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The start of the race was delayed by 80 minutes due to mist and we stood around in transition awaiting the start. I kept myself loose and sipped on Gatorade endurance mix while waiting, but the nerves were definitely building during that time. When we got led down at 7am, I was okay and once I was in the water I found a nice position in the middle and to the side - unfortunately it seemed to be the place where most people wanted to be and I ended up around the middle in the middle.
When the horn blew, I got into a steady stride quite quick, despite being beaten (as you do in mass starts) and knew that if I didn't keep my arms moving I would probably drown.
I got out of the water in 38:43, having made sure to concentrate on a good stroke. I walked up transition due to a numb feeling down my whole body, but managed to get my wetsuit down.
Transition was "slow" - 9:51, but I think only about 5 minutes of that was in the tent.
Once on the bike, my legs still felt numb, and there was a bunch of people around me for the first few miles - but my cycling legs didn't want to come out. I took some salt caps & water & Gatorade and it felt okay, despite still feeling like my legs didn't want to work. I didn't know quite what to do in the no passing zone down that steep descent as one guy (3 places ahead of me), was moving along at about 12 mph down there. I guess he was just afraid or might not have seen the course before or something.
After the descent I started feeling more like myself.
Up the first of the 2 steep hills, I felt my left foot come off the pedal - I tried to clip back in, but alas, it was not happening.
I had to stop and when I checked, it turned out that the clip on my left foot had broken at the back and was going to be of no use when pulling. At least I could still push - after that I tried on just about every steep hill, but my right leg took the most effort and I ended up walking in any case.
To be honest, my legs still felt quite tired and I'm not sure whether I would've have just walked up those hills on the second lap in any case, but it almost broke my spirit. I was going to finish though and I kept going.
By the time the bike finished, I had issues with groin muscles and my lower back was seizing up.
04:18:26
T2 : 0:04:32 - A volunteer kindly volunteered to help and threw everything in my transition bag onto the ground - a little bit shocked, but I managed to get everything I didn't need/want back in the bag and was on my way.
02:49:35 for a finishing time of 08:01:06
The run was painful to say the least. From the word go. I couldn't lift my legs - my groin muscles hurt really badly. My lower back hurt every step that I landed on hills and downhills and I ended up walking a lot - I ran all the downhills and flats, but hills hurt too much. Not any good when the goal is to not walk. Halfway through the second lap the urge to stop was big. I kept going and when I started on the third lap I knew that I had more than 2 hours to finish - I could easily walk 4.5 miles in that, but I kept going at the run/walk that I had going. I even tried running up some of the hills, but ended up in tears halfway up 2 of the hills.
When I got close to the finish line I started to prepare that smile for the camera and as I crossed the line I know I had a smile on my face, but it was probably more due to relief than anything else. A volunteer that I had spoken to quite a bit over the course of the weekend was there and she gave me a hug which just made me burst into tears. Andy (husband) was also there and gave me a huge hug, but I probably didn't stop crying for a good half an hour. Another volunteer was so kind as to pour a bucket of water over my head (he saw me pouring my drinking water over my head and offered....) and then a photographer took a fair few pictures before I headed to the competitor's area for a donut and sausage roll. I also got a post-race massage on my legs and lower back.
All in all I'm glad I finished, even if I was in more pain than I think I've ever been.
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Ouch. My leg hurts like hell.
I fell … hard … at speed… and it REALLY REALLY REALLY hurt. Not sure exactly what happened, but I fell like a ton of bricks around a bend. And I was enjoying the ride so much as well!
On Saturday morning myself and peg-leg made our way to Nottingham station to catch our train to London. I wasn’t prepared to drive down and risk getting stuck in traffic, getting agitated and generally hating the experience. We got to Kings Cross station at around 11am and already I was slightly confused about how we were going to get to the expo. We spotted someone that looked like a runner (he was wearing a NY marathon shirt and had several silver blankets around his pack… and a sign saying Runner’s World Support Group!) and just about glued ourselves to the poor man. It got us to the expo though :)
Once there, we said goodbye and I picked up my race number, had my chip activated and walked around the expo for a little while. The atmosphere was absolutely amazing.
