So I am sitting at my desk on Friday night. Donations are literally flying into my fundraising page and I am now safely over £3000 and on my way to £4000. Such wonderful generosity from everybody who has donated, and I am genuinely touched by it.
As I type this, it is slightly under 40 hours until I start my London Marathon run.
If you want to track me on the way round, just follow this link (using a mobile phone) and it will take you to the app and you can track my progress. My start time is just after 11am Sunday.
Final preparations are underway at the Snook household. Well I say underway, but essentially all I have done is gone and gotten my leg taped up by good old Trevor, and that is about it so far. There is still plenty of time for preparation, so no need to rush.
In case anybody is wondering from the photos, I should probably cover two things
Yes I did shave one leg before I had the tape applied. One shaved leg is a strong look, so I might just keep it.
Yes, I do have a tattoo of Ron Swanson on my calf (along with a few others).
Its a shame to cover Ron over, but I am sure he would understand. In fact, I doubt Ron would look very kindly on running marathons, as he would probably find it all a bit unnecessary, but luckily it is me running it and not him.
The girls presented me with a little present earlier, which is now attached to my shoe. I absolutely love it, and every time I look down at my feet in exhaustion this message will be looking back at me.
Any nerves that I was feeling have shifted now, and I am just excited to be running London and very proud to have inspired so many people to donate to my fundarising.
All that is left now is to pack my bag in the morning, head up to the city, collect my race pack, one nice relaxing sleep and then I am off. 26.2 miles round London. All the sights, all the sounds. The crowd cheering and (with a bit of luck) my body holding together. It is a strange thing to say, but I do love running marathons.
I have been threatening to retire to anybody who will listen to me complain about my running. Have a year off and pick back up from scratch. But being so close to the race I know now that this is incredibly unlikely to happen. I love the challenge of these events, love supporting the charities I have fundraised for over the years and only a moron would give all that up.
I might take a bit of time off though, cause I have London to Brighton Bike Ride on 18th June . 8 weeks or so to train for that. Should be fine! One thing at a time though. London Marathon first.
Once again, thank you each and every one of you who have donated. It means so much to me, so much to Michelle and her son, and so much to Daisys Dream.
So it is Monday evening last week. Monday 3rd April. My final long run of my trianing plan. All the hard work (barring this one run) is done. I am feeling fit and looking forward to my training slowing down in my run into the Marathon on the 23rd.
Setting off, I felt great. Springy legs that felt good and I was happily chatting away to Ant (my running partner for the evening). It was a beautiful clear sky. The sunset was stunning and we were just two mates, slowly making our way along a 28km out and back run route.
Then it happens. 5km into the run. A calf twinge. “Nothing to worry about” I thought. These sorts of little twinges happen often when running and usually you can run them off within a few kilometres. Except I could not run this one off. The further we got the more and more my calf hurt. Getting to the half way point, it was agony. Our pace was slow, and turning around we got to the 18km mark and I had to start walking. We walked-ran-walked-ran the rest of the way home. Taking a little shortcut we got back to my place having completed 26km. My right calf was in pieces!
The pain of keeping moving on this calf was the worst pain I have ever run with. Worse than when I broke 3 ribs at Race to the King after 6 miles and had 49 more miles to go. Running with broken ribs hurt less than this calf injury. I knew that I had done something major. How major I was not sure, but limping up to bed after my shower I had a deep sadness in my heart.
Sunset looking at Portsmouth from Hayling. Absolutely stunning.
Waking up the next day I couldn’t put my foot down to walk on it. This was one week ago today (as I am writing this). 18 days from the marathon and I had my 3rd running injury of my training plan, and by far the worst. I am simply gutted. Sadness washes over me. I feel robbed. All I wanted to do was to run London injury free. I have done EVERYTHING right in my training. I have not pushed myself too hard. I have listened to my body, trained properly, built up the training properly, done everything you are supposed to do. My aging body has let me down at the final hurdle. Feels like I have been punched in the gut.
After a day or two of limping about and feeling sorry for myself the calf feels a tiny bit better. I contacted Trevor (my coach and the only person I trust to advise me on all things related to running, swimming, cycling) and asked what he thought. He diagnosed a calf tear over the phone, but told me to rest one more day, try a run and if it goes again, it is defo a calf tear. If it is OK, then it might just be a bad cramp. Fingers crossed for the bad cramp.
Wake up next morning (this is Friday 7th April now, 16 days before the marathon), trainers on and out the door I go for an EXTREMELY gentle 5km run. 1.8km into the run my calf goes, again. Bit more instant pain this time and it definitely does not feel like cramp. More like a ripping sensation from the inside towards the middle, about half way up the calf. That is it. It’s a calf tear. 100%. I turn around and limp home.
Appointment is booked with Trevor ASAP (which was today, Tuesday 11th April, 11 days till the marathon). He puts me and my calf through our paces and diagnoses me with a calf tear. Trevor tells me that recovery time is somewhere between 3-8 weeks for the severity of tear that I have. I have 11 days. Now it is clearly impossible to cram 3-8 weeks recovery into 11 days.
Trevor knows me well. It was him that gave me the belief I could complete an Ironman years ago. Him that taught me the mental resilience it takes to be an endurance athlete. So he knows I am stubborn. He also knows that I have raised a tonne of money for charity so far, and that there is no way I am not turning up to the start line.
