Marathon 15 - Portsmouth to Southampton: the one I didn't run

The previous marathon had ended up with me in hospital post-heart attack and recovering from a number of stents being put in my artery. I spent the next few days in what felt like a parallel universe detached from reality, a further four days in Southampton General hospital recovering, reliving the last ten days in my mind and going through all the emotions, wondering if I had been sensible or stupid, lucky or unlucky, complacent or pragmatic. 

Either way I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and care to the family who of course couldn’t come to visit given the strict Covid restrictions. People were providing meals and other support for Jayne and the kids, and I was getting lots of messages, positive thoughts and prayers. The chaplaincy team in the hospital were a great source of comfort and advice too. 

Banksy art at Southampton General. The NHS really are heroes and I was lucky that SGH is a cardiology specialist unit with such a great reputation

I had an MRI scan and was waiting to hear whether I needed to go for another stent procedure, which I must admit I wasn’t looking forward to. I was prepared by the nursing team for the operation but at the last minute the consultant cardiologist told me it wasn’t necessary at this stage as the heart and its ecosystem were so strong “you have many good collaterals” - a phrase I never thought I’d hear said.

So I was able to return home on the Thursday, a week ahead of Christmas, with a bag full of new drugs which will be my daily companion for life. It was an emotional return of course and I was so thrilled to be back. 

Home sweet home. a sight I was worried I might not see again

Meantime plans were afoot thanks to my brother in law Pete to run the 15th and final Marathon that coming Saturday. I was originally planning to run the Portsmouth Coastal marathon with him, his second marathon after the New Forest in September. He was trained, primed and ready to go. However the Coastal marathon had already been cancelled because of the Covid restrictions, so we planned to run a celebration marathon to mark the end of the challenge, with friends joining us at various points along the way from Queen Alexandra Hospital in Portsmouth to end at Southampton General (ironically enough) to highlight the importance of good care for those whose babies have died. The intention was to have representatives from Sands Pompey & Chichester and Sands Southampton & Winchester as well as Sands United Solent FC. In the intervening week in hospital though I lost contact with some of the groups and then Portsmouth was put into Tier 4 so plan A quickly turned to plans B, C, D and E, so I think we ended up with plan F! 

I was desperate to join them, I wanted to be there at the start and to see them and different points along the way, but the whole ordeal had wiped me out so I wasn’t out of bed until nearly 11am by which time he had run halfway! I was keen to get to the finish line though. 

I simply cannot thank Pete enough for continuing the challenge without me, for his organisation skills and for the enthusiasm he and my sister Kaye showed in making it happen, and to all the friends who joined along the way to make it so special. 

Starting point - Portchester Castle

Pete takes up the story: 

Standing in the shadows of Portchester Castle about to start the final ‘Marcathon’ WITHOUT MARC post-dramatic health issue.

Previously I was feeling slightly daunted in picking up the reins for Marc’s 15th Marathon in 15 months. Marc had done all the hard work up to planning route from Q.A Hospital to Princess Anne Maternity unit at Southampton Hospital, and enthusing others to join the run and support. The run had to go on for Marc and for SANDS. The Marcathon Whatsapp group was formed and I took the reins from there.

2020 was not over yet so from 00.01, on run day, Portsmouth went into tier 4! Change of start place and a few from SANDS sadly couldn’t wave us off. On Saturday morning, Kaye (my wife) drove the Funbus to Porchester Castle where we met Tony, a former colleague and good friend of Marc’s, for the first time. We started running at 9.30am round the extra loop to make up mileage lost from Q.A . 

Pete (white cap), Tony (yellow gloves), Keith (selfie), and half of Kev

We made excellent progress and, before we knew it, Kev & Keith came into view after Fareham viaduct to start their 5 miles.

We all ran past the bakery, avoiding temptation. Tony peeled off at Fareham railway station leaving us to run through Kev’s old turf at which point the hills beckoned. Kev & Tony set a good pace into the Meon valley, the incline more of a struggle but we made it up in good time. As we entered Keith’s old turf, I started recognising some familiar faces.

Just before our next rendezvous point, Kev suffered pain in his foot and dropped back leaving Keith and Myself to meet Vicki, a friend of Marc and Jayne’s from Netley Abbey parkrun at the ‘Sir Jo’ - our local pub. 

Vicki 'warming up'

We could see Vicki, as we passed Waypoint Church, donned in running kit and laminated SANDS tabard. 

Keith went back to meet Kev leaving us to run on to my house to don trail trainers as off road was looming in the distance. It was a thrill to see my family and many neighbours cheering us on. Kaye joined us for 2 miles but as we rounded the corner, screams were heard behind, as I turned a black bear like creature bounded quickly towards us. I wrestled with the hairy mass and handed Minnie our Tibetan Terrier back to my daughters to return her home.

