Race for Life 2011

And so it was that I eventually started to be able to run for 3 miles. Oh boy was that an achievement. Still on grass fields and still alone. I didn't think I could stand anyone witnessing the pure torture that running caused me.  The Race for Life was imminent.  I received the race pack and got all excited about having a race number. I didn't even know how to pin it to my shirt!  I read the race instructions avidly and then the day arrived.  I cannot emphasise what a massive deal it was for me. It was boiling hot! Hmmmmm.  I felt so out of place as we walked into the start area.  It was packed! I've never seen so much pink! Not since I fell in that vat of Gaviscon, Actually I didn't. It was extremely emotional though because everywhere you looked there were stories of ill and lost loved ones. There was a warm up routine going on and I'm partial to a bit of Zumba so I joined in very enthusiastically.  Possibly too enthusiastically, imagine injuring yourself before you even start?  Then when the race was about to start the call came to join either 'Runners', 'Joggers' or 'Walkers'.  A dilemma.  Where to be?  Definitely not a runner but also definitely not a walker.  So I decided to join the back of the runners and the start of the joggers.  And then we were off and I was running the first race of my life and it was on concrete. I found myself overtaking people. Then I noticed some people were starting to walk.  'No way!' I thought.  I was not going to walk, I had come here to run the Race for Life and that was exactly what I was going to do whatever happened.  Then I came around the path around the boating lake and there were my family.  They were amazed to see me so soon.  I kept going and spotted the next km marker.  Then I knew we were heading for the finish and I could hear the tannoy and the crowd.  I gave it my all and as I spotted the clock in the distance I saw it had a 29 on the front and I thought 'If I can just get in before 30 mins...'.  I sprinted like mad and made it.  Then I burst into tears.  And got my medal and bag and a bottle of water.  So I walked off and tried to pull myself together.

It was the most wonderful thing I had achieved and it meant so much as I lost my father to cancer when I was 12 and I have missed him every day of my life. As I walked back to meet my family and we continued along the seafront, we passed a lady walking with a drip and accompanied by two paramedics.  You cannot help but be humbled by the people who take part in this wonderful race.  Nor can you comprehend just how many women have become runners as a result of it.

How it all started...

It occurred to me that anyone reading this blog might not appreciate how my story began.  In fact I started this blog when I began to train for my first half marathon the Great Birmingham Run in 2012.  At that time it was the most incredible challenge and I thought that writing the blog, and attaching it to my fundraising site, would keep me on track. But it wasn't the start of it.  Oh no. let me take you back some 6 or 7 years... (cue wavy lines....)

It didn't start with running.  It started with swimming.  Most of my life I have swum a kind of breaststroke that I made up myself.  I would tell you all about how I didn't learn to swim until I was 9 years old on account of an incident but I haven't time here.  Anyway I merrily swam with a schoolfriend as a teenager and then continued at university as a leisure pursuit. I swam all through my pregnancies like a shiny black bowling ball bobbing along on my back. We have a pool about 10 mins away so that is perfect.  One day I noticed a sign that said 'Adults Improvers Course - improve your stroke or learn a new one'.  Wow! I thought.  I'd always wanted to know how to swim front crawl.  My usual attempt involved thrashing from side to side whilst flailing my arms windmill-style and gasping like a fish. So I signed up for it.  I have to confess to feeling very nervous.  Rightly so because when I turned up I realised that there were only 3 of us that weren't already able to do the front crawl.  By the way they call it freestyle these days! The teacher said  'OK 4 lengths to warm up'. I couldn't even do 1 length let alone warm up with 4.  I think she got the measure of us by the end of that lesson.  Needless to say we then set about a programme of breaking the stroke down. Lengths of kicking only, lengths of single arm reaches and pulls until eventually we could bring it all together.  Even so I found it very difficult and wondered if I would ever be able to swim a whole length. Every week I would return home with a beetroot red face. It say something when your teacher says to you as you reach the end of the pool, gasping and wheezing, 'Are you alright?' - I think she was seconds away from pressing the buzzer.  Anyway weeks passed by and I began to feel really good about myself. One length turned into two then four.  Then another challenge.  We needed to learn to tumble-turn.  Now that means doing a full forward roll UNDER THE WATER.  Yes.  I know.  Madness. In fact, I was too scared to do it.  So I bought myself a noseclip and I took my young sons swimming and asked them to teach me.  My youngest was so sweet. 'Just like this Mum' he said, flipping over and then surfacing with a huge beam on his chops.  How could I not do it?  I had sent them to swimming lessons and encouraged them to get over their fears and do their best.  How could I now not follow that same advice?  So deep breath and  - whoa! I did it and it was OK! I did it a few more times.  And then I got even more brave and tried it without the clip.  A very strange feeling and, if you get it wrong with your breathing, a fairly horrid one. Weeks later and another challenge - diving from the side of the pool.  Once again more fear and more practising with my sons.  So you get the picture, over and over I was doing new things, things I never thought I would ever be able to do, and I was actually doing them.  Me! Remember this point - it's an important one.
So where does the running come in?  Well I realised that the reason I was finding front crawl so hard was because of my breathing.  I hadn't got enough stamina so I wondered whether starting to run might help me get better at the breathing.

