Had a manic day, culminating in a meeting at Moelis (Enda's place) at 3.30pm where I started checking my watch every 30s once the clock ticked over 4:15pm. Eventually, one of the chaps on the other side said something like "I understand you're keen to leave Tom, Enda mentioned you may get like this.". So I made my apologies and left. Got to Martin Place station and met Jeet, LJ, Jac and Birchy. I can't get the official bus anymore, I get too nervous being stuck on it. Arrived at Centennial is light rain so we all huddled nervously in the Allens tent.
What I love about this race is that everyone from HuRTs is there, whether going for it (as most are) or just soaking up the atmosphere. You warm up and see all your training mates plus some blasts from the past (Richie Palmer, Charlie Low, etc.). We're then held on the start line in the coldish rain by none other than Benny Saint acting in an officiating capacity. The bigwigs from JPMorgan obviously couldn't find sufficient umbrellas as they were late to make the pre-race announcements leaving us more nervous and miserable than ever. Here's a photo of me to prove it:
Finally, we're off. Plan from the start was to sit in a pack and attack the final km. Easy. Didn't quite work out.
Going up the hill I follow CT and Crossy at a quickish but manageable pace. Turn the corner at the top and Crossy drops a bit leaving me and CT to lead. We head towards Woolhara Gates and have we got a lead? Feels that way. Hey, it's a showdown between me and CT!
Then down the hill and someone bolts past us like we're standing still and immediately puts 30m on us. Far out, it's Holt Hardy! I was only talking to him in Monday. CT turns and asks me "Is he in the race?" Then Neil suddenly comes past so I jump on the back of him with CT seeming to drop a bit.
Through 3km and there's Gary telling us to work together and we'll reel him in for sure. I'm not so sure. He's looking comfortable. But then he's proved right and we're cutting into his lead. After 4km (towards McKay Oval) we go past and I push on a bit, into the lead. Fuck me, I'm in the lead and I'm going to win JPMorgan! Then some fella (Brett Halls) suddenly breezes past like I'm standing still. I can't match it. Fuck it, I'm gone. Turn Fox Studio gates and someone comes up to my shoulder, argh fuck it again it's Neil. Maybe 3rd will do, it's a podium after all. No. Can't let him beat me. Barts would be too disappointed. So on the rise from 5km to the Cafe I just nail myself and get a gap. This is the gap on the final turn (photo courtesy of Greta):
From then on, I sprint for the line. Congratulate Brett on the win (he seems non-plussed), turn around and see everyone coming in. Holy moley Barts is 3rd. Where the hell did he come from? A great result considering his recent return from injury and just goes to show how much racing depends on belief and determination. Then Neil. A great run by him and he really is an all-rounder. We know how good at the marathon he is but obviously has plenty of speed as that's the second great JPM he's run in consecutive years. Then bloody Toby stumbles across the line, pipping CT in the process. A massive run by him and my vote for HuRTs Improver of the Year.
We get ushered along but not before I see Erika coming in second in 19:41. Holy crap, another huge performance with a time that's within 11s of LJ's PB and a time that would have won her the race in the majority of the previous 10 years.
Then follows plenty of beers and chat in the Allens tent before we head to the Light Brigade. Jeet and Bruce attempt the worst smokebomb in history along Oxford Street, while Macca, Hamish and I end up in Maisy's for the second round of burgers and milkshakes at 1am. Another perfect night. Apart from Donald Trump being voted in as President.
Serious talk:
The crowd:
HuRTs Ladies:
The Light Bridgade:
1 comment:
Nice one Tom. Standing in the freezing cold was ridiculous it was bad enough for the fat boys. Toby has to be a shoe in for improver of the year. He has dropped big time off of good times.
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