Mount Faber, two - Graham one
And not particularly good value. For $25 we got a T-shirt (which I don't wear) and the most pathetic "goodie bag" ever ( a few small cartons of juice). No number, and no timing for the run. Of course I timed myself, but how do I know what my approximate position in the pack was?
With a 7:30 am start time, Chrissy and I got there at 7:15 and Jack showed up a little later. There were one or two volunteers (ok, it was for charity, but still...) and the list of runners did not show up till 7:30. They announced that running would start at 8:00am, but when that rolled around they announced some (shudder) community stretching.
I mooched around the start line, so as not to be caught behind the plodders and when they let us loose in batches of 25, I was off with the first group.
In fact, I was in front.
I know that I tend to get off to a quick start and try to regain myself in, but this time I was out in the lead. After quarter of a mile I was worrying that I had taken a wrong tun and glanced over my left shoulder. By the time I looked forward again, four or five had overtaken me on my right. So - situation normal.
We turned the first corner and saw the depth of the organizing bastards' treachery - Mount Faber loomed dead ahead!
I wasn't going to let it defeat me this time! After all, at 345 "towering feet", it may be the highest point in Singapore, but it's still only 345 feet.
345 feet at 30 degrees; it seemed vertical.
Still, it's technically running so long as one foot off of the ground at all times, so, as those who had overtaken me slowed an walked, I gritted my teeth and "ran" up. Yay! Mount Faber, one - Graham, one.
All the way back to the bottom where a group of cyclists were sitting around. They gave a cheery wave and I replied with a cheery taunt of "amateurs".
And then, instead of turning left and going further down, as the previous race had done, we turned right, and climbed again. There being no marshals around, we took a collective guess and turned left into Henderson Park, where broad, wooden walkways rise over the tops of the trees, offering a spectacular view - and a bloody steep climb, to 81m.
We descended again, which is no fun when so steep, And, inevitably rose, from ground level to another walkway this one a mere 76m above sea-level.
Down somewhat and "level" mile, rising only at about 10 degrees. A mile from home and we are beginning to believe that we are going to make it after all, when we turn a corner and a group of about twenty actually stop, stand still and gape at the bloody hill above us.
I tried, buhdda knows I tried, but had to quit and join the walkers. Eight bloody minutes it took to walk up that hill, as quickly as I good. A hundred meters flat, so I started running again, round the corner and there was the climb to the finish line, which the ass-hats had placed at the top of Mount Faber.
I _like_ running, but I have never been too keen on mountaineering.