What comes up, must come down and sadly all good things do indeed come to an end.
After months of training, days of physio and hours of blogging my half marathon is over! I am sure that you were all hanging on the edges of your seats waiting in anticipation to find out if I made it past the finishing post in once piece. Wait no longer, for yes I very much did!
It is no secret that I was a little apprehensive about the event. Training aside my limbs didn’t really seem up to the task. Last week was fraught with angst, I didn’t dare to overdo it and I must admit that I even began to create some fantasy injuries in my head whilst worrying about the event. I did everything I could, I went on a short run on Wednesday, I iced my feet, I even started taking nuerofen three days prior to the event! I purchased a gel (tried and tested in a training run) and some new fetching socks. I hydrated and boy did I carb up. It was the perfect setting. Every evening without fail I religiously strengthened my ankles and “glutes” as per my physio’s request (ok I admit, 3 weeks ago I didn’t know what a glute was) and topped it all off by engaging in some cruel and unusual punishment in the form of my foam roller.
For all intensive purposes I was as ready as I would ever be. I had listened to recommendations and carefully ironed my name onto my t-shirt the night before and I had taken the time to make some rather dashing signage for our backs.
Sunday morning. Race Day. I was up at 6.30am to give myself time to eat a breakfast of champions, drink plenty of water and of course to strap up my darling princess feet. My sister arrived at 7.30 and off we went without a moment to spare for second guessing myself. Chauffeured by the hubby we picked up our other running buddy, Alexis, on the way and off we went... shivering just a tad in the cold morning air.
Before I knew it the time was upon me, the morning seemed to have flown past and there we were – having sampled the VIP tent and used the VIP port-a-loos I was already at the start line in the blue entry. There was no time to think because off the gun went and we were raring to go... Or rather 10 minutes of walking very slowly later we were waved off by our diehard fans in the shape of our family and started the run.
It turned into a gorgeous day and despite my feet shouting out in their drama queen ways the pain was only a constant 4/10 for most of the run. Lucky I listened to that wise person who advised me to put my name on my t-shirt because I felt like a true local celeb! All the amazing supporters spurred me on and I felt great! It was a perfect leisurely run, the sunshine was out and remarkably my sister Nikki & I didn’t run out of conversation topics. Mile 6 the real highlights began when we stopped for a grab & go hug from her beaming kids and my lovely in-laws and by mile 7 we were greeted by another wonderful cheer stop with my dad, other sister and gorgeous niece also waving a Cancer Research banner. Still grinning from our encounter imagine my delight when 200 metres later we heard our names being called by our aunt, uncle & cousin. We really were flying, having a whale of a time and I was not even concerning myself with the fact that my poor little knee was beginning to cry out in pain.
Like Eminem the 8th Mile was a little bit of a downer. The cheers started to subside a little as we started running through the park. Alexis’ words of warning came to mind - with all runners running in different directions you never quite knew whether it was worth trying to cheat and follow them, because you could wind up running back the way you came! But we needed to keep going, and going we kept on. With the sign of Mile 10 I must admit I was happier than I had been in a while, knowing we were on the home stretch. I knew that I would soon start wanting to get to the finish line and fast so I pulled out the old faithful tactic. The Power of Song. For every Race for Life I have ever run, at the 4km mark to keep Team LewNiK (family team) going out came the team running anthems – The Locamotion & Eye of the Tiger. It had to be done. It would have been foolish not to. So whilst my sister sifted through her IPod in a beautiful example of sensational multitasking, I belted out the Kylie classic. Luckily for all Nikki soon found the Rocky tune and my a capella efforts could come to an end!
All was going smoothly until the 11th mile. So close and yet so far. As we were running up a pretty unfortunately located hill I felt a little twinge in my “good” foot. This was soon followed by a slightly more insistent pounding sensation in my bad foot. A moment of panic set in when I thought of poor Leighton the Physio reminding me that stress can cause little bones in my feet to break. But in the back of my mind I knew I could break through the pain. How could I stop then? With all of the hours of training coupled with the fact that I already looked like a squashed tomato?
Just when I needed a boost there they were. Like an Oasis in the desert I saw them. 6 strapping young lads shouting out “Run Forest Run!” When they saw me, those wonderful young men changed their tune to “Run, Amy, Run!” Well I could have given them all big sweaty kisses because, failing a swimming pool & a cold drink, it was just what I needed. So there I was, slightly limping but still running & by this point rather bedraggled.
The last couple of miles were interesting. My pain had gone from a steady 4 to about 8 or possibly even 9 and the last stages seemed to be lacking sturdy supporters. That all changed at the 20k mark. Out in the thousands were Londoners, Northerners & even Foreigners of all shapes and sizes. Screaming for us. Pushing us to go on. And on we went. Finally at 400m to go we spotted our family all standing together 200 metres from the finish line. Whoever knew after running 13miles I was able to sprint all the way to them? Well, I did. I guess all that interval training finally paid off! After hugs from all my sister and I clasped hands and ran together across that finish line.
It was an emotional day. As much as my blog has been about the trials and tribulations of my training the underlying reason for the run has always remained the same. I signed up for a half marathon to raise money into Lung Cancer research. I had no idea how I could take my mom’s mind off what she was going through and foolishly thought by putting my body through hell I could show some solidarity whilst she bravely faced the horror of chemotherapy. Never once did I think she would not be there at the finish line. Luckily for me the crowd, and my sister, pushed me forward. I don’t know what my mom would have said to me had she been there that day, although I can probably guess. I do know however, that if she had seen my sister & I running across that line holding hands and hugging in jubilation & sadness at the end she would have been very proud. There is nothing that can ever change the fact that she has left a huge gaping hole in all of our lives but there is much solace in the knowledge that we have the support of friends and of course, each other.
I have been overwhelmed by people’s interest in what I have been doing and certainly by the amount of money that I have raised. Thank you for all your support. It has been a pretty awful year and a very interesting journey to running the Royal Parks but I am delighted that I did it. Who knows, perhaps if my doctors give me the go ahead, next year I might try to run it without an injury... watch this space!
Ps don’t worry, you can still sponsor me!
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AmyWoolf