Trevor carefully explains to me what I need to do. A bucket load of strength work on the calf. 3 sessions a day ideally, with no days off. It needs to be worked hard to encourage the recovery. This is going to hurt. He knows it, and I know it, but neither of us care. If it is what I need to do, then it is what I need to do. He will strap my calf up before the marathon, which will help. I will devise a walk-run strategy for the day to make sure I get round the race. I will make the start line, and more importantly, the finish line.
That being said. my dreams of running London Marathon injury free are in tatters. I am probably going to be the only person on the start line with a torn calf. I know that pretty much every other runner would withdraw from the race. But this is simply not an option for me. Not this close. Not after I have worked so hard.
The funniest part about all of this, is the people who know me well. Trevor, my wife, my running mates, none of them have tried to persuade me to withdraw. In fact, not a single one has even mentioned the idea to me. They know how determined I am. How seriously I take the fundraising and the honour of running for Daisy’s Dream.
So in 11 days time I will be on the start line. My leg will be taped up like a mummy. I will have done God only knows how many calf raises and strenghtening exercises. Despite all this, I will be INCREDIBLY nervous. Will my calf hold out? How long might it be into the race before it goes again? Will I have to walk the entire marathon (I really hope not)? I could be staring down the barrell of my slowest ever marathon. In fact, this is more than likely.
My start time is not till 11am. If it takes me 7 hours (which it might) I will be finishing at 6pm. Everybody will have gone home. I will probably have the clean up crew following me round. How utterly embarassing.
This is not the London experience I was hoping for, but it is the one I am going to have. I am facing hour upon hour of pain. Will I be able to enjoy the sights and the crowd? Let’s hope so. Will I finish last? Let’s hope not.
After London I am taking a year off running. Time to recuperate, strenghten up, swim and cycle and lift weights, climb some mountains, enjoy my yoga and rehabilitate my body. Running is too much for me. These injuries, the terrible lows that they cause me to go through both mentally and physically. They just don’t feel like they are worth it any more. It is a sad realisation, but one I have already made peace with.
I need to face the fact that I am not a good runner. I never will be. Whether I will return to running, I don’t know. I absolutely love it, but it does not love me, and sometimes when you have a relationship with something or somebody that you love, but it does you no good, you have to let it go.
Fear not though dear reader, if you have used your hard earned cash to sponsor me, it has not been in vain. I will be at the start line. Nothing will stop me. And I will make it to the finish. I have absolutely no doubt on that. None what so ever. It may take me 5 hours, it may take me 7, but I will cross that line.
If there is anybody reading this who has not sponsored me yet, and you feel sorry for my dumb ass and want to help me, popping some money into my fundraising pot would cheer me up beyond belief. I am currently at almost £2500. So close to half way towards target. It would be amazing to get to £3500 before the race. At least some good can come from what (if I am honest) has been the hardest training experience of my life.
Plus, this may be your last ever chance to sponsor me. So you better make the most of it. 🙂
Hope you are all well out there in blog reading land, and I will update you soon on my rehab progress.
It’s Sunday 27th March. 7pm has come around. I have waited all day to head out for my training run today as the weather was supposed to clear, which it has.
I wearily gather up my running vest so I can carry some nutrition, my head torch (cause despite the clocks going forward, it’s still going go get dark), kiss the wife and kids goodbye and then out into the twilight I go.
Heading up to the Havant road my path takes me westwards before I turn south and head onto Portsea Island (the island which Portsmouth city is on). Jogging past houses and flats, I am instantly struck by how much more you notice when running than any other form of locomotion.
I have driven, cycled and walked down this road hundreds, if not thousands of times, but running seems to allow me to take more in that any other method of getting about. I notice roads I have never noticed before, little cut through alleyways and paths weaving between the houses and flats. I am struck by the beauty of the twilight. It is quieter than I expected, and even though I am on a busy dual carriageway style urban road, there are few cars about.
Making my way further west the flats become a bit less frequent and more of the sky becomes visible, and it is a beauty. We often get stunning reds and oranges in our sunsets in Portsmouth, especially over the Solent, but todays sunset is lilac and purple and deep blue. There is a real “other worldly” sense about the night tonight. Dawn and dusk are by far my favourite parts of any day, but I think I especially enjoy sunset. The hustle and bustle of the daytime is giving way to the relative peace and tranquility of the night. The birds flying overhead are finding their nightime resting roosts, and not quite yet, but in a few weeks time the bats will be out, hoovering up insects as they expertly weave their way around the urban landscape. There is always great beauty to be found, if you just look around a bit.
Hilsea LidoSouthCoast Wakepark
Eventually I turn south, crossing over (or under in this case) the M27 and then making my way round the very top of Portsmouth Harbour. There is nobody about, and as I make my way past Hilsea Lido and then shortly afterwards, the SouthCoast Wakepark I am actually feeling fairly decent. I am just over 5km into my half marathon (21km, or 12.1 miles for those of use who like ancient units of measurement) and have completed the distance in about 35 minutes, which is far from fast, but perfect training pace.
They have recently updated the path around this part of Portsmouth Harbour, and they have done a great job. It is a great area to cycle or rollerblade or run or whatever, but tonight, other than an odd cyclist and a very occasional runner, I am out here on my own.
Looking west from the path around Portsmouth Harbour. The lights are the M275 that runs towards Gunwharf down the west coast of Portsea Island.
