Moving Meditation - Grief - I am older than you now...

My breath comes sharply and a pain in my chest tells me I’m finding it hard. It’s not the running but a thought that has invaded my brain and it knocks me off kilter.

I am the age you were when you died. 

I am the age you were when you died! How has this happened?! Not the general age, 38, but the exact age. If I were you then I know the exact moment that I will die today. And I replay your last days… remembering small, insignificant details like how much you enjoyed the taste of the raspberries from my fruit salad at lunchtime… but you were gone by the evening.

I ask myself if I’m ready to die and of course, I am not, as you were not, and I wonder what that must be like. How unfair it must feel and how painful it must be to feel so powerless.

Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I run and I hope I don’t see anybody. I enjoy these moments when I’m allowing myself to embrace the grief and the pain and it feels real. I wish you felt more real. You’ve been gone too long now and there are so many things that I wish I could remember properly but I can’t. My brain betrays me… and each thought that I try to grab, and cherish, and relive, fades and the edges are gone and the details aren’t exact and I don’t fully know what is real anymore.

I remember sniffing your forehead in the minutes after you died. Trying to breathe you in so deeply so that I would remember your smell, because I knew that I would never get to do it again. This was my last chance. The last time I would ever get to smell that comforting, familiar smell of the skin I had kissed hundreds, or thousands, of times. I long to be wrapped in your big arms and be able to smell your skin just for one more moment. As that thought stabs my heart the pain in my chest is intense, and I gasp as I struggle to breathe. Choked by the thought of everything I have lost.

And suddenly I realise that I run, because standing still in this place, where your clock has stopped but mine keeps ticking is harder than I ever imagined. And every day from now on, when I open my eyes, I know that I am living a day that was stolen from you. A day you never got to live, an age you never got to be. A day that you were not afforded the luxury of living. And I realise that I am older than you now and that… is impossibly hard.

I must not stand still for this is a place in which I find it hard to survive…

And so I run.

My Highest Running High - Winning Endure24 Part 3

As camp stirred awake I headed out for my first daytime lap of Day 2. I think I’d expected to feel upbeat in the daylight, but I had a real dip on this lap and my comment on our post lap handover sheet fully reflected my feelings at the time: “can’t be arsed”. I’d ranked how I was feeling as 5/10 so still not too bad all things considered. In my break I fuelled sensibly to make sure my low state was purely mental. As I was starting to feel down, Eleanor was starting to perk up again and I tried to hold on to some of her cheeriness. However, I think she’d been right and I think the double lap had taken it out of me. Miles 55-60 definitely included my low points in the race. I walked the whole lap. I had a few nice moments; bonding with other competitors with walking poles - we giggled about them being cheat sticks. I also drank the fizzy apple energy drink from the party bus that I was convinced was cider during the night laps! But overall, I was feeling pretty crap. My score was now 2/10 and my comment was “Sh*t, walked all the way. SO TIRED”.

Our table to track our progress:
Time of day, Lap number, Person, Shoes, Lap time, How did you feel.

As Eleanor was feeling good again, she set off on a double lap so I could try to sleep. Of course, the moment you tell your body it can sleep it wakes right back up. As it was now 8am I started thinking about having to pack up our tent and load our cars, and everything we’d have to do once we finished. As soon as I established that I had too much to do to be sleeping, I had a couple of paracetamol, some breakfast, and I started to pack up my gear. Once I was sorted, I stretched out in my awesome reclining camping chair and closed my eyes. About 3 seconds later Eleanor was back from her double lap. So much for getting some sleep!  

Eleanor had run that lap with a soloist we’d met (camping near us) and by their calculations Eleanor was done and she had completed her victory lap with him. As she handed over the wristband she burst into tears as she beamed “I can’t believe it’s over, we did it”. We’d won it. I just had to do my 1 lap and the race was ours. I wasn’t so sure...

It was 10:15am as I headed out for potentially my final lap. The paracetamol had worked their magic and I felt amazing! I ran past the awesome Bex Wheatley (who was running solo) and we shared some love and mutual respect which perked me up even more. The one thing that I hadn’t accounted for was the sun. It was getting pretty hot, pretty quickly, and because I’d last run at 7am then I wasn’t wearing sun cream. I did the calculations and reckoned that there was no way we could stop before the 24 hours was up if we wanted to be sure of the win. Going into the night we had a 2 lap lead but we had relaxed a bit, and walked some of the hills, and the gap was closing.

There was no way of knowing where on course your competitors were, so although we were a lap ahead, by my calculations we left ourselves vulnerable to them being able to start a lap at 11:59:59 and potentially beating us. That wasn’t something I was prepared to let happen. As I headed across the finish line I still felt great and so I dashed in to camp to tell Eleanor I was heading back out to ensure the win. It was around 11:15am and so I could walk a lap and secure the victory with no pressure to run. I told Eleanor to meet me at the finish in an hour (ish) so we could run across the finish line together and share the last few moments together. My error at this point was not grabbing a cap or putting on some sun cream.

I walk/jogged the last lap, which became just walking the further in to it I got. In the first mile I passed Matt Pinnock who had kept pushing and was on his final lap. If he got round, he would complete his 100 miles, but he looked how I was starting to feel: Tired, hot, and very low on energy. It was amazing how all of a sudden, when we were this close to the finish, it could all suddenly feel so far away. The paracetamol were wearing off and everything was starting to ache, especially my left knee. I’d never run further than around 35 miles and this lap would take me from 65 to 70 miles. No wonder I was struggling.

I also underestimated how dehydrated I was. I drunk a cup of water at the halfway water station but it was too little too late. As I passed the spot where the day before magical dust tornados had danced, lifting my spirits and enticing me on, I felt the oppressive heat of the sun and wanted to cry. Knowing there was little shade for the next mile I had to fight off tears. I realised how silly I was to be out for over 2 hours in the midday sun with no water, cap or sun cream after no sleep and running over 60 miles. I fought to the end of that lap but it almost broke me. As I came up the final hill I saw Eleanor looking happy and spritely as she skipped over to run in with me. We ran across the line, arms lifted in the air and this time we really had done it. We had won an endurance race!!! It was massive for both of us but we were pretty exhausted. I collapsed into the tent just as they were announcing that the prize giving was about to start.

Thank goodness we don't have to run any more! We did it!

