I enrolled in the Lindfield Fun-Run this past April with an old mate of mine. We’re both (for want of a more PC term) … fat. So, it was a completely new experience for us and we had no intentions of actually “running” as we knew it would definitely diminish the degree of “Fun.”

The day started badly when Big Show (his poker call-sign) showed up with coffees instead of Gatorade. Outraged, I said to him “we’re supposed to be ELITE athletes, not LATTE athletes.”

Our newbie-concerns were compounded when we noticed the number I had pinned to my chest, was a different colour to Big Show’s. I had accidentally signed up for the 10km-Run instead of the 2km-Walk. Oh God, was this legally binding??

At the start line and the activity level was frenetic! They were all shedding their outer garments for professional looking, Olympic-level running gear. We were not prepared for this multi-layer approach. Lycra clad people buzzing all around us were stretching, psyching, fiddling with watches and taking pulses. I knew Big Show would struggle to find his pulse under his layer of “insulation.”

Being our first Fun-Run we had a few unanswered questions:

• Are there normally this many people out of bed on a Sunday?
• Were any of them still up from the night before?
• Should we stretch?
• Do they know we’re only going to walk? It wasn’t mentioned on our numbers.
• Should we drop to all fours as if using a sprinter’s starting block for the best start, as we had seen on tv? I have a fully-fused spine and Big Show is quite a stranger to “dropping.”
• Is there a medical tent? Just in case.

• Where did the competitors put their keys, wallets and phones?
• Were we meant to line up based on our numbers? We hoped not because only deciding to run the day before, ours were really high. Should we force our way to the front?
• Why is everybody so slim?
• Is there any food or drinks provided during the race? We had seen the tables on tv where runners get Gatorade in little cups and Big Show did have a bit of a sweet tooth.
• Are there any mid-race breaks?
• We noticed we were the only runners that had coffees. Are these sort of artificial stimulants risking our anti-doping status?

We were asking each other these questions while standing under a large blue blow-up archway, which we assumed was the starting line. As it turns out, it was the finish line. We realised this fundamental error when it dawned on us that we were the only ones standing there and everybody else had disappeared, presumably pounding the pavement.

Indeed, WE HAD MISSED THE START. Our time was going to be abysmal.

To our complete dismay, we started to struggle a bit, not being incredibly fit. However once our second wind kicked in, we were confident the running would become much easier.

About halfway through the race we came upon an elderly lady holding a stop sign to control the traffic. Despite our best efforts we had dropped to last place and our time had been ruined by missing the start (and clearly not by Big Show’s level of fitness). She was really old and it was awesome to see her still getting out and contributing to the Hornswood way of life.

Big Show – “Keeping the cars under control? Your dress goes well with the hi-vis.” Big Show was quite chatty and did not appear to be struggling with the pace.

The old lady – “I can’t go home until the last runners are through. AND THAT’S YOU TWO IDIOTS.”

The sweet old lady whacked me on the butt with her stop-sign (I kid you not), I jerked my coffee and foam squirted out the little drink hole. Due to Big Show complimenting her dress, she treated him much more gently, placing the sign on his lower back and shoving him forward to get him moving. I’ll bet Steve Monaghetti didn’t have to put up with treatment like this.

Anyway, we made it to the end. Due to the cheering crowd, the looming finish-line, our own innate sense of pride and the fact that we spotted a professional photographer, we decided to run the last 10 metres. My apologies for the “quality” of the video, at the time I had not thought of writing this blog.

We then rested, visited the rehydration station and proceeded to wash the coffee taste out of our mouth.

Just as we were high-fiving and congratulating each other on a race well-run, we spotted our great mate Andrew Heaven (aka Axe – his poker callsign) who’d actually run the 5km and approached the finish line sucking in air and sweating profusely. We proceeded to heckle.

“COME ON AXE, PUT SOME EFFORT IN. IT’S A FUN-RUN, NOT A FUN-STROLL.”

“ENJOYING YOUR WANDER IN THE PARK THERE AXE? CAN WE GET YOU A COFFEE?”

“LOOK AT YOU SWEATING AXE! TALK ABOUT UNFIT! WE’RE THINKING OF DOING ANOTHER LAP JUST TO KEEP OUR HEART-RATE UP.”

To recharge the batteries Big Show and I headed to Goodfields for lunch, assuming this is what athletes do after a morning of exertion. It’s amazing how many nods of recognition and hearty congratulations you get when you wear your medallion and carry your accidental-10km-Run number.

Big Show and I proceeded to wear our victory medals to the next half dozen or so poker nights. I think the lads were pretty impressed. We were actually giving serious consideration to signing up for the Boston Marathon, having conquered the Lindfield… Damn these Covid restrictions. Damn them all to hell.

PLEASE USE THE BUTTONS BELOW TO SHARE FAR AND WIDE.

Thanks for reading. I write blogs oftentimes just to claim at parties much to my wife’s chagrin, that I am in fact… a writer. I write stuff for a few small businesses but I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art of blogging. And check out my the brilliant new craft-beer home delivery business I set up with a few North Shore mates (gettincrafty.com.au) Cheers