As my distance increases my pace slows a little, but this is inevitable. I am not as well trainied as I should be at this stage of my marathon training plan, but then again I never ever am, so this is par for the course. Never-the-less, I plod on, turning left again and making my way east across Portsmouth through North End. The houses here are mostly old Victorian terrace housing built around the turn of the century (1900 not 2000) and they have large bay windows and high ceilings. I have always loved this type of architecture and ponder to myself how so much of it is still in such good condition. I doubt when these houses were built anybody expected people to still be living in them 100 years later.
The occasional sickly sweet smell of what must be rather pungent cannabis hits my nostrils as I pass certain houses. “Clearly they are having a chilled one tonight” I think to myself, contemplating if they hear me shuffle past from inside their living room and are wondering to themselves what the hell somebody is doing out running. It is now about 8.30pm, I have been out for about an hour and I am going along nicely.
It is always strange where your mind goes to when you run long distances. More than an hour, and my mind seems to just relax into it. As long as I am not aching or struggling too much, I achieve a sort of Zen like state. I suppose it is the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the ground, the relaxed but elevated breathing, my heart going quicker than at rest, but I find the entire thing very relaxing. No sooner am I thinking how lovely and relaxing it is, than I turn south again and straight into the wind.
Now it is almost always windy in Portsmouth, so running in a breeze is standard fare for me. Running into the wind makes it a bit more tough going, but I soldier on past houses where old friends used to live, filled with memories of fun times. Many of these friends have left Portsmouth now, but the memories of BBQ’s and watching football matches and just hanging out remain. Great times.
Eventually turning back to the east and then northwards, I am out onto the Eastern Road and making my way North towards home. Now somehow (and I have no idea how) the wind is still into my face. Portsmouth has a unique way of channeling the wind so you always feel like you are running into it, and tonight is no different.
Slogging up the path to the side of the dual carriageway I am cursing the stupid wind. I am starting to feel pretty tired now and the last thing I need is the wind hampering my progress. I know that I have to do 10 miles (16km) before I will turn down the cycle path that runs along the north side of Langstone Harbour and the will be sheltered from the wind, but I am a few kilometres from that yet.
Approaching the 10 mile mark I start to get a bit of a second wind (pardon the pun). 10 miles always seems like a significant distance to me and I pick up my pace ever so slightly. I change from my usual audiobooks that I like to listen to when running, to a comedy podcast (The Wolf and Owl – extremely highly recommended) and turn onto the path that signifies the final leg of my journey. My kids call this path the “Dead Rat Trail” because they once saw a dead rat here, and imagining them talking about it amuses me as I complete the trail, turn north, then quickly west and am finally on the Havant road back home.
Arriving back at the house, I have completed a half marathon in just over 2hrs 30 mins, which is a good time for a training run, and most importantly, I have run the entire way without stopping and don’t feel like I am going to die, which is always a bonus.
I’m starting to feel like a proper runner again, which I am loving. It feels good to be able to go out and run long and enjoy it. Is a proper little bit of tranquility in an otherwise crazy world.
I hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you made it to the end, thank you for sticking with me. Just to remind you that all this training is in aide of the London Marathon for Daisy’s Dream, so if you can donate to my fundraising effort I would really appreciate it.
Its last Wednesday, just after lunch. I am having one of those days where I have tonnes to do but am getting nothing done. Sometimes it just goes like that. It’s been raining non-stop in England for what feels like forever. I genuinely can’t remember the last time that I saw the sun shining. Its grey, damp and depressing.
As I look out of my home office window onto the street the rain is coming down sideways. The wind is howling and it looks very much like there might be a bit of thunder. Another joyous winter day in England.
My motivation to do anything is virtually zero. I am moping about the house, trying to get my work done whilst figuring out if I need yet another coffee, something to eat, to do 1000 press ups or just to slack it all off and go to bed.
I am grumpy, and I am getting increasingly grumpy just about being grumpy. Fed up and I’ve just had enough. It is starting to get dark outside, but then again, it is pretty much totally dark even during the daytimes when the weather is like this.
Thinking back on my running career, I realise it is time to take action. To sort my life out. I wearily troop upstairs and dig out some running gear. Waterproof running top on, I stash a headtorch in the pocket and head out into the rain. ‘My god this weather is awful’ I think to myself as I head out the door.
Off I go on my usual 7ish km route that I regularly run. Out along the main road I plod, but quickly after I get going I start to feel better. Running can have this effect on you. Luckily, I am running with the wind, so as the rain lashes against my back I get a little boost. It is always easier running with the wind. That being said, the rain is so hard that it is stinging my calves as I make my way down the Havant road towards Langstone Harbour.
Right on queue, the thunder starts. A huge flash of light, followed very quickly by an enormous boom that sounds like the heavens are splitting in two. The storm must be right on top of me. I can only imagine what the car drivers are thinking as they see some lunatic runing down the road in a thunderstorm, their wheels sending up huge waves of water, soaking me through as they drive through the enormous puddles on the roadside. The thunder and lightening continues, flashes lighting up the dark clouds as the sky rumbles above me. Whenever I am out running and there is a thunderstorm, I always think back to the ancient people of earth. How scary it must have been for them, not knowing what is causing this apocalyptical noise. The Gods were definitely angry.
Soon I make my way through to an offroad section which leads to the harbour. I am sliding around all over the place in the mud. My road shoes have zero grip and I am forced to stop and turn on my headtorch. It is dark as hell.
