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 !!