My first 10km race

Race day - Saturday 11th April. There is a first time for everything but how does it all work? I have only ever run alongside one other person and that was John who gamely tried to run slowly enough to match my speed. I went to the cheap sports shop last week and bought some shorts as I thought trackies would look a bit daft. Had my number through the post and had to find safety pins to attach to my t-shirt.
About 350 runners were congregating at Boscombe Pier when we arrived at about 10:20. The race was due to start at 11:00 am. Weather was fine with the sun peering out of the cloud every now and then. Temperature - pleasant and no wind.
We all gathered in a big crowd. I was somewhere in the middle. The klaxon went and everybody surged forward, slowly at first until the crowd gathered some momentum. Then, almost everybody streaked away from me. I was aware that there were people behind me but I was almost certain that about 340 of them were disappearing into the distance. One of the things John had said to me when suggesting that I enter this race was, " . . . you know you'll never be last . . ". Gulp, the prospect of such ignominy rushed into my head. I had visions of Teresa waiting at the finish line long after the last runners had crossed the line, wondering which hospital I might have been taken to, or whether I would arrive back before dark.
The course took us along the promenade towards Hengistbury Head where a slope took us up to the road at the top. It was only about 75 metres at most and I had no trouble running up. This was my first overtaking manoeuvre. Somebody was walking up! A steward was holding up traffic to allow us all to cross the road. As I crossed I heard him say to one of the patient motorists, "Only one more". Oh no, that confirmed it. There was just the one guy that I had passed, behind me!
We ran along the road and I ventured a glance behind me. Ah, perhaps there is a god. There were a number of stragglers back there. But, as I ran along, one by one they seemed to be passing me. At the 4 mile mark I checked my watch. I checked it again because I thought it said 11:36. That seemed impossible because my previous estimates were around 12 minutes per mile. I pounded along up a gentle gradient of about a mile or so. I did manage to pass three more walkers on this stretch. The 5 mile mark appeared. Not too far now, then the 6 mile mark, Oh goodness, how much further! Then the slope back down to the promenade and the finish line. Liz was shouting encouragement about 100 metres from the line (thanks Liz!), and then I tried to speed up along the final stretch. God that seemed a long way. Teresa and John were cheering me along which was great and apparently my time was under 64 minutes, which I find unbelievable.
A picnic on the beach followed and a snooze in the car on the way home just about finished the day for me. But, a great run and looking forward to the next in a masochistic kind of way.