Scare over, though nothing to compare with previous weekend’s heart attack and also those 15 families today facing a catastrophe. I wear my SANDS vest to highlight the charity.

pitstop with Vicki and Kaye now the support team 

The heavens opened for 5 minutes but we soon arrived in Warsash , Kaye alighting the Funbus again. Vicki & I ran on past the cheering supporters from Waypoint Church and on to Sarisbury Green where Vicki left to run home.

The next 3 miles I ran solo, which is what I’m used to, eagerly running through the Old Bursledon trails/streams. I looked forward to meeting my youngest daughters, Ruby and Eloise, who ran with me through Royal Victoria Country Park, (where Marc and Jayne run and volunteer for Netley Abbey parkrun most Saturdays outside COVID times) with more supporters clapping us along including Lucy, another of the Netley parkrun team.  

Marc's nieces joining Pete in RVCP- part of Netley Abbey parkrun course

Solo again crossing the flood at Western Shore, with a drive-by from our friend Jo which spurred me on to pick up the pace up to and over the Itchen Bridge to meet Suzie.

Along the river at Weston Shore

View from the Itchen Bridge of St Mary's stadium. The final leg in sight!

 I made the mistake of not checking which side of bridge to meet so ahead of estimated time Suzie ran her socks off to catch up!  We are over 20 miles now and next meet Peter from SANDS United at St Mary’s stadium. 

Peter - the Sands United Solent FC founder with his son Arthur's name
embroidered on his shirt, outside St Mary's

Super speedy Suzie caught us up

The legs were now hurting so Suzie and Peter kept me going for final miles. Up through Southampton Common and into Shirley. We missed a turn but picked our way through towards the Hospital.

Near Southampton Common, not long to go now

As we approached 26 miles, a little short of the finish, I managed to pick up the pace to cross the virtual 26.2 line. Suzie donned her SANDS top and the 3 of us ran up the hill to the Princess Anne Hospital. 

Sprint finish - the final 25 yards

I was overjoyed to see my family again and Marc’s daughters Liv and Sannah and … Jayne...  but I didn’t realize until I saw the mummified figure on the bench… IT WAS SO GOOD TO SEE MARC! Arms flayed ahead for our ManHug that would have to wait for another year…

Marc sat at the finish line outside Princess Anne Hospital (maternity wing of SGH) in his blanket - the man hug will just have to wait :-(  

Marc leading post-run stretching session whilst covered in blankets and winter clothes! 

Pete, thanks sooooo much for running, supporting and writing the blog! You’re spot on. It was emotional! We had followed progress throughout the morning through the social media entries and had decided I was well enough to be driven back to the hospital and stand outside for just ten minutes to see you, Suzie and Peter over the line. I was desperate to hug you, Peter and Suzie as well as Kaye and the family but Covid put paid to that. It will make our group hug all the sweeter, whenever that moment comes. It was an emotional moment, the end of not just this marathon I hadn’t been able run but the end of the fifteen in fifteen challenge. It was fantastic to have the children and Jayne with me, the greatest supporter of all. 

Pete's well deserved beer that afternoon

The special medal Kaye later had inscribed for Pete

Pete had finished his second marathon in a fantastic time of just under 4 hours, and had found it a better run than his first one with me in September at the New Forest marathon. 

We do a short piece to the camera to thank everyone, and head back to the warmth of the car and back home, where I sleep for an hour and a half! Meantime the donations have continued to flood in, up to and beyond £6,000 over the coming days and into the New Year. 

As Pete said, when I started the adventure, 15 families a day in the UK were suffering the tragedy of their baby dying through stillbirth or neonatal death. During the course of the year it has reduced to 14, and at one point I had even considered dropping a marathon to indicate that encouraging statistic. As it turns out that decision was made for me! 

We are hopeful of course that over the coming years the figure will drop to 13, 12, 11, below 10 and beyond the government’s target of 7-8 by 2025. It will take a huge effort and of course we wait to see what impact COVID-19 has had on the figures. But one thing is for sure, it won’t reduce without a concerted, collaborative effort by researchers, NHS staff, government intervention, the generosity of sponsors and supporters, the hard work of SANDS and its partners, and above all the courage of those bereaved parents who have shared their stories and raised awareness of the terrible impact of baby death and the need for improvements in care and support. for more details see Sands' webpage

It has been an amazing, collaborative effort by everyone over the last 15 months. thank you so much! the fundraising page will remain open for a few more weeks 

When I’ve caught my breath properly I’ll do a final blog reflecting on the 15 in 15 challenge as a whole, in the meantime thank you once again for your incredible support and for reading the 15 in 15 blogs. 

Take care and stay safe everyone! Marc 

Marathon 14: the story of my life - the one with the heart attack

Given the number of cancelled events it was a quick turnaround from the speedy Grand Prix marathon at Goodwood to the next one six days later. 

