Midway report: the ups and downs of running

So here we are halfway between the first marathon in the New Forest and the second in Reading on 19 October. Since I left Brockenhurst almost three weeks ago  I’ve experienced the highs and lows of running, which has helped me reflect on how fortunate I am - on so many levels. 

Firstly to say we’re really grateful for the great support we’ve received over the past few weeks since the first marathon was completed. 

Secondly, what a relief to have a bit of rest. Having come through the first of the 15 marathons reasonably unscathed, I took a few days off running to try and restore the legs, with just a couple of recovery runs in the first week after New Forest. With six weeks in between the first and second marathon I knew I had the luxury of a few days to rest up, so took full advantage (though I should’ve probably been more careful in regard to food portions and breaking a midweek no alcohol rule!) in that first week. My recovery run of six miles coincided with Jayne's final 12 mile training run for her half marathon (more below) and it was great to trot round Fair Oak together - painful as it was for both of us! A couple of days later I ran a surprisingly quick parkrun (26 minutes) when visiting Southsea with 20+ friends from our Thrive Church running community. We are so fortunate to have such a supportive group of friends and family, and it was good to celebrate some of their parkrun milestones whilst we were there. 

Thrive go on a Southsea trip

I gradually began building up the miles again, planning a long run for 2 hours - around 12 miles, during week 2 and an 18 miler this week- week 3 before tapering down again. 

My brother in law has recently taken up running and done rather well rather quickly, (a source of both inspiration and admittedly some envy - in just a few months he has already run a sub 21 parkrun, something those of us running mid 20s are still dreaming of.) It's always great to run with him though and fortunately this week our diaries enabled us to meet up. We set off from the  Botley car park rendezvous and headed down the country lanes through to the beautiful Manor Farm country park; just gently running and chatting at a steady/slow pace, enjoying a catch up and the wonderful views of the River Hamble in the morning sun. The park gives you the opportunity to run through fields, woods, tracks and river paths, a wonderful mix of terrain; largely flat but with some undulation. Not particularly challenging, but enough to keep you mindful of your surrounds. A great place to run and chat. 

Speedy Pete

Without realising it we had reached the halfway point and headed back to the car, and all was well. A quick drink - he headed off after his six miles and I went back out for another loop of the park. As I headed back towards the park and down the lanes I lost myself in a podcast mashup (mine tend to consist of a mix of Brexit, panel comedy shows and sport- many great moments with the cricket this summer) - everything was on track. 

Beautiful Manor Farm and River Hamble

Then - disaster! As I trotted through the woods listening to the latest Brexit shenanigans being unpacked, I stumbled over a protruding tree root and went flying. Graceful it was not! These things seem to happen in slow motion, and in that moment so many things flashed through my mind.... if I land badly I’ll miss the next marathon... I’m going to end up with a mouthful of dirt... please God don’t let me twist an ankle...is anyone watching -or worse filming- me?

I ended up on my back looking up at the tree tops and sky above, gathering my thoughts and assessing the damage. Two badly bruised and bleeding knees, the same outcome for one elbow. Wounded pride, badly winded but overall, actually not as bad as it could have been. I told myself to just dust yourself down, get your breath back, channel your inner Mo Farah and get your Chumbawumba on - I get knocked down but I get up again etc. But actually it was really tough to do that and I just wanted to lie there for a while. It reminded me that it’s great to have a friend alongside you because it halves the job of getting back up - at the point I fell, I could really have done with Pete there to help me up again, (even with the embarrassment of it all). It felt pretty lonely for a while and a bit daunting to get back up and at it to be honest.

The fall had come out of the blue; everything had been going to plan, just getting on with it and, boom! your world literally turned upside down, fortunately for me, for only for a few seconds. For many, a momentary event leads to a lifetime of pain. Luckily I managed to get up and (albeit very gingerly) to jog round and back to the car. Every foot strike reminded me how sore it was, and it hurt like it had aged 8 on the school football pitch, but I was still standing.  That afternoon the bruises came up but ice and antiseptic cream eased the worst of it. The next morning I was stiff as a board, and every time I got up from the desk it ached bad. But a couple days later it had largely gone. A few encouraging comments on Strava reminded me not just of how lucky I was to have had avoided a nasty injury but also just how supportive a group of friends can be.  Within 3 days I was able to run 7 miles including a decent parkrun at Eastleigh where it was great to see chief support crew in Kev and Suzie. 

