Saturday October 11, 2008

The last thing I needed before an event is to get ill

Well the last thing you need when training for such an event is to get ill. Tetanus injection, that's all it was, apparently I'd not had one for eleven years and now was catch up time. I suppose it was just one of those things, could never have predicted the consequences for doing the right thing. You see the nurse informed me that there was a seventy percent chance that I would suffer some side effects from the serum, fortune telling now jumping out as her next promising career. Bang, Whack, Wallop, it hit me for six, felt so weak I struggled to walk to the loo, never mind running anywhere. The whole ordeal took me a good few days to get over it, don't know why people say that, a very weird figure of speech that one, "a good few days", believe me there was nothing good happening during said days, I felt huge fatigue, several bouts of boredom and between you and me (everyone else reading this, whoever you may be), I found the whole duration increasingly and incredibly frustrating. Wanted to run but was told to rest, even my girlfriend told me to take it easy and I must admit, I find it's best if I do what she says.


Phew! That was a close one but I'm back, in good health and raring to go, ready to be unleashed back into the world of marathon training. My next target was to attempt to run at least nine, maybe ten if carried miles. This would be the maximum amount that I would have run since April 2007. Got myself all worked up for this, I knew I could do it, well that's what I was telling myself anyhow.

Sweating heavily, out of breath, ready to drop, not too much left in the tank now. This was me seven to eight miles in to the run. I wanted to stop and just let the fatigue and aching joints get to me so much but, knew that I had to try and keep going, try to focus as much as I can on getting to the end, reaching my target. At my right side I could see Michael looking quite comfortable with his pace. Why wasn't I feeling like this? Did I really have what it takes to do this? So, so many questions were going through my head, part of me, somewhere deep inside my psychosis, was trying to answer them. It is amazing what you think about when you run, I always give the same answer, anything and everything, I find that way there's plenty of scope for people that want their answer's more specific.

"The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of Music", that's what the song says anyway. Not the hills (slightly steep ramps really) I encountered while running through Kensington Gardens. Mountains I tell you, Everest, K2, the other ones that most of us always have trouble remembering, they had nothing on these monsters. My mind was telling me to shut up and concentrate on the job ahead but all I could do was buy my ticket, sit in the dress circle and witness the operatic performance, I could hear a voice inside my head singing with such force and intensity "The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of Pain". All this dramatic exaggeration was just my legs letting me know that they weren't used to this, anything uneven, steep or un-flat had become nothing but a stranger to them. After all it has been a long time since the two were acquainted.

Through blood sweat and tears, well ok no blood, I was gaining more pace and seemed to be chasing that invisible pick-pocket, anything helps when you've just ran nine miles therefore, coming so close to the finishing point. Michael was giving me tons of encouragement and pushing me just that extra mile (not literally) to get to the end. Really does help when someone believes in you, helped me anyway. That extra burst of motivation got me to ten miles, in the end I managed to run ten point three miles in all. With the half marathon coming up, I thought maybe I could do this after all.

Our next run was meant to be just a leisurely five miles, or so I believed. No, nothing so simple, this was going to be at pace, a speed run, something that was really beginning to grate on my mind keeping up with Michael was never going to be an easy task but I didn't envisage how much hard work I would have to do, the pain my legs were going to feel, the breathlessness I was going to have to endure. I'll give it a go though.

Takes me at least two miles, roughly twenty minutes to warm up. By the time we finish I'd be ready to go. Had to work around this problem somehow, just had to put on my strategizing hat and get on with it. We completed five miles in around forty five to fifty minutes. Was difficult, was problematic, was extremely tiring but I had shown I could do it. Something to think about, to be proud of and to believe in I thought.

Days were disappearing, nights were going faster, only a couple of weeks to our big day no, not a wedding, the half marathon, with almost the same amount of preparation needed. Michael and I knew that we had to keep on track (quite literally) so, we focussed on completing eleven miles. Ten miles almost killed me so this time there was sure to be a double funeral! Whilst training, Michael was demonstrating to me the importance of stretching before and after a run. How flexibility played a crucial role in achieving such an objective. I learned that it helps prevent injury and creates better breath control for your organs therefore, enabling them to get the right amount of oxygen they need and simultaneously keeping your muscles and joints supple and less tense. All in all, the perfect recipe for marathon success!

I was getting excited; I could bend and stretch a lot easier than I could a couple of months ago. On top of that I was beginning to reach my toes, an accomplishment all by itself, for me anyway.

A change of scenery was needed for me to be able to complete the eleven miles. Michael had this inspired idea to take the route down a different path, this would take in segments of the street, a scenic excursion along the canal and finishing off the last few miles in the park. All was going to plan up until our canal adventure, we were about to run under one of the tunnels that grace the canal when, Michael had noticed that the path had become flooded. We hadn't many options at that time; we chose to not dirty our trainers but to crawl along the wall alongside the canal, as you can imagine, a gradual process to say the least. My knees were killing me as I ushered myself along the hard brick wall, trying not to think of the pain my knees were being introduced to. With the canal on my left and my desire to stay dry, it was a priority for me not to fall in, I can swim a width but I didn't want to test out that theory or put it into any kind of practice. Eventually we made it to the end of the wall, a little scathed but dry, had a good laugh about it afterwards, never seemed that funny at the time.

Back on track now, we were reaching nine and a half miles; I was just starting to tire, to slow down. Michael was pushing me with such enthusiasm and complete gusto to never give up, use whatever I had learnt up to then to carry on till the end. I believe the clock said eleven point three miles in two hours and six minutes. Under two miles to go, I was going to finish the half marathon. Very excited about the big day now.

Five miles again, another speed run, keeping up with Michael a little easier this time, still very hard but slightly more manageable. I'm getting better, can only improve now, I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Bring on that half marathon; bring on the twelfth, thirteen point one miles left to go, I guess I'll see you all at the end. If and when I make it, you'll be the first to know.

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