Can't believe this time next week it will all be over
Sunday, 30 March 2014
Sunday, 23 March 2014
Chapter 17: Tapering with Altitude
Post Spitfire was feeling a little sore..especially around my right knee.
So how do you maintain fitness when you're feeling a bit broken..
Slowly and steadily is the mantra people oft repeat to me..So guess what! I listen and take it slow.
First 4ish miles at a slow pace (with my dog in tow) then off to Chamonix, Skiing for a few days.
Chamonix Trip: Fitness Log
Day 1: Spent travelling so knocked out a 6 miler in the mountain air...again nice and slow.
Day 2: Full day's skiing and felt the need for a quick one at the end of the day (hard to motivate yourself I assure you when there is the lure of the hot tub and champagne)...took the river trail into the town centre and back along the slippery, snowy path.. it was breathtaking but I was cream crackered.
So how do you maintain fitness when you're feeling a bit broken..
Slowly and steadily is the mantra people oft repeat to me..So guess what! I listen and take it slow.
First 4ish miles at a slow pace (with my dog in tow) then off to Chamonix, Skiing for a few days.
Chamonix Trip: Fitness Log
Day 1: Spent travelling so knocked out a 6 miler in the mountain air...again nice and slow.
Day 2: Full day's skiing and felt the need for a quick one at the end of the day (hard to motivate yourself I assure you when there is the lure of the hot tub and champagne)...took the river trail into the town centre and back along the slippery, snowy path.. it was breathtaking but I was cream crackered.
What a Backdrop!
Day 3: Jeez...nearly broke 100 KPH skiing (and obviously my neck!)..then topped the day off with a 4.5m run along the riverbank.. Once again - pooped. Knee still smarting a little - skiing helping? Perhaps not. Need to get my MRI sorted once I am back.
Nearly 100 kph
Day 4: Whiteout so a little skiing but mostly rest...All I need to do today is hit my Nike fuel points goal but have decided to give myself a day off. Highly likely we will either do a little or no skiing tomorrow... Will need to get a quick run in tomorrow at some point as am sub-20 miles this week. Honestly....does it really matter now I am into the taper and have been besting myself on the slopes all week? Tapering sucks.
Day 5: Final morning and another whiteout. The valley had received a generous dumping overnight which meant zero skiing as visibility was seriously bad. So what to do....beast myself with an 11 miler. I'd like to pat myself on the back and say it was hardcore altitude training. It did feel harder but I was still hitting sub 8 minute miles, conscious of not killing my knee. To think that a week ago I was running the Surrey Spitfire! Now for the journey home and big hugs with all my kids and my doggie.
Here's to staying injury free for the next fortnight.
And here are a couple of great photos of the sun and snow....
Feelin' Hot Hot Hot!
Ice Ice Baby
Monday, 17 March 2014
Chapter 16: Spitfire Scrambled! Paris Marathon - I Have You in My Crosshairs
I awoke with a start at 6:09.
Panic set in for a fleeting moment and I sprang out of bed.
Yesterday's stiffness and the week's 30+ miles of street-pounding faded away as I lent against the wall having a quick power shower.
Race day! But NOT race day - a strange feeling but one I had to get used to, as the last thing I want to do is to blow myself up.
Keep in mind the big game that is still 3 weeks away.
I picked up my brother in-law Oli Wharmby and we drove excitedly down to Dunsfold Aerodrome, location of Top Gear's test track. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather conditions with the mercury creeping up to 17 by midday.
After customary coffee and ablutions, we assembled nervously at the start.
I got my mobile phone ready to track my progress (via Nike+ running) and set my playlist off, the small speakers giving me a little musical lift through my belt... it was the only way to get a little earworm as headphones were banned on the run. Interestingly I really enjoyed this run as I soaked up more of the atmosphere as a result. Questions, questions....
"Would my knee hold up?"
"Hope Oli enjoys it?"
"20 miles is a long way!"
Countdown - and we were off!
As I was with Oli in the middle of the pack, I needed to move up the field quickly to create some space. The course starts on the perimeter track around the runway so you had space but were still restricted by the width of the road. Also with my knee I daren't run on the uneven grass, after all I have seen what celebs in the reasonably priced car do...
The aerodrome section required a singing of the Top gear theme as we ran round Hammerhead and Gambon! It spiced up a flat and ever so slightly windy section.
Running The Top Gear Test Track
I quickly settled into a rhythm and was surprised at how chatty everyone was in my pack..we had a South African triathlete and ultra runner who was using this as a warm-up and another chap who had run one marathon before a year before and was now on track for a sub 3!
I watched these "elites" move and they seemed so strong and effortless compared to my lumbering style. Muscles popping their calves...
We chatted for the first 13 miles which rapidly took us out of the aerodrome and onto the country lanes.
The rest of the course was certainly undulating - which does of course mean - hilly! But nothing that took the wind out of you as you ascended.
Of course what goes up, must come down and I jarred my knee on the descent from one of these hills.
Strangely for a run that was taking place in such awesome countryside you did not see too much of it due to the canopy of trees and bushes.
There were two exceptions. The first was at around mile 6 when you saw a big hill on your right with a beautiful and grand white country house nestled in it's bosom.
The other was when you approached Dunsfold Green but shortly afterwards you descended back into the country lanes.
A 2-lap course, something I had not done since the San Sebastian marathon - plusses and minuses. Personally I quite liked it as I was no longer surprised by what it would throw at me.
It was at miles 17 when I started feeling uncomfortable - It's very useful to do long runs to test out your kit. I had taken the decision to wear underwear, compression shorts and some compression shorts on top...just to ensure there was no "movement" in the trouser area. Transpires that I had 3 layers of elastic all on the same area of my bladder. Made me feel like I had to go but did not... pain in the er... bladder!
I therefore spent much of the last 2 miles holding my multi-waistband away from my belly.
It was at that point (18+ miles) that the sinking feeling hit me... the start of the road to the wall.. I ignored it knowing that I was less than 14 minutes away from the end.
It worked but oh how I longed to see the tarmac of the Aerodrome.
A quick final turn and we were on the airfield - I stepped up the pace as I wanted to prove to myself that I still had fuel in the tank... It was an epic finish, knocking out a 6:42 final mile.
Even better: Final time was 2:24. I came in 70th out of a c800 strong field with Oli coming in a shade over 3 hours...an epic feat seeing as it was his longest ever run.
Panic set in for a fleeting moment and I sprang out of bed.
Yesterday's stiffness and the week's 30+ miles of street-pounding faded away as I lent against the wall having a quick power shower.
Race day! But NOT race day - a strange feeling but one I had to get used to, as the last thing I want to do is to blow myself up.
Keep in mind the big game that is still 3 weeks away.
I picked up my brother in-law Oli Wharmby and we drove excitedly down to Dunsfold Aerodrome, location of Top Gear's test track. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather conditions with the mercury creeping up to 17 by midday.