Of course I couldn’t stay there all day – we headed to the hotel and after checking in, took a nap, got some supper and then it was time to get a lot of good sleep.
Sunday morning I woke up at 6am and got up with relative ease, took a shower, put on some jeans and a shirt and headed to the dining room. The hotel was great – they had prepared oats, a range of organic seeds/fruits/other things and then the usual breakfast. I had some porridge, a few slices of bacon and then headed back up to the room to get my race gear on. I put on my shirt, shorts and packed something to wear after the race, although right now, it escapes me why. I mixed some energy drink, poured it into my bottle and packed gels and all the other things that were necessary.
It was time to get to Charring Cross to catch my train to Blackheath. The train was absolutely packed with runners (as you’d expect) and everyone was talking about their goals and training and I was just listening to it all and having a great time. 20 minutes later we were at Blackheath and amid a crowd of runners I made my way to the blue start.
The start was crowded with a lot of fairies, Elvis, the queen and a lot of other people you may or may not recognize, lining up alongside us. I was in camp 6 and the people in there was in a great mood – it was already getting hot and generally we were all feeling like it was going to be a great day.
I didn’t hear the start, but I knew it happened, because the crowd suddenly started to move forward. As I crossed the line I noticed that a good 9 minutes had already passed.
I started off a little fast. Far too fast really. The first mile went by in less than 10 minutes, but I forced myself to slow down and settle into a comfortable pace well before we crossed that line. At times I was forced by the runners around me to slow down as the lanes narrowed and widened and narrowed and widened. I was now moving at a nice pace and still soaking up the positive feelings and jovial happiness around me. I realised very well that this might be my one and only London marathon and I was absolutely determined to enjoy every single minute of it.
At mile 2 a guy behind me started singing and just about everyone around me joined in. I didn’t – I couldn’t – I didn’t know the words! But I still liked it. I was thinking of how many people missed this because they had music in their ears. Of the iPod kind. Or any other MP3 player that you may choose.
Shortly before mile 3 we saw the red runners (they weren’t sunburnt, they just had red numbers!) join us from the left. I guess they had run a little less than us at that point – there were still barriers between us and their 5K mat was about 100m short of ours. But at the bottom of that hill, we found a roundabout and after going around it, we were free to mingle and we did! Of course this meant that after spreading out over the prior 3 miles, we were now in a bunch again and the slowing down and speeding up trend continued. Especially when we spotted a rhino and had to run to pat it and pass it. By this point I was already feeling a little hot, but I was still enjoying it and felt quite good!
Mile 4 - 10 passed before I knew it and the only thing I knew was that I had seen a lot of South African flags while running. Just after the 10 mile marker I spotted someone that I used to go to university with. I didn’t stop to say hi, making a mental note to send him and email to ask whether it was him. I couldn’t deal with stopping and having to chat, eyeing some of that lovely meat they had on the fire and then having to leave again!
As we got to Tower Bridge just before mile 13, I was still in good shape. My legs were feeling great, my body was feeling good, I still had enough energy for another 13 miles at the same pace and I was definitely ready for the last 13. The crowds got a lot bigger at this point. And more lively. A lot more lively. They lifted our spirits and made me forget the heat for just a little while. The heat increased with every mile and by the time I reached mile 20 I was incredibly hot, felt the sunburn and could probably have done with a dip in a pool and lot of ice.
At mile 21 I still felt good. I was hobbling along at a steady pace and it looked like the end was in sight – even it if was still 5 miles away. 200 yards later I suddenly saw stars everywhere. I instantly found myself on the ground and a few moments later I was surrounded my a few men in uniform. The paramedics where very nice. I sat up and assured them I was okay. Okay, so you’re not supposed to see stars. But they were very very nice and one or two of them insisted that I don’t carry on. That I pack in, get on the side, get in a chair, get off the course and give up for the day. They advised me to stop.
