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.  

Marathon 12/15 - Southampton: The one with the pace car and the deluge

If I thought marathon 11 was wet, it was nothing in comparison to marathon 12.

A biblical deluge was meant to have blown through by the time I started on the morning of Saturday 14th November - however it was here to stay and I found myself considering whether to abandon the run before it had even started. However, having had some kind offers of running company and water stations along the way I felt compelled to get to the start line. 

Lockdown meant that the Exe Valley marathon was cancelled and instead I was creating another local route to run. It also meant running solo or with a maximum of one run partner. So I set off at 8am on my own and even by the end of the road was pretty soggy and lamenting the coronavirus once more. 

A couple of miles in, some familiar figures appeared as I headed out of the villages towards the countryside, our friends had come out in the pouring rain to wave me on and I already needed it by then as the constant downpour was pretty depressing. Big thanks to Chris, Lindsey and Emma for waving me on! Within half a mile I was cursing White Van Man who took a disproportionate amount of pleasure in driving through an enormous puddle to soak me to the skin. So there I was at mile 2.5 already looking like a drowned rat and feeling miserable! But it’s at this point that I thought I would just stick a metaphorical two fingers up at the weather and fight back, to run with determination and a ‘who cares’ attitude, I was in this deep, I might as well carry on. 

The pace picked up a little as I arrived in Hedge End, to rendezvous with my brother-in-law Pete at 5 miles. I was just below 45 minutes so sticking well to my target pace of 9 minute miles. He was on a 20 mile run of his own and would be joining me for about 10k. We ran at a good pace up the steady incline past Hampshire Cricket Ground and towards Southampton, only chatting a little through our clenched teeth. What a stark contrast to the glorious sunshine of the New Forest Marathon just a few weeks ago that we had shared in Marathon 10. 

Onwards towards the city, stopping briefly at mile 7 for some water kindly provided by our friend Julie, who had stayed out in the rain to see us and provide some much needed encouragement. We dropped down into Riverside Park, where the River Itchen had risen so much in 48 hours it was over the pavement in some places and coming through the trainers. The wind was blowing in off the coast too and it really wasn’t much fun I must admit, but we pressed on towards Bitterne, getting some strange looks from dog walkers along the way, but a few friendly waves from similarly nutty runners out for a Saturday run. 

arriving at Mark and Julie's house for a water stop at mile 7 

Over the Northam Bridge past the old ITV studios we continued and down to Southampton FC where we found Kev and Suzie waiting in their car for us. We were at 11 miles and doing well, still on track at less than 9 minute miles, with clothes so soaked to the skin they were essentially one and the same thing. 

At St Marys where a message from SFC welcomes us - "WE NEVER STOP"

Suzie shouted her usual fantastic encouragement and threw me a drink, Pete ran off as part of his big loop, so Kev joined me as we headed towards the City Centre. Up through Southampton Common where the UK’s second biggest parkrun usually meets on a Saturday with over a thousand runners and walkers. We saw a few of them out and about this Saturday despite the rain and it was good to get some smiles and waves as we ploughed on through the puddles. 

Out the other side of the Common and we stopped at our friends’ house for a drink. Phil and Christine are amazing encouragers from our church, always with a smile and a kind word for ‘you young ones’, as he often calls us. They’ve been on their own fitness journey over the past couple of years and have joined us at various parkruns, and they’re a great example to us. Christine is a retired NHS nurse and is always interested in the work of Sands and they are very fond of our lively children. Of course we can’t actually go to their house as we’re in lockdown but there they are, waiting in their garage, with two bottles of water for us 2 metres away! It’s a welcome sight and great to have their verbal encouragement as we set out again. 

Down Burgess Road and through the University campus, another White Van Man amuses himself by driving hard through a lake but by this time it’s all immaterial anyway as another few litres of puddle water aren’t going to make any difference. Along Stoneham Lane and we receive a friendly wave from our friend Allan outside his house, and back into the countryside linking Southampton with Eastleigh. Surprisingly this section is flying by, and before we know it we are at mile 17 at the agreed rendezvous with Suzie who takes over running company duties from Kev. Suzie reveals that we’ve received lots of donations already this morning, as people have responded well to the challenge and probably are feeling sorry for me as we swim our way towards the end of Marathon 12. 

drenched to the skin

We almost drown in Lakeside Park, the water coming over the top of our trainers as we wade through an enormous stretch of footpath probably a foot under water, and turn for the town centre. The legs are beginning to get a bit sore by this point but aren’t too bad, all things considered, but I’m worried about blisters on the feet forming later on. We get a cheer and a bottle of water left out on the wall by our close friends Hannah and Gavin as we arrive in Eastleigh at mile 19. These guys, along with Kev and Suzie have been our weekly Friday night Gin Club co-members throughout 2020, an essential weekly catch during such a difficult year. Starting during lockdown in March and carrying on throughout the year, it’s been an oasis of calm during the chaos and has really helped us to anchor another week as it transitions into the weekend.