The mud gives way to more tarmac, and as I turn along the harbourside, suddenly I am straight into the wind. The rain lashes at my face, stinging my eyes. My waterproof jacket is useless in this weather, having been soaked through by the car splashes, and I can feel water leaking through my shoulders and chest.
This really is the most horrendous running conditions, and I am absolutely LOVING it.
I am grinning like an idiot as I turn and make my way back across the M27 bridge and turn back for home. This is not some sort of massochistic joy, though you would not be mistaken in thinking that it was. My smile is because I know that runs like this are worth so much more than just the exercise itself.
Whilst I am always hopeful for good weather at the races that I run, good weather is far from guaranteed. Thinking back on it, I have run Beachy Head Marathon in the strongest wind I have ever been outside in. I ran the Mouth to Mouth Marathon during a horrendous hail storm, and the marathon at the end of my ironman triathlon was rain very similar to today (you can see this for yourself in this video of me and my mate Bushy crossing the finishing line). I even completed the Owler half ironman when literally half of the field had to stop on the bike leg because the rain was so hard you couldn’t see where you were going. I didn’t stop of course. Why would I? I finished last in that race, but at least I finished.
So I am no stranger to completing races in shocking conditions, and there is absolutely no guarantee that when I run London Marathon in 14 weeks time the weather will be good.
This is why these runs count triple. Firstly, you are out there running in the first place. Secondly, nobody else is mad enough to go out in these conditions and I could have easily just stayed in the house and done something else. Finally (and most importantly) Iare building up my mental reserves. These mental reserves are vital, cause if it is shocking weather on the day of your race at least I am conditioned for it. Preparation is vital, after all.
Getting home from the run, I felt great. After a quick shower I was able to focus, get on with my work and turn what would have been an unproductive day into a very productive one. This is the power that running can have, especially running in conditions that no sane person would even go outside in!
During this run I had a couple of phone calls. My wife rang me to see what I was up to, and wasn’t even slightly surprised that I was out running in the torrential rain. She is used to these sorts of antics now, and after a short conversation she just said “I’ll leave you to it, see you at home later.” No “take care, the weather is awful” or “what the hell are you doing out running in this”. This really amused me. I know that she is always worried about me when I am doing this crazy stuff, but I always make it home in the end and she knows the value of runs like this and how much I need running in my life.
I also briefly spoke to Vicky from Daisy’s Dream, the charity that I am running London Marathon for. She was substantially more shocked than my wife that I was out running in the awful weather, but when I caught up with her the next day she too understood the value of going out in all conditions.
I suppose the moral of the story is that when you are in a funk, sometimes a bit of exercise is all that you need. Not all of us are lucky enough to be fit enough to run. Every day I count my lucky stars that I am in good enough condition at the moment to do some exercise. I have spent long periods of time injured and unable to exercise as I would like. But right now I am feeling good. Fitness is improving and I am proud that I went out in the awful conditions and am even more proud to be running for Daisy’s Dream.
My next post will be all about them and my fundraising endeavours this year. London Marathon is just the start of things for me. The first in a series of events this year to raise money for some very deserving charities. Times are hard in the UK right now. Most of us are cold at home cause the heating bills are so high. We are struggling to make ends meet. I know that. But at these times charity becomes even more important. This is why I will fundraise hard this year, because charities are hit the hardest during tough times. The work that they do is so very vital and so many people rely on them, and by proxy, they rely on people like me to hopefully motivate people like you to donate some of your hard earned money to keep them running and enable them to maintain the vital services they provide to those less fortunate than us.
Anyway, its a nice sunny day today (the first one that I can remember). Blue skies are shining outside my window and the world seems like a better place for it.
Even better, I am going out for dinner tonight with the lads from my NCT crew. We met during NCT classes when our first kids were all due to be born and have remained friends since, so I am excited to see them and catch up.
Hope all is well with you guys who are reading this. For all your runners out there, next time it is awful weather and you don’t want to run, think of me grinning my way round a 7km run in a thunderstorm and perhaps put your shoes on and head out yourself. You never know, you might just enjoy yourself.
Only the coolest amongst you will recognise where the quote from the title of this blog post is from (hint, the image below is a big clue). For the rest of you it will mean very little, other than the fact that for once in my life, my training is going to plan.
So far I have run 13 out of 13 of my planned training runs. That is right, I have not missed a single one yet.
“Big Woop” I here all of you runners who stick religiously to your training plans say. But for me, this is quite the achievement.
Under usual circumstances I write a detailed plan, set out with the best of intentions then after a week or so it goes right off the rails and I usually end up just writing yet another plan, to plan for where the first plan went wrong, then not sticking to the new one. Rinse and repeat and hey presto, you have pretty much summed up my approach to training over the last few years.
This time it seems very different. I have consistently trained through tiredness, heat, rain, niggling calves and ankles. I have gone out regardless, and I feel a lot better for it.
The idea or concept of consistency is a fascinating one. Whilst it is entirely logical that if you consistently do a thing over a long enough period you are bound to improve at it, for some reason it has taken me a VERY long time to come around to this idea.
I recently read Arnold Schwarzenegger’s autobiography. In that, he talks about how he convinced James Cameron to give him the role of the Terminator (which was originally supposed to have been played by OJ Simpson, believe it or not).
