A tale of sacrificial buffs and over reliance on technology.

 I had a score to settle with this race.  Last year I had an awful time and had sworn that I would never enter it again.  That resolve lasted all of about 5 minutes as a friend threatened to snag my number if I didn't do it!  I wanted to run this year's event for fun.  At Paris in April  I had put myself under enormous pressure to run a sub 4 marathon, which for various reasons did not happen.  I was despondent and very self critical for a while.  Yesterday I decided that I was just going to go out and run - I gave myself permission to walk from the cones on 'Tourette's Hill' to the fence at the top if I wanted to.  I did not print a pace band as I did not want to feel I had a target to meet.

It was cold and raining when we arrived at the Cyclopark.  When I'd packed my bag I had relied on the BBC Weather forecast so had no rain jacket, thankfully I'd thrown a cap in at the very last minute, so it was sunglasses off and cap on.  I set off with the friend I ran with last year.  We chatted and ran, ran and chatted and, for me, the time was passing very pleasantly.  Not so for her unfortunately.  It turned out to be a reversal of last year - we parted company at about 11 miles again, having averaged around 8.50 min/miles, I left my friend by the personal drink station table we had set up and ran on alone.  It had stopped raining just before the start of the race and had become warm and humid but still overcast.  On one of the slight inclines of the lapped course there was a slight breeze which was lovely, after that it was a downhill towards two of the most amazing marshals ever - Neil and Les - I asked them to keep a look out for my friend and next time round was reassured that she was doing OK.  After this, on 20 consecutive laps, came Tourette's Hill.  Let me assure you, it is wisely named!  The stretch up to the finish area is slightly uphill - but enlivened by two aid stations, loads of supporters, including the most energetic, loud, curly haired girl on the bridge who was cheering and shouting out names as we passed below.

I was feeling good, I'd settled into a steady 9min/mile pace (according to my watch) that I was more than happy with and just settled down to keep on until the end.  In my mind I knew that 9 min/mile pace would give me just sub 4hrs, just enough sub 4hrs to allow, I hoped, for Garmin's notorious inaccuracy on lapped courses.  I slowed down a few times to check that other runners were OK - a friend from Basingstoke parkrun had lapped me a couple of times, so I was shocked when I lapped him.  We had a brief chat then, and I seem to recall that, later on, I walked backwards up a hill while asking him if he was ok!  I slowed again to help a lady who felt sick.  I say 'help,' what I actually did was stop, ask if she was OK, ask if she would like some water, gave her my water bottle and then ran on.  Half a lap later I remembered that it was my favourite water bottle and I had no idea who she was!

At some point the heaven't opened and we got a proper drenching!  I felt sorry for the supporters then as standing around in the rain is far more miserable than running in it.  I don't think it lasted longand after the rain we had bright, hot sunshine and a lot less humidity!  This is where having a personal drinks station was great - it meant I could change from cap to sunnies and back again without deviating from the route.  I was running and chatting and smiling and running - having a great time.  My right quad, which had been tight all week, was still tight, but that was more than countered by the pain in my left foot from the Morton's neuroma, so at least I was fairly balanced!   The new course, shorter laps but more of them, was great, the laps seemed to tick by very quickly.

There's a saying amongst long distance runners, 'Never trust a fart after 20 miles.'  With this in mind I took advantage of the conveniently located, track side, portaloos.   Too late I realised that there was no loo roll!  This was a bit of a catastrophe. I had a £10 note in my pocket (although I'd forgotten about that at the time) but there wasn't a scrap of anything remotely loo roll like anywhere to hand.  I considered sacrificing a sock - but with about 6 miles to go that seemed like the way to ensure blisters.  Then I saw my lovely, lovely White Star Running buff around my wrist.  Needs must etc.  I can buy a new one.  I have long thought that some one should make a buff which has a perforated strip along one end for just this sort of situation.

Back out on the road again, I found my legs had started to stiffen up a little during my comfort break.  I looked at my watch and figured I should be able to get sub 4 if I could just maintain my pace.  I realised too late (i.e. the end of my penultimate lap) that my Garmin was way off the mark and that I wouldn't be able to get back enough time in one lap!  According to Garmin, I passed the 26.2 mark in 3hrs 57min - but I still had a way to go.  I eventually got to the finish line in 4hrs 4mins and some seconds with my lying Garmin reading 26.9 miles.