Between times we had reached £5,000 which was always my ‘stretch’ target. We started with the aim of £2,500 but soon surpassed that, but to reach £5,000 was a phenomenal effort by everyone – huge thank yous all round! Further details here

Around mile 3 of the Goodwood marathon I had had a slight twinge around my chest area but just thought that it was as a result of a quick start, so had thought nothing of it during the race itself. During the intervening days I felt it once or twice but again just thought it was down to the effort I had expended in reaching a massive personal best. I didn’t run for two days, ran a reasonably gentle 10k on the Wednesday evening with no after effects, and then carbed up and stopped running as usual for the two days before the marathon on the Saturday. 

ready for the off at Winchester 

Before I set out on Marathon 14, yet another home-made marathon after more cancellations, I named it ‘The Story of My life’… I thought it would be fun to retrace my steps as a child and teenager through certain parts of Hampshire, particularly as some friends of my parents had expressed an interest in seeing me run at some stage. So I plotted a route which started at my birthplace of Winchester hospital and would end up at my current home, taking in homes and schools along the way.. 

I started at 9am on the Saturday, at this point we were in tier 2 so we could be outdoors as a six. I’m meeting three former colleagues from my time working in Winchester, all of whom had encouraged me on my marathon adventures over the past few months. Jayne dropped me outside the hospital ready for the 9am start. 

Martin was already in position and was already jumping and clapping, more to generate heat than in his excitement to see me I think, as it really was cold. 

The Royal Hampshire County Hospital in Winchester is an important place in Harder history – many of us were born there and/or have received treatment and care over the years – I had my appendix out there (unintentionally escaping a number of GCSE exams many years ago!), grandparents and parents have received treatment or even spent their last days there, our daughter was rushed there after an asthma attack a few years back, and it was the place of my birth. It’s a special place too because I was christened there by the hospital chaplain at just one hour old – I was born with some complications to my back so was whisked off to Southampton General in an ambulance with my Dad very quickly after my birth whilst mum recovered in Winchester. If you know the rest of today’s story you’ll see the uncanny parallel with the journey I was about to make on this marathon… 

I dedicate this marathon to all those childhood friends whose babies have sadly died over the past few years, and to those who didn’t survive difficult births in Winchester hospital in the 70s and subsequently. Sands provide support for as long as is required www.sands.org.uk  

With my biggest supporter ready to go

Back to the start; Mike and Andy also joined Martin and I, and after the obligatory photocall we set off down the hill towards St Cross. This was the best bit of the marathon – we were fresh and it was all downhill! I took it steady as I could feel a bit of a dull ache which I told Andy was heartburn, and we took it steady through Hockley and Twyford, and onto my parents-in-law’s house in Colden Common at 5.5 miles, bang on 9 minute miles. They had kindly left some water out for us and Jayne met us briefly to cheer us on. The lads left me at this point to turn back towards their homes, and Rich joined me for a significant chunk of the run. 

Through Twyford with Team TP 

I met Rich through the local running club we joined this year which has been an absolute godsend during such an arduous year, especially with no parkrun or other social activities. It’s been a good way to socialise as we are allowed to run in organised groups, depending on the nature of the prevailing restrictions.  Rich’s wife Emma is part of the club too and is training in Sports Massage; earlier in the week had worked her magic on my legs, between the two marathons, which was much needed! 

Rich and I headed down to Fisher’s Pond where we were joined by Cathy and Rod, family friends who are parents of two of my closest school friends Tim and Nick. They had offered to cycle behind us for a few miles, which was a huge help not just for the vocal encouragement but because this stretch of road for about 3 miles had no footpath. So their fluorescence helped alert drivers of vehicles behind us that there were runners on the road! We also had an unexpected cheer from my parents who had travelled up from Dorset to cheer me on, ahead of a pre-arranged Christmas present swap that afternoon, as we knew by this point we weren’t going to be bubbling at Christmas. 

Along the main road through Upham

We were maintaining a steady 9 minute mile pace as we ran through Upham and onwards to Bishops Waltham, where David, one of my parents’ closest friends and retired paramedic (handy!!) joined on his bike too. It was warming up a little by this point, so I was glad I hadn’t layered up too much when I had set out. Kev joined us bang on 10 miles, and we kept going up the long incline into Bishops Waltham, the village/town where I grew up. My parents were there again to wave at us and cheer us on with more of their friends on the side of the road as we dropped down past the site of my childhood home (subsequently sadly demolished for some studio flats), past the supermarket where I worked as a teenager into the town square and up the High Street, familiar sights I knew so well but hadn’t been through for many, many years. 