Being given our trophies.

From this point on everything is a bit of a blur. I have faint memories of laying on the floor of the medical tent with ice on my very sore knee, as Matt Pinnock lay in a bed trying not to vomit. As all runners do, in the moments after pushing your body to the limit, we made quiet murmurings about how we’d never, ever, do it again (although we still figured it had been worth it). We were presented with our trophies, took some photos, packed up camp and headed home.

Happy but exhausted!

It was only a 20 minute drive but I was lucky to survive it. Driving home from that race is one of the most stupid decisions I have ever made. The car drifted across the white line to face oncoming traffic THREE times and each time I only just managed to regain enough control to avoid a crash. I’d run 70 miles, not slept and had heat stroke. It was definitely not safe to drive but I needed to get back to Poppy. I had massively misjudged the toll that the race had taken on me. Endurance races are not easy! Poor Matt even ended up spending the night in hospital! And he’s super-fast, super-fit and super-determined…he got his 100 mile T-shirt although I think he’s sticking to the ‘never again’.

Pain is temporary, winning is forever!

Eleanor and I never really had a full debrief! It’s funny how you can achieve something so amazing with somebody but see them so little. In the whole event we must have seen each other for the total of about an hour (that’s how slick our handovers were!).

The final results: Top 10 female pairs.

So would I do it again? You bet your life I would…I MAY have even signed up for next year as a soloist and I’m not even sure if I’m free that weekend!!! I’ve got my eye on Comrades really. I think I need to get all of the crazy out of my system so I can get back to running 5km and 10km where the risk of heat stroke, car crashes and hospitalisation is significantly reduced! Was it worth it? One hundred percent! That trophy will live on my shelf to remind me that I am stronger than I think and can achieve more than I think is possible. It also cements my friendship with one of the most incredible women I know. 

Breakdown of our laps. A huge 65 miles for Eleanor and 70 miles for me. ABSOLUTE MADNESS!!!

My Highest Running High - Winning Endure24 Part 2

There were only two things we disagreed on as a pair. The first was whether or not to do parkrun in the morning. If you know me, then you’ll know that if it is at all physically possible for me to get to a parkrun, then I’m parkrunning (regardless of how sensible it is!). The other thing we disagreed on was our approach to the laps. I felt that a two lap strategy was best but Eleanor was adamant that she wanted to go with alternating every lap - her thinking being that you didn’t really need to recover from a 5 mile run. Whereas a 10 mile run takes a bit more thought in terms of fuelling and hydration, as well as needing more recovery. We agreed to disagree on the parkrun and I agreed to go with the 1 lap strategy for the race…teamwork is about compromise after all.

I ran parkrun a bit faster than I should have (no vehicles were allowed on-site after 10:30am so there was a bit of a time pressure to get on our way). I ran home (too fast also), jumped in the shower and was ready (just about) to meet Eleanor at my car at the agreed time. We drove there feeling confident that we’d done all of the preparation we could, and that this race was for enjoying.

Keep Gallon Forwood ready to go!

Eleanor was going to run the first lap. It’s really fun to run first as everyone is out lining the course, cheering, and it has a brilliant big event feel. But seeing as I had just done parkrun then I was more than happy to let Eleanor go first.

One very excited Eleanor Gallon!

 We had a whiteboard to write each other messages during the event, and also a table to track what lap number we were on, how long the lap had taken us, what shoes we were wearing, and how we were feeling (it was a 1-10 system with 10 being brilliant and 1 being terrible). For the first few handovers we had agreed to wait in the solo entry/exit area so that we didn’t lose any time. Eleanor came back from her first lap beaming! “You’re going to love it” she grinned at me as she threw our team wristband at me, and off I went.

The course wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined. I’d imagined something similar to TR which is very technical trail running which I love (slaloms through the forest over rutted ground with tree roots and crazy hills and cambered descents). This course was very different. The inclines and the descents were relatively gentle and although it was technically ‘trail’ running it was mostly on path made up of dusty, stony ground. To be honest I was a bit disheartened after my first lap. It wasn’t the sort of trail running I love and the dust was just plain annoying! One hill in particular was like running on sand, not my cup of tea at all. Still, we ticked off a few laps each and after Eleanor handed the band to me for my third lap I shouted ‘all handovers at the tent from here’. The day was incredibly hot and the sun was now positioned so that there was little shade in the solo area and I felt that any shade should rightly be given to soloists. Each kilometer was marked with an inspirational sign, so I set a goal of trying to remember to read them all as I went round! 

I had a massage after 3 laps, Eleanor did after 4, so we were feeling quite fresh. After 5 laps each (25 miles in - almost marathon distance) we were still going strong. Our times were consistent, we both felt confident and at this point I was just starting to get in to it and really start to enjoy it. Unfortunately Eleanor was heading the other way and started feeling bad and had a headache. In our passing words at handover I shouted “are you eating and drinking enough? Make sure you are drinking enough!” It was super-hot and dehydration can be a game changer. We’d got to 25 miles each in a third of the time so we were well on track for 50 miles each…and what was more, we’d found out that we were in the lead! By more than a lap. I think it came as a surprise to both of us but we had been slick with our handovers and consistent with our running. The tantalising thought of winning crept back into both of our heads. Before it got too competitive I ran a lap with my phone so that I could take some photos. Whether we ended up winning or not we were going to want to remember this experience.

ENDURE!!!

I spent that next lap thinking about Eleanor. I hoped she was okay, it was very, very hot and although she had done some decent training, she had found all of her speed again but had never run this far. On the other hand I had the endurance but not quite her speed…we were a balanced team with different strengths. But what if she couldn’t carry on…? Could I? It was still early days in terms of the race and it was a long slog to the end if I was going to have to go solo. On that lap, as well as pondering the many ifs and buts of being part of a team, I also had moments of beautiful mindfulness. Watching the dust tornadoes swirl on the path in front of me and then dance off across the fields as I ran after them. There were some marshals by the VERY dusty, difficult hill and they had a spray bottle. If you requested they would spray your face with cold water as you ran past and it felt like pure heaven: A moment of cool in the baking heat and delivered with a smile and some words of encouragement, it was priceless. There was a huge ENDURE24 in 6 foot letters and numbers on one of the hills surrounding the course, but by the second lap the 2 had fallen down. ENDURE 4 was not a very inspiring message so I relished the moment when the 4 finally fell down too. ENDURE was a message I could get on board with…I would endure!