Oddly, given how upset I was after Paris, I was not at all disappointed.  I'd set out to have a good time, not to run a good time.  I'd had a great time running with amazing people, supported by yet more amazing people and my time wasn't too shabby either!  It had been my most evenly paced marathon to date too, not perfect by any means - but there is no 18 mile dip in pace (this is normally where I get bored with the idea of running and my pace plummets).  So all in all a good day at the office.  I was given my humungous medal, my quirky goody bag, brand new and gorgeous buff (that will never be sacrificed!) bottle of beer and went to have my photo taken by the amazing Stuart, who can make a silk purse out of a sow's ear and me look halfway decent after a 26.2 miles.  Then it was time for a quick, painful, sports massage with a lovely student from the University of Kent before going back outside to chat and cheer and support other runners.

This is such a lovely race for chatting with and getting to know other people.  You see the supporters every time you go around the track, they feel like members of your family by the end.  If you are suffering they will give you a hug and a few words of encouragement to spur you on your way.  I remember thinking that the runners were all really considerate and polite.  There was lots of lapping going on, but there runners seemed to pass each other without any of the agro you sometimes see in big city races and, dare I say it, parkrun.

So, a HUGE thank you to all at tzruns, and to all the marshals and supporters, especially the girl with curly hair on the bridge.  You are all amazing and I had a great time.  Same again next year?   I can't wait that long, so will be back in Kent for the first Kent Coyote marathon in September.

Another day, another race!

A couple of months ago I called to Husbando from my office 'Name your top 5 1980's films!'  Of course 'The Breakfast Club' was one of those mentioned.  It seems incredible that it was released, in America, 31 years ago today.  To celebrate the lovely people at Phoenix Running planned a themed race - Husbando and I were keen to sign up, but there was a problem.  Number 1 son has been away in Canada for 5 weeks and today was the day he was due back and it seemed churlish to make him negotiate trains and buses to get home.  We had a think, and a plot, and came up with a plan.  The Breakfast Race was a 6 hour timed event consisting of 3.25 mile out and back laps.  In order to 'finish' this race one need only complete one lap.  So the plan was that Husbando would drop me at the start, drive down to Heathrow, pick up our son and then pick me up.  I would run until I saw them at the start/finish area or until I dropped.

The race HQ took up residence inside The Weir Hotel - very sensible given how chilly it was out this morning.  Lots of tea and coffee was drunk, and it was nice to catch up with a running friend I haven't seen for a while.  Lots of people there had run 3 marathons in the last 3 days and were planning to complete another marathon today.  I felt quite wimpy only having run 20 miles the day before!  After a brief pre-race brief (basically - if you can't see the river you are lost, find the river again and then carry on!) we were off.  My legs were not happy about being made to move at more than a staggering pace!  There was a lot of mud on the first part of the course - it got worse every time we passed that section as more feet churned it up.  With the river on my right, the sun shining brightly and the wind behind me it was quite pleasant.  We ran under Walton Bridge - a very attractive bridge and on to the turn around point, coming back we had the wind in our faces - this was not so pleasant, but it was great to see other runners - lots of people I haven't been in touch with since I came off Facebook who I realise I miss quite a bit!  I tried to explain that I wouldn't be there for long due to the 'airport thing!' I regret that I couldn't chat more.  

While I was resigned to the fact I might only get one lap done, I really wanted to run at least two, so I tried to run quite fast.  It certainly felt fast, but it wasn't really.  At the end of the first lap there was no sign of Husbando and the prodigal son, so I set off again.  This time the lorry that had virtually blocked the path by The Swan pub had gone, to be replaced by a man feeding loads of swans - they hissed at me (the swans, not the man!) as I passed.  Like dogs, swans seem to know I am nervous around them!  Coming back felt much harder this time.  I'd already seen the sights 3 time, the wind was stronger and my legs were so tired.  I told myself that if I had to do another lap I'd run out and walk back.  The beauty of a 6 hour challenge event is that you can pretty much do what you want within that time limit! I suspect, had the flight been delayed, I'd have stopped for a quick lunch at a pub along the way before carrying on!  

I was thrilled to see Husbando and child at the end of my second lap - and not only because it meant I could stop running!   I'd been running for 58 minutes - more than enough after yesterday in my book and was rewarded with a big hug from my boy and a huge medal from the race director (which reels that spin!)

I can't run Phoenix Running events on a regular basis, as they are often on weekdays.  This was my first run with them.  I wish I could have stayed for longer (a marathon is still a marathon however long it takes), and I will certainly be back again.  Well organised, small and friendly events are such a treat to take part in!  

Surrey Half Marathon

Now, living in deepest, darkest Hampshire means that one doesn't often see Tai Chi outside of a sports hall.  When we lived in London it seemed that alfresco Tai Chi  in Holland Park was de rigueur.  I was delighted to spot this gentleman in Woking Park this morning.  I was glad that I had arrived early and had a few moments to watch him.

