Run Phillip Run

The final 3 weeks for Phillip would be a loop from Brisbane to Maryborough then west, south and back east to Deception Bay. He arranged with Andrew and Paul to house sit for a few days before catching his flight home to England. Before he left their home he and Andrew took on the Redcliffe Park run. It was touch and go whether he would be able to make it as the night before he took ill. It was hard to work out if it was a touch of sunstroke or an upset stomach. He had started to feel unwell around 6pm on the Friday night. His stomach was aching and he had cold chills. Andrew advised rest but Phillip had cycled so far and completed so many Park runs that it pained him at the prospect of missing one. They decided to see how he felt the next morning and would go from there. For someone feeling ill he slept surprisingly well. Only the call of nature woke him a few times and with the amount of fluids he had consumed it was no real surprise. No strange front door deliveries or animal disturbances this night thankfully. It was 6am when he awoke. After a few minutes of getting his bearings, stretching and a nice cold glass of water he decided the Park run could be done. Many times he went to Park runs subconsciously saying to himself that this would be an easy one. Don’t push to hard and come in around 25 minutes. Today the intention was the same. Set off at a nice pace and don’t expect a personal best time. Redcliffe Park run consistently attracted around 200 people. With it’s flat course in a beautiful part of the north area of Brisbane, easy access and stunning beaches. The early morning sun was starting to heat up the runners as they listened to the welcome reception of the local Park run director. A few clouds hung in the sky offering the prospect of a quick and welcome shower but mostly it was blue. Phillip made his was to the line still thinking 25 minutes would be the target. He joined the crowd of runners waiting for the starting countdown but didn’t jostle to the front as he always thought it a mixture of bad manners to hold up quicker runners or slightly disheartening to have quicker people pass so early into the run. The run director did her final announcements then counted down, 3, 2, 1, Go. Phillip set off at a steady pace for the first kilometre. There were around 15 people in front who had pulled away quickly. His Strava app had been activated and the voice at the one kilometre mark relayed the message “1 kilometre complete, average pace 5 minutes per kilometre”. For the next few hundred yards no one else passed him as he stuck to his steady rhythm. It was at the 2 kilometre point that he picked up the pace. His stomach was feeling ok, his strength still there and his breathing normal. This wasn’t the time to Coast, this was Australia Day. A visiting foreigner letting his country down, taking an easy option when a harder and more fulfilling one was there to be met. Phillip kicked, pushed on and started to claw his way towards the leading pack. At 3 kilometres Strava advised, average pace, 3 minutes 45 seconds per kilometre. This was more like it. The adrenaline pumping, the runners being caught and passed. The rain started. Cooling down his body. His muscles tightened as he passed the 4 kilometre mark. Average pace 4 minutes per kilometre. The front runners were in range. He moved into the top ten with 500 meters to go. 9, 8, 7. He kicked with everything he had as the rain beat down harder. 6, 5. Push, he said to himself, push. The track run out. 4th place was his position. The missed opportunity would grate on his mind for days to come. If only he had hit that pace at the start he would have scored an Australia Day victory. He could have, he should have, for Queen and country he could have left everything on the Redcliffe foreshore. If he had died as he crossed the line in first place then at least there would have been a corner of a foreign field that would be forever England. Never again would he coast a Parkrun, never.