Ready for Action:Man
I got my mobile phone ready to track my progress (via Nike+ running) and set my playlist off, the small speakers giving me a little musical lift through my belt... it was the only way to get a little earworm as headphones were banned on the run. Interestingly I really enjoyed this run as I soaked up more of the atmosphere as a result. Questions, questions....
"Would my knee hold up?"
"Hope Oli enjoys it?"
"20 miles is a long way!"
Countdown - and we were off!
Oli and I in the Pen before the start
The aerodrome section required a singing of the Top gear theme as we ran round Hammerhead and Gambon! It spiced up a flat and ever so slightly windy section.
Running The Top Gear Test Track
I quickly settled into a rhythm and was surprised at how chatty everyone was in my pack..we had a South African triathlete and ultra runner who was using this as a warm-up and another chap who had run one marathon before a year before and was now on track for a sub 3!
I watched these "elites" move and they seemed so strong and effortless compared to my lumbering style. Muscles popping their calves...
We chatted for the first 13 miles which rapidly took us out of the aerodrome and onto the country lanes.
The rest of the course was certainly undulating - which does of course mean - hilly! But nothing that took the wind out of you as you ascended.
Of course what goes up, must come down and I jarred my knee on the descent from one of these hills.
Strangely for a run that was taking place in such awesome countryside you did not see too much of it due to the canopy of trees and bushes.
There were two exceptions. The first was at around mile 6 when you saw a big hill on your right with a beautiful and grand white country house nestled in it's bosom.
The other was when you approached Dunsfold Green but shortly afterwards you descended back into the country lanes.
A 2-lap course, something I had not done since the San Sebastian marathon - plusses and minuses. Personally I quite liked it as I was no longer surprised by what it would throw at me.
It was at miles 17 when I started feeling uncomfortable - It's very useful to do long runs to test out your kit. I had taken the decision to wear underwear, compression shorts and some compression shorts on top...just to ensure there was no "movement" in the trouser area. Transpires that I had 3 layers of elastic all on the same area of my bladder. Made me feel like I had to go but did not... pain in the er... bladder!
 |
| Around 8 Miles In |
It was at that point (18+ miles) that the sinking feeling hit me... the start of the road to the wall.. I ignored it knowing that I was less than 14 minutes away from the end.
It worked but oh how I longed to see the tarmac of the Aerodrome.
A quick final turn and we were on the airfield - I stepped up the pace as I wanted to prove to myself that I still had fuel in the tank... It was an epic finish, knocking out a 6:42 final mile.
 |
| Oli Approaches The Finish Line |
Oli and I with pint in hand
The Course Map
As a special Brucie bonus my disposable all in one suit arrived from Screwfix... I now am happy to wait in the starting pen at Paris for as long as it takes.... What a find!
Sunday, 16 March 2014
Photo Sneak Peak: Surrey Spitfire 20 Miler
Zoom In: We Really Did Run Gambon & Hammerhead
Full blog to follow when I stop aching.
Saturday, 15 March 2014
Chapter 15: Post Pisa, The Road To Paris with a Spitfire Thrown in For Good Measure
It’s always tough to re-motivate yourself after a marathon. You are sore, elated and don't see the point in pushing yourself for a while. Let the good time roll I thought and pretty much did nothing all week until a full 7 days post race.
Once you have lost the momentum of running so often it takes a few days to get back into the swing of things.
I took it easy, doing off-road runs and using softer surfaces so as not to cause me problems, mixing up on road and off-road. I have read that this is a good tactic and reduces the impact on your joints.
But there was little time to truly kick back as Paris was at the start of April and now I had sub 3:15 and a “good for age” (automatic entry into any marathon of my choosing) in my sights.
However 2014 ushered in a new year and before I knew it I was back in the swing of things, running 3 x 10k every week around the aquadrome in Rickmansworth, hoping that the softer ground would help my poor joints.
I also tried some serious x country running too, through mud and waterlogged ground, losing my shoe in the process. Works different muscle groups so was good but very very messy.
There was a point to this training..yes! The Watford half marathon was looming at the start of February.
My time in 2013 had been 1:34 and I had found it tough so was mentally prepared for a horrible race.
It did not disappoint.
The heavens had opened in the days and weeks prior to the race. Britain was gripped in widespread flooding and there was a risk that the race might have to be abandoned.
We started though on a chilly Sunday morning and the very respectable time of 10:00.
I was in two minds about whether to go for it or not..and guess what? Boy did I go for it delivering a PB in the process by about 20 seconds.
I was extatic – a positive omen for the audacious task of smashing 3:15 at the Paris marathon in April.
There was (as is always the case – perhaps its an age thing) a problem.. In my quest to enjoy myself (see chapter 17) I had run through a flooded depression towards the end of the half. In my amped up state I decided to kick furiously through the ankle-deep water to showboat for the cameras.
A couple of days later I realise that kicking heavy muddy water hurt my knees and this came home to roost when I ran a 16 miler the following week and was incapacitated for a couple of days, having to resort to smaller distances and less intensity.
Saw the physio who advised me to cut down. My sports masseur was more brutal, advising me through my wife to stop running for a couple of weeks and ditch the Reading Half Marathon.
So stubbornness got in the way (doesn’t it always) and I steadfastly refused to stop running but gave into common sense and decided to not run the Reading Half.
Part of the problem is an inability under race conditions to hold myself back and I know that with a tender knee that could mean and end to my dream of shattering a sub 3:15 at Paris in April.
Instead I signed up to the Surrey Spitfire, a 20 mile 2-lap course a couple of weeks later. This was a much better solution and would allow me another 2 weeks to have fully recovered.
Then as planned I was off to Barcelona for Mobile World Congress. Usually not the best place for keeping fit as the order of the day (and night) was to drink and eat and stay up late.
I arrived on the Sunday lunchtime having left home at 5am (yuk!).. All I could think of apart from the forthcoming business meetings and continuous presence of Senior Management meaning you had to be on your effervescent best behaviour was running.
My knee was hurting and I was very worried that unless I stepped back into my intensive training regime it would all be over before it started.
I touched down at the hotel and within 20 minutes was out pounding the streets and soaking up the 15-16 degree Barcelona sunshine.
I had never run there before so ended up running across a visually impressive bridge around the shipbuilding area before blasting back to the hotel.
I had covered 7 miles. I was on the turnaround and building up to my peak week of 50+ miles!
victory at Paris was still in sight.
Barcelona business trip moved to Dusseldorf Business trip and the miles per week and average distance continued to climb, elongating my days.
And today I sit here having just posted my ramblings for the first time and bringing the story to present day.
It is 5:21pm on Saturday, 15th March 2014. Tomorrow I will be running 20 miles around The Top Gear test track and Godalming/Dunsfold... kind of my old stomping ground for a brief period in the mid-nineties.
Tomorrow it is about finishing and feeling strong at the end, not beasting myself.
Will I be able to contain myself?
Once you have lost the momentum of running so often it takes a few days to get back into the swing of things.
I took it easy, doing off-road runs and using softer surfaces so as not to cause me problems, mixing up on road and off-road. I have read that this is a good tactic and reduces the impact on your joints.