The journey into Woking was easy, the race village opened at 7am and the road closures didn't come into force until 8am.  I parked easily, and followed the throng of lycra clad bodies to the venue.  I knew I'd arrived early as there was no queue for the loos!  The sun was shining and, while it was chilly, I decided that a vest top and shorts would suffice.  Having arrived early, I had no I had no problems checking my bag at the baggage storage in the leisure centre.  When I left the warmth of the leisure centre to make my way to the start the queues just to get in were huge.  I think many of them may have been late to the start.

I chatted briefly with a much faster parkrun friend before he battled his way to the front starting pen and then spent a few minutes chatting with people around me before we were off.  As will all big races, it was crowded at the start, and a fair bit of weaving around people was required before I could get into a rhythm.   It may be different if you are one of the very fast runners at the front - but, as a middle of the road runner it is always a bit of a bun fight!  It was somewhat disconcerting to run towards the start and encounter photographers with tripods facing towards one - I wonder how many surprised faces will have been photographed?  There were also several traffic islands that were not well marked - it is really hard to see a kerb at ground level when running in a big group!

There was plenty of banter between runners, and there were lots of supporters dotted around the course to cheer the runners on.  On a switchback, at about 4 miles, I heard those words that every teacher dreads - especially when wearing lycra shorts - 'Hello Miss!'  I needn't have panicked too much - it was a colleague not a student who stormed past me and is probably blaming a brief conversation with me for missing out on a sub 1.40 time by 9 seconds!

I was running fairly well until about half way.  I'd forgotten to strap my foot up and it was beginning to throb gently.  I eased off the pace.  This was, after all, supposed to be an expensive training run with a medal at the end!  I decided to run the rest of the race at, what I hope will be, my marathon pace.  9min/mile.  I didn't quite manage to slow down that much, but, poorly foot aside, I felt fairly comfortable.  The route was not hilly, but there were long gentle inclines to contend with.  The miles ticked by - rather quickly, the markers seemed to be placed just before my Garmin registered each mile.

And soon we were back to where we had started!  Running to the finish I heard my name being called out by a friend.  That gave me the spur I needed to think 'sod these well disguised speed bumps' and put on a final spurt of speed to get over the line.  While not a PB (by 4 mins) I am aware that I would have been beyond thrilled with this time last spring, and it is my third consecutive sub 1.50 half marathon.  Whether I can do better at Reading is another matter.  If I don't manage it then there is always Hackney  which I am running for UNICEF.    (I'll  be blogging about running for charity in the next few weeks - I just need to collect my thoughts!)

There was no goody bag as such - but that was no bad thing.  We could collect food (mostly nutty stuff) and a drink after being given our medals.  And goody bags tend to be filled with flyers for races that I either a) already know about and am signed up for or b) know about and don't want to run.  I grabbed a sports massage from Guildford Sports Clinic before collecting my bag and heading home - getting home took me as long as running the half!  All the roads I'd used to get there were still closed and the sat nav couldn't cope with me choosing which direction I thought looked hopeful!

(Thanks to Nick for a picture of me looking just about finished!)

Just when it was all going so well.

In the staffroom on Thursday a colleague and I looked forward to today.  I say 'looked forward' but what we were doing was discussing how much we would pay *not* to run today's G3 cross country race. We wondered how much snow would be needed for the organisers to cancel the race, which was a bit of an academic debate as there was no snow forecast.    That said, I had bought new, super grippy cross country shoes and I was keen to try them out.  To register my apathy towards cross country and trail running I wore my Kent Road Runner t shirt!  Having learnt from last time, I   checked my bag at the baggage drop as we made our short way to the start chatting with people we'd met back on the 10th.

The roads were not too bad and we arrived without  incident, registered and sat in the car waiting for 8.30am.  

The ground underfoot felt firmer as we set off, the route was a different one to the first race and I anticipated that it would be a much harder run.  I was running 'naked' (i.e. without my Garmin) and was just taking it easy,  I found the flurries of snow quite distracting as I ran.  It seemed really hard to focus with the constant flecks of white all around!  I find this sort of terrain requires a lot of concentration, I am constantly looking down at my feet to make sure I know where I am going, so there isn't a lot of time to admire the views and I certainly never get to that mindless, mediative state that occurs when road running.  All this concentration meant that I seemed to pass the kilometre markers sooner than I expected - some of this may be due to rather arbitrary placement of said markers.  I decided to err on the side of caution and to regard the 6km marker as the halfway point.  

