I feel like an old man. It took some time to get out of bed this morning, what with all the concrete and lead residing in my legs. The feeling is very familiar to me, but after a long break the severity of it always comes as a surprise. Apart from the muscle ache, it feels roughly the same as your common hangover.

I ran the half-marathon yesterday at the Suvi-Ilta (Summer Night) event in Forssa. I completely blew it as far as my plan and goal is concerned. The plan was to start slow at about 4 min 10 s per km, monitor the pace carefully, accelerate slightly in the second half if possible, and finish with something like 1.26 or 1.27 on the clock. Well, it turned out I knew my condition very well but was unable to execute the plan. This is something I knew would be difficult. I suppose a part of me just found it impossible to ignore the number on my chest and the other runners trotting alongside. Somehow the setting gave me the mistaken notion that I'm still a competitive runner.

So I started out at 3.50/km with a good pack of runners around me. Lots of familiar faces too. When I realised my pace at the 3 km post, it was already too late to slow down in a controlled manner to save the race. I simply decided to see what's coming - miracles have been known to happen before. At 8 km, my legs felt like they should have felt at 15 km. And then we had to push the second half against the wind. By the 15 km mark, my method of movement had been reduced to "walking the tightrope" - the state where one just tries to survive to the finish. Mere jogging, really, so slow that I didn't even breath heavily, with a clear awareness that any change of pace might cause a cramp somewhere. Middle-aged ladies (well-trained ones, though) passed me while waving at the crowd. A few guys I know did the same, and we exchanged the usual comments with grins. I guess the basic experience of "hitting the wall" is the richest source of running-related humour and slang. At 18 km, an old friend came from behind and told me to wake up or my brother might catch up with me too. Let him, I said, I'll give him my watch. He may still have need for it.

I finished at 1.30,24, then avoided sitting down for the next 15 minutes because I thought I might not get up very easily. Well, at least I got a t-shirt, food, and the knowledge that some sense in pacing would have easily improved my time by several minutes. The conditions weren't good either - way too warm (23 C) and windy. Now I'm already considering training a bit more systematically for the next two months. Could get close to 1.20 in August. 14:28