Cue the Race for Life.  My sister had done this a couple of years ago and I was so impressed that she had trained and run it as, like me, we are not sporty types.  Not that I was immediately inspired to do it.  Oh no.  I had no desire to run.  Too many bad memories of cross country and sports days.  That was definitely one thing you would never catch ME doing .  No sir!  However, I wanted to get better at swimming and I was secretly jealous of my sister's wonderful achievement and so I thought 'OK. This is a really good cause and I should do this'.  So I went on the Internet and found a plan to start running from scratch.  I seem to recall it was all about getting up to running for 15 mins non stop over about 6 weeks.  By the way when I say I was not a sporty type I did still do stuff like Step Aerobics (way back in the day - shiny blue footless tights/ leotard - the works!) , go to the gym, swimming and walking.  In fact when I was a young woman I looked a heck of a lot sportier than I actually was, people would often ask me if I was and I, of course, looked at them as if they were mad.  In fact I think it is a great shame that many people, and particularly girls, are turned off sport at school.  Poor short sighted, uncoordinated, awkward  me. We were not allowed to wear spectacles during ball games.  Very useful. No wonder I was so useless at netball and volleyball.  Somebody would shriek my name, I'd spin round and by the time the ball came into focus it would be about two inches from my face.  Yes I am that shortsighted.  Contact lenses have played a huge part in my ability to enjoy sport. Unfortunately I didn't have them until I was 20.

So running.  I didn't tell anyone I was doing it and I deliberately chose places where NO-ONE would see me.  Talk about guilty secret.  I would walk along the road to the farm lane so that no cars would see me and then I would start the run/walk programme.  Taking great care to always walk past the two cottages halfway down  in case anyone was looking out the window.  I would stop in front of the cowsheds and do a few stretches. The cows were very intrigued. Especially the mini-me mini- moos. I was quite a sight.  Gasping and wheezing and purple in the face.  And so I would pursue this programme.  Initially I would be running along and darting looks at my watch willing the time to be up so I could walk again.  It would take the full walking time for me to get my breath back at all. I remember those days so clearly.  The first time I ran for 5 minutes nonstop was incredible! The aim was to run 5k.  The Race for Life was in July 2011.  It took me 7 months to get there.

Socks, chocs and Shot BLOKS

It's getting closer by the day and the excitement is mounting.  I feel a bit like a hive of bees, quietly and ominously buzzing.  Suddenly, inconsequential things have taken on massive significance.  Socks for example.  I'm a little afeared of the agony of the uncushioned foot.  Didn't have any problem up till now but then on that last half marathon I suffered the unknown foot pain. Now I am surrounded by three new pairs of different types of sock and no proper time to roadtest! Hah.  Could be the least of my problems.