I was stubborn. I was going to finish. Even if it meant walking.
So that’s what I did. For the next 4.5 miles I walked. And I walked. And when I tried to run, my cooled down muscles hobbled and protested until I gave up and walked some more.
With half a mile to go and the finish in sight, I decided that I was going to have to run over the line, my arms held high. I managed to get going, even if it was painfully slow. I listened to the crowds cheer the runners on. I loved it. I wanted to burst into tears because I was so happy to be there, but I couldn’t. Not just yet.
We made the final turn in front of Buckingham Palace and now I could actually SEE the end. I found the line in the middle of the road as I eyed going through the centre of the finish. 50 yards before the line I threw my arms into the air and just after I crossed I finally burst into tears.
I was finished.
I managed to finish.
I walked over the bridge to have my chip removed. More tears. My medal was hung around my neck I and I cried some more. At least most people seemed to realised that these were tears of happiness.
I went for my finisher’s photo, tears streaming down my face and then walked to collect my goodie bag, which was a lot heavier than I thought it would be.
I walked to collect my kit bag (which turned out to be very close to the end of the park). It seemed a lot heavier than I remembered.
As I walked through the family reunion area, I decided that since my hotel was less than a mile away, I was just going to go there to get my shower. It turns out that when you’re between 100,000 other people even crossing a park is quite hard. To get to my hotel I had to queue to get over a footbridge, which I didn’t mind as I got to speak to some other finishers who were all complaining about the heat they had to endure.
After a shower, pizza and a glass of wine, I was in bed, still clutching that medal.
I do believe this was the marathon finish that I’ll treasure most.
]]>This weekend is the London marathon and I’m looking forward to it. I’m healthy. I’m looking forward to it.
You can follow me by going to the link up above and adding me to your favourites, booking marking the page and checking up regularly. For those on the course – I’ll wave and smile :)
That’s all I have to say right now.
]]>5:00am – The alarm goes off. My mind wakes up, but instantly rebels against the early morning. outside the sun is already rising, solidifying my belief that early morning sessions are going to work for me.
5:15am – Peg-leg wobbles into the room with a mug of tea in one hand and a bowl of porridge in the other. The air in the house is cold. Very cold. But the sky is making such pretty colours outside! I gobble down my breakfast.
5:30am – I finally get up and search out some suitable clothes for the trainer. I can’t find my Garmin because I left it in the car. I take out my water bottle from the fridge and place it on a chair next to my bike.
5:45am – I find my Garmin. I put on my HR strap. I consider making some coffee, but decide against it and get on the bike. I start pedalling. 1 minute later I realise that I never cleared it before starting. I stop the watch, I struggle with resetting it. I get off the bike and put What it Takes into the DVD player.
5:55am – I finally start my cycling session. Go intervals!
7:15am – All my clothes are now soaked in sweat. Yummy! I realise that I haven’t heard Peg-leg move since I left him upstairs. I make a quick stop in the bedroom to remind him that he wanted to leave at 7:30am and that I was heading out the door for 15 minutes.
7:17am – I’m out the door and with legs that feel like they’re dragging bags of lead, start my 15 minute run. There’s a girl walking to the bus stop that looks at me as if I’m crazy. She puts her iPod back into her ears and I wish I had brought mine along. The sun is shining brightly as I head into the mini-reserve and loop around to run back home.
7:32am – 15 minute run complete! I walk home the last 200m and stretch before heading upstairs. Peg-leg says goodbye and heads to work. My clothes are even more soaked and will probably be able to provide salt to a small country if dried out.
8:45am – I head to work myself. I place a bet on me losing my focus and wanting a nap by 3pm.
This early morning thing could work out if I manage to get out of bed tomorrow morning. At least the sun comes up early now and that gives me energy! (I love sun! Even if I tend to get a bit sunburnt!) Another plus is that I’ll be able to get to bed earlier (9pm workouts are not recommended) – which might improve my mood later in the week :)
Good luck to everyone doing Boston – I’ll be watching!