At the bottom of the incline into BW

Bishops Waltham High Street retains its quaint and community feel despite the number of housing developments creeping in on its outer edges, and memories of summer carnival parades, Christmas Carols in the Square and waiting to catch the bus to college came flooding back. Rod encouraged me to soak up the ‘glorious homecoming’ which was a nice sentiment, though I’m not enough of a Bishops Waltham celebrity to wave to the people in the greengrocers’ where Amanda Holden once worked. Mind you, in one sense our careers have converged, both pushing for national change through the baby loss charities we are involved in. 

Through BW High Street at 11 miles. No carol singing this December! 

Up past the Bunch of Grapes pub and into St Peter’s Churchyard. Many a tale could be told about the escapades of the St Peters Youth Group class of late-1980s within its flint walls, but I shall protect the innocent and move on… David’s wife Beryl was waiting on the bench with water for the runners and cyclists, and we stopped to catch our breath for a couple of minutes. Maybe in hindsight I should have taken the advice to sit down for a few moments but I was eager to crack on, knowing that there were some tough hills to come later on and I would struggle to get up from a sitting position so we started again, Rich was looking very strong indeed (generally he is much quicker than me) and Kev too was looking fresh, mind you he had only done a couple of miles downhill by this point where I had run 11.

Outside St Peters Church with the support team

Back to 1975 and after the hospital christening and the ordeal of the operation on my back, St Peter’s had been the venue for a family gathering and a blessing for me at six weeks old; it became an important part of our lives – my sister was married there, our Sunday School, Youth Groups, uniformed groups, etc were generally gathered around this central community, with many lifelong friendships formed for my parents and for us as children. The friendships my parents have enjoyed over the years are mirrored in our friendship with for example Kev and Suzie, which are life-giving and life-affirming, and at the moment during the marathon we’re all running, a lifeline. Whatever your views of ‘the church’, it has been core to my 45 years thus far, around which many life events, community projects and lifelong friendships have evolved. Yes, St Peter’s is the best part of 900 years old and is a magnificent example of an enduring church building but for me church has always been and always be about church being the people – ecclesia – ‘a body of people’- our current church meets online because we don’t own a building, we usually meet in a school on a Sunday but more than ever we are exploring what it means to be the church as the people – the community – not the building.  

Anyway onwards from St Peter’s, thanking Cathy and Beryl who leave us at this point, and over the road to the Junior School, there is now a footpath running through it which helps us to shave a few hundred metres off the run, good news as the course is going to be 27-28 miles if we run its full length. Through the football pitches where I spent many of my playtimes and PE lessons shouting instructions from my position of goalkeeper!! Onwards through the estate and out towards the country lanes again. I think it was at this point I realised we were slowing slightly, not that it mattered as I wasn’t trying to break any records (that was the previous week!), but I could tell it was beginning to become a chore rather than a joy. We reached the halfway mark at around 1h58, so pretty much bang on 9 minute miles, but I knew it would be hard to maintain this speed in the second half. 

We ran past my secondary school in Swanmore, its old school sports fields long-since turned into housing estate, but the school still in situ, providing fond memories of summer cricket matches and less fond memories of winter rugby PE lessons, and least fond of all, cross country; memories of me as the kid at the back of the group, last back to the school site :-) how times have changed and I wonder what my old PE teachers would think of me now achieving multiple marathons around the 4 hour mark.  

Swanmore School

Never ran cross-country this quick aged 14!

We take a slightly wrong turn down a country lane and end up ankle-deep in mud before retracing our steps and rejoining the road where the cycling support convoy join us presently. Back down the main road into the other side of Bishops Waltham, past the centuries-old palace and back to the roundabout. I advise that the route takes us up a short but significantly steep hill, which I christen ‘cardiac hill’ as a bit of a joke, again an irony / self-fulfilling prophecy as it turns out. The chest is a bit sore at this stage as we go back past our old house and the old infant school where Rod reminds me of a few of the escapades Tim and I got up to 40 years ago… Back up the hill and we pass the 16 mile mark, only 10 to go, it’s hard but we spot Mum and Dad again who are waving from outside the corner shop from which I had a short-lived stint as a paper boy. I think I yell a phrase from my childhood to them, ‘are we nearly there yet?’, part in jest but part in all seriousness because it hurts and it’s cold and I just want to hug my mum after 9 months and OWW WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS YOU CRAZY FOOL?

Kev leaves us at mile 17 and we are back out on the country lanes now approaching Durley, not doing badly but dropping a bit of pace as we climb the hill towards the pub… how nice would it have been to stop inside, instead we stop outside as our friends Steve and Lyn, great supporters of the marathon challenge, have brought water and snacks from their house down the road to cheer us on. I just want to collapse in the boot of their car but after a couple of minutes chat dig in deep to start again and carry on. After about ten yards I stop again and think of giving up but start again, slowly. 