Last weekend was wonderful.  We hosted the club run.  I had walked it earlier in the week to check that we weren't all going to disappear in the boggy bit by the railway line.  Fortunately despite recent rain everywhere was passable.  Saturday arrived and so did the sun.  The run was very pleasant and two of our ladies, who haven't been able to join us for various reasons for quite a while, were able to come.  It was wonderful to have them both back on board.  Then back to ours for sausage buns, cake and copious tea.  Sitting in the garden for goodness sake! In March! Mr Leggy and The Young did a sterling job of providing and serving up all fodder.  The birthday celebrations just keep going.  I had made three cakes from the oracle that is - Mary Berry.  We're not worthy... we're not worthy.... 'Crunchy Top Lemon Cake' aka lemon drizzle cake aka lemony loaf. Chocolate Victoria Sandwich and - from the 'Healthy Cakes' section' - Carrot Cake'.  Healthy cakes?  Who the heck is interested in a healthy cake?  I have to confess being a tad worried about it because I'd never made it before and I'd grated the carrots without thinking about it.  When I looked in the bowl I realised that maybe I should have grated it finer and that the whole cake mixture was looking worryingly like coleslaw! It all disappeared though so it must have been OK. It was wonderful to spend time in such great company.

So now this week I have been relaxing as best I can.  This means lying around on the sofa and scoffing chocolate.  Not too much.  It's just that I have had a few very tasty treats for my birthday and I'm only human.

Talking of inconsequential things - I also realised that my waist bag was nowhere near big enough to carry all the stuff I want to have with me. Mainly because I want to have my phone and my iPod and I've calculated I'll need at least 3 packs of Shot BLOKS. I haven't got time to try out any new stuff so I've got another small bag and I've going to wear one on each hip like a gunslinger! Draw! I'll have to practise my technique, twizzling the packets round  and slamming them back in the bags.

Getting closer

Gosh a lot has happened since the last post.  Firstly I went out for a nice little run on the Monday after that 10k race.  I meant to do about 3 miles but ended up doing 5 miles and that was a mistake.  I was too tired really so the last two miles was more of a run/walk with the emphasis on walk and basically it served me right. Stick with what you know.  Consequently I didn't run again till Thursday and did 6 miles with my friend and that was very pleasant  as we chatted all the way. However, later that afternoon I noticed my lower calf and Achilles was aching.  Strange.  That evening I decided to go to the club's beginner group as it is very nice to meet all our new starters and join in a gentle trot/walk with them. The next day the leg was still aching.  Oh oh.  I couldn't really pinpoint it but it was certainly making me concerned especially since I had a half marathon on Sunday to look forward to! You may recall I was supposed to do this half marathon 'The Stanford Hall Half Marathon' last March but it was cancelled because of the snow! Pretty different to this year, eh? Being as I was worried about my leg I decided to rest completely and so that was it for me running until Sunday.

On Sunday we all had to get up very early.  Getting my family up and out at the best of times is a little like getting an oil tanker off to sea.  Overcoming the inertia is almost impossible.  This is, of course, very stressful.  Plus the weather looked hideous - cold and windy.  We had a two hour journey ahead and the start was at 10.15am. Somehow I felt very out of sorts.  It seemed like a very long time since I had done a half marathon.  October in fact.  A race is very different to me doing a long run on my own even though I have been doing long distances. What I didn't realise was that this race was very hilly! I certainly realised quite soon into the race though. There's just something about the extra effort of going up inclines when you're tired.  If think bubbles could appear above your head they'd be saying "What the ...?",  "If you think I'm...",  "Why I oughta..." everytime you get to another.  It was a strange kind of a race, quite a small turnout, very few supporters, very widely dispersed marshals.  At the end you were taken back into the grounds where you snaked about, looped back on yourself and basically wanted to shriek "Where the heck's the Finish line!!!!".  But when I did eventually cross the line I found out that my time was 2:16:03 which meant I had bettered my best time by 4 minutes.  Wow that was a good feeling! Plus the leg which had started to pain me at the beginning of the race had once again calmed down.  The medal was pretty good too as was the commemorative buff.  I'm quite partial to a buff these days - keeps my hair under control plus is invaluable for wrapping round your wrist and using to wipe your face as necessary. 

Running in a buff as opposed to running in the buff which would be a totally different matter!

Medal medal medal!

