A perfect 10

(Draft) 
But I wear a 12.  Although CS decided to buy me some work trousers. How kind of him!  In size 14.  What a bastard!  He had some serious making-up to do if he was ever going to get to see the contents of those tried-on trousers in the near future.  OK, they fitted perfectly but that's not the point.

I'm actually 10 whole kilos over my ideal race-weight.  I'm not really sure how that happened, as I was probably drunk at the time.  Ah, I might have answered my own question.  Anyway, that's not the point either.

The Brooks 10k is a local race that's held in November every year, and involves running, well, 10k, up and down the Brighton & Hove seafront.  I've had a bit of a history with this event.  I've signed up for it a record five times, but only actually managed to run it once.  Here's a potted history;

1. 2010 - I got hit by a truck six weeks beforehand and broke three bones in my back.  I can't believe I asked my physio if I could still run it whilst lying immobile, trying (but failing) to pee into one of those upside down cardboard hat things they optimistically hand out in hospital. 
2. 2011 - I moved house.  Oh and left a husband.
3. 2012 - SUCCESS!  Me'n'Sis had a ball!
4. 2013 - A hastily arranged family get-together.  Apparently I had to get my priorities right.
5. 2014 - A hastily arranged trip to St Lucia.  I got my priorities right.  <insert link>

I gave my place to a friend on the condition that he ran a PB in my name.  I got the automated text saying that I'd run the 10k in a Brooks-PB-breaking time (13 seconds faster than in 2012!) whilst lying on the beach eating breakfast and drinking rum punch.  Fistpump!  But sorry, that's not the point either.

I will get there in the end, honest. (That's what I tell myself every time I run 10k)

This week I managed to catch up with said friend, and congratulated him on giving me a PB.  He looked very guilty.