But there was little time to truly kick back as Paris was at the start of April and now I had sub 3:15 and a “good for age” (automatic entry into any marathon of my choosing) in my sights.
However 2014 ushered in a new year and before I knew it I was back in the swing of things, running 3 x 10k every week around the aquadrome in Rickmansworth, hoping that the softer ground would help my poor joints.
I also tried some serious x country running too, through mud and waterlogged ground, losing my shoe in the process. Works different muscle groups so was good but very very messy.
There was a point to this training..yes! The Watford half marathon was looming at the start of February.
My time in 2013 had been 1:34 and I had found it tough so was mentally prepared for a horrible race.
It did not disappoint.
The heavens had opened in the days and weeks prior to the race. Britain was gripped in widespread flooding and there was a risk that the race might have to be abandoned.
We started though on a chilly Sunday morning and the very respectable time of 10:00.
I was in two minds about whether to go for it or not..and guess what? Boy did I go for it delivering a PB in the process by about 20 seconds.
Should Have Worn Swimming Trunks
I was extatic – a positive omen for the audacious task of smashing 3:15 at the Paris marathon in April.
There was (as is always the case – perhaps its an age thing) a problem.. In my quest to enjoy myself (see chapter 17) I had run through a flooded depression towards the end of the half. In my amped up state I decided to kick furiously through the ankle-deep water to showboat for the cameras.
A couple of days later I realise that kicking heavy muddy water hurt my knees and this came home to roost when I ran a 16 miler the following week and was incapacitated for a couple of days, having to resort to smaller distances and less intensity.
Saw the physio who advised me to cut down. My sports masseur was more brutal, advising me through my wife to stop running for a couple of weeks and ditch the Reading Half Marathon.
So stubbornness got in the way (doesn’t it always) and I steadfastly refused to stop running but gave into common sense and decided to not run the Reading Half.
Part of the problem is an inability under race conditions to hold myself back and I know that with a tender knee that could mean and end to my dream of shattering a sub 3:15 at Paris in April.
Instead I signed up to the Surrey Spitfire, a 20 mile 2-lap course a couple of weeks later. This was a much better solution and would allow me another 2 weeks to have fully recovered.
Then as planned I was off to Barcelona for Mobile World Congress. Usually not the best place for keeping fit as the order of the day (and night) was to drink and eat and stay up late.
I arrived on the Sunday lunchtime having left home at 5am (yuk!).. All I could think of apart from the forthcoming business meetings and continuous presence of Senior Management meaning you had to be on your effervescent best behaviour was running.
My knee was hurting and I was very worried that unless I stepped back into my intensive training regime it would all be over before it started.
I touched down at the hotel and within 20 minutes was out pounding the streets and soaking up the 15-16 degree Barcelona sunshine.
Threatening skies but 17 degree "HEAT". Barcelona: I was back!
I had never run there before so ended up running across a visually impressive bridge around the shipbuilding area before blasting back to the hotel.
I had covered 7 miles. I was on the turnaround and building up to my peak week of 50+ miles!
victory at Paris was still in sight.
Barcelona business trip moved to Dusseldorf Business trip and the miles per week and average distance continued to climb, elongating my days.
And today I sit here having just posted my ramblings for the first time and bringing the story to present day.
It is 5:21pm on Saturday, 15th March 2014. Tomorrow I will be running 20 miles around The Top Gear test track and Godalming/Dunsfold... kind of my old stomping ground for a brief period in the mid-nineties.
Tomorrow it is about finishing and feeling strong at the end, not beasting myself.
Will I be able to contain myself?
Chapter 14: Withdrawal, Tragedy & Pisa Marathon 2013
2 weeks before Florence I developed a heavy cold after a particularly stressful period at work and no doubt coming off the back of my high mileage October – started as a cold and then morphed into full blown sinusitis with a cough powerful enough to fell a man at ten paces.
I battled it, was politely asked to go home when in the office and then spent the week worrying about whether I could run at all or not.
On the Wednesday, to make matters worse, I received a call from the airline saying that due to industrial action in Italy our flight was cancelled.
I was livid but also feeling dreadfully unwell, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath. For some strange reason I thought that I would all of a sudden make a miraculous recovery and swan over the line having achieved a PB…it was not to be.
The following day I went to the doctor and threw the towel in, cancelling my flights, hotel etc.… I was devastated. All that work.
It was at this point that my ever-understanding wife and I hatched a plan. We would go away for the weekend as planned to The New Forest and I would go and run the Pisa Marathon 3 weeks later. Calls were made, recovery ensued and slowly but surely I was race ready again, running a solid 16 miles in 2 hours the week before. Life was good again!
On Wednesday, 11th December I received a call, informing me that my cousin’s wife of 36 years, Lisa Vivian had suffered a heart attack and brain haemorrhage. She died that night, leaving my cousin Nick and his 3 lovely children.
This put everything in perspective and made me more determined than ever to live for the now, embrace life and push myself further than ever before.
I was emotional and kept thinking about Lisa, my cousin and the kids and decided to run Pisa in her memory.
When I landed at the airport in Pisa, I went straight to the expo to collect my number and had the opportunity to get “FOR LISA” stamped on my shirt (that set me off).
I was ready and fortunately had checked myself into a spa hotel so spent the afternoon chilling out in hot pools…bliss!
I even decided to have a glass and a half of red wine to help me drift off to sleep.
It worked and I slept a good 6 hours having efficiently laid out all of my equipment and outfit for the following morning.
I wouldn’t say I slept soundly, waking at 4, 5 and finally 6am… I was up and had a long bath whilst watching James Cracknell to inspire me.
A brief taxi ride and some light snacks on the way in and I assembled near the start line, which was round the corner from the iconic leaning tower.
Italian is not a language I have much proficiency in so I acted the “tourist” and assembled in the pen for sub 3:15…a mere 10 feet from the start. I was a little concerned as to whether I was in the right place as both half marathoners and full marathoners were in the same starting area.
I hardly had time to get myself ready and we were off. I started my running app about 30 seconds into the race but the pace was sufficiently slow so as not to throw me off pace.
We ran through the city centre and along the riverbank. The colours were a wonderful mix of pastel oranges and terracottas (typical of Tuscany). Before I knew it we were running down country lanes through flat fields and unusual trees (that looked like Cedars but probably were not). A few miles of that and then through a forest before reaching the coast. I was loving the diversity and using the tips I had learned in the prior days from both The Runner’s Rule Book (by Mark Remy) and the James Cracknell documentary. Those tips were:
• Smile at the volunteers
• Smile generally
• Tell yourself you feel good (and I did)
• Live in the moment rather than thinking ahead all the time.
• Enjoy it!
All of the above were working for me and I could see the inflatable arch 1 KM away that signalled the half way point.
I had taken to texting my boss and my wife (the other “boss” in my life) every 5k so they were aware of my progress but then decided to try something I had never done before.
As I was on my own in Pisa with no support from family and friends, I thought I would give my wife a call.