Beautiful sunset.

The woods before the sun set.

Fueling during my massage.

I was delighted that after her next lap Eleanor was feeling much better. Another lap and I’d completed 6 so it was time for my next massage. It turns out that 45 minutes is a perfect time period to change your kit, grab some food, go to the massage tent, get a 30 minute massage while eating and get back to the tent in time for handover. My food of choice so far had been to have, after each lap, a Linda Mccartney sausage sandwich with mayonnaise and ketchup, an orange club bar, some crisps and some watermelon (I’d packed enough food for a week so that I could eat what I fancied as I knew that at some point I’d not want whatever it was I’d planned to eat and therefore the secret to fuelling was to have options). The timing of Lap 6 meant I’d needed a torch with me as after 8.20pm torches were compulsory. We were now running into the night.

My baby-wipe wash!

As the miles, and so the number of laps, racked up, the column (on our scribbled out table of how we were feeling) inevitably saw numbers fall. The 9’s and 10’s were now 6’s and 7’s accompanied with comments like “same pace feels harder” and “headache”. The setting sun and the excitement of night running kept us going. In a bit to lift my spirits I gave myself a baby-wipe wash to get some of the sweat and sunblock off my skin and I re-plaited my hair. It’s amazing how the little things can make you feel so much better. I felt fresh and ready to go again!

Running through the night was liberating. I really loved running with my torch lighting up the way. I loved the fairy-lights out on the course which made certain sections feel magical. I loved hearing Cristopher Hartley’s bell in the forest (after figuring out where on earth he was marshalling…it took me a few laps!). I loved the bats flying around my head. I loved the patches of freezing fog that would suddenly end and you would run through what felt like beautiful warm air to take away the bite from the wet, cold, cloudy darkness. I loved running through the darkness towards the lights of camp and the finish straight, particularly when John Keys was standing cheering on the finish straight. The laps in the dark were some of my favourites.

Team communication: A note for each other after each lap
and our table to track laps and how we were feeling! 

Eleanor had planned to have a shower after lap 7 but there were logistics to consider. A break of around 45minutes was tight timing so she prepared everything and after coming in from lap 8 off she went. Unfortunately, as I handed over the wristband Eleanor explained that, despite it being midnight, there was a queue for the showers and a queue was something we didn’t have time for. She was feeling a bit rotten and really needed a shower. I was loving the night running, so decided that on our next handover I would start a double lap so Eleanor could go and have a proper shower. For one thing it was cooler and after a scorching day I was embracing the feeling of being cold. At around 2am I headed out with some food and my walking poles to run a double lap. I ran the first lap walking just on the hills, and as I started the second lap, I got a beautiful warm feeling in my tummy as I realised that the sun was about to wake up. I ran-walked the second lap while watching the sun rise.

Sunrise on Day 2. The fog from the night still lay on the ground.

There was a water station halfway round the lap and it had jelly energy shots. I’d asked on previous laps if they were vegetarian…they certainly were. Vegan apparently! I’d not needed them until now but with over 45 miles in my legs and at 3 in the morning I decided I needed an energy boost. I grabbed a few blocks, had a drink and headed off. As I ate them I realised I had no clue what I was eating, I couldn’t even tell what flavour it was! I had a lovely moment with a fellow runner when I asked if they knew and we both decided that the flavour could only be described as red! Mmmmm red (it was really pretty disgusting but a much needed energy boost nonetheless). Towards the end of this lap, as I reached my 50 mile target, a red kite hung in the air over my head as I pushed up the dusty hill and I took comfort from the feeling that Ben was with me and was proud of me.

4am sports massage

I ran back into camp feeling strong and as I handed over to a fresh and strong looking Eleanor I said “take your phone, you’re going to want to take pictures of this. The sunrise is beautiful!” and off she went to complete her 10^th lap (50^th mile). I headed off for my next massage and was pleased to see Matt Pinnock in the massage tent. I was pleased to see him for about a minute and then realised that he looked in terrible shape-I was pretty worried! His race had started fantastically and Matt was one of the fastest men to complete the first 5 or so laps but now he looked very, very cold. I tried to insist on giving him some kit but he said his dad was already on it, at least he had some good support. Through the freezing fog he had run in a shorts and a vest (proper Yorkshire tough) but as I lay there shivering in my full leggings, long sleeved top, dressing gown and blanket he lay under his blanket looking distinctively less cheery. Matt was running solo which was a whole different ballgame. Any time in the massage tent is time you’re losing out on course. I didn’t envy him at all as he headed out of the tent for another lap as he made his way towards his 100 mile target.

It was just before 5am and we had reached our target: 50 miles each ticked off. Whatever came next was us surpassing our expectations and that was a great feeling. It felt slightly less great to think about the next 7 plus hours of racing ahead of us! Being in the lead was starting to feel like a responsibility…

50 MILES BABY!

My Highest Running High - Winning Endure24 Part 1

At the start of the year one of my aims was to run a 100 mile week. It came from a conversation with an old running friend Matthew Crehan. The deal was that he had to run 120 miles in a week and I had to run 100. At the time it felt crazy but crazy is good right? What’s life with no crazy???

Making crazy running plans!

Matt completed his in December and so I was keen to keep up my end of the bargain. I planned an 80 mile week followed by 100 miles the week after, but as it was early January I had one eye watching the weather. It’s not an ideal time of year to attempt a challenge like this. I started the 80 mile week and had planned to front load the week, to get the heavy mileage done, so I could have a few lighter ‘rest-like’ days before starting 100 the following week. As the week progressed I was feeling great, and by Wednesday I’d clocked up 55 miles and was still feeling pretty fresh. Looking ahead I saw snow and ice forecast the following week, so (despite 66 miles being the most I’d ever run in a week previously) I decided to go for it and do the 100. I racked up the rest of the miles pretty easily and finished with a Varsity XC race on the Saturday and a 10 mile trail race on the Sunday (Temple Newsam 10). It was an amazing week and in my head it surpassed anything I thought I could achieve with my running. But…it was easier than I thought it would be. I’d felt strong, focussed and had really enjoyed the week!