]]>Most people know that swimming has given me a lot to write / talk about over the years and generally it is because of the comical situations that arise in the pool. We have Mr Cologne, Mr Flipper Man, Mrs Dry Hair and a few others that I can’t really recall because I may or may not have seen them lately. Three constants remain and in general, I’m pretty happy and content with the way things are.
Then you have one of those kick-in-the-jaw clarifying moments and realise that another character that has yet to be named has joined the lane and he needs an introduction.
This morning I got myself to the pool in good time and it looked like I wasn’t going to struggle to finish the session for once. The first set of my session I felt heavy, I felt slow, I felt like the water had a current even if we were only in a 25m pool, and that current was moving against me all of the time.
Mr Flipper Man arrived early today, as did Mr Cologne (who has taken to talking to me lately. But if he calls me duck one more time I might be tempted to quack at him). Mr Flipper Man was in a mood and didn’t even greet anyone as he got in and set about getting his workout done.
Over in the fast lane I noticed the regulars doing their thing, while in our lane we had a few people that I rarely notice, but didn’t particularly care.
There was one man though. Just one man. He was swimming breaststroke and with his insanely long legs, his kicks seemed to reach over both lanes that were assigned to our group. Passing him was always going to be a problem. A problem, but not an impossible one.
It took a few laps before this particular problem arose for me.
I was hitting the last few repeats in my second set when I had to overtake him. I moved to the left. Thankfully he didn’t. The overtaking seemed like it was going to go smoothly as I managed to get next to his feet without any incident or scratches or broken arms or fingers or any such thing.
Then I took a breath to my right and saw stars and tasted blood and felt like someone had just sucker-punched me right in the jaw. I kept swimming, glad that the water would probably enter my goggles and hide the tears in my eyes. As I got to the end and therefore a rest stop, he pulled up and also stopped.
“Are you trying to bite me?" he asked, a slight smile on his face.
I’m sure he thought it was a tad of a joke, but my lips begged to differ. He pointed at his foot and I noticed the scratch that my unfortunate teeth must’ve left.
I nodded, smiled, started swimming again, afraid that if I rested any longer I’d have to contend with that mean left kick again.
Afterwards he asked whether I was okay before heading into the showers and I found that my lip was not as big as it felt. Instead it looked pretty normal, except when you look on the inside and noticed a teeny-tiny cut on my lower lip.
Not sure what I’m going to name him, but I guess that depends on whether I’ll run into him again!
]]>I got to the pool at 7:45am. And although this wouldn’t pose a huge problem, it did mean that one of the sets I had to do was going to bite the water and fly off to a land of never-happened-never-will.
The first surprise when I got there was the complete lack of other people in the pool. Normally there is a crowd of at least 8 people in just the lane I’m swimming in. This morning, there were 3. And one of them doesn’t really count because all he does is get in the pool, let the 2 bottles of cologne that he put on before he came to the gym wash off him, and then get out.
So there were 2.
As I finished up the warm-up, the girl swimming in the last lane (she was completely alone, but I didn’t think it would be fair to get into that lane at the time I got in), got out and so I moved to the lane she occupied and started my swimming session.
My arms joined the rest of my body in rebellion and felt like 20kg of lead had been strapped to each of them. It felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere and like each 25m was taking me at least a minute (okay, so it didn’t take that long, but it sure felt like it!).
Around the 10th length I glanced back to the lane next to me. Mr Flipper-Man had arrived while I hadn’t noticed and he was swimming right next to me! He gave me the much-needed motivation to get going and I attempted to get into a better groove. Mr Flipper-Man must have sensed that I was doing this and sped up. I went with him. He sped up some more, I chased. We reached the end of the lane and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn we were doing synchronised swimming. We both flipped and repeated the previous length’s pattern. After 200m I had to stop and he carried on for another 50m.
I started about 50m before him on the next 200m. Once again we tried to match each other up and down the lanes.