As Muttley would say.  You can't beat a medal and the 2014 Gainsborough & Morton 10k Road Race medal is a fine specimen.  A veritable Barry White of the medal world, it's so chunky.  Of course I wasn't doing it just for the medal although I must confess that the standard of the rewards is a big factor in choosing my races.  Let's face it, there has to be some incentive.  I know we 'run for fun' but it's bloomin' hard work and you might as well have something to make up for it as you gasp and wheeze your way over the Finish line.

Actually I feel a little guilty that I didn't divulge my true intentions for this race when I was writing about it last time.  I had put a time of 57:00 mins as my intended time for this 10k.  The reason being that I had put it down for my timed run as part of the  Jantastic programme.  This is a voluntary motivational running programme where each month you set yourself some targets e.g. how many runs a week and then you log them when you do them.  In February you also had to put down how long your longest run in each week was to be.  In March you had to decide on a distance and predict what time you could do it if you were running flat out.  You would be penalised for the amount of time you were under or over this predicted time.  The aim was for you to have a better knowledge of your current fitness and for you to be able to judge your pace more accurately. Nobody would know if you were telling the truth or not but you probably wouldn't even think of joining it if you weren't serious about it.  So why didn't I tell you?  Self doubt of course.  My usual failing.  I thought if I put it down in the blog and failed to reach it I would feel really bad.  As it was it was not a pleasant feeling to go into a race with an expectation, it puts a lot of pressure on.

So did you do it?  I hear you cry.  Well my friends I came in at 56:49 mins a mere 11 seconds off my prediction. Which was a personal best for me and made me feel ON TOP OF THE WORLD.  If I'd had the strength I'd have done a Mobot when I came in. As it was I came in like Usain Bolt (if he had had gender reassignment, had 3 children, piled on a few pounds, aged 30 years, changed his ethnicity  and not trained for about 5 years). I chose 57 mins because I had roughly this time last year in a race where a very nice chappie had run me in at the end and practically caused my lungs to heave themselves out of my throat.  So I thought this might be the kind of effort needed and I decided that I must be fitter now through the marathon training so I should be capable of that. When the race started I set my watch off and then resolved not to look at it again till the end.  I wanted to try and judge my pace by how I was feeling and there can be nothing more demoralising than finding the going tough only to look at your watch and realise you're not going as fast as you thought. It's all in the mind as you can see.  This is how the race went.  I started off steady and then I gradually got faster.  I remember thinking it felt manageable but I couldn't help but wonder whether I would be able to sustain it and whether I dared to push harder or whether that would cause me to struggle at the end. It's a great route and very flat so basically you just have to keep going. At 9k I decided to give it my best and as I approached what I thought was the end I saw the clock which already had a 57 on it.  'Well that's it, I've missed it',  thought I. Then I realised it wasn't the finish and there was still about 100m to go.  At this point I remembered that I had been towards the back and that the clock shows the time the race started which meant I still had all the extra time it had taken me to cross the start line.  And hence my final all out sprint to the finish line, arms pumping, legs pounding, hair flying.  It did occur to me that if I tripped and fell at this point I would really have hurt myself!

Pats on the back all round.

Courtesy of John Rainsforth

Tortoise then hare

It goes from one extreme to the other.  Last week a 20 mile long slow run, this week a 10k race.  Not sure how this is going to work out because I feel that I've got quite used to the plod and I'm not sure how it will feel to ramp the speed up again.  Er yes I do know how it will feel - bloomin' terrible at the end, it always does! Hah! Anyway, shallow individual that I am, I am only interested in the goodies at the Finish line.  No towel this week I don't suppose.

So the week has been kind of strange.  On Monday I was surprisingly well considering the day before.  Off I trotted to my swimming lesson without a care in the world.  Oh oh! For once our old teacher had stepped in to cover and he decided that the best thing to do was to get us to swim flat out for set periods of time.  400m in our best time, then 2 x 200m holding the pace, then 4 x 100m holding the pace etc. etc. I didn't sign up for that!!! My poor old bod. 20 miles the day before and then expected to whip itself into a frenzy in the pool?  But what could I do?  You'd feel such a fool trying to make excuses "Please Sir may I be excused from the fast stuff - I've got sore legs..." As if.  So basically I just did it.