Less than a week later I saw a post from my dear friend Eleanor Gallon saying she fancied running Endure24* (E24) as a pair but needed a partner. I had already signed up to Thunder Run** (TR) which was only 3 weeks after E24 but there was little pressure as I’d signed up to TR solo so I could take it as easy as I wanted. Eleanor and I signed up as a female pair (Team name - Keep Gallon Forwood). It’s pretty hard to train for a 24 hour race as hammering yourself with loads of heavy mileage is probably just going to make you very tired and fairly likely to get injured. 

I took a lot of confidence from the hundred mile week. It was such a jump in mileage so I knew that my body seemed to cope with large increases in workload. My training peaked with a 50 mile week, 3 weeks before, which included two back-to-back long run days. The second day included a short run in the morning with a longer run in the afternoon The longer run included coming back home, having a 45 minute rest and refuel, and going back out to finish my run. The idea was to simulate starting running again on tired legs after eating when I probably wasn’t going to feel like running…only something wonderful happened. Because I’d been used to big mileage this concept of breaks for food and rest was amazing! Imagine running a marathon with a few food stops and sit-downs included! Sounds like my sort of running! I was on board!

Eleanor had been beyond excited about this for WEEKS, since the very moment we signed up in fact! I’m not entirely sure she’d thought about anything else which made her the perfect partner. Her excitement was infectious and so we were both hyped and even started thinking we’d quite like to win! We’d looked at the previous year’s results and knew that we could run further. The winning female pair had run 12 laps (60 miles) which we knew would probably be beaten this year (these events become more popular year on year) but it was a bit of an unknown as the previous year at Leeds had also been the first ever year. 

Over the coming weeks we poured over the details. We reckoned slick handovers were the answer and we also thought we should place heavy emphasis on conservation of energy. We decided not to handover in the team handover area, it was too busy and we’d waste a lot of time and energy on predicting our partner’s time, and standing waiting for them. We decided handovers at the tent would be best. Whatever time or energy we’d lose in the extra distance to the tent would be more than made up for by the extra rest we’d get.

Our confidence and focus took a bit of a knock when the Reading results came out. Endure24 Reading is 3 weeks before the Leeds event and the winning female pair had run 29 laps! TWENTY NINE LAPS! That’s 145 miles! It just wasn’t something we thought we could do and it was a good reality check for us to make us realise that we couldn’t control who else entered or how good they would be. All we could do is do everything in our power to have a good race and do the best we could. With slightly more realistic heads on we set our initial target. We would try to get to 50 miles each, if we both made it to 50 miles, then we’d go from there.

We decided to go and pitch our tent and take most of our kit on the Friday morning as soon as the site opened. We’d get a good spot and get the rest of the day to relax. We set off in convoy and arrived at Bramham Park at 9:55am (the site opened at 10am). We joined the queue of cars and giddily bopped to music as we tried to contain our excitement. At 10am on the dot cars were let in and we found a spot right by the start/finish, the solo entry/exit point, and the toilets. What more could you need?! It was only 10.30am but it was super-hot and by the time we pitched the tent we were both already sweating. The forecast for the weekend was set to get much hotter! We set out our beds, laid out our kit and went to register. We took some photos and looked around the site. There was already a real festival vibe and the multi-coloured flags looked beautiful in the bright sunshine, fluttering in the light breeze. We couldn’t wait! We headed home and waited for Saturday morning.

Team Keep Gallon Forwood!

Festival vibes ☼

Was I ready to run, run, run, repeat...?

Preemptive complaining of the pain my legs would feel!  

 * A 24 hour endurance race at Bramham Park in Leeds made up of 5 mile loops of trail running. Endure24 is also in Reading several weeks before the Leeds event.

** Another 24 hour endurance race at Catton Park made up of 10 km loops of trail running.

A Short Circuit (Nicola Forwood, Jack Rose, Phil Hammond & Matt Armstrong take on a Punk Panther Ultramarathon)

It’s important to get a good night’s sleep before a big event so I wasn’t particularly excited to be still up at 1am chatting to a guy from Yorkshire Water about the water flooding up through the floor into my kitchen and hallway. In the end I got 2 hours sleep and had to get up and sort breakfast and final bits of kit while wearing wellies…not the best of starts! Luckily I had been super (and unusually) organised and packed my kit about 3 days prior so there wasn’t much to do. I dragged Poppy out of bed just in time to bundle her into Jack’s car and we were off (after a last minute dash back to the house to turn off the isolation valve to make myself feel better about not coming back to a swimming pool instead of a kitchen).

We pulled up to a gravel car park in Otley as I said ‘Oh, they all look pretty normal?!’ Jack asked me what I was expecting ultra-runners to look like and I’m not sure I really knew. But for one I wasn’t expecting so many women and I guess I was expecting them to look a bit more edgy. Like an elite breed of runner or something, they weren’t, they were all totally normal, actually they all turned out to be really, really lovely.

 

We headed down to Yorkshire Runner for registration and kit check. Does everybody get the feeling that they’ve forgotten something when they’re having a kit check?! I hate that feeling! Oh, actually it was real for Phil who had forgotten to pack his emergency blanket! Schoolboy error Phil – and you’re meant to be a pro at this. It was really exciting to have 4 Hyde Park Harriers on the start line as 3 of us were competing and Matt was Tail Runner.

Team HPH ready to roll!

We all set off and headed up the long climb to the top of the Chevin. It was pretty bizarre to me to start a race and be walking within the first 50m but I guess that just reflected the terrain and the distance (I clearly need to spend more time talking to professionals like Steve Rhodes, and apparently Naomi Farrar has a rule about a marble?!). Within the first 2 miles we saw several people go wrong multiple times which was a decent reminder to concentrate and to really look for the tape (but yellow tape in autumn when tied to trees was interesting to look for). I was a little concerned at how wet and muddy my feet were so early on. It had rained all night the night before, and although we’d been blessed by the Running Weather Fairies on the day, it did mean we got the best of the mud. I realised that although I was confident running over 30 miles in trail shoes that I’d done a maximum of 15 miles in I wasn’t so confident about running for 6 or 7 hours with wet feet!

We ran through Bramhope and Jack was particularly tickled by the days headline so actually backtracked to take a photo which it would be rude not to include:

Slow news day!

