Sunday 30 March 2014

The last leg of the journey


Here I am, sat in my pyjamas only a week away from my first marathon.

I don’t know how to feel anymore, my mind jumps between all encompassing fear to giddy excitement. I have started dreaming about the marathon, and they are nearly always nightmares. I accidentally do the half, instead of the full and end up hours later than everyone else. I forget all my water and energy gels, and just have to hope that I can finish without collapsing.

The thing about marathon training is, that as it creeps closer and closer, it becomes the thing everyone wants to talk to me about and the thing I want to talk about the least. I suddenly feel embarrassed when I have to tell people my longest run was 18 miles, and they suck in their teeth as a sign of respect.

I want to grab them and say, seriously it isn’t that great – I say ran, but most of it was me cursing at trees and at my own legs. Some of it definitely wasn’t even running; it was tired walking hoping it would all end.

I guess that is where the terror comes from, the feeling of pure inadequacy!

On the other hand, there is something wonderful about it all. I can run 10 miles, and say, that was just a 10 miler. As if 10 miles was a normal distance to spend pummelling pavements. I am now fit enough that most runs under 8 miles, just feel kind of boring, my body itches for me to grab onto that runners high from when I first began.

Even just completing a simple 5k is an achievement (finally under 30 minutes!).

I now have a strange relationship with my running gear. And as cheesy as it sounds, when I put on my striders and trainers, I feel strangely empowered. These are the clothes I wear to break down personal barriers, to go beyond anything I could have imagined. It feels good.

And on the day, I get to see my friends and my family. I get to be cheered on by random strangers, meet others who have been working as hard as me.

In many ways my training didn’t really go as planned, I missed countless long runs due to various illnesses and injuries, and in the last month became quite slack. I drank too much, ate badly, choose the pub over the gym, smoked when I should have quit, basically lots of bad things.

BUT here’s a little secret that the running community sometimes don’t reveal to you – its ok, because despite all that I am still running. Look up running on the Internet and too much of it seems made to make you stop. People can be snobby, and cruel. Not all of them of course, there is a great camaraderie in running. 

However, sometimes there are snobs, and those snobs can make you feel bad. They moan about slow runners, they berate those attempting 5 hour marathons, and they pretty much have a go at those who don’t fit the healthy standard for a ‘runner’. (As I said, not all, there are plenty of lovely encouraging people out there too!)

I learnt to not let it get to me, because the simple fact is, I am running – even if my training went askew, even if I am not the healthiest person, or my mile times are just faster than walking – I am running. I hate the idea that people are put off, thinking they need to be the picture of health before they start, when really you can do it whatever your habits!

So here I am, on the final stretch! I have no more aspiration than to cross the finish line. I am hoping my stubbornness will force me to keep up with my 5 hour pace group and that someone will be waiting with food and a beer at the end (or a coke, I always crave coca cola after doing long runs).

Let’s hope I can hobble away from this experience, with a tiny feeling that I might do this all again sometime.

Until race day… WISH ME LUCK.

Also we have made over £1,000 in sponsorship, which is bloody awesome :D




Friday 21 March 2014

Run forest run


I have been awful at updating this blog recently, pretty much like the running itself once you stop its hard to keep going.

So here’s what has been happening.

Halfway to victory

I ran a half marathon in 2 hours 15 minutes. When my friend told me that was the time we were aiming for, I laughed heartily for a bit and said: “No chance.”

But due to stubbornness on my part, and refusing to get left behind I diligently followed at a pace of just over 10 minute miles for the whole thing.

It was a strange experience. First off it was on a motor racetrack, and you had to loop it six times before you were allowed to finish. The crowd of cheering families and supporters was less of a crowd and more a collection of people in coats wondering why they were spending their Sunday afternoon watching someone pass them 6 times in the freezing cold over 2 hours.

I learnt some valuable lessons that day, namely:

The less clothes, the more serious the runner. If someone is wearing tiny running shorts and a vest, they are planning on going FAST. If they’re in a fleece, probably slow. 

WIND is EVIL. There was so much wind, blasting itself uncomfortably into my face for half of every lap. Note – swearing at the wind doesn’t make it go away, but does make you feel better. 

I am faster than I thought – due to always running alone, I tend to go on the slow side, mainly due to a fear of not being able to finish and having to just give up and die on the side of a road somewhere in Brussels. 

I can run 5k under 30 minutes (FINALLY). 

Running fast makes my legs sad – despite the happiness from running much faster than I thought, I now have a perpetual problem in my left ankle – that does not seem best pleased, which led to 2 weeks off.

Energy gels are awesome. 

People definitely shouldn’t take pictures of you when you’re running.

RUN FOREST RUN

As I said, due to problems in my left ankle, followed by genuine fears I’d never even get to the starting line of the marathon, I had to take two weeks off. I therefore set myself a goal, if I could do 18 miles before the race, I’d run, if not I’d sack it off.

Good news, I ran (or at least propelled myself forwards for 18 miles) at the weekend and man was it hard.

I rather stupidly thought I’d mix things up and try running in the forest, it’ll be lovely, I thought naively.

First off Brussels has a big ol’ forest at the bottom of the city, and it has three routes marked out for runners: 5k, 10k, 20k. My idea was to do the 20k, then the 10k, which I did (I also walked back to the metro station, so in fact I did more than 30k).

BUT Jesus effing Christ was I not prepared for off road running. Normally, when you run you go in a straight line and you look down at your running watch – and you can see the miles tick by.

Not on off road! Due to winding paths, and steep hills, and gangs of elderly Nordic walkers (watch our for those sticks) – every time I looked at my watch, I seemed to have barely gone half the distance I thought I had.

At one point I ran up a massive hill, ended up in a car park, realized I was terribly lost, and had to take a minute to compose myself – and basically think, do I have to start a new life living in the forest with only running gear for company? Luckily, I found my path and started up again.

By 16 miles, I had run out of water, my legs were complaining loudly. I pathetically tried running for 30 seconds at a time, then went back to walking. It was at that moment; I could have given up. I seriously would have given anything right there to just stop, but I didn’t. I soldiered on.

AND my watch died. So I never found out how far I really went, taking into account getting lost, it must have been about 19 miles! Bloody hell.

My foot is now back to niggling away at me, but I read something recently that stuck with me.

Running a marathon isn’t about the day, that’s just one day of your life. It’s about the months of sweat, swearing and sucking it up you have to do beforehand.

So yeah – I just need to get through one day and its done.

2 weeks to go.

(In addition I have started having constant nightmares about the marathon itself - hurrah!)