Arnold mentions to Cameron that the Terminator is an android (cybernetic organism to be precise) and as such, would not blink when firing off pistols, shotguns or automatic rifles. To add authenticity to the part, Cameron would need an actor who can train himself not to blink when shooting weapons. An actor who can condition his body not to do a thing which it naturally does to protect itself (eg blink when a very loud and very bright weapon is discharged close to the eyes, which are very delicate at the best of times).
Arnold goes on to say that he is uniquely qualified to train himself into this position, as it is just about reps (repetitions). He has lifted tonnes upon tonnes of weights, performing rep after rep to get the physique that took him to 7 Mr Olympia titles.
Firing a gun without blinking, argues Arnold, is exactly the same. So that is what he did. He went to the firing range and trained for months on end, firing all manner of different weapons until he could shoot these guns without blinking.
If you watch the Terminator movies closely, in the scenes when he is shooting weapons Arnold never blinks. It is such a subtle thing, but adds to the overall lore of the movie and helps the audience to realise just how deadly this android (cybernetic organism) really is. How unfeeling it is. How not human it is. How it cares about nothing but killing.
An actor blinking as he shot would make him look human. Arnold realised that this was no good, but also that there was only one way to train yourself to be able to shoot without blinking, and that was repetition and consistency.
Whilst I absolutely love this story (Schwarzenegger is a bit of an idol for me) it also has direct correlation to my own training journey.
Have I ever really consistently applied myself to fitness training in the past? The answer to that is no. Have I ever just repped out my training runs. Rep after rep, run after run. No matter what, gone out and completed that run. Again, the answer is no.
For the first time in my athletic endeavours, the importance of just repetition and consistency is clearly obvious to me. The penny has finally dropped.
So here is to a further 17 weeks of consistent training. No missing any sessions. At all. For any reason. Consistent running. 5 times a week, every week, for 17 more weeks.
My body will adapt to this. I will get fitter. Only consistency and repetition will cause this to happen. And who knows, perhaps I will be able to not blink when the starting pistol sounds at 6am on the 7th November.
Here is to consistent training, loving the journey and making the start line.
Just over a couple of weeks ago, whilst sitting on my sofa, I was thinking about my upcoming races this year. I am running the brilliant Ragnar Relay with 4 good friends, but this won’t require me to run more than 7-8 miles in one go. My usual level of bravado figured this will be fairly easy at any level of fitness (completely untrue) and despite the fact that I haven’t really run properly all year, I wasn’t worried. There was 12 weeks to go till the envent. Plenty of time.
Then my mind slowly turned to the next event after that, the Beachy Head Marathon. Slightly different kettle of fish this, but I have run it before, it was 16 weeks or so away and with my usual level of misguided bravado I figured it would be alright.
That brings me on very nicely to the next event, the Wendover Woods 50 (WW50). This is 50 miles, not 50km. So its an ultra. And it was (at the time) 18 weeks away. It is now 16 weeks away!
Now bearing in mind I had hardly run all year, have put on almost 10kg in weight compared to when I was running regularly, this is clearly a slightly bigger fish to fry. For some unknown reason, I thought that this course was fairly flat. I even tweeted as such. You can read the fairly worrying responses to this tweet here.
Anyway, the long and short of it is that the WW50 is hilly. Sorry did I say hilly. I should have said HILLY. Sorry did I say HILLY. I meant HILLY. Apparently, it has approximately 10,000ft of elevation gain over 50 miles. If you consider that the South Downs Way 100 (twice the distance) has approximately 12,000ft of elevation change, this should give you an idea of just how hilly the WW50 is.
Rapidly I felt my previous bravado leaching away from me. In place of this bravado was abject panic. “Is it possible to train up from virtually nothing to 50 miles in 18 weeks” I thought to myself. Well there was only one way to find out.
Jump forward two weeks to the present day, and I have two weeks of training behind me. Two gruelling, punishing weeks where my body had to learn to run again. Even 30 minutes was hard. How was I ever going to run for upwards of 15 hours? Then it all came together in one beautiful moment, and I remembered why I love running so much.
Sunday was my “long run” day, so I headed up to the South Downs just north of where I live in Portsmouth, ready for a nice gentle 70 minute run on the trails. It was evening time, about 8pm. The light was perfect when I parked my car. It was still, quiet and beautiful.
The run started in the Sustainability Centre car park near East Meon. I was straight onto the South Downs Way and immediately heading uphill. For those of you who have not run on the South Downs Way, it is almost always either uphill or downhill. As I ran up the first hill I felt OK. In fact I felt a bit better than OK, I felt good. I reached the top of the hill and remember thinking “well you couldn’t have done that two weeks ago”.
As I plodded on, down single track running trails and descending a super steep rocky path, I felt good. I was running well. No aches and pains. Not feeling like I couldn’t breathe. It felt good.
Meon Springs
Running past Meon Springs fishing and campsite, I realised that I hadn’t passed a single other person. I hadn’t even seen a car, or heard a plane in the sky. No tractors or agricultural vehicles. Nothing. I was all alone on the South Downs with just cows, sheep and goats for company. The sun was dropping in the sky, bathing the countryside in a beautiful orange glow. I raised my hands up to the sky and was thankful. Just to be able to run in such a stunning place, to be able to do this, is magical in its own rights.
Reaching the bottom of Old Winchester Hill, I turned around and headed back the way I came. It is amazing how running the opposite direction always seems shorter to me, despite the fact that I had a very steep incline to walk up and it actually took me a little bit longer to get back.
