Overview

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

Eh!

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

Shhh, I’m trying to sleep.

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

Oh dear god. It’s marathon day.

I switched off the alarm. 6.30. I had 3 hours and 15 minutes to complete the last 4 weeks of my neglected training. I thought this may be pushing it.

I lied in bed looking at the ceiling, collecting my thoughts and making a mental note of all the things I needed; shower, breakfast, Vaseline, running kit, water bottle, running chip.

I looked over at my girlfriend asleep. Just lying there, sleeping away without a care in the world. How can you sleep at a time like this?! Some people get all the luck. What I would give to be able to just fall back asleep and pretend the whole thing was just a bad dream. Run a marathon? Me? Today? Don’t be ridiculous.

I noisily got up, making a loud cough. Nothing. ‘Huh Hum!!!!!’, ‘You still asleep?’. Nothing.

It was no good, I’d have to peel my own banana.

I got into the shower and tried not to think too much about what lay ahead. I knew I was completely under prepared, but it was too late to worry about that now. At least I knew I could get to the 15.5 mile mark, with everything after that being uncharted territory. After my breakfast I slipped into my new shorts and had a quick stretch. I looked down at my watch, 7.30, it was time. I walked toward the door and took one look back over my shoulder. A thought flashed through my head, the next time I see this junk filled hallway I would have changed. I would walk differently, talk differently, think differently. I would be drunk.

I arrived at Greenwich station at around 9.00, and followed the crowd up the hill to the red start zone. I felt a little out of my depth. They all looked fit and healthy, head to toe in the latest sports wear – I had only just purchased my shorts from Lilywhites the day before for £5 and my T-shirt was 10 years old. Most people had several gel bars strapped round their waists. I hadn’t ever even tried a gel bar, and the one time I’d tried glucose tablets hadn’t ended well. How was I ever going to get around without even one gel bar? I told myself to stop worrying and just relax and soak up the atmosphere.

After making my final preparation I closed my bag and passed it over to the officials for it to be taken to the finish line, and joined what seemed like half of south London in the cue for the toilet, but with 15 minutes to go it gave me something to pass the time. It went quickly and before I knew it I was lined up with everyone else slowly moving toward the start. A chirpy Geordie helped relax the crowd over the tannoy, and at 9.55 I crossed the start line. I was off. 10 weeks of mediocre training had all built up to this life defining moment. I had already decided to take it really easy, and settled into a gentle jog.

I can quite honestly say the first mile went very very slowly, I thought for quite a while I had missed the sign. It wasn’t because I was tired, but with the crowd cheering and other runners chatting, there was a lot to take in and it took a while to process. When the mile marker came, I looked at my watch and saw it had taken just over 10 minutes. This was slow compared to my average training times, but it was at this point I decided to just settle into 10 minute miles and see how I was after 13 miles.

I hadn’t really known the course before I ran, but was very pleased to find out the majority of the first 6 miles is down hill, and when we met the runners from the other start zones at the 3 mile point I was feeling good. I was running down the centre of the dual carriage way, the sun was shining and the crowd was cheering. I took a look around and smiled.

Just as I went under the 5 mile marker I remembered that Jon from work would be outside a pub, on the left hand side, just passed the fly over. Suddenly the allure of alcohol had made this particular stretch of road thick with spectators and I held little hope of spotting anyone in the crowd. Then I heard a yell of ‘Rich’, and I turned round just in time to see Jon. I gave him a quick thumbs up and shouted back ‘Alright Jon!’ in a ‘fancy seeing you here’ sort of way, ‘I’m running a marathon don’t you know?’. This gave me a quick confidence boost, as I thought at least I had made it this far in one piece.

As we made our way deeper into real South London, and towards the Cutty Sark, the pubs became more frequent, the crowds thicker and the people denser. Everyone seemed to be loving the occasion, with local women (who were not exactly natural athletes - although I think they did share the same interest in jewellery as Jimmy Savile) handing out segments of oranges and jelly babies. The next couple of miles passed quickly and we were soon rounding the Cutty Sark. Hundreds of people, 6 or 7 deep from the barrier, cheered encouragement and I took another look at my watch. I was still on exactly 10 minute mile pace. I still felt good, but I knew there was a very long way to go and I would need to really look after myself over the next 6 miles.

And, well, I must have, because to be perfectly honest I can’t really remember them. The next point I remember well is going under the 12 mile marker, because 2 thoughts crossed my mind. Firstly, Tower Bridge must be just around the corner, and secondly, I’m starting to get really tired. The tiredness had overcome me like a huge wave. I’d felt fine until this point, but I think the relatively slow pace and crowds had taken my mind off it. However, from this moment on and for the next 14 miles, it would be very much on my mind.

