Back to the future

It is now only 3 weeks away from the Brighton marathon . My foot stopped hurting around 3 weeks ago. For the last 3 months I have been slowly upping my training, determined to be fit enough to run come April. Last year I underestimated how fast I would be able to run in my first ever marathon and placed myself in a slower pen.I spent the first half of the route running around people, by mile 22 my legs had cramped up from the quick slow intervals i had to endure at the beginning of the race.

Despite my legs disobeying the commands of my brain for the last 4 miles by shuffling, I finished in a completely unexpected time of 3.33, a full 27 minutes faster than I thought was possible. A combination of not knowing the pace I was running in training (no running watch), and a speed interval first half of the race, had helped me over achieve. The joy and sense of achievement was bliss. This, I hoped, would be the first of may races, building up to a ultra-marathon.  The I broke my foot and put on a stone of weight eating chocolate.

So I had to reassess my goals for 2014. First and foremost I needed to get out on the street and start building up to 5k. Rebuild my core strength in the gym and slowly over weeks push my distance out on the weekend.

This work will lay the foundation to (fingers crossed) allow me to finish the 2014 Brighton Marathon and build  up to the tough, hilly Trail Marathon Wales in June.

An unexpected birthday present

I was born on October 10th in the year of our lord 1978. It took until my 30th year to run my first 10k, jogging the flat beach path of Bournemouth in 50 minutes with the Chemical Brothers blaring in my ears. Encouraged, like many other runners I pushed out my distance and ran my first marathon in 2013.

The Brighton marathon was an amazing adventure, by far the biggest event I had run in, the experience of running with hundreds of runners felt truly magical. I managed a decent first time (3.33) and even had a consistent spell of over taking people before the pain kicked in at 21 miles. The last few hundred meters, with the crowd cheering was pure euphoria, shivers running down my spine like waves crashing against rocks.

After a summer off for the cricket season, I began training early September in preparation for the Portsmouth coastal marathon. I was excited by the new challenge of dealing with the hazards of a December marathon i.e. coastal gales and sideways rain.

By my birthday on October 10th training was going well. My training buddy and I (DT) had started hill rep training on a trail called 'ladder lane' in Swindon. Despite struggling to keep up with DT (Asthma and general unfitness) some progress was being made. Even though it was my birthday, and having the offer of a pub lunch, I decided to fit in an extra hills session.

Things started bad and got much worse. Early in the session I was struggling to keep up with DT and another work colleague called Duncan. On the uphill's, I laboured to breath in the heat of the midday sun. Whereas on the steep downhill's, I was simply not as quick or brave as the other guys.

Becoming more frustrated I decided to attack the next downhill with a little more gusto, despite the uneven ground and protruding tree roots. As I hurtled down the hill, I could see myself gaining on DT. Focussed on making up ground, my attention was momentarily diverted from the surface in front of me. With no brain telling it where to land, my foot decided that a stray root looked like flat land.

Unevenly placed, my foot took my full body weight and an audible crack cut through the autumnal air. Pulling up I reaslised something both unexpected and awful had happened.

Leaving DT and Duncan to finish their session, I limped the mile back to the office and then made my way to the hospital. After an X-ray my worse fears were confirmed. The momentum of the hill (and poor foot placement) had cause my tendon to fully extend, fracturing my 5th metatarsal.

I spent the rest of my birthday in plaster, contemplating if I would ever run again.