Emboldened by the purchase of some new trail shoes I have found online- I set off on another week’s training. Convincing myself that the new shoes will keep my feet on the ground and my backside off the floor, I head for the river again on my next long run- this time the Itchen. I assiduously look out for every tree root or obstacle along the way. Eleven miles in and everything is going well, despite the intermittent, apocryphal rain which is causing havoc on the nearby roads; I’ve navigated the River Itchen path up to Winchester and have turned for home. Having crossed a flooded road without taking too much rain on board my new shoes,  I slightly misjudge a puddle whilst heading up a slight incline along the towpath and slide ingloriously back down the bank, skidding along my left thigh through a few feet of wet mud. I manage to avoid falling in the river and manage to get a grip (literally and metaphorically) and get to my feet more quickly than the previous week. My left leg and shorts are plastered in mud but thankfully it is a much softer landing than the previous week. 

In the past I think I may well have quit there and then or at least stomped away in a bit of a strop- twice in a week is enough- but with the experience of the previous week in the locker I get up again, grateful for a smoother landing than last week, and head for home. It’s wet, it’s grim, there's 8 or so miles to go and I can feel the blisters beginning to form, but it’s all worth it.

The muddy one - not the bloody one! (too gross to share)

I am looking forward to the next marathon with Saturn Running in Reading in three weeks time. Although it will be a challenge to run 8 laps of 3.5 miles (I always prefer a circular route, or at least an out and back), it’s great that a few family and Thrive friends are coming along to run a lap or half a lap with me. I’m also thrilled that a colleague from another charity I’m working with announced this week that she is going to join me in running the Thames Meander marathon on November 2nd. Welcome aboard, Sharon! Further, our daughter's singing tutor has offered to put on an operatic concert in the new year to support the fundraising activity.  These are just three of many examples of the support we’ve received on the journey thus far.  

But for now the focus turns to this Sunday and the Windsor Half Marathon. Not for me this one, but Jayne is running her first half marathon ever. I’m so proud of her, for her determination to reach new limits, she’s worked so hard over the last few months building up for this. This will be her running her longest distance ever! She been an amazing support to me during my challenge and I hope to return the favour, in part at least, on Sunday. She deserves it! Four years ago she didn’t own a pair of trainers so it’s been a great journey for her. Six months of building up from 10k to 10miles and now 13.1 miles is a real challenge for her too. The weather looks absolutely dreadful but it will be worth it for the feeling of crossing the line and the new medal around her neck. Whilst she’s not formally registered as running for Sands she will be wearing her Sands running vest and has asked that if anyone wants to support her they can contribute to my marathon challenge page. It would be fantastic to pass on any messages of encouragement you have for her too! 

Jayne helping me towards the finish of the Bournemouth marathon in 2015

I'll update further after Reading on the 19th October.  Thanks again for your great encouragement and for your support of Sands 

M&J 

Marathon 1 of 15: New Forest: The one where it all started

New Forest Marathon, Sunday 8 September 2019

“Wild Horses won’t be able to drag you away from the New Forest…” boasts The New Forest Tourist web page. I’m not sure about wild horses dragging me away, but I’d have gladly had a free ride astride a horse to get me round those last 6 miles. The constant pounding of weary leg on gravel was taking its toll, with both hamstrings and calves cramping up during that final hour or so.

 

A frosty start

The morning starts off with a surprising sight –  there’s frost on the fields as I make my way towards the New Forest Showground. We had been advised to arrive 3 hours before the 9am start and although I wasn’t prepared to get up at Sunday Silly O’clock (I’m a “keen runner” but not that keen) I am on site at 7.15am and ready to go. I’m regretting not wearing a pair of trackies over my shorts; too cold to get out of the car and wander around with the pros I stay in the warmth of the car, loading up my bladder pack with a Raspberry Lucozade / water mix, putting on the ‘strategic nipping plasters’ as I call them, and steadily pinning the red 501 numbered vest to my Sands t-shirt, in a vain attempt to avoid a nasty shock mid-race from an errant safety pin.

Shouldn't this be on a pair of jeans, not a running vest?

Eventually I have to face the cold New Forest air, the sharpest nip has now disappeared and it’s time to head up to the race village. I’m walking solo at this point, having not wanted to subject Jayne and the children to such an early Sunday start nor hours of waiting around, but it seems as though every other runner has company, and I feel strangely alone. Greater still is the regret at having left my sunglasses in the other car overnight, meaning I am having to look away from the low and piercing early morning sun, and the regret at carb-loading so heavily on Saturday that I am a regular visitor to the runners’ portaloos. As I bemoan my plight, the kindness of a stranger lifts my spirits, as I am handed a freebie bag which includes a pair of very garish but very wonderful yellow sunglasses. Not a good look, but a great help and wonder of wonders they fitted over my normal specs, so I will be able to take them on and off during the race itself.