Having a quick 2-minute chat about my progress was awesome and gave me a lift. I crossed the halfway point keeping my pace at sub 4:30/K, which means I was on track for sub 3:30…
As I passed the 25k mark I realised that if I maintained my pace I could even get sub-3:15! This was going to be a great race. The sun was shining and I was now running alongside the coast. Again the diversity made for a really interesting run.
Before I knew it we had turned away from the coast and started heading back towards Pisa.
Reality started to kick in after 30KM and things started to get tough all of a sudden (yes – the wall!!). I then made an error that would cost me a few minutes later on.
I dropped my water bottle and foolishly thought that I should continue so as not to break my pace.
All well and good but 2-3k further on as I approached the 35k mark I started to feel incredibly thirsty…and alas no water station in sight. I asked the officials and they gave me wet sponges which contained very little water.
I was parched and tiring rapidly.
I called my wife again and confidently informed her that I was on for a sub 3:20…a mammoth achievement. Moments later though I started walking. Only for 30 seconds but I needed to. Managed to pick myself up and continue running and then again…slowed to a walk.
FINALLY a water station. I gulped down 2 cups of sweet cordial and I was off on the final 3k. A burst of energy and then a massive lull. I needed to motivate myself for the final 1k – I was spent but it was 3:12 and I was so close it was tearing me apart.
I called my wife again and just told her to talk to me. I was gasping for breath as the leaning tower came into view, just behind the walled city. 42K came and no sign of the finish and then…a quick turn around the corner and I saw it… 50 metres away.
3:17! I crossed the line and it took a few moments to catch my breath. I carried on talking to my wife and could hear the cheers of my kids in the background.
The sound of Queen’s “Who wants to live forever” rang out over the PA and I cried a little, thinking of poor Lisa Vivian, Nick and is family…. But what a tribute to her. Since then I have been in touch with the Pisa Marathon organisers and they are going to send me 3 medals, one for each of my cousin’s kids and I will insert a photo of the finish line with Lisa’s name on my running shirt. They will be able to put it in their very own memory box.
The tingling in my face started but I knew what to do. I quickly went into a café and ordered 2 cans of soft drink and sat down in the sun letting things sink in.
There is no other feeling like it.
The sense of physical and mental exhaustion that stays with you for the rest of the day and for days afterwards.
I hobbled to the baggage pickup area and sat in the sun next to fellow runners.
I spoke to a few of my friends and family and made my way to a hotel near the finish line to order a taxi. I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel for the post marathon pampering that I had planned.
And what an afternoon…
Basically, I lounged around in various hot spring baths for 2 hours, taking all the weight off my poor legs. First the roof pool and took in the Autumnal Tuscany sun, then a variety of indoor pools until alas it was time to pack up.
I got to the airport in plenty of time and winced my way into my seat. I couldn't sleep but was absolutely shattered.
Landing at Stanstead I hopped in my car after a victory Burger King and made my way home, sitting an a dreadful traffic jam for an hour.
I made it home and felt like a hero for about a week. I even went into the office on the Monday (albeit a little later than usual).
I battled it, was politely asked to go home when in the office and then spent the week worrying about whether I could run at all or not.
On the Wednesday, to make matters worse, I received a call from the airline saying that due to industrial action in Italy our flight was cancelled.
I was livid but also feeling dreadfully unwell, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath. For some strange reason I thought that I would all of a sudden make a miraculous recovery and swan over the line having achieved a PB…it was not to be.
The following day I went to the doctor and threw the towel in, cancelling my flights, hotel etc.… I was devastated. All that work.
New Forest: Florence Marathon Weekend. Coughing Like a 40-a-day man
It was at this point that my ever-understanding wife and I hatched a plan. We would go away for the weekend as planned to The New Forest and I would go and run the Pisa Marathon 3 weeks later. Calls were made, recovery ensued and slowly but surely I was race ready again, running a solid 16 miles in 2 hours the week before. Life was good again!
On Wednesday, 11th December I received a call, informing me that my cousin’s wife of 36 years, Lisa Vivian had suffered a heart attack and brain haemorrhage. She died that night, leaving my cousin Nick and his 3 lovely children.
The Beautiful Lisa Vivian
This put everything in perspective and made me more determined than ever to live for the now, embrace life and push myself further than ever before.
I was emotional and kept thinking about Lisa, my cousin and the kids and decided to run Pisa in her memory.
When I landed at the airport in Pisa, I went straight to the expo to collect my number and had the opportunity to get “FOR LISA” stamped on my shirt (that set me off).
I was ready and fortunately had checked myself into a spa hotel so spent the afternoon chilling out in hot pools…bliss!
I even decided to have a glass and a half of red wine to help me drift off to sleep.
It worked and I slept a good 6 hours having efficiently laid out all of my equipment and outfit for the following morning.
All Neatly Laid Out (A Touch of OCD?)
I wouldn’t say I slept soundly, waking at 4, 5 and finally 6am… I was up and had a long bath whilst watching James Cracknell to inspire me.
A brief taxi ride and some light snacks on the way in and I assembled near the start line, which was round the corner from the iconic leaning tower.
The Tower
Italian is not a language I have much proficiency in so I acted the “tourist” and assembled in the pen for sub 3:15…a mere 10 feet from the start. I was a little concerned as to whether I was in the right place as both half marathoners and full marathoners were in the same starting area.
I hardly had time to get myself ready and we were off. I started my running app about 30 seconds into the race but the pace was sufficiently slow so as not to throw me off pace.
Pace Runners Lining Up at Pisa 2013
• Smile at the volunteers
• Smile generally
• Tell yourself you feel good (and I did)
• Live in the moment rather than thinking ahead all the time.
• Enjoy it!
All of the above were working for me and I could see the inflatable arch 1 KM away that signalled the half way point.
I had taken to texting my boss and my wife (the other “boss” in my life) every 5k so they were aware of my progress but then decided to try something I had never done before.
As I was on my own in Pisa with no support from family and friends, I thought I would give my wife a call.
Having a quick 2-minute chat about my progress was awesome and gave me a lift. I crossed the halfway point keeping my pace at sub 4:30/K, which means I was on track for sub 3:30…
Half Way Point Looms Ahead
As I passed the 25k mark I realised that if I maintained my pace I could even get sub-3:15! This was going to be a great race. The sun was shining and I was now running alongside the coast. Again the diversity made for a really interesting run.
Before I knew it we had turned away from the coast and started heading back towards Pisa.
Yes It Really Was THAT Hot
Reality started to kick in after 30KM and things started to get tough all of a sudden (yes – the wall!!). I then made an error that would cost me a few minutes later on.
I dropped my water bottle and foolishly thought that I should continue so as not to break my pace.
All well and good but 2-3k further on as I approached the 35k mark I started to feel incredibly thirsty…and alas no water station in sight. I asked the officials and they gave me wet sponges which contained very little water.
I was parched and tiring rapidly.