Cue Tuesday morning and I wake up with a tap for a nose.  Non stop.  Plus headache plus feeling ropey.  Great.  Just what I needed.  My youngest is feeling poorly too.  Quick mental check and I put it down to us both at the cinema on Sat night and catching it from some inconsiderate sneezer.  I drag myself to work but by mid-afternoon I know I'm going downhill fast.  So no Zumba that night.  And I love Zumba! No run either.  Wednesday I decide to laze about in the hope of fending it off.  Youngest is off school with it so we take medicine in tandem and bask around watching TV.  No run again obviously.

But hooray on Thursday.  Feeling a bit better and off for a run with my friend in the sunshine and we manage a magnificent just-short-of ten miles! Which is brilliant and was also really lovely to be out and about in the fresh air.  Plus we tried out the new Shot Bloks with caffeine which worked really well.  So all in all a real feel good day.

And so I'm looking ahead to tomorrow to the Gainsborough 10k.  It feels very strange to realise that if I tacked this run on to the 20 mile last Sunday then that is the marathon distance.  In fact I think I will try and really take note of everything during this race because then when I'm in Paris I will have something to visualise when the going gets tough.

No Union Jack leggings tomorrow though.  I think it's going to be warm so shorts all the way! See if I can get another stripe on my legs.  Already got the watchstrap mark and the vest marks.

Twenty miles and counting

Today was a GREAT day! All my fears were unfounded.  The sun shone, the wind dropped and I got a towel.  Yes, sounds a bit bizarre but they gave away towels at the end of the race.  I was a bit confused when this man thrust it at me, I thought he was thinking I looked like I needed a good wipe down.  Man I was salty! Like a big salted pistachio nut.  It's incredible how much salt a person can produce.  Anyhow, I digress, let me tell you about the race.

As you know, it was a 20 mile race.  Called the East Hull 20.  In East Hull.  There were four of us from the club running it and two of them are doing marathons too. The race started at 10am and off we all piled down the road.  I was trying to keep very slow as those first few miles are the decider for how my races go and I've plenty of examples of how not to do it. So the result was I was at the back just in front of the sweeper vehicle.  It's a bit disconcerting to have a rumbling transit van crawling along behind you.  It begs the question 'Will it stay behind me all the way?  If I have to nip off to the toilet will it wait for me and then start following me again?'  Then I caught up with another lady and ran with her. Despite being at the back I noticed that my pace was already too fast so that was a worry but any slower and I would have been run over by the sweeper vehicle.  Imagine the headlines?  Then I caught up with another lady and chatted with her, she is doing the London marathon. It certainly helps to have some company on these long runs, especially when you are towards the back so that everyone is strung out and sometimes you are running completely alone although you know that there are hundreds of runners in front of you somewhere. All the marshals were so nice and encouraging and then there were bike marshals whizzing up and down checking that everyone was OK and St John's Ambulance vans sneaking up on you and then trundling past.  Very busy. All the time I was simply trotting along just trying not to think too much about it all.  The weather was beautiful and not so hot as to be unbearable.

The scenery was gorgeous and most of the race I could enjoy it until the last few miles in which case all I could do was try to propel myself in a Norman Wisdom kind-of-a-way by punching one arm out with the elbow foremost and dragging the rest of my body to follow. I put that down to fatigue.  After a while I realised that this was no way to go on and  I was seriously in danger of doing my back in and, more importantly, being captured on camera.  So I straightened up and scoffed another Shot Blok and decided to get through mile by mile. I have to say the last 4 miles were probably pretty indicative of what the last six miles of the marathon will feel like.  All you can do is just keep going somehow.  I'm not sure how I did it and once I got to 18 miles it was all new territory for me because that has been my longest run so far.  As it turned out it spurred me on because by that point 2 miles seemed far too short to give up and yet of course it was torturous going. All the while I kept catching up with people and then passing them so that even though I started at the back I passed 16 people before I finished. All in all a very satisfying day.

I went for a short swim when I got home. Running practically nonstop for nearly three and three quarter hours has somewhat of a battering effect on the legs and my feet felt completely flattened.  Let's hope it helps and I won't be lurching around tomorrow like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

So very long runs all done now.  Looking forward to the taper.