Just before this marker we turned sharply left, and I could see the dreaded 'Martha's Back Passage' rising up ahead.  It was dotted with brightly coloured, lycra clad runners that looked like a string of fairly lights.  When I got to the base of the hill it was a relief not to have to decide whether I was going to attempt to run up the hill!  It was a narrow track and everyone ahead of me was walking, so I walked too.  Even that was tough - by the time I got to the top my calves were screaming at me and I was breathing heavily, as was everyone else around me!  From then on it was easier - still lots of uphill bits, but nothing of the magnitude of that monster of a hill.

It was all going really well, I was even beginning to think that this cross country stuff wasn't quite as bad as I'd made out.  I passed the water station and the St John's Ambulance people at the 8km marker, this stretch was flat and the path was smooth.  I didn't trip, I didn't stumble, but suddenly my foot was going totally the wrong way underneath me and I was on my hands an knees on the floor!  Several other runners stopped to help - shouting back to the St John's Ambulance guys.  I was just swearing and crying a little bit.  I hobbled back with the first aiders and wondered what to do.  I was able to put a bit of weight on my foot, but it was very ouchy!  I hate not finishing things, and thought that I might as well collect the second medal in the series.  I lost about 10 minutes faffing around and deciding what to do.  

It hurt, and I took it very easy.  I heard my name being called behind me, so stopped and waited while my friend caught up with me.  We ran together for a while until we got to an uphill section across a field. The track here was smooth, I could put my foot down with relative confidence and not having to bend it too much meant that it didn't hurt as much as it did when I put it down on the uneven ground.  Plus the pain took my mind off the hill.  I somehow pulled away from my friend - I don't think he'll forgive me for that!  I just kept plodding on.  

I crossed the finish line and made it as far as the table where the timing chips were being collected.  I couldn't go any further.  I stood there and fought back the tears while the first aiders were summoned.  My head of department finished a few seconds behind me and came to see if I was OK.  She even went to fetch my medal for me as I wasn't going anywhere fast!  I got myself checked out by the St John's Ambulance people who advised me to go to A&E at some point.  I decided to have breakfast first.  I was in urgent need of several cups of tea!  

After a couple of hours at A&E I was released with no bones broken but a lovely purple bruise and ligament damage.  It seems that crutches are in order for a while - plus a trip to the GP and physio.  The timing couldn't be worse in terms of training for upcoming marathons - but there isn't a lot I can do about that now.  As it was I came home and spent the afternoon snoozing, only waking up when I moved my foot and it hurt, rather than getting on with the marking I needed to do!  Ah well - I won't be running tomorrow so I can mark those mocks then!

A big thank you to everyone who helped me today.  Especially the nameless runner who stayed with me when I fell.  It has made me realise how daft I have been in the past to run on similar terrain on my own.  

Did they name this park after me?

A couple of Sundays ago I happened to be running around Battersea Park at about 7am.  I noticed kilometre markers on some lamp posts and decided that, if there was a race going on I'd pay to join in.  I ran a few more laps around the park looking for a race HQ, but couldn't see one, so surmised that the race had been held on Saturday.  I was wrong, as I later found out when friends posted pictures of gorgeous medals in the shape of Battersea Power Station.  I was gutted.  I made a decision to look for races that were happening in London on the Sundays where I would normally be up in town with Husbando.  The aim being to incorporate the 'race' into my long run for the week.  And to add to my bling collection.

After a very short time spent Googling, I found a 10k in Victoria Park organised by The Race Organiser.   I lived briefly in Bethnal Green and have fond memories of a vegetarian Thai restaurant where far too many bottles of wine were consumed on a regular basis, but I wasn't a runner in those days so knew very little of the area apart from the route from the Underground to our flat (past the Fire Station!) and pubs.  The plan was that I would run 3 and a bit miles to the start, run 10k and then run 3 miles back to meet Husbando for lunch. I hadn't factored in a slightly later start time to our journey, which combined with my need to get everywhere too early meant that I'd be 'cutting it fine' (i.e. arriving as registration started rather than 5 minutes before hand!) if I ran to the start.  Never mind - this meant I could take a bag with me, so that I could have warm clothes to wear while waiting.