I called my wife again and confidently informed her that I was on for a sub 3:20…a mammoth achievement. Moments later though I started walking. Only for 30 seconds but I needed to. Managed to pick myself up and continue running and then again…slowed to a walk.
I'm OK - Really!
I called my wife again and just told her to talk to me. I was gasping for breath as the leaning tower came into view, just behind the walled city. 42K came and no sign of the finish and then…a quick turn around the corner and I saw it… 50 metres away.
3:17! I crossed the line and it took a few moments to catch my breath. I carried on talking to my wife and could hear the cheers of my kids in the background.
Triumph Against a Backdrop of Tragedy: Pisa 2013
The sound of Queen’s “Who wants to live forever” rang out over the PA and I cried a little, thinking of poor Lisa Vivian, Nick and is family…. But what a tribute to her. Since then I have been in touch with the Pisa Marathon organisers and they are going to send me 3 medals, one for each of my cousin’s kids and I will insert a photo of the finish line with Lisa’s name on my running shirt. They will be able to put it in their very own memory box.
The tingling in my face started but I knew what to do. I quickly went into a café and ordered 2 cans of soft drink and sat down in the sun letting things sink in.
There is no other feeling like it.
The sense of physical and mental exhaustion that stays with you for the rest of the day and for days afterwards.
I hobbled to the baggage pickup area and sat in the sun next to fellow runners.
I spoke to a few of my friends and family and made my way to a hotel near the finish line to order a taxi. I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel for the post marathon pampering that I had planned.
Where I spent My Afternoon Recovery
And what an afternoon…
Basically, I lounged around in various hot spring baths for 2 hours, taking all the weight off my poor legs. First the roof pool and took in the Autumnal Tuscany sun, then a variety of indoor pools until alas it was time to pack up.
I got to the airport in plenty of time and winced my way into my seat. I couldn't sleep but was absolutely shattered.
Landing at Stanstead I hopped in my car after a victory Burger King and made my way home, sitting an a dreadful traffic jam for an hour.
I made it home and felt like a hero for about a week. I even went into the office on the Monday (albeit a little later than usual).
Chapter 13: St Albans & Running America
So I conquered London, to a certain extent anyway. But I did not stop there.
I signed up to the infamous St Albans half marathon at the start of June and figured that I should just carry on training. After all it was doing me good eh?
Things were about to take an unusual and positive turn for me as well, which would broaden my running perspective.
I continued to run through May, clocking up over 88 miles in the month. This was in part due to the awesome weather we had in the UK and also my desire to get a sub 1:30 at the St Albans half marathon at the start of June.
I did not want my newfound fitness to ebb away so thought the best thing to do would be to keep moving!
St Albans came and I nailed a personal best at 1:29…I was euphoric. My holy grail had been smashed and guess what? Without ANY music whatsoever…. now I’m not advocating not running with music, however the fact that music was totally outlawed meant I had no choice.
St Albans was notoriously hilly and I threw myself up every hill I touched with gusto. The strategy worked and I returned home to Northwood before lunch before lying prone on the floor all day.
Now here’s a piece of advice. If you have just run a race, try not to fly to another country that same day and stay in an unfamiliar room. Not conducive to a decent night’s sleep and certainly no fun celebrating on your own.
June and July was all about the USA. I went to work in Sunnyvale at Motorola HQ and running, running and yet more running.
Staying in San Jose, I quickly found out that there was a trail there, the Guadalupe River trail. This pretty much was my weekday salvation travelling anything up to 7 miles first thing in the morning to counter the effects of jet lag. It was great to see so many people up at that time and helped acclimatise.
The only challenge was switching from morning to evening, as it was so damn HOT! I managed to get dehydration twice, once on my birthday eve, which was pretty miserable ☹
San Jose was the warm up for the main event – San Francisco and the allure of The Bridge. Would I want to throw myself over the edge, how long would it take to cross it and would the weather be on my side or not?
All was to be answered on my first weekend in SF solo. I managed a couple of drinks with some work colleagues on the Friday evening but Saturday was all about cycling and checking out Haight Ashbury and of course The Bridge. It was a glorious day and I cycled far and wide before returning to my hotel to chill.
Sunday was the BIG one and I started down by Fisherman’s Wharf and Fort Mason. The run itself was wet, damp and windy and lacked the majesty I was so hoping for. Nevertheless I did it and got to San Jose a contented chappie, checking into my hotel and chilling for the rest of the day (not before catching a local blues band down the road!).
I was back in San Jose and San Fran a fortnight later and managed to pack in a 13-mile run that took in the bridge as well as a 13-mile walk! All the exercise and all that wind and sun had one BIG effect on me. COLD SORES! Yep – my mouth erupted on my birthday and stuck with me for a good 10 days leading to antibiotics and my scaring pretty much everyone I came across.
Thankfully they subsided and we were off on our summer holiday to…yep you guessed it…USA!
On the family vacation I ran everywhere we went. I ran the Vegas strip, Yosemite mountain trails (getting dehydrated again!), The shores of Santa Barbara and Santa Monica as well as one last jaunt over The Bridge whilst in San Fran!
It was all over before I knew it and I returned to the UK fitter and leaner than ever before focussed on the Florence Marathon at end November.
Firstly there was the small matter of 2 half marathons and one 10 miler to pack in.
Whilst I like the idea of trying new stuff, the Lingfield 10 miler was a bit of a pig. 5 miles uphill and 5 miles up and down…. tough sonofabitch. Not as high mileage as I was used to but boy was it tough. I felt like walking in the first mile it was so vertical. I did persevere and enjoyed the change.
Run to The Beat half was at the start of September and I ran my heart out to beat my previous PB set at St Albans back in June. Hell I had done enough training over the summer. And…made it beating my St Albans time by 1 minute.
I still can’t get my head around the fact that all that time, that distance and it comes down to a handful of seconds at the end.
One final race when it was even more evident was the Gran Union Canal Half, 2 weeks before the Florence Marathon. It took us from the M25/M40 area all the way into Watford along the Grand Union Canal.
I had done many of my long runs along the canal so it was familiar territory.
One thing about canal running – it is a long slog. I like the undulations, the shifts in direction and change in scenery. On long runs it makes things a great deal easier.
Even so after debating whether or not to do it the previous day (as I really wanted to do a 15+ miler) I gave it my all and came 30 seconds behind my Run to The Beat time… I was pleased and knew that I could have made up that time if I had been wearing the right shoes so I did not slip – next time eh?!
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I signed up to the infamous St Albans half marathon at the start of June and figured that I should just carry on training. After all it was doing me good eh?
Things were about to take an unusual and positive turn for me as well, which would broaden my running perspective.
I continued to run through May, clocking up over 88 miles in the month. This was in part due to the awesome weather we had in the UK and also my desire to get a sub 1:30 at the St Albans half marathon at the start of June.
I did not want my newfound fitness to ebb away so thought the best thing to do would be to keep moving!
St Albans came and I nailed a personal best at 1:29…I was euphoric. My holy grail had been smashed and guess what? Without ANY music whatsoever…. now I’m not advocating not running with music, however the fact that music was totally outlawed meant I had no choice.
