Is it real gold?

I achieved my goal and ran 26.2 miles along the roads of London in under four hours.  My friends, family, and even strangers have most generously contributed to the YMCA and helped me to smash my fundraising target.   It is a worthy cause, the YMCA helps with young people who don’t get the support that the vast majority of us can take for granted, those who have led a life in care, who have been homeless, imprisoned, and come from fragmented families.  Many of my donations came from the staff of YMCAs around the country who give young people a home, a place to call their own, and the chances they need to take to help themselves, to learn, to work, to thrive.  It is a fantastic testament to the charity that its staff are willing to raise the money and do the work for this, a cause they understand and utterly believe in.

Running the London marathon was something that I’d dreamt about since I watched it on TV each year before-, and then racing back after- Church.   I could see it was a real and significant achievement.  Since Christmas (and a little before) I had put in the miles in practice.  I almost peaked too early in my eagerness and so sought to elongate my running plan to make the most of this opportunity – to actually run the London marathon myself.  I am so glad that I put in that extra effort.  Rather than simply building up my fitness over 16 weeks, I had an opportunity to consolidate and build up reserves that I could draw upon.

As the day came closer, I allowed myself the occasional moment of optimism, I may even get a good time.  Having aimed for four hours for so long, I began to nudge my target closer to three hours thirty minutes – for which I would need an absolutely perfect run, or more realistically three hours forty minutes.  However, I knew the chances of a perfect run happening once would be slim.  I knew that on the day my performance would most likely depend on how well I felt.  I had experienced what is commonly called ‘runners tummy’ on several of my long practice runs, so this was what I feared may happen and ruin the day.  I wouldn’t be the first nor the last to be ill whilst running a marathon and in recent years we have seen runners drop out because of illness, and memorably the great British runner, Paula Radcliffe, has been waylaid with ‘upsets’ along the 26.2 miles of the course, sometimes with exhaustion.

It was supposed to be a hot day, so finally I relented and put on the YMCA vest I had been given for the Great North Run, but never worn.  I really should support the charity who gave me a place in the marathon.  Never mind how my shoulders look (I really don’t have the physique for a vest – neither tall and strangely, not thickset and muscular)  there would be plenty of people dressed up in worse outfits than mine.  Nevertheless, it rained at the start as we lined up.  Would I look silly wearing my sunglasses instead?

There is a scene from the WestWing just before President Bartlet takes part in the Televised debate with Senator Richie.  He had lost his lucky ‘game’ tie.  Mrs Bartlet in wishing him good luck, apologises to him for not doing enough to help him prepare, before cutting off his tie.  His adrenalin level shoots up like a car revving before the startline as he grabs another tie from his support staff whilst marching to the auditorium.  As I sought for the marathon course that I had downloaded onto my watch, with the pre-set time of just under 8:3 minutes per mile, I couldn’t find it, and instead managed to start a workout that would last 26.2 miles if I was cycling on a bike at a much faster pace than I could run.  As we walked forward to the starting line, the gun had already gone off, I was trying to cancel that programme, change back into a runner, and set a pace I could achieve.  I managed it just as we turned the corner and I saw the start.

And then we were off.  I was very pleased that I had ‘trialled’ the course when I ran my longest practice run, from Blackheath to Bank.  The familiarity, and the extra speed, helped the distance to slip by.  However, I was held up by runners in front of me.  There was little room to get past.  Where I really needed to I did call out ‘excuse me’, drop my arms and slip through a small gap.  I was careful not to push people, and certainly didn’t want to cause anyone to stumble and fall, so I didn’t dart about from side to side.  Neither did I want to set off too fast, nor sprint forward to get past the crowds, and quite frankly there were a lot of people to get past if I had started sprinting.  As we turned to go past the Woolwich Dockyard I really struggled to get past the Runner’s World 9 minute per mile pace group.  That was a big crowd.  Why were they ahead of me?

Looking back at my split times for every five kilometers I held a good steady pace, a speed which turned out to be able to take me around and get in for under four hours.  Since this was the time I was aiming for, they had put me in the right speed group at the start.  But this was no longer my natural pace.  I was comfortable, although I knew there was a fair distance still to go.