The start area was well organised, but the start itself was a bit delayed as people were still collecting their race numbers at 9.30am - which is why it is important to allow lots of time to get such things sorted out as most people seemed to turn up at about 9.20am.  The race director managed this with good humour - encouraging us to put our iPhones away and talk to people around us!  We were soon underway.  A little congested at the start - as you can see by my face in the photo above as I try to get past other runners!  I had no plan other than to get round, I knew the course was flat so I was hopeful of getting round in about 50 minutes.  I'd run twice yesterday, parkrun plus a speedy 2 miles, so I certainly wasn't approaching this as anything other than a training run.  I ran the first mile in 7.13mins.  Oops!  I decided that 8min/miles was the pace to aim for, but couldn't make my legs go slow enough for that, so threw caution to the wind and just…er…. ran!  I didn't feel as though I was running well, it didn't feel particularly hard work, and I chatted to various other runners as our paths crossed.  I had a lovely chat with a young lass from Exeter University OTC Harriers, we worked out that she was born about 7 years after I left University of London OTC - I thought this might spur her on, but I am pleased to say that it is ULOTC:1 EUOTC nil!  Three laps meant that there was a good chance I would be lapped, and I was, on my second lap the first two runners flew past - moving so quickly that I felt as though I was standing still.  They finished in 31.16 and 32.00 respectively.

As ever I was doing running maths in my head.  'If I run 8 min/miles for the rest of the race I might get a PB.'  Later this changed to 'Crumbs, I could do 9 min/miles and still get a PB, maybe my maths is out…' Then at the very end I realised I could walk the last couple of hundred meters and still beat my PB.  But I didn't.  The thought did cross my mind - but I knew that I would feel I was cheating in order to make a subsequent PB easier to achieve.  There were three mats at the start and finish - so I started my watch before I crossed the first one and stopped it after I had crossed the last one at the end.  This meant that my chip time was even better!  47.18!  A whole 118 seconds faster than my last PB, making me 24th lady and 4th in my age category (151st overall).  Results were published quickly, and photos were available for viewing and downloading by the time I got home (having run another 6 miles and had lunch etc.) for a very reasonable £3.  The goody bag was descent - water, a juice drink, nature valley bar and some jelly bean type things, plus a medal.  All in al this was a great 10k for a very reasonable price (£13 for UKAA members).

Special thanks must go to the race photographer Basil Thornton who emailed the first picture in this blog to me as a bonus when I ordered some others.  I would never have found it as the number isn't visible and I really like it!

A walk in the park.

Up early again this morning for the journey to London, I have to say that getting up for work at 5.45am is going to be something a lie in tomorrow!  After last Sunday's trip to the marathon that wasn't I had double checked all the race documentation and then checked again.  Because Husbando was going to a book fair all I had to do was snooze in the passenger seat, it also meant that we arrived in London in time to have a second breakfast and I got to practice trying to look cool and relaxed trying to take a selfie.  I am not much good at taking selfies but my darling daughter caught me trying!

On the tube from Russell Square to Knightsbridge I marvelled at how I could possibly have been daft enough to have made a similar journey last weekend and not realised much sooner that I had the wrong date.  It was standing room only, and ram packed with runners.  I chatted with a runner about to embark on her first half marathon and to another runner who was taking part in the Ultra.  The race village is huge - as it incorporates a food festival as well as all the charity marquees.  The weather was better than had been forecast, so I decided to drop my bag off at the bag check and threw on an old tshirt to keep out the chill.  It was almost up to the job.  With time to kill, and not seeing anyone around that I recognised, I made my way to the UNICEF stand.  UNICEF are amazingly supportive of their runners and I was thrilled to be able to support them by running on a ballot place rather than using a charity place this year.

Last night Husbando and I were talking about Paris-Versailles and what I should aim to do today.  I knew that the hill had been my downfall in Paris, but the Royal Parks Half is (almost) as flat as a pancake.  I knew I wanted to try for a PB (set in March 2013 at Reading: 1hr 52mins 19seconds).  Husbando had some daft notion that I should go for 1hr 45 mins.  Bonkers.  That would require me to run at 8min/mile pace ALL THE WAY!  Bonkers.  I stood, shivering in the starting area and decided with about 30 seconds to go that yes, I was desperate for a wee.  I knew that this was highly improbably - being as I'd availed myself of the lovely portaloos only a few minutes earlier - but the idea took hold and reasserted itself every time I saw a 'Toilets ahead' sign for the next 13.1 miles! 

There were two pace runners running 1hr 50mins - I started near the one furthest back and my race plan was nothing more sophisticated than staying ahead of the pace runners to ensure I got my PB.  I decided that, to give my self the best chance of getting my time, I would catch up with the one further forward, overtake her and then just hold on.  I caught her quite easily, and then just kept on going.  I kept thinking 'Oh, this is good, I'm running well, I can't keep it up, but it is fun while it lasts!'   I thanked as many marshals as I could, chatted to a runner in a gorilla suit (I suggested that he could at least have shaved his legs), cheered the Combat Stress team running with a stretcher and thanked everyone who called out my name as I ran past.  It is only good manners after all!  Although one of the other runners did comment that they'd never heard anyone thanking the marshals before - maybe that is something that doesn't normally happen at 'big' races?  