Arriving back at the car park, I posed in the classic style of the wonderful @RunningDads on twitter (who is the master of this strange open mouth pose) and my run was complete. A total of a hilly 10km in just over 70 minutes. I’ll take that any day of the week.
So that is why I love running. All alone, sun setting in one of the most beautiful places on earth I was reminded that with training, you can condition your body to enable you to enjoy a 10km run. If you run in the right places, at the right times, you get a connection to nature and the outdoors which is second to none.
Hope you are all out there enjoying your running as much as I am.
It is 6.30am on Sunday 26th March and my alarm has just gone off. Must be time for the QE Spring Half Marathon, run by Second Wind Running.
Well I say my alarm has just gone off. This is not entirely accurate. I have a 4 year old who gets up at somewhere between 6am and 6.30am every day, so no need for an alarm really 🙂
I was looking forward to this race. Despite my training going nowhere near to plan due to injury and illness, I was feeling fairly fit and this hilly half marathon is a preparation run for Brighton Marathon in a few weeks time. No need to try and rush round, just turn up, complete the race uninjured and move on.
This race had been entered due to my friends Mike and Neil both signing up and persuading me to do so. Since then, they have both had to withdraw from the race due to injury, leaving me to it. No real drama, as they both run WAY faster than I do so would only have seen them at the start, and then again at the end. They would have been looking all lithe and fit and well rested as I hauled myself over the line hours after they have finished. So really a blessing in disguise I was going on my own, as I wouldn’t have to suffer that. 🙂
Queen Elizabeth (QE) Country Park is just up the road from where I live in Portsmouth. Nestled along the absolutely stunning South Downs Way, QE allows access to miles of mountain bike and running tracks, and is just about as nicer place as you could ever want to run. All except for one minor point. It is hilly. Very hilly!
One of the stunning views on the South Downs Way
Now I am not somebody who balks at hills. In fact I quite enjoy a hill. Those that are too steep for me to run up I simply walk up, meaning I get a well earned rest and can then fly down he other side of the hill like a mountain goat running away from a snow leopard. At least that is the idea anyway. Plus my ultra marathon that I have booked in June is along the South Downs Way, which means that any hill practice I get in now will hold me in good stead for that race.
Arriving at race HQ at around 9.15am for a 10.15am race start, I quickly registered and set about the tedious business of trying to pin my race number onto my vest. Luckily, I had the ever cheerful Dave Ludlam to talk to. Dave is a fellow member of Portsmouth Triathletes, and also a fellow blogger. His blog is well worth a read if you fancy it. You can find it here.I always enjoy talking to Dave and we were discussing his race schedule for this year, my race schedule and various other bits and bobs as I got prepared for the race.
Soon enough the race brief was upon us and we filed over to the race start. I had never run this race before, so didn’t know what to expect (other than hills), so the plan was to start slow and see how I got on. This plan worked perfectly, as soon after the start Dave and others were powering up the first switch-back style hill, as I slowly trundled along towards the back.
Once we submitted the first hill we were in the woods at QE, winding through well worn paths and out away from the park. The run was essentially either uphill, or downhill with very few flat sections. I was concentrating on just keeping it steady. Not worrying about the pace on my watch, just nice and steady.
After a few kilometres I caught up with Dave. We had a brief chat on how we were getting on before getting to yet another uphill, where I slowly moved away from him. I was feeling good at this point in the race and wanted to maintain a nice solid pace. On we climbed through another switchback and out into the sunshine at the top of the hill.
There are worse race carparks around!
The scenery around QE park, the Downs and the Meon Valley is simply stunning. On a warm morning in March there is nowhere better. Each turn presented another stunning view and I felt very privileged to be able to run in such a beautiful place. As we continued onwards I glanced down at my GPS watch, which seemed to be stuck, saying I had only run 2.79km. Oh well, I wasn’t planning on using it much anyway, so would just keep going.
Soon we were through the first aide station (at the 4.5 mile mark), manned by some cheerful volunteers. I was running with my race pack on (that I will use for all my marathons this year) so had water with me. There was no need to top up the bottle, so I just kept going. We were running through some great single track at this point and I had settled in with a group of runners who all seemed a similar speed to me. There was pink top lady, green jacket man and another lady with some very colourful trousers on. We would all take turns overtaking each other, but essentially seemed locked together. It is funny how this tends to happen in races. I never plan to stick with certain people, it just seems to naturally occur.
As the race wound on and I was feeling good. After 1 hour of running I had no idea how far I had gone (cause of the watch), but I felt really strong. The sun was beating down on me, but my legs felt great, my breathing was easy and I was running well.
Onwards and onwards, uphill then down again, I continued. At the second aide station (at the 9 mile mark) I stopped to top up my water bottle. It was really quite hot and my water consumption rate had risen. Luckily, I had run enough races to tell when I needed to drink more and had adapted my water intake accordingly. I had also taken a couple of energy gels by now to keep the energy levels topped up. These are great but sometimes give me a bit of a stomach ache. This would prove to be the case shortly.
As I approached around 2 hours of running I started to flag. We were out in the open. The wind was blowing and the sun was strong. I was running out of beans. Hardly surprising on the amount of training I had done, but never the less it was a problem. I decided to take my final energy gel, even through I had taken the previous one only 20 minutes before. Usually I have to leave it at least 30-40 minutes or I am guaranteed stomach ache; however this was not a luxury I had. I needed the energy boost. No sooner had I taken it than I got stomach cramp. I knew this would happen, so just kept on running. Concentrating on my breathing I got the cramp to pass, lifted my head up and got on with the race.