As 8:45am arrived I knew that if I didn’t do some form of cool-down, I was going to regret it. I barely did 400m as the lifeguard started to blow that dreaded alarm that tears through every inch of your being until you want to cry out for mercy and rushed to get to work.
I’m still not sure when everyone else got out of the pool. All I know is that when I got out of the pool it was just Mr Flipper-Man that was still in the pool with me.
And right now, my shoulders are killing me.
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What can I say – I’m lazy?
Then I ran Silverstone last weekend and for some reason I told someone that I was doing Ashby on the 22nd. And then I told someone else and before I knew it, enough people knew to warrant me getting up and going.
On Friday I was scared. What if I couldn’t finish?
Saturday I loaded up on carbs with pasta, pizza, chips – anything really. If I was going to run, I was going to need fuel. Regardless of how far I ran. Worst case – I run 5 miles and end up 5 miles from the start and I was NOT getting into a sweeper vehicle.
I don’t have anything against sweeper vehicles, I just don’t want to get into one.
So Sunday morning arrives. I wake up at 7:30am. But somewhere in my mind I don’t realise that I’m already late. I figure I have to leave by 8:15am at the latest to get to the start without rushing. I have oats, I have eggs, I have coffee. I shower and get everything together (shouldn’t I have done that last night?!?!). I get in my car and notice that now it is 8:50am.
The race start is at 10:00am.
I figure I have enough time to arrive, hand in my bag and get to the start.
At 9:30am I arrive at Hood Park Leisure Centre and take my sweet time walking to race HQ. After standing in line to get into the bathroom, I stuff everything I don’t need into the bag and head over to hand it in, only to realise 5 minutes later that I’m still wearing my t-shirt. I head back and just give the girl behind the desk my shirt and with a ‘stuff it into number 23’, I start my way to the start, which according to the race booklet, is 15 minutes walk away.
As we approach the start, one of the marshals come alone to rush us.
“The race is starting!!” he yells, as if that would rush everyone in. I take a small jog and go to the back of the pack.
Unfortunately, that isn’t the race start… noooooo, we have to walk about a quarter of a mile to the real start. A very nice woman, called Mary stood next to me and told a few jokes before the start, told me how this was her first 20 miler and that she was doing London as well at the end of April.
Somewhere in my mind I tell myself that I have to run 12 minute miles – its only training after all. 12 minutes will give me some chance to just relax and it results in a 4 hour 20 miler. Which means that its still faster than I was at any point during last year.
The race starts – and immediately I fall into the trap of running FAR TOO DARN FAST! I check my pace and its around the 9:30min/mile mark. I tried to slow down, feeling quite worried about what was to come.
The first mile went by in less than 10 minutes. Thankfully after that some sense seemed to kick in and I slowed down, to around 11 min/mile while not trying to catch anyone else and trying to just run my own pace. Every now and again I would take a sip of water or Gatorade and mix it up with some honey.
The fuelling seemed to work rather well for once.
At 7 miles, I suddenly felt a really sharp pain in my left knee. Running was impossible. Walking felt okay, but wasn’t particularly what I had in mind for the day.
I’m going to stop, take off my number and walk back to the finish, even though I haven’t run the 2nd loop. Today is DNF day.
My mindset was obviously not right. I didn’t feel like walk-running. I didn’t feel like walking. I couldn’t run. I told one of the women that ran alongside me that I was going to stop at the next point and wished her good luck for the rest of the race.
The next point came. I saw someone I knew. I started wobbling. Which turned into a bit of hobbling. Which turned into a slow plod. Which turned into me jogging past them, waving, having a bite of chocolate and then I kept on jogging until I caught up with the people I ran with before and passing them. Which in turn turned into me going past the turn-off point and carrying on with the second loop.
It was like I got a second wind. I kept going and going and going… until 15.7 miles had passed and I could still go. Then the knee decided to play up again. I wobbled my way to next to a man that was walking as well and slowed down to a walk with him.
Chatting to fellow runners are always interesting and he’s training for IM Germany! At mile 16.8 we started plodding away again… there was a huge downhill and I could go for AGES! I plodded my way past mile 18, got to the watering point and made the turn up the hill – everything was pointing towards home now.