My fuel and hydration strategy was working perfectly.  I hadn’t crossed the line and dashed for the nearest toilet as I have done on previous half-marathons.  This time the course designers had very wisely put the toilets just before the start line, rather than just afterwards, but I didn’t need to stop.  I had followed the advice given to me by Joel from Lucozade Sport and ensured I was fully hydrated three hours before the race, and then I wouldn’t need to drink just before starting.  I had taken a gel just before starting, and then another at mile 7 having just passed the Cutty Sark, another landmark of my childhood.   But by mile eight I was feeling unwell.  There was no queue for the toilet, but I decided I could press on and the feeling might just pass.  Into Rotherhithe where I had not gone before, the unfamilarity of this part of the course stretched the distance for me.  However, I came across a fellow runner from St Alban’s Striders who was keeping up a good pace.  I overtook him, but wasn’t sure that I would lose him.  At this stage, I was spending less time looking to overtake.

I saw him again as we crossed Tower Bridge, and then I caught up with him again at the halfway point, just after mile 13.  However, as we turned towards Canary Wharf and the Isle of Dogs I was hit by stomach cramps.  I needed to stop, so I did, just before mile 15.

My friends were lined up at mile 15 and shouting “Stephen Matthews” so I wouldn’t miss them!  This gave me a much needed boost, and once again I was moving on, overtaking people where I could.  I know various people who said they would be on the Isle of Dogs looking out for me, but I didn’t know exactly where.  Amongst the fantastic crowds of people lining both sides of the road, I may well have seen them, but I didn’t notice them as I ‘sped past’ (their words not mine).  Then weaving through Canary Wharf at mile 19 I wasn’t looking for friends, I was trying to spot the next toilet block.

I had lost some good time.  A number of other runners had passed me.  But now, at least, I was well again.  I picked up the pace and gained a spring in my step.  For the next couple of miles, in particular, the walkers were the biggest hurdle.  I was passing people once again, and felt so much better than I had.  I did wonder if it wasn’t that I was going faster so much as other people were going much slower, but I felt like I was moving along nicely.  Breaks aside, this could be a negative split.  If this were correct, it would have become my habit!  Looking back on my times for each 5 kilometers I was actually going slower, but by less than a minute.  Without toilet breaks, I was running a very steady race.

I was confident after my 22 mile practice run (admittedly a slow run) that when I got to Tower Hill for the second time, I would be fine.  I was looking forward to running along the embankment.  I passed several more members of St Alban’s Striders, cheering both them and the crowd from the club as I passed.  The last three miles, three hundred and eighty five yards (for the Queen) were great.  I felt like I was bouncing along.  I kept up the pace knowing I’d prefer this to having kept a sprint finish in the tank when I finished.  Then, along Birdcage Walk I spotted ahead of me, the St Alban’s Strider I had last overtaken at mile 13, and had long given up on the chance of catching.  But I did overtake him once again.  I had done enough to overcome the delay caused by my breaks.  (At this stage, I like to assume that he hadn’t needed to stop).

Ymca, everyone's doing the 'Y'

Then, turning past Buckingham Palace to the finish I saw the clock was only marginally over four hours, and I calculated that it had taken me longer than this to cross the start line.  I had done it.  I didn’t need a sprint finish, so I settled for a quick finish.  And I achieved a time of 03:56:13!

I later learned that of the New Balance Team, Tina achieved her target and ran under three hours.  Harnish, Laura and Barbara were marginally outside their target times and all very pleased with their results.  Chris was just slightly ahead of me until halfway, when cramp got the better of him and he did an amazing job to finish with dogged determination and a combination of walking and jogging.

At least on the following Monday I was able to run 13 or so miles (and in a good time) which marked a notable reduction in the distance of my long-run.  I thought reducing the distance, and number of times that I ran – increasing my rest – would be sufficient.  However, I wanted to keep up the intensity of my speed sessions.  So, on Tuesday, club night, I ran around the track doing mile repeats, and then 400m repeats.  It was a good session.  I covered over 6.5 miles.  I even beat the chair a couple of times, and she is a good runner!    I had sort of advanced to the back of the second fastest group.  However, I probably ran around the track in one direction too many times. The following day I could feel that my right lower calf muscle was tight.  I eased off for a day.

I then ran a tempo session on Thursday, but after four miles I stopped. I could feel my calf tightening dramatically.  Since then I have enforced a period of rest.  It is a crying shame with such wonderful weather, not a cloud (not jet plane) in the sky and I can’t run around for miles in the countryside.

I’m about to go out now and try a gentle run.  I have two running schedules that I am balancing off of each other.  One suggests 12 miles, the other 5.  I’ll try five and see if I get any further, but I don’t think I’ll do 12 miles this evening.

It was an opportunity to practice my nutrition, and I drank Lucozade Sport and took my Gels.  I’ve just read how I should ‘sip’ the gels but I downed them each in one go.  I took them where they will be handed out on the day.  I don’t know if it was my improved nutrition (I took two 550ml bottles rather than my usual 330ml bottle).  I felt like I could manage the further miles but I needed to get home when I reached Bank station.  I know the route from Tower Bridge to Buckingham Palace and its a good stretch which, if I have the energy, I should be able to bounce along at a good pace.