 

Freebie yellow sunnies

The clock is ticking down and the park beginning to fill. The sun is warming us up nicely as I hand my bag over to the wonderful volunteer team at the bag drop-off. There must be 500+ volunteers in total and each of them plays a small but significant part in making such an event run like clockwork.

We are asked to move into the main show area to begin our warm up, so like the bulls at the New Forest Show we are paraded in front of the watching masses (unsurprisingly no-one makes a starting bid for me) and we begin to get ready. My sister and family have arrived to cheer me on and for my brother-in-law’s first 10k which is due off a couple of hours later, and this gives me a real boost as it was the first conversation I’ve had for hours. Similarly I bump into a couple of Netley parkrunners and swiftly afterwards comes news that a further £100 had been donated to the justgiving page in the previous hour which reminds me of what is really important here. 

 

Before....

We are shepherded in groups towards the start line but there is still time for all those self-doubts to come through… can I really run 15 marathons in 15 months? Can I really run this one? Have I done enough training? I have warmed up properly? Is the backpack I am carrying too heavy to run with? Will I get to see the family in the right place? Am I actually mad?  I set up the podcasts I downloaded last night and am ready to run.

The hooter sounds and off we go, it’s great to see Vicki from parkrun waving and then my sister and family again as we set off from the showground towards the route itself. Don’t set off too quick, I had told myself, you’ll regret it later. I was aiming for a 4h30 marathon, so had calculated that if I ran 2h08 for the first half (just less than 10 minute miles), I could run 2h21 (around 11 minute miles) for the second half and thus come in just under 4h30. The best laid plans though…

Soon we are into the forest, in and out of the shade, which became a close friend as the race wears on and the sun gets hotter and hotter. The gravel paths are well compacted to enable walkers, runners, wheelchair users, horses, bikes and all kinds of transportation to move along, but the impact on the feet and thighs soon becomes more noticeable than road running. I decide just to enjoy the first few miles, enjoy the scenery and not put on the podcast or music. I manage to lose myself in the event and before I knew it I have reached the loos at 10k and am a little ahead of schedule.

It is around this point that I saw the sign that reset my focus for the rest of the run. The NFM team had placed plenty of white signs around the forest, with interesting facts and motivational quotes to keep you going (someone described it as the “most educational run in Britain”) – how else would I have known that we were passing the oldest and biggest redwood tree in the country? But it was the sign asking “did you know there are 5,000 New Forest ponies in the forest” that really hits me.

5,000 - that’s the same number of ponies as babies who die in the UK every year before, during or shortly after birth. That’s 15 a day, or one every 90 minutes. That means, through the course of my run, the likelihood is that three babies in the UK will die. That’s three more families with a broken heart, aching arms, an empty cot, hopes and dreams shattered. As I watch a group of ponies trot slowly through the clusters of gorse bushes, I think about the people I know – friends or family members who have been affected by the death of a baby. I remind myself how lucky I am to have my children coming to cheer me on later on this morning; for some runners, clearly this won’t be the case.

And I remind myself why I am running this marathon race -through choice- and think about how so many parents end up taking part in their own lifelong endurance race they never signed up to.

Energised by the kindness of friends cheering me on (thanks to Kev and Suzie at mile 10), providing water, suncream and plenty of encouragement, I press on through a tough 3 miles to the halfway point, back on tarmac through Brockenhurst and up a steady incline, exposed to the sun. Running under the railway bridge as the train to Poole and Weymouth went overhead I did begin to wish I was on a day trip to the seaside but I am on track with the first half complete almost bang on track, in 2h07.  The volunteers in Sway are full of encouragement and the fantastic Guides and Scouts provide water and cheer in equal measure. 

Heading out on the road again and the legs begin the argument with the brain which would last for the final 10 miles, at times the spirit willing but the flesh weak, at times the other way round. It isn’t until mile 17 that we are welcomed into a shady forest enclosure, at last!, at which point I start what is to become a ritual every mile – stop and stretch, take some liquid on board, clap your hands and remind yourself why you’re doing this.

The famous ‘wall’ hits me at mile 20. I have stopped at the picturesque Wilverley enclosure where we had sat last year to cheer on Kath Evans and others, the day which started this adventure as I remember on the day saying “I’d love to run this race, it’s so beautiful”… Certainly this isn’t how I’m feeling a year on!

September a year ago...

As I leave the checkpoint after a quick pitstop I can see a downhill stretch in front of me, but my legs just won’t start again. I manage to restrain myself from shouting at myself and somehow manage to start again, knowing that those 3 or 4 minutes would have a huge impact on whether I would hit my unimportant but important time target, as I know I have been gradually slowing for the last 6 or 7 miles.