St Albans was notoriously hilly and I threw myself up every hill I touched with gusto. The strategy worked and I returned home to Northwood before lunch before lying prone on the floor all day.
The colour co-ordinated outfit and of course the sub 1:30 time
Now here’s a piece of advice. If you have just run a race, try not to fly to another country that same day and stay in an unfamiliar room. Not conducive to a decent night’s sleep and certainly no fun celebrating on your own.
June and July was all about the USA. I went to work in Sunnyvale at Motorola HQ and running, running and yet more running.
Staying in San Jose, I quickly found out that there was a trail there, the Guadalupe River trail. This pretty much was my weekday salvation travelling anything up to 7 miles first thing in the morning to counter the effects of jet lag. It was great to see so many people up at that time and helped acclimatise.
The only challenge was switching from morning to evening, as it was so damn HOT! I managed to get dehydration twice, once on my birthday eve, which was pretty miserable ☹
San Jose was the warm up for the main event – San Francisco and the allure of The Bridge. Would I want to throw myself over the edge, how long would it take to cross it and would the weather be on my side or not?
Running The Gudalupe River Trail, San Jose at 6am
The Bridge
Having Just Cycled The Bridge
Sunday was the BIG one and I started down by Fisherman’s Wharf and Fort Mason. The run itself was wet, damp and windy and lacked the majesty I was so hoping for. Nevertheless I did it and got to San Jose a contented chappie, checking into my hotel and chilling for the rest of the day (not before catching a local blues band down the road!).
Alcatraz as The Backdrop: The Bridge Awaits!
I was back in San Jose and San Fran a fortnight later and managed to pack in a 13-mile run that took in the bridge as well as a 13-mile walk! All the exercise and all that wind and sun had one BIG effect on me. COLD SORES! Yep – my mouth erupted on my birthday and stuck with me for a good 10 days leading to antibiotics and my scaring pretty much everyone I came across.
Thankfully they subsided and we were off on our summer holiday to…yep you guessed it…USA!
On the family vacation I ran everywhere we went. I ran the Vegas strip, Yosemite mountain trails (getting dehydrated again!), The shores of Santa Barbara and Santa Monica as well as one last jaunt over The Bridge whilst in San Fran!
The Family in Yosemite: Summer 2013
It was all over before I knew it and I returned to the UK fitter and leaner than ever before focussed on the Florence Marathon at end November.
Firstly there was the small matter of 2 half marathons and one 10 miler to pack in.
Whilst I like the idea of trying new stuff, the Lingfield 10 miler was a bit of a pig. 5 miles uphill and 5 miles up and down…. tough sonofabitch. Not as high mileage as I was used to but boy was it tough. I felt like walking in the first mile it was so vertical. I did persevere and enjoyed the change.
Lingfield Dry Hill
Run to The Beat half was at the start of September and I ran my heart out to beat my previous PB set at St Albans back in June. Hell I had done enough training over the summer. And…made it beating my St Albans time by 1 minute.
My Brother In-Law Oli At The Dry Hill (Check out the non-matching medals)
I still can’t get my head around the fact that all that time, that distance and it comes down to a handful of seconds at the end.
Loving the Dude Photo Bombing This (With Katie Dove at The Start of Run 2 The Beat 2013)
Triumphant at Run 2 The Beat
I had done many of my long runs along the canal so it was familiar territory.
One thing about canal running – it is a long slog. I like the undulations, the shifts in direction and change in scenery. On long runs it makes things a great deal easier.
Even so after debating whether or not to do it the previous day (as I really wanted to do a 15+ miler) I gave it my all and came 30 seconds behind my Run to The Beat time… I was pleased and knew that I could have made up that time if I had been wearing the right shoes so I did not slip – next time eh?!
Bearded at The Grand Union Canal Half
Chapter 12: London v James: The Re-Match (London Marathon 2013)
Well of course London was the logical next step. I had conquered my demons of sleeplessness and sub 3:30 terror in Spain and had London in my sights.
The experience of San Sebastian taught me a couple of important lessons. Firstly that Half Marathons were a good way to get into the marathon mind-set and presented a different type of challenge and secondly that I should prepare myself for a sleepless night pre-marathon and just go with the flow rather than working yourself into a frenzy.
But naturally the road to London was not without it’s pitfalls.
For one, the winter of 2012/2013 was bitterly cold and seemed to go on indefinitely. This meant that much of my training in the first 2 months of the year seemed to be taking place in the gym on the treadmill. Of course I mixed things up, doing repetitions as well as distance and strength work.
I also did another 2 half marathons to prep for London – Watford and Reading.
This was a miserable race, sleet, snow and wind chilled me to the bone and yet I made it round in 1:31…Sub-130 was now in my sights and yet I still did not feel completely cool about doing halves…I needed the “whole” deal.
All was going well until the week before the marathon when I was struck down with a dreadful stomach virus that meant I lost a considerable amount of weight and therefore energy. It was literally touch and go as to whether I would run. But slowly and surely my confidence increased sufficiently for me to attempt a mile, then 2, then 3 in the lead in to Marathon weekend. And on the Thursday I sought the “OK” from the GP to race.
The race was on and I had a score to settle…4:14 had to be smashed and I wanted to beat my San Sebastian time.
I had volunteered to raise money for Jewish Care charity to did a little running “pose” ahead of the race which was fun but held me back a little from reaching my pen. IT did get me talking to James Tarlton, a fellow Jewish Care supporter who was about to run his first Marathon.
On the previous Monday, 2 youths had set off a bomb at the Boston Marathon finish and killed three souls and injured many more. As a mark of respect we all wore black ribbons when we ran.
It was hot at the start and though a mere fortnight before there had been snow on the ground I knew this was going to be a warm one.
After 30 seconds silence ahead of the start in memory of Boston we were off.
Memories of the course from three years earlier came flooding back. Something new however was the appearance of a man in a Borat-style mankni ahead of me in the pack. People winced as they watched the “garment” ride up his crack – yuk!
I love the part of the course when the three starting groups all converge like small tributaries joining a big river – it really gives you a sense of the sheer scale of the event.
Once again it was like running past a great street carnival. The combination of the events of Boston the week before and the sunshine brought people out in their masses – I had never seen support like it. Throughout the entire course people were egging us on.
Just before I went over the halfway point I spotted my brother and his girlfriend – gave me a massive lift and I crossed the halfway point in line with my target pace (around 1:35) so I knew that a PB was in sight at this point.
Then it was over the iconic London Bridge and a sharp right after Tower of London and into the no-mans land that is Docklands. It was not too bad and I came out the other side under the false sense of security that it was nearly over….WRONG!
The “wall” hit me like a slap in the face at mile 18 and my illness from just a few days earlier caused me to be searching for energy reserves…I simply had none.
But then I saw my wife and daughters cheering me on, pausing briefly to give them high fives… Then but a few yards later my brother, his wife and daughter and more high fives…
Then I was on my own and crawled to a walk, my face grimacing as all my muscles tightened and the pain shooting up my thighs.
