Everything Hurts.......But I Feel Fine

We arrived in New Milton on Saturday and after a busy week at work I felt exhausted, headachy and footsore. Why on earth had I signed up for this? And how on earth did I think I was going to get out there and do it the next day? Luckily an afternoon lie down and quick walk to the shops blew away the headache, and I dragged myself away from "Heroes" for an earlyish night which did the trick. Sunday morning I woke up not exactly breezy but certainly better than I had felt all week.

The lovely thing about doing this race was Chris' family literally live round the corner, so there was no mad pre-race dash to find the venue and get changed. Just a gentle stroll to the high street and watch the organisers trying to sort out the champion chip technology and see the Marathon runners go off. I was glad I wasn't among them and was feeling very cheery as I waved goodbye to Chris and the children and made my way to the start. In the queue for the toilet I met a very friendly woman called Sara and as we waited for the klaxon sounding the start, all my pre-race jitters went and I began to believe I might just enjoy myself. Before I knew it we were off, I had a fleeting glance of the children and Chris madly waving and we were heading up the High St and out of town. It helped that I had run this way in my practice, so I felt comfortable with the gallop up the hill. My running companion was wanting to go a little fast and so I let her go off and settled into a pace that suited me. "Run on Peacemaker" I thought and wondered how Zoughbi Zoughbi and John Dear were doing.(see previous posts) John has a court case on at the moment, so I hoped he was alright. Before I knew it a mile had flashed past in just under 10 minutes, I didn't feel too puffed, my foot wasn't too sore. This felt easier than I thought it would. But could I keep up the pace?


The sun came out but there was a nice breeze and we were soon racing through Bashley and past the pub where I had turned off in my practice run. I was beginning to get very hot so was grateful when we ran into the woods proper and hit the 3 mile mark and a water station. The forest was beautiful, the trees were tall and elegant, there were quiet glades on either side of the road and I spread my arms out in appreciation of my surroundings. I couldn't help saying out loud "Wow, this is wonderful" and a couple of runners beside me laughed in agreement. I was still running a 10 minute mile pace and felt really comfortable, if I kept this up, I might hit my best case scenario of 2 hrs 15. But it was a long way to go and a big if, so I kept my head down out of the woods, and on to the moorland and up a hill. And boy what a hill. It started gently enough, then got steeper, curved round so you thought you'd got to the top, only to discover it went up some more, turned right and gently sloped up for another half a mile. The only good points were the sun had gone behind a cloud, so it wasn't as hot as it could be, and half way up I saw the place where the Marathon runners had turned off to do their extra 13 miles. At least I wasn't going that far. I was glad I had done all that hill training but it was hard work and to my annoyance I found myself singing a song from a children's story that had been driving me mad all week. "Never Give Up, Never give up, something will turn up, things always turn up" had a very soothing rhythm to it and it really helped. Oh the shame.......

When I was near the top I could see a trail of runners ahead of me, I looked back and there were still quite a lot behind, which was quite encouraging. The sight of all these people running with a single purpose, made me think "Run on Peacemakers" again, if only everyone was running with that thought. And it reminded me that one of these days I might just get round to organising a peace race.Once on top of the moor the sun came out so I was grateful for another water station and oh, blessed relief, sponges. The marshals were really cheerful and encouraging as they always are on these occasions and I ran on much refreshed, as I had been feeling a little sick which is always a bit of a worry. The only downside was half a mile later when I was hit by a desperate need for the loo. I dashed off at a likely spot, wasted precious time looking for a place where I could not be seen and hoped to goodness noone had (now I know how those naked bike riders must feel). When I rejoined the run, it felt like I had slipped quite a bit farther down the pack, but before I could worry about that I was faced with the hill from hell. It was as steep as my steepest local hill which is always hard going, but it felt twice as long. There was nothing for it to keep on upwards, but it was hard work. I overtook a couple of people at the start, but they soon overtook me back and by the time I stumbled to the top the refreshing drinks and sponges were a distant memory. Still, I got to the top and didn't walk so that was something.