Shortly after this I was overtaken by a very fast runner. He was running the full marathon distance, which was two laps of the same course I was completing one lap of. Bearing in mind I had only been going for 2 hours, he was on for a very fast marathon time, as I couldn’t of been that far from the finish at this point. Impressive running indeed.
Making it back into the woods I recognised where we were. I often run the Parkrun at QE and we were at the bottom of the biggest hill that the Parkrun runs down. Turning right to head up that hill, I knew what a beast it was. The pink top lady from before was still with me, and she took the lead up the hill. We both had to walk in places. Boy was it steep. About half way up I gritted my teeth and decided I would just run. I knew how far we had to go to the top of th hill (about 150 metres), and knew once I was at the top there wouldn’t be much more of the course left. Powering up the hill, I left pink top lady behind. I was breathing heavily, but summited the hill without stopping.
Turning left, I knew I was on the final descent to the race finish. Picking up the pace on the downhill section I felt great. I was going to finish in less than 2hrs and 30 mins (which was my target). Not only that, I had run a good race. My hydration was good, my nutrition plan mostly worked and I had not got injured.
Down the final hill and across the line I was done. 2hrs and 22 minutes. Not bad. Most encouraging was that after the race results came out I finished 103rd out of 198 runners. No more finishing last for me. Perhaps I might make a go of this running thing after all.
Since deciding to take on the Ironman in 2013, I have increasingly gained a reputation as a distance endurance athlete. Those who knew me before 2013 and how I lived my life would laugh at this. Those who have met me after would know no different.
Never the less I often get asked why I run. Not only run, but run long distances or challenging races. So below are the top 5 reasons why I run.
I run to raise money for charity. I support Chestnut Tree House, a children’s hospice who cared for my friends daughter during her last days of fighting Neuroblastoma. This childhood cancer took her at the tender age of just 2 years old. Ever since I have raised money for Chestnut, who rely on fundraising just to stay open. You can read more about Ambers story here.
Running resets my brain. There is a quote I read once, which simply states “show me a man with a problem. Once he has run for 2 hours, he no longer has that problem.” Running give me time to think. To organise my thoughts and plan. It is wonderful headspace.
I feel 1000 times better when I exercise. It took me a very long time to get fit enough to be able to just go out and run. Not months, but years of effort to get to this point. But now I can just run for an hour without thinking about it, I rely on that exercise and my body seems to need it. We are, after all, Born to Run.
Running outside connects you to the world. Whether you are running on pavements through a city or town, or on trails through woodland or rolling hills, running connects you to that world. You see some amazing stuff whilst running. Things you would never normally see. It is a beautiful world out there when you run through it.
Pushing yourself to your limits makes you realise what you really can achieve. Each time you push yourself to your limits, you realise that you really don’t have any limits. When I started running I couldn’t even run to the end of my road. This year I am going to run 13 marathons and two Ultra marathons. Who knows where next year will take me. I feel truly limitless.
If you are reading this thinking to yourself that you could never be a runner, or that running isn’t for you, I would strongly encourage you to think otherwise. I genuinely was the worst runner when I started. I got injured. I consistently finished last in races. But perseverance and determination has opened up the world of running to me and it really is a wonderful world.
Plus, if it was easy, there would be no satisfaction in doing it. Right 🙂
So I have a cold. I’m a bit achey. My nose if running like mad. I am sneezing a bit. My throat hurts. It isn’t life threatening. It is not “man flu”. It’s just a cold.
“WHO CARES” I can hear you shouting at your screens before promptly closing down my blog and going back to Facebook. Well please stick with me readers, I do have a point.
You don’t need to spend a huge amount of time on Google before you discover that there is a wealth of information out there on exercising with a cold, and nobody can really make up their mind if it is a good idea or not. Most say “listen to your body”. Well if I listened to my body all the time I would be lying on the sofa eating Doritos. I’m not sure my body knows what it’s on about sometimes.
Yum
So if I am not going to listen to my body, what am I going to do. Listen to my head? Well my head says that I should allow myself time to recover. All well and good, but I do have a 21 mile cross country to run in only 13 days time (Meon Valley Plod – run by Portsmouth Joggers), so my head also says that I should be forgetting about this cold and getting my trainers on.
Of course, the flip side of putting my trainers on and getting out there is that I might take longer to recover from my cold if I go out training. If that is the case, I am risking not getting over the cold in the pre-requisite 13 days and then having to run 21 off road, muddy, likely chilly miles with a cold. This doesn’t sound very good either.
So what is the solution to all this? Well really it is a simple one. What you should do is procrastinate. Fill up your time with other stuff (like writing your blog, doing some meditation, looking on Wiggle etc) and that way by the time you get around to running it will be too late and you won’t be able to go.
All I need to do is follow this simple method for the next 13 days straight and I will be in perfect fettle for the Meon Valley Plod.
So it is now about 4 weeks since I got injured running the Hellrunner. Just a badly sprained ankle. It still hurts now, but I did manage to go out for a run at the weekend. I thought I would just do a couple of kilometres to ease myself in and ended up running 12. Still, I survived, and as long as I don’t try to change direction too quickly and stay on flat surfaces my ankle feels OK.
Whilst I had 4 weeks off running I thought I would concentrate on some other areas of fitness. Below are the 5 things that I have learn’t through this period.