Another shout from the sidelines, this time my friend and fellow Prince nut Manoj Jangra – I was too far away from him to high-five him but instead he got an outstretched hand/pointing finger and a loud grunt.
So close now….Approaching the Houses of Parliament along the Embankment..it’s a long slog though and once you turn right past Parliament you have nearly ANOTHER mile to cover before the finish.
Willing myself forward and resigning myself to the fact that I had missed getting a PB, I trotted along pat Buckingham Palace and then saw the time.
A half-hearted “sprint” and I crossed the line.. Unbelievably I had shaved a minute off my San Sebastian time. The body can do amazing things even when you think all is lost you can rebound and surprise yourself.
I posed for my photo and used some insane hand gesture to indicate that this was marathon number 6…instead looked like a weirdo.
Tingling in the face and hands returned but I knew what to do this time: salt and sweet drinks.
Then came one of the toughest bits of the race. I had to get myself from the finish line in Green Park to Russell Square where my nephew was having his birthday party in a bowling alley and where I would meet my wife and family for the car journey home.
It took a while to get there but finally I could bask in the glory of having conquered London and having wiped 51 minutes from my inaugural time just 3 years earlier.
I felt great, unstoppable and now had a new target in mind for my next race: Florence......
The experience of San Sebastian taught me a couple of important lessons. Firstly that Half Marathons were a good way to get into the marathon mind-set and presented a different type of challenge and secondly that I should prepare myself for a sleepless night pre-marathon and just go with the flow rather than working yourself into a frenzy.
But naturally the road to London was not without it’s pitfalls.
For one, the winter of 2012/2013 was bitterly cold and seemed to go on indefinitely. This meant that much of my training in the first 2 months of the year seemed to be taking place in the gym on the treadmill. Of course I mixed things up, doing repetitions as well as distance and strength work.
I also did another 2 half marathons to prep for London – Watford and Reading.
Watford: Hilly Sonofabitch
Raining at The Start of Reading 2013
Elation at Reading 2013. But the Elusive 1:30 Still Evaded Me
All was going well until the week before the marathon when I was struck down with a dreadful stomach virus that meant I lost a considerable amount of weight and therefore energy. It was literally touch and go as to whether I would run. But slowly and surely my confidence increased sufficiently for me to attempt a mile, then 2, then 3 in the lead in to Marathon weekend. And on the Thursday I sought the “OK” from the GP to race.
At The Expo With The "All Clear" to Race from my GP
The race was on and I had a score to settle…4:14 had to be smashed and I wanted to beat my San Sebastian time.
I had volunteered to raise money for Jewish Care charity to did a little running “pose” ahead of the race which was fun but held me back a little from reaching my pen. IT did get me talking to James Tarlton, a fellow Jewish Care supporter who was about to run his first Marathon.
Jewish Care "Pose"
On the previous Monday, 2 youths had set off a bomb at the Boston Marathon finish and killed three souls and injured many more. As a mark of respect we all wore black ribbons when we ran.
It was hot at the start and though a mere fortnight before there had been snow on the ground I knew this was going to be a warm one.
After 30 seconds silence ahead of the start in memory of Boston we were off.
The Start of London 2013
Memories of the course from three years earlier came flooding back. Something new however was the appearance of a man in a Borat-style mankni ahead of me in the pack. People winced as they watched the “garment” ride up his crack – yuk!
I love the part of the course when the three starting groups all converge like small tributaries joining a big river – it really gives you a sense of the sheer scale of the event.
Once again it was like running past a great street carnival. The combination of the events of Boston the week before and the sunshine brought people out in their masses – I had never seen support like it. Throughout the entire course people were egging us on.
Just before I went over the halfway point I spotted my brother and his girlfriend – gave me a massive lift and I crossed the halfway point in line with my target pace (around 1:35) so I knew that a PB was in sight at this point.
Crossing London Bridge Using my "6 Marathons" Gesture: Arse!
Then it was over the iconic London Bridge and a sharp right after Tower of London and into the no-mans land that is Docklands. It was not too bad and I came out the other side under the false sense of security that it was nearly over….WRONG!
The “wall” hit me like a slap in the face at mile 18 and my illness from just a few days earlier caused me to be searching for energy reserves…I simply had none.
But then I saw my wife and daughters cheering me on, pausing briefly to give them high fives… Then but a few yards later my brother, his wife and daughter and more high fives…
Then I was on my own and crawled to a walk, my face grimacing as all my muscles tightened and the pain shooting up my thighs.
Pain Coming into Parliament Square
Another shout from the sidelines, this time my friend and fellow Prince nut Manoj Jangra – I was too far away from him to high-five him but instead he got an outstretched hand/pointing finger and a loud grunt.
So close now….Approaching the Houses of Parliament along the Embankment..it’s a long slog though and once you turn right past Parliament you have nearly ANOTHER mile to cover before the finish.
Willing myself forward and resigning myself to the fact that I had missed getting a PB, I trotted along pat Buckingham Palace and then saw the time.
The Final Few Yards
A half-hearted “sprint” and I crossed the line.. Unbelievably I had shaved a minute off my San Sebastian time. The body can do amazing things even when you think all is lost you can rebound and surprise yourself.
I posed for my photo and used some insane hand gesture to indicate that this was marathon number 6…instead looked like a weirdo.
Triumphant at London 2013
Tingling in the face and hands returned but I knew what to do this time: salt and sweet drinks.
Then came one of the toughest bits of the race. I had to get myself from the finish line in Green Park to Russell Square where my nephew was having his birthday party in a bowling alley and where I would meet my wife and family for the car journey home.
It took a while to get there but finally I could bask in the glory of having conquered London and having wiped 51 minutes from my inaugural time just 3 years earlier.
I felt great, unstoppable and now had a new target in mind for my next race: Florence......
Friday, 14 March 2014
Chapter 11: The Road to San Sebastian Marathon 2012
I have a friend called Charlie Gordon Lennox who had run the Berlin Marathon the year before and we had toyed with running a marathon together.
After some deliberation we decided that Spain would be the ideal destination and San Sebastian a fine venue, not just for us but also for our spouses.
The difference here was that I never stopped training. I was covering 10-15 miles even in the downtime of summer holidays and cycling too in the South of France.
I even did my first half marathon at London’s Run to The Beat and managed a respectable 1:37. Finishing a competitive half marathon felt great but I did feel like a bit of a fraud as by definition it is only a “half” rather than a full one. It did give me memories of London and I wondered whether it was time for me to tackle the streets of my hometown one more time.
By the time November came round I had done my biggest EVER month of running at over 100 miles. Still arguably not enough but nevertheless it stood me in good stead for end November, a now traditional time of year for annual marathon no 2.
We didn’t train together but kept each other abreast of training developments and were both very excited when we met up on the Friday evening in San Sebastian (Hotel des Londres).