So, this brings an end to my last ‘intensive’ week.  I’ve managed a recovery run on two days, in addition to my scheduled sessions.  I missed only one run, a tempo run that I forwent in return for a night in with my wife and a delicious green curry that she cooked. I don’t suspect that I will get out tomorrow, she’s cooking again.  I’ve added up my total miles for the week and found that I have run over 50 miles!  Now, it is time to reduce the distance that I am running with confidence.

This morning started with a four mile easy (recovery) run.  It took me just over 30 minutes to cover the same route that I took on Monday, enabling me to run under 8 minutes per mile without stretching myself too much.  It felt like a good strong run, with enough at the end to power up the hill and run fast (not quite sprinting) alongside the cathedral.

Then this evening was track night with St Alban’s Harriers.  Tonight we did a fartlek.  This is, I believe, Swedish and basically consists of a steady run with efforts.  We ran it in a pyramid.  It sounds confusing.  We ran for 2.5 minutes at tempo pace, then for 2.5 minutes jogging, then 3 minutes at pace, and 3 minutes slow and so on, increasing by half a minute each time until we got to 5 minutes.  Oh, and at various points we turned around too.  At least this is what I think we did.  I thought I’d set my watch to record how we ran, but when I got home it hadn’t recorded a thing.  I know we ran for 45 minutes.  And I know I ran a good tempo speed each time we ran fast.  Indeed, I think I was getting faster as the night progressed.  It is a shame I don’t know how fast I was going, but I had my eyes on some of the faster runners and eventually I was keeping up with them, and they weren’t passing me each time.  I think we must have covered around 5 miles, at least if I add in the warm up laps too.

It surprised me; that I could give the speed session on the track a good attempt without feeling overly tired having also run this morning.  So, despite the rain putting a dampener on the whole evening, my spirits are still high.

Two railway lines

I set off, stepping out of the house into torrential rain.  I went back inside.  I emptied all my pockets and put all I was carrying into my fully-waterproof top.  No lightweight number for such a downpour. And by the time I had done this, it had stopped raining: it was only a shower.  Still, I wasn’t going to change again, so carrying a little extra weight I set off.  The clouds were still dark gray and it could open at any point.  In fact, it didn’t rain until I had passed Hatfield, which was about one third of the way around my course.  By this point I had embarked upon another adventure.  Running through Welwyn Garden City was a new addition to other routes that I had taken before.  I ran first along the Alban Way – a disused railway line that I often run along.  Then from Welwyn to Wheathampstead I ran along the Ayot Greenway – another disused railway line that I have run along once before.  Such routes are excellent for long runs.  The trails are not usually too muddy – unlike last week’s run through the woodland – and they are level, whilst covering some good distance through the countryside.  I am blessed to have three such routes now within reach of my long runs.

I have, however, kept up my running, and the more I run the longer it takes.  Preparing for a marathon does kind of take over your life.  I’ve continued to run around 20 miles on Saturdays (although last Saturday I only managed 16 miles.  I took a wrong turn and then didn’t feel so good, so I didn’t add the extra miles back on and I headed straight home (although this still took six miles).  I’m still trying to get used to the strong sweet taste of the Lucozade products that I’ll be offered on the London Marathon.  I thought I was getting the hand of it, but not this week.

I am now a slither of the person I was.  I’ve even cut out flapjacks (once I saw that most contain around 20g of fat).  Now I wonder if I’m not eating enough to keep my energy up and I’m looking forward to carbo-loading.  I don’t know whether I’ve lost the 5-6kg that Professor Brewer recommended, but I look better than I’ve ever done.

I must include a quick eulogy to St Alban’s Striders, my running club.  On Tuesday and Thursday I leave work on time (early according to every other night of the week) to ensure that I can get out on the track or join in the 8:30 minute pace group as we run for 8 miles in the dark.  It is great not having to plan every part of my running schedule. It is reassuring to know that even in the pouring rain there will be others there, with my, putting the miles in.

So, I’ve continued to put together some intensive sessions, running five times a week, including a long run, a steady run, a speed session on the track, what would be a five-mile easy run if it wasn’t for the rucksack on my back, and a tempo session in the gym.  Perhaps it is no wonder that on some of these sessions I’ve begun to flag a little.  I think I miss the flapjacks most, and hope it all comes together after I’ve done my next few weeks tapering.  Almost 4 weeks to go.  Perhaps my biggest remaining challenge is to get up to my fundraising target.  That’s losing a little momentum too.

a dashing young man!