My quads, hamstrings, calves were shattered. Hills weren’t happening. I walked. All the way from mile 18 to 19. And then another quarter of a mile after that.
Somewhere I realised that the end was in sight and I started jogging again. A kind marshal pointed me down a hill and told me to just watch out for the potholes. I let my legs go and managed to just go down the hill without resistance. When a board proclaimed that there was only 400m left, I just about cried. With 200m to go, I just wanted to get to the finish line.
I finished, walked about 10 meters and then headed into the first aid tent. Suddenly I wasn’t feeling well at all. One of the people in there brought me an Ashby 20 2009 top to put on to keep warm.
It took about 10 more minutes before I felt okay enough to get up, collect my goody bag and head back to race HQ. I collected my bag, took off my shoes and after a quick hi to a facebook/twitter friend, I had to get home.
What puzzles me today though, is that I’m not feeling stiff or sore AT ALL. I’m in perfect working order. I can walk up and down stairs. Sideways, forwards and backwards. I can walk. I can get off a chair without groaning. I can sit down without falling backwards.
I’m uncomfortable with the fact that I’m perfectly comfortable.
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Going on holiday is always a good idea – even more so when there are family that live miles away from you and you only get so many days a year to spend some quality time with them and see them.
I got to see the farm – it was so much fun – the house looks fabulous now that they’re fixing it up.
About 2 miles into the run, my foot started getting that prickly needles feeling in it. I figured that my shoe might be a tad tight, so I loosened the laces a bit. I started running again. The needles stayed with me. In fact, it started creeping up my right leg… all the way to my hip. Within the space of 0.3 miles, it had taken over my whole right leg. At this point I started worrying about my leg being dead and maybe causing one of those YouTube moments where it’d just give in and I’d be sent flying off the back of the treadmill into the glass table a few feet behind the mill. But it was steady as ever… except I couldn’t really feel anything but the needles.
As 3 miles came around, I stopped the treadmill and the moment I stepped off it, my leg gave in, thankfully I wasn’t sent flying anywhere, but instead sat in a little heap next to the machine, wanting to laugh and cry and stretch, but unable to control my right leg. It was completely numb.
So I stretched 15 minutes … at which point some form of life and control returned.
Anyone ever have a similar experience?
]]>It is rare for myself and peg-leg to expand our social circle. In the time that I’ve been in the UK, we’ve maybe visited 2 friends’ house parties. On Saturday evening we went to a house party given by someone we haven’t even known for that long and it was great to get out and about.
I met another semi-South African. Who turned out to be a tad troubled and tried to drink it away with clean Malibu and then clean Vodka and who knows what else after we left. It was good to see him relax after he seemed stressed at the beginning of the evening, but a little worrying that he chose the route he did to forget.
Yesterday I woke up and felt like a new world had opened up. I got up, relaxed, cleaned a little and then went to see My Bloody Valentine in 3D. That was fun. It wasn’t all that scary, had a good twist, and although I occasionally cringed, bored the living daylight out of me. If it wasn’t for the 3D glasses, I probably would’ve walked out halfway through the movie.
So now we’re faced with a new week and all things that come along with it.
This should be good.
]]>The BMF session last night was a lot easier than the session we did on Saturday (not sure if it was because of the instructor or the fact that it wasn’t Saturday). My arms didn’t quite want to do the work required, but it wasn’t too bad. My abs still don’t engage this morning, but that’s also good. They’re still trying to recover from the exercises that’s been thrown at them from all different angles. Pity I’ll miss Wednesday’s session.
This morning I got up and although I didn’t do any exercise, I didn’t feel as tired as I have been feeling the past few weeks. I think it might be because the iron supplements are finally kicking in.
]]>It is so much fun that I’ve signed up to unlimited sessions, but I’ll probably limit it to 3 sessions a week. I cannot wait for tomorrow night, although I can imagine that it will be quite painful. Especially if my arms are still in this state :)
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