I rounded a corner and Tower Bridge came into sight, as I made my way towards and over the bridge I tried to enjoy the moment, I had seen it on TV so many times before and now I was part of it, but I was too tired, I needed to walk. As we came off the bridge we turned into a tunnel and for the first time for the first 13 miles, there was no spectators. Other runners had taken the opportunity to stop and do some stretching, so I walked for the first time for about 100 meters.

It was at this point I realised running the first 13 miles of the marathon is a bit like going to the dentists, you get all worked up about nothing and then its over before you know it. However, I was soon to realise that running the last 13 miles of the marathon was a bit like going to the dentist, only to find out he’s going to have to amputate your foot, with no anaesthetic and Cliff Richards ‘Lords Prayer’ gently playing in the background.

As a sign of unity my girlfriend and friends had decided to make the City Pride public house their first viewing point, well it was a hot day they needed to quench their thirsts. The City Pride is at both the 15.5 mile and 18.5 mile points, and as I neared the pub I was starting to feel the tiredness come over me again, but I knew I had to carry on till I’d passed the pub, there was at least a couple of camera’s knocking about and I wanted my first sighting to be an action shot. As I passed the pub there was hundreds of spectators, and spotting anyone in the crowd was going to be difficult. However, in hindsight this was not necessary, as unfortunately they were cueing at the bar / staring into the bottom of a pint pot / having a bit a natter, so I went passed unnoticed. I reached the 16 mile marker and I was knackered. I started to walk. This was the first and probably only point that the thought crossed my mind that I may not finish. I had 10 miles to go and I felt spent. The heat was starting to get to me and the air felt thick. I ran / walked the next 2 and a half miles and made sure I was running when I next passed the City Pride. Then through the 4 or 5 deep crowd I spotted my friends and shouted a quick ‘Hello’. ‘You're doing well’ they shout back. ‘Yeh - feeling good’ I lied, and rounded the corner out of sight, where I collapsed back in to a slow crawl.

When I eventual reached the 20 mile mark I suddenly started to feel quite good. I knew I had only 6 miles to go, and felt sure even if I had to walk the remaining distance I would nevertheless make it to the finish. This gave me a quick boost of energy and helped me run for the majority of the next 2 miles. However, when I reached 22 I was dead on my feet. I had nothing left. I predominately walked, in terms of time anyway, the next 3 miles, only running when I felt recovered enough to stagger more quickly forwards for a few more yards. However, at 25 the crowds become louder than ever and you could tell the other runners were becoming more excited, a few more smiles were crossing their faces; we knew we were nearly there. I started to run and pulled on every ounce of training I had done over the previous 3 months. Soon a sign above our heads said it was 600 meters to the finish, then 400 meters, then 386 yards, then 200 meters. The finish was in sight, the crowds were creating a huge roar and I knew I had made it. After 3 months of training, weeks of discipline and hours of running I was about to cross the finish. I raised my arms as I crossed the line – it was over.

As I crossed the finish another runner turned round and shuck my hand, and I wobbled over to the side and sat down. I looked at my watch. My final time, 4 hours 44 minutes and 1 second. Slower than I had hoped, but I had made it. Three months earlier I couldn’t even run for 30 minutes.

I joined the queue with the other finishes, and had my medal placed round my neck, before making my way down to the meeting area. Melissa and Ryan arrived, and after I had regaled my story of the ecstasy and despair, they carried me down to the pub where I enjoyed a few well deserved pints.

After all that what have I learnt? What words of wisdom do I have to share with the world? Well firstly, anyone wanting to run a marathon must be stark raving mad. The only point of running a marathon is to put yourself through hell, and you should be locked away for your own protection. There are much safer and easier ways to be healthy. If you want to get fit – Great, go swimming or cycling, go for a nice walk, maybe even a jog around the neighbourhood; you don’t need to kill yourself to live longer. And secondly - next year I want to do it in less than four hours.

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……………….but unfortunately not enough to have a valid excuse not too run. Just a bit of a reoccurrence of the leg injury I had about a month ago. Shame.

Well with 3 days to go its safe to say, the decision to run the marathon was a very, very poor judgement. Why in the name that is all that’s Holy have I decided to put myself through this nightmare! Why I ask you? WHY? God only knows.

But there is no turning back. I’m in it to win it. Well, I’m in it to try and not completely humiliate myself.

The trouble is I have absolutely no idea how I will perform on the day. I know I am stupidly under trained, but after a 16 mile run I did about a week ago I genuinely felt I could have carried on if I had needed too – and had no choice. If I feel the same after 16 miles on Sunday I won’t be unhappy.