Water stop at Gav & Hannah's with Suzie

We head up towards Chandlers Ford, by which point I’m hardly talking at all, just focusing on breathing well and sticking to pace, and we reach mile 20 in less than 3 hours, so another sub-4 hour marathon is still on the cards, surprisingly. There are a couple of hills to overcome yet, so I know it’s not over just yet. I am beginning to fade a bit and want to stop but pass a secondary school whose herald is ‘steadfast’ and whose motto is ‘personal best’… I smile wryly and remind myself that if I can keep going I will indeed complete an unexpected Personal Best of my own, so it’s just the inspiration I need.

Inspiring school motto 

We arrive at Suzie and Kev’s house where Jayne is waiting in the car, it’s mile 22 and she’s brought a bag of spare clothes for me, but to be honest I just grab a few glugs of Lucozade Sport and keep going, there’s no point stopping now as it may be counter-productive. We head through the alleys and under the motorway, knowing that there are less than 4 miles to go. Jayne tells me we’ve had the most amazing support and have topped the £4,000 mark, which stood at £3,500 only last night. People seem to have been captured by the photos on social media of our efforts in the rain, thank you if you are one of them! 

We turn into Boyatt Wood I’m flagging now, despite the good news It’s mile 23 as the pouring rain continues to pound down on us, filling up trainers and weighing down clothes. As we come out of a side road we are suddenly made to jump by the beeping of a car horn. On approaching the main road where the car is positioned I hear the shouts of children’s encouragement and see a number of hand-made banners in the windows as the car starts to set off alongside us. The hazard lights go on and then the familiar voice of our good friends Charlie and Sean can be heard from the front windows, cheering us on, encouraging us to keep going, reminding us of how far we had come and not to give up. 

The car stays with us for about a half mile and just those few minutes give me the boost I needed to dig in for the final 5k. We turn onto the pavement of the main road which would lead us back home, whilst the car heads back toward its own home, its work done. I can’t thank them enough.

One of the banners really struck me- “pace car”. Charlie and Sean and their children had spent time creating banners to help encourage me on my marathon journey, to help keep my pace up. They invested their paper, their pens, their voices and their time, just to encourage me onward. How awesome is that? They helped me to keep pace when I was flagging and I needed it most. They were my pace car - my encouragement, clearing other cars out of the way - effectively saying “runner coming through”.  I must admit that for just a few moments I felt like Sir Mo Farah.

The amazing pace car - LEGEND - YOU CAN DO IT! - what an amazing sight 

 

They’ve been amazing supporters on the marathon challenge over the past year. I’ve mentioned before that their daughter Tilly died in 2012 just before we got to know them. I often think of them and families like them on my marathons, reminding myself during the dark miles why I’m doing the challenge in the first place. We long to see a world where fewer babies die every day (currently around 14 a day in the UK), and where the care and support provided for families when a baby does die is high quality, empathetic and compassionate. 

Their support gets me thinking, who can I encourage this week on this endless marathon journey we’re all enduring? Who can I cheer on? Whose pace can I help to set? Who can I invest my resources and time in, to keep them going, even for a short while? I encourage you to jump in that pace car – actual or metaphorical – and put the hazard lights on; it will make all the difference to your friend.

We’re on the home straight now, down Twyford Road towards the railway station. Jayne gets out her phone to read me all the lovely messages people have sent via facebook and text, which help to keep me going until the end. One more effort up the steep incline and over the railway bridge. Just a mile and a half to go now. The familiar streets where I’ve done so many training runs come into view as we head back towards home. Although the legs have felt like lead for the last couple of miles, they manage to keep pounding the pavement, most likely through muscle memory and sheer repetition. 

We head up Fair Oak Road and see our kids who have gathered together with the Sands flag to welcome us back over the imaginary finish line. It’s great to see them and they’ve brought some Lucozade and a towel with them which are just what I need. 

Team H welcoming Dad home 

We plod back up the hill to the house where a warm bath and a beer await. The clock says I finished in 3h57m29s, taking a further 2 minutes off a personal best, talk about unexpected! I’m chuffed with that, given the extreme weather, and it’s a good reminder that a positive mindset and determined attitude can help you to overcome all the knockbacks life can throw at you. 

Team Sands 

By the end of the weekend the challenge total is closing in on £4,400. We set out with a target of £2,500, but here we are with three marathons to go and an amazing £5,000 is in sight. Again huge thanks to everyone who has supported us with running, shouting, water providing, donating, texting, encouraging. You’re all amazing and I, and all the Sands families, are so, so grateful. 

Onwards then to marathons 13, 14 and 15 which, given the cancellations of various races due to current restrictions, will take place on consecutive weekends in December. 

These will be:

• 13/15 Firstly the Goodwood Marathon, 11 and a bit laps of the GP track in Sussex on Sunday 6th December. This could be a mental challenge, with no supporters allowed on the day. 

• 14/15 Then Saturday 12th December will see me running ‘the story of my life’, from my birthplace at Winchester hospital to our current home via my childhood schools and colleges. 

• 15/15 Finally on Saturday 19th December I’ll be running the virtual Portsmouth Coastal Marathon, running from Queen Alexandra Hospital in Portsmouth to Princess Anne (Maternity) Hospital at Southampton General. 

A number of friends and colleagues have expressed an interest in joining me on one or more of these last two marathons, so please get in touch if you’d like further details.