Onwards down the hill and some relief, so I thought, but jogging downhill can actually be more painful as the strike of the foot on the tarmac sends a jolt through the leg and has more impact than going uphill – so although I am going marginally quicker it is causing more pain, exacerbated further by the short spell of listening to the cricket during which England lost more wickets… Blisters on the toes were becoming a real issue too. So I whack on a bit of Queen and Don’t Stop Me Now gets me through the next few minutes.

I knew Jayne and the kids were waiting at mile 23 at the bottom of North Weirs; we had been there the previous day so we knew where the rendezvous was and it is both a joy and relief to see Jayne a few hundred yards earlier than planned; she has come up to run with me back to the meeting point, so I had a few extra minutes with her which came just at the right time. The children run up too and supply me with more Lucozade, water and high fives, and I stop for a chat for a moment or two, knowing that a tough mile up North Weirs awaits.

Pass me the Lucozade! 

Thankfully I manage to keep a consistent but slow pace up the gravel to mile 24 and the final water stop, where Kev and Suzie have been waiting. I think I utter something incoherent about my unending love for their friendship and support, and trot on towards mile 24, knowing that a time of 4h30 is still just about there for the taking if I can just keep it steady over the last two miles. Mercifully it is flat though stony and although flagging due to agonising blisters I manage to keep one foot in front of the other and soon the welcome sight of the white tops of the marquees at the showground come into view.

A few encouraging shouts from the marshals and the finish line is in view, and having seen Vicki, my sister and her family again cheering me on I manage to get a little sprint on and am over the line. Nervously checking the Garmin watch I am thrilled to see 4h29m16s on the screen.

 

Over the finish line

As I stumble à la Bambi to the bag collection point I receive notification that I had received further donations whilst running, with some wonderful friends and colleagues kindly donating to the cause. (The target of £2,500 for 15 marathons was a nominal one but we’re already over £500 + Gift Aid, so we’re already a quarter of the way there, and who knows what the next year or so will bring in after 14 more marathons. We cannot thank you enough!)

As the children run up to greet me again I am overwhelmed once more with the thought that I should be grateful for every minute I have with them. After a hug with Jayne I collapse in a heap and tuck into a chocolate bar with the usual post-race conflict in my mind of “don’t ever run that again” and “that was fantastic, when’s the next one?” (it’s October 19^th, in Reading).

 

After...

The medal is an unusual melange of trees and footprints; but it’s the first of 15 and I look forward to comparing it with the next few.

New bling! 

As we reunite with friends and family I take off my sock to reveal the extent of the damage – and what seems to be a sixth toe appears between my big toe and second toe – an enormous blood blister has sprouted and needs attention from the medical team at the other end of the showground.  They are as helpful as expected and soon patch me up so I can go and enjoy the picnic.

Sadly an accident in Lyndhurst means that we are advised to stay on site for another couple of hours with the roads gridlocked, but this enables us to have more time to enjoy - rather than endure - the sunshine and a number of excellent local bands. Unfortunately, the bar has run out of most items so a celebratory drink will have to wait until the evening.

Kev offers to drive my car home which is a godsend as the legs are struggling to coherently communicate with each other to walk, let alone drive. We chat about plans for running next year and before long we’ve reached home where a cold beer and a pork batch awaits (you can take the boy out of Coventry, but…) . It feels particularly good having fasted alcohol for a week in the build up to marathon number 1.

A cold Golden Champion (Badger Beer) to end the day! 

It’s been an exhausting but exhilarating day and I can’t wait for Marathon 2 – the “Saturn X Run” in Reading on October 19^th. It’s going to be a strange few weeks, working out how to recover from one marathon and start building up then immediately tapering for the next, so that will be something new to work out. When I’ve run marathons before (3 in total, over the course of 6 years), I’ve had plenty of time to work out what to do next! But after the X Run I’ve got only a fortnight until the Thames Meander (starting in Kingston), so goodness knows what that short training programme will look like.

In terms of timing, I’ve set a good baseline of 4h29 and hope to start bringing that time down towards the 4h03 in Southampton from a few years ago. But it’s not the main goal; I know that through my efforts not only have we raised money for Sands to help fund research, care and support for bereaved families, but have raised significant awareness about the impact of baby loss through friends, family, former colleagues and through social media.

After I explained the significance of the number 15 to a family member he quipped ‘hopefully if you do this again in a few years you’ll only need to do 10 or 12’. I sincerely hope so too. In fact, if we’re to reach the government’s target of halving baby deaths by 2025, I’ll only need to do 7.5 in 7.5.

In the meantime, we keep on running…

Thanks for all your support