Running up the Mall I realised that I had run my fastest 5 miles ever.  Entering Hyde Park, and being hit with the wall of noise I was loving my run.  I hit 10k in my PB time - maybe a smidge faster and in the time it good me to run 10 miles in Paris I ran just over 11 miles today.  At some point I realised that I was definitely going to get a PB and I eased off a little bit.  Then I did a few calculations (not easy - my 12 x table had totally deserted me) and realised there was a chance I could get a time under one hour fifty.  That, I decided, would be amazing.  I was still chatting to people around me, keeping my eyes open for familiar faces - but not seeing any and just enjoying the fantastic weather and fabulous surroundings.  

Approaching the finish I, yet again, metaphorically kicked myself for not doing any track running.  I looked at my watch as I got to the '800m to go' sign, saw that it said 1:41 and some change and had no idea if that meant I could finish in 1:45.  I looked at my watch as I got to the '400m to go' sign and couldn't work out how long I'd taken as my brain was just refusing to do any form of simple mathematics (although it was allowing me to nag some poor man who desperately wanted to walk the last 500m!)   There really was nothing for it other than to throw myself towards the finish line as fast as I could.   So that's what I did.  I crossed the line, stopped my Garmin and could barely believe my eyes.  I swore.  I was in shock - one lovely marshal put his arm round me and asked if I was OK, 'I can't run that fast - I don't believe it!'  I replied.  'Oh, but you have done it darlin'!' he replied.  

After that it was all medals, bananas, water bottles and goody bags (one of the best goody bags around) as I made my way back to the race village and the UNICEF stand.  A quick massage of my quads was most welcome as were the congratulations of the support team.  I bought myself a celebratory hoodie and was thrilled that I had to put the small back and get an extra small!  

Split times

Lunch with friends from San Francisco, who we haven't seen for about 8 or 9 years, served to refuel and refresh.  Lovely to catch up with all their news!  All in all a fantastic day.  I still can't believe I have run a half marathon in less than an hour and three quarters.  I may get DOMS of the face from smiling so much!  I'll definitely be back next year - this race is just so pretty and so well organised.  Hopefully I will get lucky in the ballot - if not I'll be after everyone for sponsorship.

This blog post has been brought to you by a cup of tea and a salted caramel chocolate pot! 

The first York marathon

I've been to York lots of times, but I always seem to forget just how far away it is from my house in Hampshire.  This was definitely the case when entries for the inaugural York Marathon opened back in January.  Luckily I remembered soon enough that I would need to book a hotel room.  That was all done way back at the beginning of the year and then, what with changing jobs and a million and one other things to do, I put it to the back of my mind.  When you have five children going away overnight is not a simple matter.  Taking them with you makes any hotel stay rather pricy (especially as all the hotels in York seemed to have hiked up their prices for this weekend), you can't leave a 16 year old in charge of his siblings for that long, so arrangements must be made.  Our arrangements this time saw the two youngest going to stay with my mum (who we met at a service station on the M1 for the handover), the two oldest ones staying with friends, and the middle one coming with Husbando and I.

The journey up on Saturday afternoon was uneventful, and we checked in to a Travelodge near the University campus where the race was to start.  I'm a Premier Inn girl myself, but there was no availability so Travelodge it was.  The beds aren't as comfy in a Travelodge.  After a final carb load at Pizza Express we returned to the room for an early night.  This was a marathon where I'd actually be able to get a lie in as my alarm was set for 7.30am.

We got to the campus at about 8.30am.  It was somewhat confusing walking in as the signage seemed to be set up for the shuttle buses and drivers rather than pedestrians.  We walked through a warren of university buildings, along the way we found a very rare thing - a ladies' toilet with no queue!  Then through a few more warren like bits and we joined the baggage queue - possibly the longest queue I have ever been in and moving so slowly.  I did a rough calculation that there was no way I'd get to the baggage drop before the starting pens closed, luckily I had Husbando and middle child with me, so they could take my bag.  I said goodbye to them and then joined the masses at the start.

I bumped into two fellow Fetchies there - lovely to put faces to names.  I have yet to meet anyone wearing a 'Fetch' shirt who wasn't friendly and happy to chat.  The 9.30am start was a little delayed and took me a few minutes to get across the start line, but it was good to be moving!  The first stretch was down hill.  Quite a steep downhill, which was worrying because I knew we had to come back up that road at the finish.  I tried not to think about it.  We ran into the city centre, through the main shopping centre, passed Betty's Tearooms and York Minster before heading out into the countryside.

