!) and hopped on in.
Some of the security guards were not impressed and told us that the pool was only for hotel guests (I thought they were joking and playing along!) and then one guy went up to the scary looking white hotel manager to pretend to throw him in (all in the spirit right?) but he slipped on the wet tiles, and undercut the dude’s footing. He was FAR from impressed and told us to get out immediately (we were all canning ourselves). But shame, I think he felt rather humiliated!
So back to the start we went, dripping, to claim our final drink and munch on an enormous burger! A prize was handed out – running shoes, how appropriate – and then it was time for home (very wise decision considering I had to be at work the next day and a few weeks ago a Thursday night razzle ended very badly).
I think the alcohol only hit my system at about 1am – because I woke up disorientated, tried to take out my contacts again and then couldn’t sleep for an hour!
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