However, I must admit I can’t wait till its over and I can hopefully look back with fond memories, at a catastrophe avoided. I’m pretty sure running a marathon will be like taking an exam, once you get the result you completely forget about all the revision. But the way I feel at the moment I would probably spell my name wrong.

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08/04/09 Completed a 8.32 mile run in 1 hour, 12 minutes and 30 seconds

After recovering from a cold, cough and sore throat I finally got trainers back on and went for a run. After all my previous good work I was a bit worried it had all got to waste, so I set myself the challenge of running to work. The distance is only just under eight and a half miles, but it is the first relatively long run I have been on since my illness and the first time I have run to work. Straight away I was out of my comfort zone, the streets where busy, the traffic was heavy and I was tired right from the start, but if there is one thing training over the last couple of months has taught me, it’s to persevere even when all I want to do is go home and have a nice cup of tea.

Running is a series of peaks and troughs, and you just have to reassure yourself that even though you may be in a trough at the moment, a peak should be just around the corner – quite literally. And so it was yesterday. After four and a half miles I was confronted by a steep hill, which really took it out of me, but once at the top I slipped into a steady jog and the rest of the journey went with relative ease.

With a long bank holiday weekend ahead and only just over 2 weeks to go to the marathon, I really have no excuse but to put in a really long run this weekend. I always intended to do a 20 mile run 2 weeks before, but I think this would be pushing it way too far. I will aim to match the 15 and a half mile I have already done, and see how I feel at the time. If only I had started training earlier……………..

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25/03/09 Completed a 13.16 mile run in 1 hour, 53 minutes and 29 seconds

Ever since I started running I’ve found the one thing that unites the running and non-running communities is jogger’s nipple. It is the one area that everyone can have a good giggle about.

In the past I’d never really experienced the phenomenon, but I am delighted to say I have now officially joined the club. Following the completion of today’s run; I looked down to see two red patches of pure pride.

I’ve often thought that I was immune, and consequently no long distance runner would ever take me seriously. You know how it goes; you’re in a conversation with other runners and it comes round to running. They all share their embarrassing story about time they suffered its effects, and I’m forced to nod along knowingly, ‘Tell me about it – it happens all the time’, I lie. But now I’m one of them. I’ve ran far enough, hard enough, and often enough, to warrant another place to smear Vaseline.

This is all wonderful news, but I’m not looking forward to the lesser known running ailment – Joggers Knob.

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21/03/09 Completed a 6.03 mile run in 49 minutes and 47 seconds

22/03/09 Completed a 6.03 mile run in 48 minutes and 58 seconds

Unfortunately I never managed the 13 mile run I had planned to do at the weekend. I was just too tired, I don’t know why I was too tired, maybe it was because I had done no training all week, but whatever the reason it is not good.

So in an effort to get back on track I have decided to take tomorrow morning off work solely to try and do a 13 mile run before I go in for the afternoon. I feel mentally this is essential to get me back on track. I must admit I'm lacking a bit of motivation, and need to get my confidence back.

However, in a bid to boost my confidence and experience I’ve decided to run in the Leamington Spa 10K on the 5^th April. It’ll be my first race and only experience of the real thing before the marathon itself. I really have no idea what to expect, and if nothing else I’m just hoping not to embarrass myself.

Apparently running a race is 50% in the mind. But the trouble is I’m not sure my mind is up to it.

I’ve been told - Pain is temporary, failure is forever.

But the truth is - Running is temporary, but the pain seems like forever.

I’m going to set myself the rather ambitious target of finishing in 50 minutes. I’ve looked at photos of the course and it’s a lot hillier than my usual routes, which are practically flat. But not wanting to sound like I’m getting my excuses in early, if I take longer then never mind, I have the perfect excuse.

However, the race has got me thinking, and I have come up with an ingenious money making scheme. The race offers a first prize of £100! Now I realise I’m not fit enough to win this race, but what about in the future. If I concentrate on getting really really fit for say the next year, then I could enter races around the UK, in fact why not the world, and win the prize money!! I could even get large companies to sponsor my clothes, and I could make TV appearances advertising running equipment. I might even be able to get myself a regular morning slot on QVC. Beautiful. This time next year I’ll be a millionaire!!!!!

I can’t believe no one has thought of it before, just don't let anybody else know my plan..................

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11/03/09 Completed a 3.77 mile run in 31 minutes and 48 seconds

12/03/09 Completed a 6.03 mile run in 50 minutes and 29 seconds

15/03/09 Completed a 15.48 mile run in 2 hour, 13 minutes and 37 seconds

Sorry, I know it’s been a long time since I last updated my blog, but it seems like a long time since I last did any running!

Last Saturday I was on a high. I’d completed a fifteen and a half mile run, and ran for over 2 hours for the first time. Sure my knees would never be the same again, but it had been worth it. I was brimming with confidence.