Durley support team - Lyn, Steve, Rod, David, Rich

Chris, another local friend and runner now joins us as we take on the ups and downs of Durley, round the back of the golf course and say goodbye to David and Rod at Durley Church at mile 20, they’ve been fantastic support crew and amazing supporters on the day, cycling around half of the marathon with us. We’re on familiar territory now, back through Horton Heath and on to Fair Oak, about 15 minutes later than planned, we see Emma and children waving and cheering us on, it gives a real boost as I’m really flagging at this point. 

Rich leaves us and Emma joins for the final five miles, as we go past the schools where our children study and into the village. Two of our children are at the bottom of the hill to wave us on, it’s amazing to see them and great that I can finally have a hug after 22 miles! Jayne and Suzie join us there so there are five of us running the last 4 miles. 

With Jayne and two of our children at mile 22. wanted to stop here! 

The next two miles are probably two of the toughest I have run not just today but throughout the course of the whole challenge. Even though Jayne is with me and I have a great support crew, I have very little energy to talk and I’m concentrating on breathing, it’s cold and I really don’t feel great but I’m determined to press on. It feels like I am looking at my watch and every time I do it hasn’t moved forwards. Every step is an effort and the watch seems perpetually stuck at 23.5 miles. I keep telling myself there’s less than a parkrun to go, but it seems to take forever to get past the 24 mile point. 

We stop outside Gav and Hannah’s garden for some water they’ve left out for us and onwards to the 6th form college where I took my A Levels. Suzie has provided a lovely surprise, her mum is there waving and hollering support even when we’re still 500 yards away, it’s a wonderful sight, she’s such a beautiful person and wonderful supporter. Sadly she and Suzie have just had a bereavement of their own which makes it all the more emotional to see her, and I can’t deny this is the point where I’m a bit broken both physically and emotionally, and the tears start to build up. 

Barton Peveril college - Suzie's mum and entourage shouting us on

We round the corner and head back to collect water from Hannah and Gav’s, and there’s less than half a mile to go. At this point Suzie leaves us to head for home which is the other side of Eastleigh, and points out that she’s noticed me holding my chest at different stages of the run and that I should get it checked out when I get home. 

I push for the final half mile and just about manage to raise my hand in victory as we pass the 26.2 mile mark on Eastleigh railway bridge. My intention is to stop briefly and jog the final couple of miles back home but I’m absolutely done in and can only just manage a shuffling walk. The running time has been 4 hours 7 minutes – but I’m not too worried about it at this stage, I just want to get home. 

Jayne, Emma and Chris run back so that Jayne can collect the car and I gradually walk back. A few minutes later Jayne picks me up and I get a lift for the last half mile or so back home. I don’t feel great but it’s not that different to a usual marathon, so I have a bath, a shower and something to eat. But I know something isn’t quite right as for once I don’t fancy very much and nor do I want my usual Badger Beer. It’s been a great day down memory lane full of smiles and laughter; in one way the best fun I’ve had on a marathon, in another way the worst run of them all! 

The sponsorship and the messages come in after we’ve posted some pictures up on social media, and I check back in with those who’ve run and cycled with me whilst I lie on the sofa. Mum and Dad pop round and we chat over a mince pie at a distance on the patio for a few minutes whilst they give us some bags and boxes of Christmas presents for the 25th. It’s all a little surreal. They are a bit concerned that I don’t look so good so I promise to take it steady and if in doubt check it out. 

Later on Kev and Suzie are in touch and are also concerned that I’m still not feeling right; they give me more than a little encouragement to get checked out, what harm would it do, you can’t get an ECG at home, all it will cost you is a few hours’ sleep, etc. After a long call with the triage nurse on 111 I am told I need to consult a doctor either over the phone or face to face, but given the covid pressures it might take 12 hours to get a call back so eventually I concede and accept Kev’s kind offer to drive me to Southampton General. 

It’s pushing 11pm now and I’m hopeful a Saturday night at A&E won’t be as busy as rumours would have it. I get seen pretty quickly with bloods taken and an ECG and chest X-ray carried out along with the usual observations and wait in Majors for a cardiology specialist. After telling my story and describing my symptoms to various doctors and nurses I feel a little sheepish and that I’m almost wasting their time. Things are still inconclusive until eventually the results of the bloods come back and indicate that I’ve had a heart attack sometime in the past few days, presumably during or just before the Goodwood marathon. 

Runners' buff doubles as a good eye mask in hospital 

Given my condition and prognosis they are amazed – I should have arrived in an ambulance and be in resus right now but here I am sat up in on a hospital bed talking lucidly about the last few days and taking the shock of it all in my stride. They call me the Miracle Marathon Man and admit me upstairs to Coronary Care Unit. Tomorrow (well today as it’s now 3am) I will have an angiogram and likely a stent or two fitted. It’s all a lot to take in. There’s no question now that next weekend’s planned marathon number 15 will be off, but the greater prize of being with family and friends again is worth the disappointment.  