Before we knew it we were on familiar ground running the reverse section of Leg 4 of the LCW (it was nice to run down the biggest hill on Leg 4 rather than up it!) which made me smile and relive some of the funnier moments from my recce with CPM. We soon hit CP1 (Cookridge ~5.5 miles) and ran straight on at this checkpoint after having our numbers noted down (we didn’t want any time penalties for missing a checkpoint). Leaving the LCW we headed on towards the airport. This section was one of my favourites as it was the most bizarre running I’ve ever done. We were running in deep mud between two high fences through the airport and it felt like you were in prison. Jack thought it was a bit claustrophobic but I was excited as I just pretended that I was doing the new parkrun in Haverigg Prison which made me feel slightly better about missing my weekly parkrun fix! Something was aggravating Jack’s foot which he tried to run with but as soon as we hit harder ground we had to stop so he could take his horrifically muddy shoe off, only for him to wrestle a 2 inch thorn from the sole of his trainer with his teeth! Shoes back on and we skirted the rest of the airport wondering what on earth we looked like to all the nice clean people in the planes taking off for their holidays. I bet they thought we were mad. To be honest I think I was thinking the same! 

We ran around Yeadon Tarn (I love to take Poppy there so I enjoyed that bit) and on to hit CP2 (New Scarborough ~11.5 miles). We stopped to grab some coke/brownie/flapjack/crisps/peanuts and headed into Guiseley (although I was swearing at myself for not grabbing some Jaffa Cakes too…fuelling is important right?!). We felt confident about this section as we’d done a 10 mile recce a few weeks before so as we headed through the woods to Esholt it was comfortable and familiar running. Next was Hollins Hall and across the golf course, luckily the route had changed here as the original route wasn’t the best from a golfers perspective and we’d received a few interesting comments on our recce. Then we headed into Menston (while I chatted to Yorkshire Water on the phone – no, now was not the best time to carry out on-site investigations, I’m a bit busy) and on to CP3 (Menston ~16 miles). Up to this point we’d pretty much always had people in view, occasionally switching positions with people as we stopped, or they slowed, and at the checkpoint about 6 of us stopped for a decent refuel. Jack was particularly excited about the ‘real’ Fanta while I was disappointed because I’d decided to fill one of my bottles with coke which was not ‘real coke’ at this checkpoint but (what I thought at the time) was nasty Asda coke (which by mile 25 tasted AMAZING!).

We knew we were due some HPH support around here from Lucy Killick so as we climbed up onto Ilkley Moor it was a huge boost to hear some cheering and barking (thanks Bruce) at the top of the hill (oh and the offer of pancakes - thanks Lucy).

Thanks for the photo Lucy, we look pretty fresh for 19 miles!

After a chat, photo-stop and some hugs we were on our way again across Ilkley Moor to the Cow and Calf rocks. We’d been instructed that, while not an official checkpoint, numbers would be checked here and that we had to go around the back of the rocks. After getting checked-off we headed down into Ben Rhydding after some crazy, and somewhat dangerous, rock climbing to avoid the extra ¼ mile safer route (this probably cost us some time because it was windy up on the moor and the descent was hard with cold hands and over 20 miles of tough running in your legs). We lost a few positions to people that knew the best climbing route down, although we were also overtaken by a lady who had been way ahead but who had gotten lost on the Moor so things definitely could have been worse. After running on some seriously tough and muddy terrain we were thankful to have a decent section on road to CP4 (Denton ~22 miles).

 

Still happy at mile 25.

We couldn't have been luckier with the weather, it was a stunning day.

After an uphill section on road, perfect for walking while eating cheese sandwiches and crisps, we climbed up onto Askwith Moor. The weather had been beautiful all day but the light was particularly stunning as we crossed the very boggy Moor, and while the running was tough, it was definitely good for the soul. Continuing on there were gorgeous views across to Blubberhouses and out over the reservoirs.

We passed through Timble (somewhere around here Jack accidentally ripped his number off which I figured meant I’d beaten him by default) and ran down towards some familiar roads from rides with Farhad and Jack as we dropped into Norwood to find the only indoor checkpoint of the day, CP5, inside a church (Norwood ~ 28 miles). The best thing about an indoor checkpoint was being able to wash our muddy hands which we’d been eating with for hours plus this checkpoint had Babybels AND really good SIS energy bars, as well as hot drinks if you were interested. We spent a decent amount of time here eating pretty much everything before establishing that we were doing pretty well position wise and may as well keep pressing on to the finish.

The final section was probably my favourite (despite my feet now complaining about the length of time they’d been in wet, muddy shoes). We’d long lost sight of anyone in front or behind us so there was little rush. As we skirted Lindley Wood Reservoir we ate trail-mix as the sun shone through the trees and I was pretty happy, especially as my Garmin clocked 30 miles. I’ve never run 30 miles before and it felt like a major milestone. Staying in familiar cycling territory we passed through Leathley and before we knew it we were crossing the final few fields of Cows to enter Pool-in-Wharfdale. We found the church and went in to a lovely round of applause and cheering. Although we arrived together I think Jack must have slipped them some money as they placed him one second ahead of me in the results (ladies first Jack!). We finished in 18^th (7.13.54) and 19^th place (7.13.55) and I finished as 4^th female which I was pretty pleased with for my first ultra. Phil finished in 34^th place (8.31.26) after a couple of falls (one at mile 6 and one at mile 32 which was testament to how tough the conditions were, the mud was just crazy but luckily Phil is hard as nails). As tail runner Matt finished just after the 10 hour cut-off at 10.15.00, which was an impressive time to spend on your feet in the mud. The race started with 48 people of which 18 were female.

The technical T-shirt says it was a 50 km race (31 miles), the finisher’s certificate says it was a 53 km race but we ran around 55 km (34 miles) with well over 1200 meters (4000 feet) of climbing. Still, what’s an extra parkrun between friends! The terrain was much tougher than I’d expected mainly due to the heavy rain the night before and the amount of time spent in ankle deep muddy fields and boggy moors. We even had several sections of running through, what felt like rivers, but which was just water run-off.

 

In the church hall we were rewarded with a hot meal, snacks and drinks while we checked out our T-shirt and medal and Jack and I collected our lovely Punk Panther Ultramarathon hoodies. We changed into clean dry clothes and shoes (well mostly, Jack's shoes were still by his front door waiting to be put in the car!). Everyone had a brilliant, if tough, day and I think we’d all do it again next year (Matt has already entered one of the 70 mile options for next year). So take this as a definite recommendation for the Punk Panther events and maybe we can get even more Hyde Park Harriers on the start line next year (http://punkpanther.co.uk/). 