Bath has a nice flat course over two laps – so you get used to where you are going – and this can help runners achieve some good times.  I achieved a personal best with 1:43.  This even included a toilet stop and my garmin watch suggested that I had run 13.22 miles (0.12 more than there should have been).  This distance was verified by Chris (also using a garmin watch) and if anything, I was cutting the corners, nor weaving around making my route longer.

I was pleased with my performance, a classic negative split.  I just kept increasing the pace, and it felt comfortable.  At least the pace was comfortable, although the blisters on my foot and the tightening of my calf were a little less than comfortable.  It was freezing on the starting line.  Next time I’m definitely aiming to stand in the sunshine.  Then, once I was running, I was warm.  It was a good race and I’m pleased with my time.  I’d like to try running for a time and setting off toward the front of the race so I can begin at a good pace, another time.  Right now, getting a personal best in what really constitutes as a training run is an excellent result.  I think I may get through the London Marathon in under four hours yet.

Now I’ve signed-up.  I’ve paid my dies, completed the membership form and put it in the post.  Who would have thought it: I have become a club runner!  I so enjoyed the solitude of my weekend runs (and to be honest I still enjoy this) but on Tuesday and Thursday nights, club running suits me.  It is easier running at night whilst in a group; it gets me out in the rain (although when it was torrential I went to the gym rather than the track).  So this running bug may have really taken hold.  Perhaps I have become addicted!  I don’t think I’m addicted to running marathons though, thats too much like hard work.  Just the one will do, thank you.

Last week was meant to be a light week, designed to let my body recover from an intensive three-week training cycle in which I upped the mileage in preparation for the marathon.  With my knees aching I wondered how I would up the intensity again.  Then, I looked over the diary I have been keeping, the food I’ve eaten listed alongside the miles I’ve run.  I added up the miles for last week, the light week.  It was 45 miles again.  All I had done was shorten my long run from 22 to 16 miles and redistributed the miles during the week.  So, I had managed four intensive weeks.  No wonder my knees ached, they hadn’t rested.  So this week would have to be the lighter week.

I took it easy at the gym on Tuesday night.  I used the cross-trainer to minimise the impact on my knees.  I didn’t want to miss running altogether. So 10 minutes on the cross-trainer, 10 minutes on the treadmill, and another 10 minutes on the cross-trainer.  It was the equivalent of an easy 30 minute run, rather than an intensive session.  I was away on Wednesday helping to establish our fledgling communications network that brings interested YMCA staff together from across the country, to provide mutual support and help coordinate our collective and national voice so that we may speak in favour of young people and raise the profile of the excellent work done by YMCAs across the country.  We met in Worcester, it was a four hour train journey to get there.  There was no chance I would run to work that day.

Another long run into new territory

Through snow, showers and sunshine I ran.  This week’s long run again took me further than I have ever run before.  On Saturday mornings I plot a new course to places I have not been before, then with my pockets stuffed with maps printed from www.mapometer.com I set out, come snow or sun.  Yesterday, it was snowing. I must keep going if I am to  run the London Marathon, and after some 20 miles this is a mantra I repeat as I put one foot in front of the other, and keep pushing on.

I’d call this discipline, but this word has negative connotations, particularly for those young people who may have felt the rough edge of discipline in school or at home.  We have therefore adopted the term ‘stick-ability’ to represent a continued focus on a desired goal, the commitment to achievement, the resolution to stay the course.  The YMCA have just appointed a couple of young researchers to consult with a broad range of young people about what really makes a difference to their lives.  Armed with a set of ‘capabilities’ cards each suggesting a different concept of character – such as self-esteem, the ability to hold a conversation, the ability to negotiate, responsibility and stick-ability- our young consultants will run a series of focus groups through which they will stimulate discussion about what capabilities or characteristics support young people in making a succesful transition to independent (or interdependent) adulthood.

I recently heard a story about a woman who would, on her daily run, pass a homeless hostel. Standing around the door, the guys used to wave and cheer her on.  One day, she stopped by and asked if anyone wanted to join her.  The centre now has a running club, and those who live in the hostel thank her for giving them something to aim for, a sense of progress and a feeling of achievement, of fulfilment, that they are also benefiting from in other parts of their life.

For now, I will stick to running for the YMCA, for raising money and awareness about the excellent work that this charity does for young people, many of whom would otherwise be homeless.  And I look forward to seeing if stick-ability makes the final cut as young people determine what ten capabilities are most important in their lives.