Of course I wonder if I’ve overdone and whether two marathons in a week was too much. However the doctors all tell me that I shouldn’t regret doing so many marathons – it’s likely that my fitness over the last few years has saved me; evidently this is a hereditary problem that hasn’t been picked up as yet, so the marathons are being seen as a saviour rather than a cause. I have run two marathons on a heart attack! The heart must be strong, so I’m reassured that I’m in a good position to recover well. I wait until 7am before making a few phone calls and sending a few messages to let people know what’s going on. There are a couple of tearful conversations with the family, tears of shock, grief, joy, relief, sadness; all the emotions come out. 

Just like 45 years previously, I get to see the hospital chaplain just before my operation at Southampton General; she quickly becomes a new friend over the coming days and I appreciate her concern, care and wisdom. Chaplains are often overlooked but play a crucial part in the hospital team supporting families in their darkest times, as I’ve found out over the years with Sands. 

Over the course of the next few hours I’m prodded and poked, pricked and probed, prepped and plied with drugs ahead of the operation. I have a couple of hours sleep before I’m taken down at about 11.30am. The procedure is long, painful, disturbing but above all is a success, and I'm once again reminded of the skill and dedication of our NHS staff. A 40 minute process ended up taking nearly 3 hours as it got a bit complicated. It was difficult to bear as I was only on a local rather than general anaesthetic but thankfully they didn't need to do a bypass, just a stent for now. It turns out there has been a blocked artery, likely clogged up for many years, that has only just come to light. The heart has essentially created its own back up system with lots of B-roads taking blood to and from the heart, meaning that I had 'excellent collaterals'  that helped me out over this past week when the other artery blocked. It could have been very different.

I have so many thoughts and feelings going through my head but have a number of over-riding reflections on gratitude: 

1) I am grateful for my health- I have been promoting the benefits of running and good healthy exercise for the last few years and thank goodness I sorted myself out in time! 

2) I am grateful for friends who know when you need a bit of tough love and not to mollycoddle you all the time!!   

3) I am grateful for my family - my parents who have cared since that day 1 in Winchester, my wife who has spent half of my life with me and my children who have provided so much fun over the last 16 years. I am grateful for my sister, brother and wider family. 

4) I am grateful for our amazing NHS, for all they do despite the pressures they are under right now. You'd never have realised there was a pandemic going on - their calmness and care was extraordinary. 

Post - operation, feeling weak! 

So marathon 14 is done, and sadly my planned final 15th marathon won’t be the end to the challenge I had hoped, running from Portsmouth to Southampton next Saturday. 

The next few days and weeks will be an altogether different marathon. 

Appropriate medal for marathon 14 !!

Marathon 13 of 15: Goodwood GP marathon for Malachi: the one where I smashed a PB

Arrival at Goodwood

Three weeks had passed since the Southampton swimming gala that was Marathon 12 of the 15 challenge. We were coming out of Lockdown 2.0 and looking forward to moving into Tier 1 and ready for the Goodwood GP running festival, with the plan being for me to run the marathon and Jayne the 10k. However to our shock we were moved into Tier 2 which meant that no spectators were allowed at the Goodwood motor circuit, and no household mixing indoors meant that we couldn’t ask grandparents or friends to look after the children. Kindly but sadly Jayne pulled out of the 10k to enable me to focus on the 13th Marathon of the 15 challenge. I was grateful the event was still taking place but it would be much scaled back and a bit bitter-sweet. 

We had raised a good amount of money in Marathon 12, I think people really felt for me and the support team out in the rain, so we were up and over the £4,000 mark and on track for the £5,000 target by the end of the challenge in a few weeks’ time. 

In the run up to the marathon it was Grief Awareness Week and I was reminded by my work with Sands of giving space and giving a voice to bereaved families – I wrote a blog for the Institute of Health Visiting 

I’ve been struck recently how in society we’ve begun to move on from the taboo of talking about death and in particular the death of a baby. Maybe this is through necessity given the current crisis we are living in. I’ve found that people are more open to talking about their grief journeys, be that The Duchess of Sussex, Chrissy Tiegen or other public figures, or those closer to home. 

A few days before the marathon it was Malachi’s 8th birthday. Malachi, the son of our friends Rob and Karen, sadly died at birth in December 2012, and their reflections on his birthday earlier in the week reminded me exactly why I do the job I do and why I run the race I am running. We long to see the numbers of babies dying at birth significantly reduce (the national target is to halve it from 5,000 a year (15 a day) by 2025), and to ensure high quality care and support for bereaved families. So I promised to dedicate this race to him and to his wonderful parents and older sisters who love him so dearly. 

