Hyper
Sunday was the big day. The Great Manchester Run.
I woke up, childishly excited at 4.45am. By 6am I was ironing my name onto my Cancer Research running vest and pinning on my number. By 7.30am, when Mr Duck Senior, a marathon veteran arrived, I was talking nineteen to the dozen and pacing.
I wasn't due to race till 11am! 'You have to calm down or you'll burn out before we even get there' - he counselled.
It was a perfect day for running - sunny but cool. Mr Duck Senior and JP went to watch from the Cheering Bus, while I headed for the Green start. My phone buzzed with good luck messages that warmed my heart.
I just couldn't stop grinning. It was brilliant. I fired up my iPod as I crossed the start gantry at my normal running pace, despite the temptation to set off like a rocket. The course is very flat, unlike my usual routes at home.
I grinned as I ran down Chester Road.
I grinned as I ran up to Old Trafford.
I sang Viva Ronaldo as I ran through the tunnels around my favourite place in the world.
I grinned as I headed towards the canal and the 5k sign.
I felt fantastic, full of energy and slow! So I abandoned my dad's advice and started to run like a mad eejit.
The spectators were calling my name and cheering. I couldn't believe so many people recognised me. Then it occurred to me, perhaps they were mistaking me for a celebrity presenter who shares my first name. They smiled and waved, so I waved and smiled back.
After 8k and a shower, I finally worked out that they were just reading the name that I'd ironed on at 6 that morning.
I waved at my personal support team on the Cheering Bus, who waved back with giant foam fingers.
I sprinted for the finish and posed for an 'after' photo - still grinning and amazed that my teeth weren't black with flies.
I donned my medal and almost headed back to the start. I felt like going round again.
I was hyper all day Sunday, and not much calmer yesterday. Normality was eventually restored today.
With just a hint of grinning, as I stare at the medal on my desk.
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