The first evening went without a hitch, as did day 2. Spent time at the Expo and bought some compression things for my calves in an attempt to save myself from shin splints and also bought a fabulous running top which I have since discarded as it made my nipples as little too visible (for a chap anyway).
So what was the problem here? Ah, the dreaded afternoon nap.
My wife and I settled down to a 2-hour snooze and woke up at 6:00pm.
We went out for dinner and then returned to the room hoping for a rapid descent into sleep but no.it was not to be.
I thrashed around, tossed and turned and failed miserable to get to sleep – until 3:30am!
Moral of the story – NEVER have an afternoon nap and also if you are in a strange bed, prepare to be awake for some time. Perhaps consider getting 2 twins instead of a double – hardly very romantic but practical nonetheless.
I was in a complete state when I eventually did wake up 3 hours later at 6:30am. I thought it was all over before it had even begun.
I felt sick and so disappointed.
Fortunately many people on Facebook were giving me hope as I had actually rested for the days leading up to the race.
The skies darkened and Charlie and I set off in a Taxi from the hotel to the start point where coffee and further sustenance were required.
The sounds of AC/DC Highway to Hell Blared out and we were off. The pelting rain unrelenting. But guess what, I put one foot in front of the other and things were working for me.
I saw Nicole and Sarah (Charlie’s wife) outside our hotel and threw them my waterproof. It was time to slug it out in the rain.
The course itself was 2 and a bit loops with quite a few twists and turns and fairly long period in industrial areas with very few spectators.
Good news was that the support when in the town, even in spite of the rain, was great. I was feeling fairly strong and my music was a stirring selection that banished any thoughts of sleepiness.
I also saw Nicole and Sarah twice more along the seafront stretch, which gave me a lift every time I saw them (and for the following 10 minutes).
I had however not turned data off on the phone I was using and at mile 22 I lost everything and had to run the last 4 miles with no music or audio encouragement about my progress. It made me mad and since then I know how to pace my electronica as well as myself.
I passed the 40k mark in 3:15 and knew that it was within my grasp to break the elusive 3:30 mark. Boy was that last 2k hard. The rain was coming down now harder and faster and the field was strong up front so I did feel as though I was going backwards a little.
The crowds pulled me towards the stadium and one more perimeter lap before entering the stadium for the third and final time.
And there it was: 3:28 on the scoreboard and I knew I had done it. I couldn’t believe that I had overcome exhaustion and no sleep to conquer my demons.
I crossed the line and saw Nicole and Sarah but was quickly moved into the tunnel at the stadium where I was given salty peanuts – inspired!! I was confident that there would be no trips to the equivalent of the St John’s Ambulance this time.
I hobbled out of the tunnel and was reunited with the ladies and waited patiently for Charlie to finish, which he did just a couple of minutes shy of 4 hours – he was made up and was a vision in orange as he crossed the line.
No time for long goodbyes as we need to walk back the hotel (2 miles!) and was able to wallow in Sarah and Charlie’s room so I could get changed and get our car as we needed to get back to Bilbao airport pronto! As we had a flight to catch I had no time to bask in the glory.
We were off and then back to the UK on a flight where we sat next to a lady whose husband had been taken seriously ill on his birthday weekend and they were returning to the UK as emergency passengers.
Puts things in perspective.....
After some deliberation we decided that Spain would be the ideal destination and San Sebastian a fine venue, not just for us but also for our spouses.
The difference here was that I never stopped training. I was covering 10-15 miles even in the downtime of summer holidays and cycling too in the South of France.
I even did my first half marathon at London’s Run to The Beat and managed a respectable 1:37. Finishing a competitive half marathon felt great but I did feel like a bit of a fraud as by definition it is only a “half” rather than a full one. It did give me memories of London and I wondered whether it was time for me to tackle the streets of my hometown one more time.
Run 2 The Beat: Cheating or a Proper Race?
By the time November came round I had done my biggest EVER month of running at over 100 miles. Still arguably not enough but nevertheless it stood me in good stead for end November, a now traditional time of year for annual marathon no 2.
We didn’t train together but kept each other abreast of training developments and were both very excited when we met up on the Friday evening in San Sebastian (Hotel des Londres).
So Excited About Picking up My Number
The Amazing Charlie Gordon Lennox
My wife and I settled down to a 2-hour snooze and woke up at 6:00pm.
We went out for dinner and then returned to the room hoping for a rapid descent into sleep but no.it was not to be.
I thrashed around, tossed and turned and failed miserable to get to sleep – until 3:30am!
Moral of the story – NEVER have an afternoon nap and also if you are in a strange bed, prepare to be awake for some time. Perhaps consider getting 2 twins instead of a double – hardly very romantic but practical nonetheless.
I was in a complete state when I eventually did wake up 3 hours later at 6:30am. I thought it was all over before it had even begun.
I felt sick and so disappointed.
Fortunately many people on Facebook were giving me hope as I had actually rested for the days leading up to the race.
The skies darkened and Charlie and I set off in a Taxi from the hotel to the start point where coffee and further sustenance were required.
The sounds of AC/DC Highway to Hell Blared out and we were off. The pelting rain unrelenting. But guess what, I put one foot in front of the other and things were working for me.
Where's Wally?
I saw Nicole and Sarah (Charlie’s wife) outside our hotel and threw them my waterproof. It was time to slug it out in the rain.
The course itself was 2 and a bit loops with quite a few twists and turns and fairly long period in industrial areas with very few spectators.
Good news was that the support when in the town, even in spite of the rain, was great. I was feeling fairly strong and my music was a stirring selection that banished any thoughts of sleepiness.
I also saw Nicole and Sarah twice more along the seafront stretch, which gave me a lift every time I saw them (and for the following 10 minutes).
I had however not turned data off on the phone I was using and at mile 22 I lost everything and had to run the last 4 miles with no music or audio encouragement about my progress. It made me mad and since then I know how to pace my electronica as well as myself.
I passed the 40k mark in 3:15 and knew that it was within my grasp to break the elusive 3:30 mark. Boy was that last 2k hard. The rain was coming down now harder and faster and the field was strong up front so I did feel as though I was going backwards a little.
No sleep: Can you tell?
The crowds pulled me towards the stadium and one more perimeter lap before entering the stadium for the third and final time.
And there it was: 3:28 on the scoreboard and I knew I had done it. I couldn’t believe that I had overcome exhaustion and no sleep to conquer my demons.
I crossed the line and saw Nicole and Sarah but was quickly moved into the tunnel at the stadium where I was given salty peanuts – inspired!! I was confident that there would be no trips to the equivalent of the St John’s Ambulance this time.
Finally: Breaking the 3:30 Barrier
No time for long goodbyes as we need to walk back the hotel (2 miles!) and was able to wallow in Sarah and Charlie’s room so I could get changed and get our car as we needed to get back to Bilbao airport pronto! As we had a flight to catch I had no time to bask in the glory.
We were off and then back to the UK on a flight where we sat next to a lady whose husband had been taken seriously ill on his birthday weekend and they were returning to the UK as emergency passengers.
Puts things in perspective.....
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