Training had gone well, with tapering down during the intervening weeks, sleeping well and carbing up in the last couple of days. I felt confident that I could break 4 hours again and maybe even go one better than the 3h57m from the Southampton rain festival in November. The weather looked cold but largely dry, and on a flat surface around the GP circuit I felt I could have a good go at the target. I had already committed to marathons 14 and 15 on consecutive weekends after Goodwood, three in three weekends, so I knew this was probably my chance to get an official PB ahead of two ‘virtual’ marathons around the streets of Hampshire once more. 

The empty grandstands

My friend Kev was also due to run the 10k but we travelled separately given the restrictions and I arrived at Goodwood with mixed feelings, delighted to run a ‘proper race’ but feeling a little subdued that the family weren’t there to cheer me on, and that Jayne was missing her race. As I got out of the car I was greeted with a biting wind, which really took the breath away, and forced me to make a decision about the protective clothing I would need to wear. I didn’t want to suffer the cold too much whilst waiting for the start but at the same time I didn’t want to overheat on the race itself. It was shorts on top of running leggings, two layers up top (three if you count the protective plasters ;-)) and gloves and a hat.

The car park was getting quite busy as I made my way over to the main circuit, under the racetrack to the main pavilion. There were lots of runners but everyone was being sensible and keeping their distance.  A large number marshals were on hand to direct people but there was nowhere indoors to stay warm so it was a case of trying to keep walking to keep off the cold. I found a spot about 200m from the finish line to put my water and running gels so that I wouldn’t have to carry them with me. We were going to be running 11 laps so there was going to be plenty of opportunity to stop for them along the way. 

Time for a warm up

It was great to bump into Chris, my fellow parkrun run director from Netley, seeing a running friend in the flesh at a race for the first time in months was both reassuringly familiar and bizarre at the same time. 

The marathon runners were called forward to a 2-metre distanced warm-up and soon we were being ushered forward to the start line based on predicted finish time. One guy shuffled forward on the ‘2 hours 30’ call, and got a round of applause. That time isn’t far off Olympic qualifying time! I went forward on the 4 hour call and we lined up like Formula 1 cars on the grid. Every 10 seconds groups of 4 were set off, and we were go go go! We had to run away from the grandstand for a few hundred metres before taking a hairpin bend back to the start, which, together 11 full laps would total 26.2 miles. 

The starting grid

I tried to make sure that for the first lap I kept the headphones off, just taking in the surroundings and familiarising myself with the track. It was sunny yet the wind was still biting, and I found that the first half of the track was a bit of a battle into the wind, but the second half was more than reasonable, especially when the sun was out. With a buff around my neck it was easy to adjust, pulling it up over my nose and ears on the outward half and pulling it back down on the inward. 

Along the trackside were the mile markers, counting down to 1 mile, rather than the usual practice of counting upwards from 1 to 26! … of course it meant you saw the 8, 5, 2 mile markers even on your first lap, which was a little soul-destroying at times when you still had 20+ to go! Anyway I got into a rhythm pretty quickly; I was planning to run 9 minute miles or less for 20 miles and then do the last 10k in an hour, in order to break 4 hours. That was the plan at least. I realised I had gone out a bit faster than planned but it felt comfortable so I kept at a steady 8m40 pace for the first few miles. I passed the grandstand a couple of times and before I knew it 5 miles was down and I was bouncing along the tarmac enjoying the novelty of a ‘proper’ race. It was reasonably quiet on the track with the marathon runners spread out but soon we were joined by the quicker half-marathoners and then the 10k runners too, so it got busier. Of course you then get overtaken by the speed demons which can be a little disconcerting but you just keep reminding yourself to run your own race and nobody else’s, even if you’re getting overtaken frequently. 

I pass the hour mark at 7 miles, a bit ahead of schedule, and grab my first gel from the side of the track. Arsene Wenger’s Desert Island Discs keeps me going for half an hour or so as does the hilarious BBC Radio 4 Comedy The Now Show (well worth a listen), and before I know it I’m halfway there in 1 hour 52, maybe 3 or 4 minutes ahead of plan, but feeling good. If I can keep the 9 minute miles going for a further 7 miles I feel I will break the 4 hours and maybe even break 3h57 which was the time I set in last month’s rain festival. 

One of the vagaries of today’s race is seeing small aircraft and helicopters taking off from the field in the middle of the race track, but it helps take your mind off of the hard running to watch the planes soar into the distance and imagine where they are flying to as they climb over the South Downs and away. 

As I approach the end of lap 6 of 11 I hear the familiar voice of Kev shouting me on from the grandstand; he has completed his 10k in a speedy time, which is great news. I call out to him that I’m over halfway and on track for a good time too. 