It was honestly much easier than racing a road marathon: The hills, the descents, running on your toes through deep mud, climbing over stiles, going up and down steps, and even rock climbing all keeps your body much looser than the monotony of distance running on road. Running with kit was easier than I thought it would be but my back ached a lot the next day (I might put a FEW less snacks in next time, I packed the entire kitchen cupboard this time, but hey, it is good to be self-reliant). Apart from a couple of small blisters I’m relatively well recovered and back to running with no problems (I’ve ordered my Injinji socks for next time). Hang on, did I just say next time?! That’s right, I think I did, I quite fancy 50 km (ish) as a distance to race. This time Jack and I just enjoyed it but next time I think it’d be fun to push on and see what I can do… watch this space!
 

Unpublished from 8 months ago - laying foundations for my run streak. TRIGGER WARNING!

Here I am, at 33, with much more experience of this world than I ever thought was possible at this age. The experiences I’ve had have been magical and they’ve been cruel.

I have dealt with a subsidence claim on the house, I’ve sat and watched (in an out of body kind of way) as a consultant has told us our lives will never be the same again because Ben has a brain tumour. I’ve sat countless hours alone, in lonely waiting rooms, waiting for Ben to come out of theatre, or out of intensive care. We’ve gone through numerous rounds of various types of chemo, two cycles of radiotherapy, countless MRI scans, and the worst and longest drawn out days, and weeks, waiting for results. I’ve watched Ben suffer, collapse, have seizures, lose the ability to walk, be scared to die, become very, very ill, and ultimately I’ve watched the man I love die. I say watched, and while I was there for the slow and difficult road towards death I didn’t actually make it in time that day. Ben died very suddenly (I was on the phone to him 10 minutes before he died. We were chatting happily about risotto) and we couldn’t get to him in time. I arrived too late and I have analysed seconds and replayed scenarios over and over… it doesn’t change anything. I’ve had to say the words ‘Poppy, Daddy has died’ to my 2 year old daughter. I’ve arranged a funeral, a memorial service, picked flowers, coffins, dealt with undertakers. I’ve dealt with the looks of pity and sadness and felt the actual pain of your heart breaking. I know people say ‘heart breaking’ and it sounds as if you know it would hurt, but trust me when I say that NOTHING prepares you for the feeling of your chest being torn open and your heart being crushed while your body tries to continue without a way forward. I’ve experienced IVF, daily injections, sitting in waiting rooms surrounded by couples. I’ve been asked by the theatre nurse as I was about to be sedated if my husband was coming… no, no he’s not. I’ve had tablets, injections and scan after scan. I’ve been congratulated on being pregnant, had a scan at 11 weeks before announcing the news. I’ve told my dead husbands parents they’re having another grandchild. I’ve had a 13 week scan which showed an anomaly. I’ve had appointment after appointment and then had to answer: ‘Would you like CVS, there is a 1% chance of losing the baby?’ How do you answer questions like that on your own? I don’t even know, but I did and I’ve done it all alone, and when they asked if there was anyone I wanted to call I’ve sat sobbing unable to form the words to explain that the one person I need to call can no longer answer the phone. I’ve laid on a bed and watched an 18cm needle be pushed into my stomach and wiggled around as they scratch the cells from the placenta and felt the irony of thinking ‘I wonder if this is what liposuction feels like?’ No Nicola…I’m pretty sure this, right here, is NOT a comparable experience! I’ve been told that my baby has no chance of surviving, but good news… you do have a choice. Would you like to kill your baby now or would you like to try to carry it to term and then watch it die? I decided to kill my baby (I couldn’t face watching another family member suffer and die) and then I’ve gone in to hospital alone, to the wrong ward with inadequate pain relief (unless I fancied heroin…then I was in the right place… kind of wish I’d tried that now) and I’ve given birth to a dead baby six days before I was due to fly on a trip of a lifetime. I’ve smiled and nodded sympathetically when friends who are married but who’ve had miscarriages have told me they know exactly how I feel. I’ve picked myself up and I’ve rebooked the trip and I’ve taken Poppy to the other side of the world and seen and done the most amazing things and I have had time to think, to be away from it all and to escape.

I often wonder if I’m lucky…there are lots of things that could have been worse. Ben had great healthcare, the babies ‘incompatibility with life’ (what a great phrase) was detected early and I was given choices and good healthcare. I have one incredible daughter, I have freedom and I am strong.

There were so many highs and lows on our trip away. It was an incredible roller coaster flitting between climbing volcanoes, snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef, watching the beautiful changing colours of Uluru as the sun set and rose again juxtaposed with challenges like losing the one and only item of Ben’s I had with me, just before his 40^th birthday (a £200 North Face jacket and the only waterproof I had). I’ve watched a storm rage and the sea swell which stopped us from reaching our paradise that I’d booked for Ben’s birthday as if Ben’s anger of not being here was swirling around us, and I’ve sat in a broken down rental car and cried so much that the man who came to fix the car fetched his wife who hugged me and offered us a bed for the night. We experienced so much kindness and friendship along with isolation and independence. And we’ve come back. Back home to questions. Home to two frozen babies waiting for a decision… more IVF? The builders are about to start the ‘final’ repairs on the house (I’ll believe it when I see it!). To decisions about school, about what to do, where to go, and what do I want, and I don’t have the answers for any of them… yet.

Then last week I experienced freedom. Mum was visiting for Mother’s Day and I went running without the buggy, I played netball for two hours straight, I danced the night away and got drunk and flirted and realised that I’m not just a widow and a mum… I’m still me too.

I went out with the most incredible group of people. Friends I’ve met at the young and bereaved café at Wheatfields. We’re all young and most have young children and so we’re all in the same boat. It sounds like the world’s most depressing night out but it’s really not! So now I’m on it, back to being me! No refined sugar for five days so far even though there’s been lots of cake around (we’ve been at cafes, parties etc.) and I feel great! I’m training, I’ve seen my friends much more than I did before and I’m starting to feel like I’m ready to face the world. I’m ready to answer:

• ‘Is it just the two of you?’