The next stretch was across more beautiful moorland and my spirits rose as I knew the half way point was approaching. Soon after I hit 6 miles I saw a herd of New Forest ponies racing ahead, an uplifting sight. To celebrate the moment I pulled out a peace flag and ran with it outstretched till I turned the corner and realised to my delight I was heading homewards. The next stretch was great as I knew the road and another herd of dappled grey ponies were running ahead of me as if in encouragement. But my spirits dipped pretty quickly when I checked my watch and realised I'd slowed down, and then hit a drinks station and realised there were not going to be any sports drinks. I knew I should have checked, but I had foolishly assumed they would be available. Somehow the knowledge that I would have to get home on the strength of my breakfast immediately sapped my energy. And knowing that I had another hill facing me before we turned off to go through the village of Tiptoe, sapped it even more. A brief thought that perhaps I could stop and walk crossed my mind, but I dismissed it instantly. I know me, if I walk that's it, I'll never run again. I had to keep running because it was the quickest way back. But it was tough, and the turning point seemed to take an age. At last it arrived and I realised I was at 8 miles, and there was probably no way I could maintain my early optimistic pace. So it was dig deep time and keep going up another slow hot hill. Everything was beginning to hurt, and my spirits were really flagging, so I took a moment to think about the people in Zimbabwe, in Colombia, in Palestine, in Sudan and Uganda. As I have said before on this blog, it is humbling to know that so many people are willing to work for peace when they risk arrest, imprisonment, intimidation and even death, running a half marathon was a much easier prospect, even if at this particular moment every muscle was screaming.

When I turned the corner I was back on a road that I ran during training, which was great, except I had forgotten how long it was. A couple of people passed me and said, "We're on track for 2.5 hrs like last time" and I realised I had really slowed down. The sun was really hot and I was desperate for another drink, but just as I was beginning to despair, a cool breeze blew up from nowhere. "Breathe on me, breath of God, fill me with life anew" I sang to myself, and somehow I was. And then there was another sponge and water station and I was through Tiptoe and back on the road to New Milton. As I got onto the road I was passed by a truck with a large digital clock saying 2 hrs 20 minutes, which would have been a bit depressing except it was the truck for the Marathon and signalled a super fit athlete passing me by on his way to Marathon glory (2hrs 38 mins apparently, not quite the course record, but still an excellent time). I was quite cheered to see him go past, I find myself simultaneously awed and inspired by these elite athletes, and having run the distance in training, I also knew exactly how far I had to go, 3 miles to be exact.

I was cheerful for precisely a minute, until I realised that for some reason they were letting the traffic through. So the narrow road was suddenly filled with runners in single file and traffic on both sides of the road. OK, so the cars couldn't go fast, but it was absolutely hideous sensing their engines revving behind you and in several places having to scramble out of the way to let them pass. Not the nicest way to finish a race, particularly when it went on for a mile and a half. Luckily when we turned off for Stem Lane, we were directed through a shady footpath which was a very welcome change. The footpath didn't last long, but we were able to run on pavement after that, though it felt very very long. I was starving hungry, my legs were like lead, but knowing I was near the end,I gritted my teeth and kept going. And finally we turned into Gore Road, and there were spectators again. I kept looking out for Chris and the kids and suddenly they were there, so I pulled my peace flag out again. The children jumped up and down cheering and said "It's the wrong way up!" I turned it the other way "Now it's back to front!" I turned it again and Chris got a (very poor) photograph and rushed to the end where I collapsed over the line and dashed to the drinks table where I gulped down 3 drinks of orange squash in quick succession before shakily making my way to meet the family.

As for my time, after all that it was 2 hrs 30 mins and 20 secs. Pretty slow for a half marathon, and slightly slower than I hoped. But despite everything hurting, despite the fact I was beaten by a skier with a toboggan, 2 people doing a 3 legged race, and all but 150 other runners, I felt fine. I had managed to run all the way despite missing 1/3 of my training, so that's a bit of a result. So I may not be the fastest long distance runner, but at least I go the distance.

And of course I did it with the International Peace Fund in mind. It is not too late to sponsor me so please do go to the website and donate today http://www.for.org.uk/peacerunner

This will be my last post, although I may direct you to photographic evidence when the marathon photos people have them on line. But before I sign off, I would like to say a huge thank you to all the people who have supported me along the way, Nick and Martha at FoR, my twin sister Jules, all my lovely work colleagues, particularly Colin and Julian, and of course Chris, (without whom nothing is possible), and our lovely children. When you do a run like this, you think, never again. But already, sore thighs notwithstanding, I am trying to work out my next big race, which will hopefully be injury free and speedier. Until that time - thanks for your patience and support. Run on Peacemakers Run On.