So what was the night before?
The night before was the first competitive track meet I've been to in about 12 years. This particular meet was a league match of the southern veterans athletic club - a sort of neutral club - who run the league, known as the masters.
I had decided to rejoin my old club, Bexley AC, partly for sentimental reasons, and partly because I know a few of the athletes who haven't had a sabbatical like me. It also helped a bit that my dad was organising the team.
However, as much as I am sure he would want to see me run again, he is very competitive as well, so my lack of training meant a run was not guaranteed.
Undeterred, I was told it would be likely that I could run as a guest should I not be required, so I made my way to the Sutcliffe Park Athletics Track in Eltham. It's a compact 6 lane track that I've run at many times before and stepping back there brought back a lot of memories (including the infamous hangover meeting after my 18th birthday party).
As expected, there were a number of familiar faces from the club, including John Bancroft, Kevin Winch, Graham Holder and Sarah Colvill - who was also competing in her first masters, but has been competing continually since we were teens.
I also managed to bump into my old geography teacher who is involved in athletics with Dartford Harriers, and another guy from a club who I used to compete against way back when.
My mum was distributing numbers and pins, and told me I was down for the b-string 400m. It was an hour before the race but decided a good warm up was needed so started to jog around the track.
As I did so, it was clear that these were athletes in a different stage of life. There was chat about work, how bad the traffic had been, and a faint smell of deep heat now and again. Some had also brought their kids - previously the parents role was to watch their offspring, but last night was a role reversal.
Having no idea how fast I could run, my race strategy was to hope for an inside lane, watch the other runners and try to stay with them. I checked in with the marshal, and was given lane 6, the worst possible draw.
So there was no option now, the only thing to do was to run hard from the start and hope for the best.
The gun went and the first 100m went well as no one came sprinting past me. If that happens so early when you are on the outside, there is little chance of making that deficit back. The top bend came, my legs were starting to feel the burn and I knew that this is where the race would fully unfold. A couple of glances to my left to see who was coming round to overtake but saw none of the other athletes.
As I moved onto the final straight I realised that I was actually leading but could hear the guy in the lane next to me. The legs were now burning and it felt like running through treacle. The finish line could not come soon enough and I crossed it, to finish first!
And then came the pain. My legs wobbled, my chest felt like it would explode and the oxygen debt I had created caused an instant headache. It took a full hour before I could eat or drink anything and so in the meantime, I went to the results area to find out my time.
To my surprise, I'd managed to get round in 58.1s - a new pb for the 400m (see previous post on personal bests).
So is best do some training now. I've got racing to do!