                Yes but it’s not ‘just’, no I know you didn’t mean it like that, that’s okay.

• ‘Where is your husband?’

                He died.

• ‘Are you a single parent?’

                I prefer ‘one parent family’ but I realise you might say that’s just semantics.

• ‘What job do you do?’

                I parent and I hold it together when it doesn’t seem possible. You might not think it’s a job, that’s okay, because it is.

• ‘What next?’

                I have no idea, and that’s okay. For now being happy is enough.

Today I found it hard when I looked at my step count and realised I’d had a bit of a lazy day. I felt the burden of being alone with Poppy, of not being able to pop out… ever! The prison of being a lone parent when what I really needed to do was go for a run and gather my thoughts. The answer took me longer to think of than I would have hoped but I thought ‘sod it’ to parenting and even though it was 5 pm and Poppy was hungry and tired I put her in the buggy and I went out in the sunshine and I ran. I felt life pulling me backwards, and I struggled to push the heavy buggy up the hills, but I ran. And as the sun shone on my face, other runners smiled at me, people looked at me like I was crazy doing an effort session in the park with a whinging 4 year old in a buggy, I just laughed. I realised that sometimes to be the best mum in the world you have to give your hungry child their dinner an hour late because you have to run and what you need matters too.

I often run in the park and see nobody I know but I was thankful to get a lovely smile and wave from Ralph as he cycled past and the same from Farhad as he drove past so that I felt like I was part of a club that I’ve felt distanced from lately.

Here I am, a ‘widow’ at 33 (God I HATE that word!) and I could hold my own in a discussion about cancer, death, funeral planning, miscarriages, terminations, world travel, PhD level chemical biology, IVF, subsidence, parenting and a whole lot more. So if you ask me how I am, I’m battered, I’m bruised but I’m fine… I can’t believe it! I’m actually fine, I’ve got this! I can do this! Truth be told, I’m feeling a little bit amazing… and why? Because I now know that I am unstoppable. 

Completing the Set

My run streak started on Thursday 27^th April. It was the first day of my holiday to Turkey with Manesha and we ran 5 miles… that seems like a lifetime ago now and I’ve got a fair few miles under my belt since then. We ran every day that week and I came home feeling inspired to actually apply myself to something for the first time in what felt like forever.

Where it all started!

Since Ben died I would have told you that I was coping and that I was okay. Looking back, I can now see (of course) that I wasn’t. I am currently in a really positive place and so can fully appreciate the toll that the years of trauma had on our lives. I’m feeling thankful to have come out the other side and, not to have moved on, but definitely to have moved forwards.

I’m not sure why I decided to run streak, I’m not even sure it was a definite decision. I think that Manesha and I were both surprised that we had run every day (especially as it was SO hot) and I figured I may as well just keep on doing it!

Before the run streak started Farhad convinced me to sign up for the HPH trip to Cologne so I entered the half-marathon (I’d not done any running besides plodding parkrun for the previous 5 months with the IVF, losing the baby and then travelling to Australia and New Zealand alone with Poppy for 2 months, so it was incomprehensible that I would run the marathon) and entering the half gave me something to train for. I had around 6 months so figured I could get some decent training in and might even manage a half-marathon PB! Farhad might also have mentioned that Liverpool Half was coming up… I entered it. Even if there wasn’t long enough to train for it properly at least I would enjoy a weekend with my lovely friend Krystal who lives in Liverpool. THIS is when I should have spotted the warning signs. If I was training for Liverpool Half then why not run the Leeds Half as a training run for Liverpool (nice logic Nicola…)?! That, in theory, is fine but I’ve always wanted to run a sub 2 half-marathon and as lots of you know I’m not the most patient person… 

Cue the holiday with Manesha and the sudden transition that needed to be made from parkrunner to half-marathon runner. The run streak was underway!

I enlisted the help of Eleanor Gallon (one of my running friends I most aspire to be - EVEN THOUGH she’s a Kirkstall Harrier 😉) and asked her to pace me to sub 2. I don’t think either of us really thought it was possible so we set multiple goals (Leeds Half blog). After we smashed the A goal I was starting to think that maybe there was something to this run streaking business (I can see Steve Darby rolling his eyes because he told me about 7 years ago that to get better at running you just have to run more, it really is as simple as that. The speed work and hill sessions can come later, first you have to be doing the miles).

I’m not sure when my intensity or training stepped up a gear, it’s all blurred into one exciting running journey! Several elements, additional to running, have been an integral part of my running journey:

•       My friend Donna was training to be an Ashtanga yoga teacher and asked if I’d mind being her guinea pig (she’s now qualified and an amazing teacher - well done Donna!). What I heard was ‘Nicola, can I come and give you one-to-one Ashtanga lessons once a week for free?’… um yes Donna that would be fine ;) I also put a 20 minute daily (or at worst every other day) core workout in to compliment my run streak. This soon became a 40 minute strength session and after I finished every session I did some of the amazing Ashtanga I was learning. It all went together beautifully and I was REALLY enjoying it! More importantly core strength is absolutely key to not getting injured if you’re doing stupid things like slamming up your mileage as well as increasing your pace.

• ·        Several members of Hyde Park Harriers had started going out cycling and I was pretty keen to get myself a road bike. As luck would have it I found Ben’s receipt for his road bike… I wouldn’t have cared how much Ben spent on his road bike - we’ve always been savers and savings are to spend on travelling the world and on things you love. Ben loved bikes, but I’m sure he told me his bike cost around £2000-£3000 so I was surprised to find a receipt for a certain Cannondale for £5000! Oh good – my bike budget just increased! After 3 months of research and searching I bought an extremely beautiful Liv Avail and feeling brave I clipped straight in!

The first photo I took of my beautiful new bike!

I surprised myself by just how much I loved the bike, especially as when I’d last tried a road bike I had HATED it. Being on the drop bars had terrified me so it’s come as a massive shock just how much I love it now. I think riding makes me feel close to Ben (especially as the red kites seem to follow me when I’m riding although maybe I’m just romanticising or imagining it). I feel like it helps me understand Ben and I feel like when I’m riding that perhaps he’s not gone because it’s like I’ve channelled my inner Ben and we’re riding together (totally soppy I realise!).

The main point about the yoga, the bike and the core workout are that my running has been so insane that I have been VERY, no, EXTREMELY lucky not to get injured. I’ve done just about every single thing that people say will get you injured, and amazingly, I appear to be getting away with it… for now (touches wood, crosses fingers, looks for a four-leaf clover and a rabbits foot!).

My weekly mileage quickly got up to 40-50 miles a week and running the minimum of a mile soon seemed like cheating and left me feeling disappointed! In the first few weeks I had been proud of myself for learning to just run a mile and accept that I should stop there… how quickly I forgot that lesson/discipline/self-control! After I ran Liverpool Half (on my own without being paced, and PBing comfortably) I decided that to run the half in Cologne was madness! Surely if I could smash two half marathons with just a little training then I should be running the full marathon in Cologne. I enquired, and before I knew it had paid my 10 euro admin fee, on the 1^st October I had a marathon to run. 

Whilst I’ve had moments of madness (like doing 4.5 hours of exercise on a rest day or accidentally running a 19 mile ‘recovery’ run the day after Thunder Run etc.) I have actually tried pretty hard to be ‘sensible’ while embracing the enjoyment of my new obsession. The consistency of running every day, doing my core workout, Ashtanga and cycling soon paid off and within a few months I was setting a PB at every race I entered (I’ve detailed my PB’s in a table at the bottom of this post). I started to think that maybe I could even consider myself a ‘proper’ runner! You know, one who enters races to do well, not just to have fun.

With 6 weeks to go until Cologne Marathon I’d PBed at every distance I’d run (1 mile, 5km, 10km, 10 miles & half marathon) but I knew the set wouldn’t be complete without a marathon PB. The problem was that I am impatient, I just couldn’t wait 6 weeks. I had gotten flu 6 weeks before the 2016 VMLM and didn’t recover (doing almost zero running in the 6 week lead-up to race day). I couldn’t risk that happening again and losing my fitness, I NEEDED a marathon PB. So in a moment of madness I grabbed a bag of dried fruit and nuts, a snickers and a bottle of Lucozade and turned my 20 mile training run into a 26.2 marathon PB. I had satisfied my need to run the distance although I realised I was peaking WAY too soon for Cologne.

I tried to maintain my momentum but the lack of childcare in the summer holidays was suffocating. I spent several weeks in Norwich in order to get in a decent training block (thanks Mum) but when I returned to Leeds I really struggled to maintain what I saw as my necessary mileage. Luckily Poppy loves our buggy runs and I did some incredibly hard buggy running to keep myself ticking over – the one that sticks in my mind is the 15 mile return trip to Tong Garden Centre because of the horrendous hills, my back hurt for 3 days after that buggy run!

Urgh! This is NOT a good route for a buggy run!

Before I knew it there were 2 weeks to go and we were doing the HPH Addingham run (after parkrun of course). It was taper time! My taper was not the most traditional… I just have no self-control! I think I’ve become addicted to racing… so the weekend before Cologne I ran parkrun in the morning, raced the Golden Mile in the afternoon and on the Sunday ran the Stainland Trail Race. Stainland Trail probably needs its own blog (for those of you I haven’t told about it a million times I finished THIRD FEMALE! I was absolutely floored… as if I won a prize for running?! A podium finish?! I literally couldn’t believe it, I’m still not sure I believe it despite having the beautiful etched glass to prove it). However, that race absolutely ruined me. I couldn’t run more than a mile a day after that and it was a really, slow, painful mile. I had raced WAY too hard, especially considering I was 7 days away from Cologne. The fast, steep and technical descents had taken their toll and I wasn’t in any shape to run a marathon. I saw Chris ‘magic hands’ Corcoran on the Thursday and he reassured me that: 1) it wasn’t shin splints; and 2) I wasn’t going to break myself by running the marathon. What more did I need to know? 😉

So off we went to Cologne! Even though my shins and calves still hurt when I walked to the start, I got in my pen knowing that I was still going for my race goals (which I’d told everyone was sub 4 but which I’d actually changed to sub 3.45. Go hard or go home right?).

A Goal: 8.30 min/miles for a 3.42.52 finish
(8.35s were too slow and I'd miss my goal by 3 seconds)
B Goal: Sub 3.50 so 8.45 min/miles for a 3.49.25 finish
C Goal: Stay under 9 minute miles for a 3.55.32 finish
D Goal: If all else fails GET A PB (4.38.01)

I ended up chasing a Good for Age time for the London Marathon to the wire, and missed out by just 54 seconds (3.45.54). Whilst being bitterly disappointed at the time I have now come around to being pretty proud of what I have achieved in the past 5 or 6 months. I’ve gone from running once every Saturday morning to running a very respectable marathon time and even finishing third in a really tough off-road race (and I know I’ve said it a million times but if that race had ruined my chances in Cologne it was TOTALLY worth it for the podium finish). My average comfortable pace has gone from around 10.30 minute miles to around 8.30 minute miles and I’m still getting faster?!

It’s been an absolute whirlwind: I’ve run almost 1000 miles (and as I recently got a road bike you can add another 500 miles on the bike too… not to mention the turbo that now sits in my living room). I’m not surprised it feels like I’ve been on a journey!

And JUST when you think a set is complete… you go and enter an ultra. 😉 My wise (and very fast) running friend Matthew Crehan once said ‘the trouble with runners is that we’re never satisfied’. You’re right Matt, we’re not, and hooray to that, because that’s what keeps me going. Next up is a sub 22 minute 5 km by Christmas. When my friend Tom, from run club, suggested this goal (after he paced me to my comeback PB at parkrun) I thought he was INSANE! I now think he’s a genius and I can’t wait to give it a try! Thanks for setting me an ace goal Tom.

My running to-do list now includes:

• Some serious track sessions (I’m on it);
• Experiencing blowing up (I just need to pick a race to sacrifice…);
• An ultra (which is coming soon, beautifully named the Short Circuit - ha ha!);
• Actually achieving running a negative split (I’m still not sure I believe in these); 
• Running a good for age marathon time for London (3.45) and Boston (3.40);
• And of course, ultimately, Comrades.

Long live the craziness - life is for living and I am hoping there is no end in sight for my run streak!

Oh, and rest... my running to-do list should have included learning to rest. 😉

Every PB, at every distance was from 2011, I've literally been plodding since then! Until now... now I have shiny new PBs!