1. I am very bad at losing weight through diet alone
I have been a lot more careful about what I am eating (well at least during the week I have been) and have managed to stop myself from putting on any weight. I haven’t gained any, but haven’t really lost any. I eat healthily in the week and it all goes flying out of the window at the weekend. This seems to maintain some sort of equilibrium; however I would not necessary recommend this method to anybody. Essentially I have been beating myself up about this quite a bit. Why can’t I just stay on course with a diet? Why do I sabotage myself? Why do I not care more. Luckily this moves me onto number 2
2. I should stop beating myself up so much
By way of a regular email update I receive from the superb Darin Olien website Superlife, I was directed to this article on the website of Nate Green website, simply entitled “Why is it so hard to stay consistent at the weekend?” It is well worth a quick read, but essentially says that it is easy to skip out on the healthy habits that you may have formed and be able to stick to during the week when you are out of routine at the weekend. Now I am an absolute MASTER at this, but took some comfort from the article and have subsequently adopted number 3 into my life
3. I have created myself a shortlist
This is a shortlist of things that I will endeavour to do each and every day in order to keep my healthy habits in check (as per the article above). The shortlist I have decided on is this:
Get 7-8 hours sleep every night
Do a minimum of 10 minutes meditation every day
Eat a vegan diet, with a minimum of one whole food plant based meal per day
30 minutes exercise per day
20 minutes of stretching/yoga per day
Work on your book / practice piano / updated your blog for 30 minutes per day
I should probably break these down a bit more to add a bit more context.
With two children under 4 this is not always in my control, but I will be going to bed earlier at a minimum
I have the Headspace App and this is easy to fit into even the busiest day.
I eat Vegan 99% of the time, but it is easy to eat a fairly poor vegan diet (chips, sandwiches etc). From now onwards I will make sure that one meal is whole food and plant based entirely. Nothing processed.
This can be either weights, running, cycling, swimming, whatever. Just must get my heart rate up for a minimum of 30 minutes
This will either be first thing in the morning or just before bed, but is essential as I do absolutely none of this now.
I have wanted to write a book about my Ironman exploits ever since completing it. I also have a piano and want to learn to play it, and should definitely be better at updating my blog. It’s only 30 minutes after all.
4. No more watching TV
Due to being injured I had a very good excuse to just flop on the sofa and do nothing every evening in front of the TV. I was getting really good at it too. Often I would fall asleep on the sofa and never even make it into bed. I was enjoying my lazy lifestyle far too much. So I decided no more TV. Since stopping watching it I have achieved far more every evening. So to allow the 6 things above to happen, TV has had to get out of the way. Do I miss it. Not one bit!
5. I can really achieve anything if I just go after it hard enough
You would think that somebody who has completed an Ironman would already believe this, and to a large extent I do. The difference now is that I spent time educating myself whilst I was off injured. Looking into the amazing feats of others. How do they manage them? What makes them different to me? You know what I realised? Nothing makes them different to me.
David Goggins
I have been hugely inspired by the stories of both David Goggins and Andrew Taylor. Goggins is an ex Navy Seal, and is widely considered the Toughest or Fittest athlete in the World. He held the world pull up record (over 4000 in 24 hours), ran a 100 mile running race with absolutely no training at all and has gone onto complete multiple ultra-marathons, triathlons, ultra-triathlons, bike races and arduous mountain ascents, setting new course records and regularly placing in the top five. His entire attitude is, you only fail if you don’t want it enough. The Rich Roll podcast with him on is absolutely worth a listen to if you fancy some inspiration from a truly remarkable person. The best part is, he is no different from you or I. He just wants it more!
Andrew Taylor is better known as “Spud Fit”. A genuinely fascinating antipodean who ate only potatoes for an entire year! He lost over 114lbs in weight, his health improved exponentially and most of all he survived with no adverse affects. That’s right, a diet of only potatoes for an entire year. Once again, dedication and a bit of self control and this crazy Aussie did something pretty damn amazing.
Andrew “Spudfit” Taylor
Both of these guys have reminded me that if you want extreme results, sometimes you have to go through extreme measures. I want to run 13 marathons in 12 months (including two ultra marathons now, not just one). To many this is pretty extreme, and perhaps it is. But I am going to go to extreme lengths to make it happen. I am going to train hard. I am going to focus. I am not going to beat myself up every day, but instead do something every day to move me closer to my goal. I am going to endure, through pain, through injury, through doubt, through fear, through whatever this journey throws at me and I will complete my marathon journey!
Just like Goggins and Taylor, if I want it badly enough I will be able to get it.
Now it’s off to the garage to lift some weights, then yoga, then meditation then bed!
TTFN
Snooky
PS – If you enjoy my blog please scroll to the top of the left hand column and share it on social media, or even better click the “Follow” button to be automatically updated when I update the site. It means the world to me, and the more shares the more likely I am to raise £1000’s for charity when I start my fundraising. Thank you all.
I have been a lot more careful about what I am eating (well at least during the week I have been) and have managed to stop myself from putting on any weight. I haven’t gained any, but haven’t really lost any. I eat healthily in the week and it all goes flying out of the window at the weekend. This seems to maintain some sort of equilibrium; however I would not necessary recommend this method to anybody. Essentially I have been beating myself up about this quite a bit. Why can’t I just stay on course with a diet? Why do I sabotage myself? Why do I not care more. Luckily this moves me onto number 2
Snooky's Adventures 