I’d decided to reward myself with Sunday and Monday off, and start up again on Tuesday with a short four miler. Unfortunately it was my birthday last Tuesday, and also the 17^th of March – St Patrick’s Day. Since I’ve started running I’m a new man and hardly touch the demon drink, but an oath I made on my 18^th birthday came back to haunt me. I swore to drink at least 10 pints of Guinness every 17^th of March till the day I die. Sure, I also swore I would sleep with an 18 year old Brazilian model ever 17^th of March, but hey – one out of two ain’t bad.

Consequently, I fore filled my oath and I have been suffering for it ever since.

Hopefully I might be able to put away a few pints, sorry miles, tonight, but if not I’ll just go head long into a 13 miler tomorrow.

I will make sure I’m on my best behaviour until the 26^th of April from now on.

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08/03/09 Completed a 8.33 mile run in 1 hour, 12 minutes and 04 seconds

Sundays run did not go well. It should have been a day full of hope and glory, but it wasn’t, far from it. It was a day, which at best could be described as pushing me further along the experience curve.

It started off well enough. I woke early, had my breakfast and a cup of coffee, and took the first of my glucose tablets in preparation for the long run ahead. I’d learnt from the week before the ill effects of energy loss, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again. I had 15 miles of running to do; I would need all the energy I could muster.

As the morning pasted I took regular glucose tablets and even had a few isotonic sports drinks. I wanted to make sure I was extra prepared for the today’s run, no more messing around, I’d prepare like the experts.

I had intended to set off early, but ended up settling into the Andrew Marr show, before I knew it The Big Question started and Country File was next. So eventually I started running at 12 O’clock. But no need to worry, during the last 3 hours I had consumed a whole packet of glucose tablets and 3 isotonic sports drinks, I was literally dripping with energy. I was like a freshly recharged battery; if you touched the top of my head or souls of my feet you’d have burnt your fingers.

I set off more prepared than I have ever been; with a fresh pack of glucose tablets, brand new sports drink and covered in Vaseline.

I’d decided to take a glucose tablet every 2 miles and take regular sips of my drink as often as possible. I had a long way to go and I was determined to make no mistakes this time.

2 miles pasted without incident - apart from the usual feeling of being completely knackered. It was only just after the 4 mile mark that something strange happened. I started to hear a rumbling from my stomach, accompanied by rather painful stomach cramps. No problem – I will push through the pain. Did I expect running the marathon to be easy? Of course not, onwards.

The pain subsided and I carried on for another 3 and a half miles, dedicatedly taking another glucose tablet at the 6 mile point. It was only at this point I realised the terrible error of my ways. All the glucose and sports drink had reacted in my stomach to form a highly explosive mixture. I was like a huge bottle of pop, which had been shaken for the last hour. My belly was gurgling like crazy and I was bent double in pain, all the time being propelled forward from gas being expelled from my body like the exhaust on the Batmobile.

I was still half a mile from home, and I needed to cover the distance fast. My insides were about to explode. I noisily sped along, leaving behind me a rather unpleasant scent trail.

Then after 1 hour, 12 minutes and 4 seconds I finished my run sat on the toilet, left only to contemplate were it had all gone wrong.

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02/03/09 Completed a 3.77 mile run in 31 minutes and 57 seconds.

05/03/09 Completed a 6.02 mile run in 49 minutes and 58 seconds.

I stagger in the door, crawl down the corridor, fall into the bathroom, pull my T-shirt off and throw it in the washing basket. Another run completed. I admire the smell in the bathroom, then make my way to the couch and take a well earned rest. 10 hours later. I stagger in the door, crawl down the corridor, fall into the bathroom, pull my T-shirt off and throw it in the washing basket. Another cycle home from work completed. Again I admire the smell in the bathroom and make my way to my second home, the couch.

This is all part of my new project to create an aromatherapy room in my own home - on a budget. It’s based around the idea that success is contagious, and I am using the medium of smell to transfer this success.

Through experimentation I have found that left to fester for only 6 to 7 days, this ever growing pile of moist cloth, can become increasingly pungent. I like to think of this as the ‘exponential growth of potential success’. Everyday I’m able to shower with this wonderful aroma seeping back into my pours - ever increasing my powers.

Two weeks ago I could only run 6 miles, last weekend I ran 13 miles, its working, what more proof do you need? It’s as scientific as holding a burning peanut under a flask of cold water to measure its calorific content – fool proof.

I’m less please to report that the girlfriend is not so fond of the smell. It fact she’s likened it to living in a sewer. Apparently these clothes should go ‘STRAIGHT INTO THE WASH!’. I’m starting to worry this may severely hamper my progress. Some people can be so inconsiderate.

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