Last weekend I crashed an event.
I don't think I have so blatantly gatecrashed anything since Hubby and I drunkenly convinced half of the Churchlands Senior High School reunion (a school that neither of us attended) that we were in fact their long lost, (thirsty) mates from ten years previous. Complete with badges, stories of teenage heartbreak and sporting prowess.
Last weekend I wasn't inebriated and I didn't deliberately or brazenly disregard common decency. I just ran.
On Sunday morning, our gorgeous friends whisked Magoo away for a play with our godson and sent me packing on a two hour training run. Bless em.
I happily headed North from their place along the coast and pounded that pavement past my favourite beaches - totally dismissing the "road closed" signage (cause I'm not a vehicle, see) and wondering about the bulk car park action going on in an usually quiet stretch of the coast.
On I ran, still not twigging as more and more lycra clad bikes (or riders) whizzed past my right shoulder.
Not comprehending when people on the roadside (commonly known as spec friggin tators, Shar) commented "wow, well done girl".
And then finally - ku ching - it hit me. I was in the midst of a triathalon.
And apparently I was bloody well winning it.
Sure enough, a few kilometres along the running track a group of officials jumped to their feet and rushed to get this earlier than expected competitor a much needed refreshment. Unlike at the CSHS reunion, I was gracious enough not accept beverages I was not entitled to.
I spent the next few kilometres waving off offers of water, shaking my head at my very own roadside fan club, constantly mumbling about not being a competitor and even fending off the official who tried to direct me, victorious, into the finisher's chute.
So, to all those lovely spectators - thank you for your encouragement - it was a long, hard training run and I appreciated your support!
To anyone who competed in the triathalon between Hillarys and Mullaloo last Sunday morn(including my bride on this weekend's hens do, one of my students and of course the genuine winning female) I'm very sorry for crashing your party. You're most welcome at my marathon in June.