The support was amazing.  Not just in the city centre but in all the villages (it isn't every race where you get to high 5 a lady vicar who is standing outside her church in her Sunday best) and at random points on country lanes.  You'd be running along, hoping that you'd reach a point where you could die quietly around the next corner (or dip behind a hedge for a comfort break) only to find a group of people cheering!

This marathon was billed as being a flat marathon.  It is the hilliest 'flat' race around!  The hills were accompanied by unexpectedly dry weather, but it was very windy in places; especially as we ran up a hill past a garden centre called 'Breezy Knees Garden Centre!'  At 20 miles I was starting to wilt.  I had a brief walking break, but it was so hard start running again that I decided not to bother with that again. I did have to slow down to text Husbando so that he knew when to get to a spectator point, much hilarity ensued amongst spectators in the village at 23 miles about me texting while shuffling along.  I said I was calling for a taxi.

It was around this point that I realised I could get a PB if I pushed a bit.  I'd turned up at the start line thinking that this race was about just getting round.  That I'd be happy with 4hrs30mins.  I was only going through with it because I was doing it in Ali's memory and because it was the first.  I was frankly shocked.  I started to push myself a bit more, and was overtaking people all over the place, including people who'd overtaken me when I walked and when I had a 'comfort stop!'

At about 25.4miles I got to 'the hill.'  I was desperate now to get this bloody run over and done with, so I just kept on running,  I don't think my pace dropped at all in that mile, but I was overtaking people left, right and centre, which felt great!  And then we were at the top of the hill and it was about 0.3miles to go.  It was a gentle downhill, but my knees were tired and there was no way I was going to throw myself down the hill at full pace.  I'm glad I didn't as I might have missed seeing Husbando and my son in the crowd.  I did manage a fairly strong finish - concentrating on form as I crossed the line.  One lady near me did one better - crossing the line with a cartwheel!  I'd seen her do several cartwheels as we'd run around the route.  I have no idea how anyone could manage that after 26.2 miles - I can't do one at all!

I'd crossed the line in 4hrs 11mins 40secs.  A new PB!  We filtered through to the finish and collected our goodie bags (medals, tech t-shirt and various other bits and pieces) and I met up with Husbando for the LONG walk back to the car (parked at the Travelodge).

It was a good race with excellent support and beautiful scenery.  If it wasn't so far away (it took 6hrs to drive home) then I'd definitely consider doing it next year.

Brackenwood Festival Place 5k

Why are we paying to do a 5k race when we have a perfectly good 5k we can run for free every Saturday?  That was a question a few parkrun regulars were asking as we gathered in Festival Place for the start of this unusual race.  The reason we were prepared to pay was, I reckon the fact that it was a) local, b) reasonably priced and c) a bit of a laugh!

With a maximum of 200 runners, it was only two thirds of the size of Basingstoke parkrun and a larger, wider starting area meant that the start felt much less busy.  We started level with the edge of Pizza Express and ran straight through the double doors into Festival Place shopping centre!  We hared past Debenhams, Fat Race and Waterstones before making a u-turn outside M&S (and passing some lions) to come back past Next, H&M and BHS before leaving Festival Place via the bus station exit.  After that I was, quite frankly, lost.  I just followed the person ahead of me on what seemed to be a predominantly uphill slog.  We went under some roads, and I just followed the excellent directions of the marshals.  It was lovely to see marshals that I knew - and all the marshals were cheerful and encouraging.

It was surprisingly hot out there - for a race that started at 9am!  I was glad of the shade as we came into Eastrop Park (which I know having run 5 laps of it dressed as Santa Claus!  This race only called for one loop of the park and then back under another road and across the finish line near Nandos.  As I did a u-turn under the ring road the marshal there informed me I was 6th lady!  I knew 4 of the 5 ladies ahead of me, I knew exactly where the 5th lady was and knew I had no chance of catching her, but I had no idea where the 7th lady was, and I was not going to let her catch up with me!  I knew by now that I wasn't on for a PB, but I wanted to try to run it in under 24 minutes - I managed this with 4 seconds to spare!  And the 7th lady did not catch up with me!  In fact I was 45th overall.

The goodie bag is excellent!  It includes a voucher for half a chicken at Nandos - which probably means that I have pretty much got my entry fee back in free chicken.  A nice medal, with a lovely purple ribbon (I am easily pleased!), plenty of water and bananas at the finish all made for a rather nice morning out!

Definitely a race I will do again next year.

I am a marathon runner!

