Charity, Culture

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On the 2nd of May 2010, 12 representatives from Bikesure all ran 10km in the Great East Anglian run for local charity Tapping House Hospice.

The runners and riders for this event were, Kyle “Minty” Benefer (me), Jon “Turbo GT” Mellish, Lee “Booboo” Boughen, Pete “Zilla” Sanctuary, Jon “Ladies Man” Howlett, Peter “Blockhead” Millward, Philippa “Model” Rowing, Robert “Texas Ranger” Walker, Jason “Never ran in my life” Masters, Robert “Skinny Twin” Botting, Thomas “TJ” Warner, and Matthew “Long Legs” Sopp.

In not so perfect preparation for this event, myself and a few other members did absolutely no training whatsoever. In fact the night before the run a few of us and a couple of loyal supporters gathered round my gaff for Fifa, a few beers, and a Chinese.

So as we all woke up on the Sunday morning, with a small hangover and a full belly, we all decided to meet in our local McDonalds for breakfast. Only joking, that would be ridiculous. We decided that we would all start the race in the same area, and keep together as a team. This lasted all of about 20 metres past the start line, where a few of us, not naming names, Blockhead, started walking and we got split up.

Speaking for myself I was very pleased with my initial effort. I got through the first 3km without stopping to walk. Bearing in mind I weigh nearly 16 stone I don’t think my knees could take much more of a pounding. At least that’s what I keep telling people. So as the hordes of serious runners came flying past me, my fellow lazy swine, Jon Howlett, tapped me on the shoulder just as I was about to start running again, and pleaded with me to wait for him. So begrudgingly I did, because I’m nice like that.

So after our easy stroll for 5 minutes, I looked back and saw a geriatric gentleman dressed up as a tomato. At which point I turned to Jon and said “I ain’t get beaten by no tomato, fool”. We quickly started off on another run, and 30 seconds later we hit the wall again, only to find the old boy tomato go straight past us without a bead of sweat on his face, and a cheeky little wave as if to say, see you at the finish line boys.

Not even half way, Jon says to me “My feet hurt. I think these trainers are giving me blisters”. I look down to see parts of his shoes hanging off. Probably not the best footwear if you’re running 10km. So I ask him “Did you find them in a skip on the way up here?” Only to find out that he borrowed the shoes from his Step-Dad, who only uses them for his gardening. Seeing as Jon is such a “Ladies Man” and far too “Trendy” (these are his words by the way) he doesn’t own a pair of running shoes, and therefore had to improvise. Maybe his fashionable plimsolls would have been a better choice.

As we’re doing our best to get round the course, we have our loyal supporters Bunts and Dyer standing around with their tins of Strongy, geeing us up at various different stages of course. This for me, had no positive input at all. I started to wonder, why am I putting myself through so much punishment, why am I not standing with Bunts and Dyer with a Strongy in my hand. Then I remember that Soppy is to blame for arranging this whole fiasco.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, and when I get some energy back, I will have my vengeance.

Anyway back to the race. Jon is now running around in just his socks. He hasn’t yet thrown his shoes in the bin where he found them, as he fears he may have a backlash from his Step-Dad for losing his favourite gardening shoes.

I’m going to miss out the middle section of the race as there was really nothing interesting happening. Unless you like to watch, unfit, lazy, fat people struggle a lot. The end of the race couldn’t come round soon enough, and I knew I had a big finish in me. We was in the final 150 metres and by this point I couldn’t be bothered to wait for Jon in his socks any more. Such a whiner.

Anyway, so I started picking up the pace and I was passing all the stragglers and some of the spectators started to cheer me on to the finish. I felt like a million dollars I was nearly there. Finally I had done it. Finished the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and collapsed flat on my face. Probably shouldn’t have sprinted that last 100 metres. Doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t have to do that ever again.

I completed it, in my eyes, in a very respectable 1 hour and 8 minutes, with no previous training and a few beers the night before. I walked straight past Linford Christie and went to find my fellow Bikesurians to bask in our glory.

On a serious note. I think we all enjoyed doing the race, and we all felt a lot better about ourselves and it made us even closer as friends and a team. Most importantly we raised a lot of money (over £600 and counting) for a very worthy cause.

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