As I approach the next bend I see the familiar sight of the long yellow running socks of my good friend and former colleague Tony. I had found out the night before that he was running the half marathon, so I’m glad I’ll have the chance to talk to him, briefly, if I can catch him at least! It takes the best part of a lap but as I approach him I see someone running next to him, coincidentally in a Sands vest! This is a real boost, so I catch them up and chat to both of them, it’s Peter from Portsmouth & Chichester Sands and it’s amazing to see him and chat for a few moments. He is running the 20 mile version today and is doing really well. So is Tony, and he later shares that he has smashed a half marathon PB. Tony will be joining me at the final marathon in a fortnight’s time to run the first few miles, and hopefully Peter will join us too along with other folk from Portsmouth & Chichester Sands as we run from Queen Alexandra hospital in Portsmouth to the Princess Anne Maternity Unit at Southampton General. 

Tony's socks and Peter's back pack, both welcome sights

On the next lap Kev gives me a quick call and we have a brief chat about his race, he is about to head home and I can’t blame him, I tell him there’s no point waiting around in the cold for another couple of hours for me to finish. He has been a constant source of encouragement all along the way of the challenge and has been around at every one of the marathons bar the one in Gloucester, so it’s great to see him even though it is for a fleeting moment. Jayne then gives me a quick call to check in on progress and it’s suddenly 17 miles down, only 9 to go. 

When I get to 9 miles I always think that it’s just 3 parkruns to go, which is a bit of a milestone and feels a bit more manageable. I’ve resisted the temptation to put on any music as yet but this is a good time to get some beats going and to keep the adrenalin going, I find that some 1970s groove like Chic can often do the trick as well as some of Coldplay’s livelier tracks. 

Around 20 miles I realise I am about 4-5 minutes ahead of schedule, so think that even if I drop to 10 minute miles for the last 6 miles I will still be on track for a big PB, so I just aim to keep it steady. However this is when the doubts come in, the breaths are getting heavier, each step is getting harder and all I want to do is stop on the side of the track. However the only place I seriously consider doing this happens to be in front of an ambulance and an emergency crew on standby, so I think this unwise in case I get scooped up and taken back to the start..! I keep telling myself to push on through and that it will all be worth it. Thoughts turn to Malachi and his family, and I remind myself of all the friends and family I have whose baby has died, sadly it’s a rather long list, but it spurs me on to keep going and to keep reminding myself why I am doing the challenge. Soon I’m at the finish line for one more lap, the MC encouraging us as we go past, and I’m determined to finish strongly. 

The last lap is both the hardest and the easiest – hardest because the wind comes in really strongly with about a mile to go, almost taking your breath away, but the easiest in the sense that you know the end is nigh and a good time is on the cards. I keep pushing and eventually the finish line comes into view one last time. I push hard for a strong finish, I wouldn’t call it a sprint but it’s a good finish, overtaking a couple of runners just before the funnel but out-run by another guy who has the legs to sprint over the line. 

I look down at the watch and can scarcely believe a time of 3.53.08!! I’ve taken almost 5 minutes off my PB and feel elated. It’s just so gutting that no friends or family are there to celebrate with me, but never mind, another marathon and another medal are safely in the bag, with more awareness and more funds raised! I bump into Chris and wish him well before I make my way over to the car. 

Unexpected massive PB!

I give Jayne and the kids a call and they are chuffed for me,  then call Kev once I’m back at the car and in the warm. Getting out of the wind and into the warm car is almost as much of a win as the PB itself, it feels so good! 

GP Medal to accompany the frostbitten beard

There’s no point hanging around and I might as well get back on the road to get home to a bath and a beer, and start the short recovery phase, ready for Saturday’s Marathon number 14. This one will be ‘the story of my life’ as I run from my birthplace of Winchester hospital and through the villages where I grew up before running home. 

Traditional pint of Golden Champion 

- favourite Badger Beer

Only a few months ago there’s no way I would’ve even thought about driving on marathon legs but I feel fine and it’s not long before I’m home and checking the JustGiving page. We’ve had a number of donations taking us up to around £4,500 which is really incredible. The next morning I receive the most amazing surprise as an extremely generous donation on top of everyone else’s kind donations has taken up and over the £5,000 mark. Mission accomplished. Thank you to each and every one of you who has supported the challenge. 

This is a great way to start another week of working at Sands, and it’s not long before I’m deep in work discussions, being reminded of the real reason that I run these races by reading some of the stories of Sands families. On Monday afternoon I make an online presentation about bereavement care to the MPs who initially asked Sands to set up the project I’ve had the privilege of managing for the last 4 years. 

The 15 marathon challenge has been about pushing myself to the limit, to achieve things I’ve never achieved before, and to raise awareness and funds -  but above all it’s been for those bereaved families devastated by the loss of their longed-for baby. 

And this one, number 13, was especially for Malachi and his family.