This morning I had a lie in, compared to last week, but I was still out of bed  by 6am.  A quick cup of tea and a bowl of porridge while checking emails  before I collected my carefully organised kit and jumped into the car.  I'd left my race number on the keyboard last night so that there was no way I'd forget it, which is logical, until I moved it to send an email.  I'd only got 5 miles from home before I remembered and headed back.  No matter, I arrived at my friend's house at the right time, and was welcomed by his gorgeous little boy who had made us paper flowers for luck!

The Abingdon Marathon starts (and finishes) on a track.  It is a smallish race, with only about 1,000 runners.  I had a couple of hopes for the race, one was to finish in a higher position than my race number.  Looking around the assembling runners I began to doubt that this would be possible.  Very fit and fast looking people were running around the track to warm up, while I huddled under my space blanket!  

The race started promptly and we were off.  My aim was to run 10 minute miles, in the hope of coming in at around 4 hours and 20 minutes.  As this was my first marathon, I also accepted that things might not go to plan, and that four and a half hours would be acceptable and, if I'm honest, I'd be happy to finish before the course cut off of 5 hours.

Running conditions were lovely.  Cool and cloudy.  I had only done one short run since last weekend, and I was raring to go.  10 minute miles were proving impossible to maintain.  At about 1 mile in, Rohan came up behind me and told me that I was running at 8.40 minute mile pace.  I knew this, but I couldn't make my legs go any slower.  I needed a hill or something to slow me down.  I ran the first 5k in a respectable parkrun pace, and the first 10k was a season's best time for me.  Oops.  This was not the plan!  I walked through all the water stations in an attempt to slow myself down, and fall back down the field a bit to be running with slower runners.  It worked a bit. 

Around 10 miles I started to get very bored and wondered whether I could be bothered to finish, my foot was sore, but no more so than normal.  With a few notable exceptions (the Fetcheveryone fetchpoint being one of them) there was very little on course support.  The marshals were plentiful and excellent, but compared to big London races, it was lonely out there!  I ran 3 or 4 mile stretches on my own.  As the roads weren't closed MP3 players weren't allowed so I sang a bit in my head to keep myself going.  I also did some tricky maths problems to pass the time.  

The fetchpoint at mile 12 was a huge boost.  I still felt great, but bored, bored, bored!  Here though I got to meet people I've only chatted to online, and two lovely people I don't see often enough!  I was so thrilled to see Colin that I ran across the road to give him a hug. He lifted me clean off the ground!  I also dallied a bit to chat to the lovely Elaine.  You'd be hard pushed to find two nicer people to bump into during a marathon.   I carried on invigorated, and remotivated, but slower.  Which was no bad thing.  

I don't really remember when it started to feel like hard work.  I do know that I was getting slower and slower, looking forward to the water stations as an excuse to slow down, but it was progressively harder to get going again.  At one point I was desperate for a loo.  There were no loos.  I was on an industrial estate, so had to look around for a suitable bush!  Not the high point of my day, especially when I suddenly thought that the industrial park might have more CCTV cameras than the leafy lanes of Hampshire!  The marshals were excellent, encouraging us every step of the way.  Even if they did say, at 22 miles, the finish was 'just around the corner!'

At 25 miles my Garmin battery died.  It was fully charged at the start.  Clearly I need to run faster or get my Garmin serviced.  I hadn't checked my watch for a while so I had no clear idea of what sort of time I was on for.  All I could do was listen to my legs - which were screaming!   My feet had been perfectly dry until I came into the park, where we had to run through a big muddy puddle!  The cold water felt lovely after the initial shock.  

The race ended with a partial lap round the track.  As I passed the '200m to go' sign I decided that I was not content to shuffle over the line and pushed hard for home - a moment that was caught on camera by Colin: 

I finished in 4hrs 23 minutes and 8 seconds, which I am reasonably happy with.  Definite room for improvement, but I feel I can run better and faster if I do this again. 

After the race we collected goodie bags, t-shirts and medals (see below) and had to walk up stairs to exit the track.  At the top of the stairs we were given tea and biscuits, which were very welcome.  The next task was to walk down stairs, carrying a polystyrene cup of tea, biscuit, bag, t-shirt, medal and (in my case) a water bottle!  I think running a marathon was easier than that!  

Meeting up with super speedy friends afterwards, it was reassuring to see the that they too were walking strangely!  We managed to navigate our way to a Pizza Express we had passed during our run where we discussed our war stories and demolished pizzas!

So now I can say that I have run a marathon.  Would I do it again?  Yes!  But I would do it differently. I need to work on getting the pacing right so that I can enjoy the latter stages more.  I am so glad I did do it though!  If anyone wants to sponsor me retrospectively for this (I am fundraising for UNICEF) please follow this link!