Nerves are a funny thing before an event like this. Why do I get nervous before a fun run? It's not like I'm a chance to win the thing. It's the fear of not performing at the level I should, or of potentially being scraped off the road by St Johns Ambulance, or of not being able to find a port-a-loo should an emergency arise.
Our hotel was right next to the start line and the weather was looking ominous. The siblings + bro-in-law-to-be arrived and we took some nervy photos before heading down to meet the running group in the foyer. This was about the time it started to absolutely pour down outside. Apparently in the history of Sydney's City to Surf it has never rained. There's a first for everything! People were crammed under the eaves/reception of our hotel at 7.30, while the rain bucketed down.
Toni had injured herself at netball the week before, so she and I were the only non-competitors. The rain cheered us up no end! Luckily for the 80,000 or so people about to take part, the rain stopped about 20 minutes before the start.
Start line photo: Roslyn Rajasingam
Toni and I smugly hopped under the umbrella and flagged down a cab to Bondi. Couldn't help but feel glad to be rugged up and enjoying the scenery. While 80,000 people were heaving their way along the winding, undulating, hilly course from the city to Bondi beach, we were tucking into our eggs and bacon.
Photo: AAP
We finished up just in time to find a great spot on the side of the road about 600m from the finish line. We cheered the top ten through, then gave the leading women some special cheers. Freaks, all of them.
Toni's partner Jason, our training guru, came through in the freakish time of 53 minutes, making it look oh so easy. Then we watched the running group girls come through, one by one, over the next 40 minutes or so. We managed to see most of them, which is pretty good considering the intense scanning you have to do amongst the sea of humanity that charges past.
Last year we all wore black singlets and hot pink hats with the slogan "Pain schmain, more champagne". This year the girls were harder to spot without the pink hats, but for each one we spotted we gave a huge cheer, and were rewarded with responses as different as their running styles - jigs on the spot, oblivion due to ipod and focus, high fives, delayed reaction waves, laughs, groans, grins, grimaces.
As well as the running group, we saw my family, starting with my BILTB Tim who was struggling hard when he came past (in great time of 71 minutes). He's had a foot injury for a long time, and hasn't been able to train much, so that was a great effort. Soon after we saw Frannie, also looking pained, but in her usual fantastic time of 71 minutes, shortly followed by my sis Jane looking comfortable in an excellent time of 72 minutes in her first C2S.
My brother Luke had left his registration late and was stuck in the back-of-the-pack yellow group, where you run about 18kms rather than 14, because of all the people/gorillas/prams you have to dodge past. Can't believe we missed him going past, as his smoking time of 66 minutes should have stood out amongst the sea of blue/yellow group. My other sis Elle came through with the blue group in her goal time of 100 minutes, doing a big PB in terms of distance, and running the whole way without stopping.
So much to be proud of!
They had drawn on the memory of our grandparents, who they were running in honour of, to get up Heartbreak Hill and beyond. Grandma would say "that was a good show".
People sometimes ask me why I put myself through kms of pain and the early morning trainings. That's the beauty of a fun run like C2S. It's an achievement to finish. Sometimes it's an achievement just to get to the start. It's about setting a goal, pushing yourself beyond what you think are your limits, realising that your body is capable of much more than you give it credit for, and achieving the satisfaction of knowing that you've done your best. The endorphins and better bod are a bonus!
Spectating was fun, I had appreciated the cheers and claps from spectators last year, so it was nice to pay it back. We pepped up the man in his 70s who stopped running just in front of us, so that he started again. We cheered each of the 'Legends' we saw (a group of 30 or so men who have run each of the 41 City to Surfs). We encouraged the guy whose shoelace came undone in front of us while he cursed and struggled to tie it back up.
We hollered for the inspiring top group of women who were holding their own against much bigger and stronger men. We applauded the woman who not only had to contend with 14kms, but a severe disability affecting her arms. The wheelchair athletes. The young children hoofing it with their parents. The obese competitors, determined to turn their health around. So many inspiring people. And of course we high fived the male topless waiters as they cruised past.
If you're a runner you'll appreciate this amusing video, a runner trying to explain running to a non-runner. It rings true on so many levels. I especially love the bit about everyone getting a medal, not just the winner. "That is stupid". We wear our losers medals with pride, because we're all winners!
And just so I don't feel too left out, here's Fran and I after last year's C2S: