Playing catch-up

Where to begin?

I haven’t blogged for nearly 3 weeks and I find myself not knowing where to start. Running? Just running? Or all the other craziness that is going on in my life?

In the past 3 weeks I have moved house – we've moved next door in anticipation of a house switch with my in-laws – and have quit my job – or at least , as a freelancer, quit working for the employer who was providing me with the vast majority of my work. One of my children has started her 9 week (9 week!) summer vacation and my other is about to start his 7 week vacation. All this to explain my absence from the blogosphere. I was – gasp – even off-line there for about a week.

But I’ve been running. Oh have I been running. The week of the move – which was, of course, also the week that my work got so on top of me that I decided I really had to quit working this job – was not a good running week. When I wasn’t working I was carrying boxes out of my old house into my new house (we’ve moved next door, remember, so everyone reasoned we did not need removal men…). I ran 15 out of the recommended 35m and briefly contemplated a do-over week – I have given myself 14 weeks for the 12 week program so that, if needed through life, injury or illness I can have a do-over week – but decided against it. I LOVE do-overs but they have a habit of getting in the way of just-getting-on-with-its and so, as always in the spirit of the opposite of me – I decided to carry on. And sure enough – week 3 and 4 of training have been completed happily. It’s Sunday evening and I’m writing this after a 48m week. Pfitz’s revised edition has a slight r&r week this week which my legs are ready for but otherwise – onwards and upwards.

So the facts of my running are good. I’m getting the slow miles in, but also the faster ones. I managed my 16M with 10M at 8:16 which I was pleased with. I wedged in a 10K in which I placed 8th out of 60 women – not bad for a distance I hate!

As for my life – ah well. It struck me, while out on a run yesterday that those areas of my life where I have such low expectations of myself – i.e running – are those areas where I persist and do well, and where I gain a great deal of satisfaction. I also never anticipated being married or a mother, and while I would not – by any stretch – consider myself remotely perfect mother or wife material, again the lack of expectation on my own part means that I don’t generally think I do a terrible job.

The area where I have always had high expectations of myself, however, is my career. And there, I’m afraid, I have never really been much of a success. At least, not by own standards. Although I did well at school and university, I never felt I really ever hit the sweet spot – found that thing that really worked for me. And in my jack of all trades career since things have carried on in that vein. I am trying not to talk about how others view my job or career – because some of the things I have done may have sounded prestigious, and I have rarely been terrible at a job. But neither have I ever hit on professional satisfaction – a sense that I had found my place and the direction to follow.

This sounds like a complaint and it is not. I know that when I need to go out there and earn some money I can do that. Whether I make coffee or write copy – I can do that.

But I am reaching a stage in my life where I think I perhaps need to adjust my view of myself. In my teens and twenties I thought I would be a highly professionally successful, single woman, living somewhere like New York City. Instead, I am happily married, mother of 2 children, living in the English countryside. Sports never even featured as an ambition in my life as I was just too incompetent – and now my passion is running. Perhaps I am not the person I thought I was. And I need to think about the person I actually am? And maybe by being more honest about what I am, rather than what I think I am, or used to think I would be, I will be more able to find some professional satisfaction?

All very deep thoughts on a Sunday night, after a long week. But Pfitz has me running long, and a lot. And I have killed another iPod, so thoughts like these are occupying me at the moment..

In the meantime, I have the summer ahead of me, training for Berlin and Bizz Johnson, going on holiday to Greece (lots of early morning / late evening running to avoid the heat) and Holland (wonderful, beautiful woodland trail running). Perhaps all those miles will give me the opportunity to gain some insight into my muddled head.

I will leave you all with a list inspired by Oprah the Great. This I know for sure:
- iPods are not waterproof. They don’t like being washed in a washing machine. They don’t even like being stuck inside a sweaty running bra when you forget your iPod carrier.
- Running with your family is great. I made my whole family – husband, mother-in-law, and two kids come out with me to my 10K on Tuesday and we all raced – the kids in a fun-run and Adam and I in the 10K. We all loved it, despite some troubles with the fun-run on my son’s part – and my daughter won second place, a great running shirt (which she is refusing to give to me) and everyone got inspired.
- Moving house is a pain in the behind.
- You think you’re very essential to help make things happen. You leave the place you think you’re essential to and the sky doesn’t fall. 2 weeks later, everyone is coping fine without you.
- Running is the best.
I’m back in the game peeps – back onto your blogs and comments and all. Thanks for waiting around!

Week 1 - in the bag?

Well Pfitz and I are back at it again. Like any intense relationship, I think a temporary separation was a good thing. Running easy miles, at my own pace, was good for me. But before hooking up with him again, this time, I prepared myself for him. I was ready for him. In the weeks leading up to the beginning of my 14 week Pfitzinger training plan (12 + 2 weeks for life getting in the way) I ramped up my mileage and my tempo runs and, to be honest, our first week together was less demanding than the fortnight before we reunited. However. However. As you know - we are now in the middle of moving house. I had a ball to go to which required a late night, dancing in high heels and a stay away from home (well, required, but you know). And work just never stops stressing me out. So the first week, was, well a bit of a struggle. I bought a new version of the Pfitzinger Advanced Marathoning as I had been told he's changed his plans a bit. I haven't had time to read it but yes he has. He's introduced doubles. Running twice in a day. Good lord that is a challenge. Fitting one run in is something but two! So I promptly missed the first double. Then I had 5 easy to run which I ran on a hilly path with a heck of a hangover - not much of a recovery run, more of a punishment run. But I doubt the Pfitz approves of dancing in high heels and drinking champagne so this was his way of telling me to get back on the wagon.. And then I had 13 to run on Sunday. But Sunday I moved furniture and - stuff, SO MUCH stuff - all day. Up and down stairs. I was going to run at 9pm but I was finished. Done for. In the bath, soothing my aching muscles, I perused Advanced Marathoning to see if he would let me off the hook. No such luck. "There's really no excuse for outside commitments to regularly interfere with your marathon preparation". Cheers Petey. Guess I'm off out tomorrow morning. So in the tradition of truly hardcore runners like the ROHOs I set off at 5am with an empty stomach. I only got 9M in. I was running slowly (running on empty man!) and had a big, full day ahead at work and home - I had to be in the house again by 6:30am. All day this bothered me. So when I got home, stressed and ratty, guess what I did? Yup I went out and ran the other 4. Yes this is not what Pete wanted. He wanted me to run the last 8M at marathon pace. But you know what Pete? It's been a hard week.

However, on the upside - we are nearly done. By Friday I think I will be moved - temporarily. There is an 0ff-putting pile of boxes in storage and still amazing amounts of just - stuff - to be moved - but the big ticket stuff has been done. And there have been some true highlights. I found a handbag I was so upset at losing that I allowed myself to be hypnotised to try to find it. (that didn't work - duh.) I found a dress I saw recently in a sale and wished I had bought in my size - guess what? I did! It was hanging in my wardrobe all this time... I am SUCH a ditz.

We're camping out for a few months, wedged together with my in-laws (that conjures up a pretty picture hey?) but little need to worry about my house. I can just go out running. So watch out for me peeps - I intend to get back on the blogging, commenting and generally being present wagon. Till soon!

Finally - I've been so bad at most things recently - friendships, prioritising, blogging, being-on-the-wagon - that it just drops into the ocean of my failures but I haven't posted any photos recently. So here's a recent photo of me in my new running gear after a 10M run. Forgive the hideous house I posed in front of.

Onwards and upwards (and downwards too)

A fellow blogger emailed me a few weeks ago asking me how I had managed to fit the Pfitzinger schedule - which is pretty demanding, time and distance-wise - into my schedule.  The answer to that is - simply - by prioritising it.  

That sounds decisive and straightforward enough but can be much more problematic than it seems.  To run the mileage that Pfitzinger demands, and to fit in the rest, sleep and nutritional focus that will help to maximise the mileage I have been cutting corners out of all corners of my life.  

And some parts of my life have very few corners to cut.  Take my family.  They are used to my Sunday morning long runs.  They are used to waking up in the week and finding me either still out on the trail, or just coming in.  But to fit in Pfitzinger's 8 - 12 miles before 7am is harder than my usual leisurely 5.  Getting up at 6 I can cope with.  Getting up at 5 takes some getting used to.  And of course, everyone pays the price for my getting up at 5am.  By 9pm, after a day at work and all the joyous and not-so-joyous tasks of the mother, housewife and wife that greet me in my second shift as I walk through the door, I am not the best company.  This is not the time to come to me with a "I can't sleep".  Or a "let's do our finances now".  Or any conversation or activitity which requires patience and engagement.  Because I no longer have it. 

Work is fairly unaffected.  That is to say that I do a very stressful and demanding job part-time which is really a full-time job wedged into part-time.  I definitely have my bad patches - I am in the middle of one now - but I think that, on balance, I deal with my work stress by running and this is definitely a blessing for my colleagues.   

Other interests?  Well - this blog is a case in point.  While I've never been as "regular" as some, my blogging has definitely tailed off in the last 6 months while my mileage went up.   Which I don't like because I need you all, more than ever.  I like hearing from everyone, sharing with everyone and feeling a part of it. But right now I am training and running so much that I can't actually find the time to share much of it.  I keep composing audio comments while I'm out on a run but I never make the time to sit at my desk and actually record them.  My recipe blog - there are photos on my computer, recipes written up but actually putting them together?  I hope it will happen but something big would have to happen to free up that chunk of time.  

And just as I felt my plate was full - we are moving!  Only next door - my in-laws and I are swapping houses.  No - don't ask.  Our domestic setup is unusual, we live next door to my father-in-law and his girlfriend and, as their house is bigger than ours, and they are getting older and we are taking up more space, we are swapping.  So!  I am packing up the whole house. The icing on the cake of this gem of a domestic situation is that we are living with my in-laws while they renovate our house.  There is plenty of space but still.  It will be interesting.  So not only am I packing, but I am also storing lots of things that in the short term I will not be able to have around.  As anyone who has done this knows, this is very tiring work.  So wedging in my runs around this as well is adding another layer of complexity. 

On balance the running is helping.  The stress relief, the boost I get from running well - all well worth it.  But I would say that training, and in particular following a demanding schedule, does cut into the rest of your life.  And while we have all spent a lot of time thinking about the positive aspects of running, and I wholly believe in them, there is no denying that spending that much time on a hobby affects your life, not always where you would wish it to. 

Training - thank you for asking - is going well.  I have just started my 12 week training plan for Berlin and the Bizz, tacking two extra weeks on to cope with the summer holidays / injuries and /or illness.  In the weeks prior to starting the program I managed a 40M week and a 38M week, a 10 miler run at an 8 minute mile pace and a 12 miler at 8:30 minute mile pace.  I feel ready for the Pfitz.  Bring it on boy!

So now from the ethereal to the more, well, earthy aspects of my life.  About 4 weeks ago I realised that I had progressed from being to having a pain in my a**.  Yes I pulled my hamstring.  The very top of it.  I had never given much thought to my hamstrings but now I had to.  I didn't even know where it was.  The name is a clue.  I had a pain in my ham.  So off I trotted to my friendly osteopath, font of all running and physical wisdom.  He did not seem unduly concerned but recommended stretching and .. massage.  A .. well .. ham massage.  I've had two of these ham massages and they have made me realise just how English I've become. While I'm lying there on the massage table having my issues dealt with, so to speak, we speak about climbing mountains, training schedules, nutrition etc.  In other words - we both make very sure to avoid any mention of the massaging of the ham.  

You will be delighted to hear, however, that the awkwardness and embarassment has been worth it as my ham is much happier and so am I.  I think that tomorrow we can just go back to my usual ITB stretches and knee massage... 

So if you don't hear from me, it's not because I've given up.  I'm probably out running.  Or at my osteopath's.  But I haven't forgotten you - don't forget me.  I'll be back! 

Wrapping her up and moving her on..

Life has just been crazy. In the final weeks before the marathon life pretty much becomes the marathon. Ironically, my training load lessens but the focus increases. Then, after the marathon I have to take some time to pick up the slack I've built up in the rest of my life with family, friends and work..

So that's today's excuse for not blogging for a month! And for not being a very assidious commenter. I assure you that I'm getting to it - and you. Promise!

4 weeks after London and it's time to move on. I've taken some time to learn the lessons from London - good and bad. Overall my conclusions are as follows:

• starting fast was quite a good idea. Maybe "bat out of hell" is not the best race strategy but it certainly got me into a pace groove I was able to maintain for a long time. I have definitely started out too slowly in the past and have missed good times as a result.
  
• NO more portapotties in races. Unless there is no queue this girl is going wild and free. Sorry for TMI but that stop cost me at least 90 seconds..
• Strangely enough there appears to be some degree of disagreement about what causes cramp. Having surfed around the web though I think mine was caused by: dehydration, lack of fuel (I should have stuck with ShotBlocks for the latter part of the race - I can get those down me when nothing else appeals) and just generally going too damn fast. I hadn't trained with 8:30s as my race pace and eventually I ran out of oxygen. Hence cramps and blue lips.
  

I had a very interesting email exchange with the fabulous, multi-talented and wise ShirleyPerly and she suggested I look for another marathon within 3/4 weeks of London to have another go at my BQ. I did so, but there were no qualifying marathons anywhere near me. In addition, I had committed quite a few weekends in May to other things (which I had put off in training) so I decided this plan was not going to work. It did make me think, however, that I wanted to give myself a better shot in October. While the Bizz Johnson is a Boston qualifier, and, apparently, more people qualify there than do in Chicago, I think this might be something to do with the field (more people there looking for a Boston qualifier?). Also - while it has some serious advantages - slightly downhill, uncrowded, soft path underfoot, generally cool (cold even) weather - there is one major disadvantage - altitude. I've never suffered from altitude sickness, nor found my sporting performance affected by altitude, but it could happen. So I decided to slip another one around that time and found - da da dum! - the Berlin marathon! It's easy to get to from me, the flight times are convenient and the hotels affordable and I'm going to keep that one under the radar as well to the larger public. You all will know about it, and from a training point of view it is the race I am targeting towards, but I'm not going to tell the world I'm doing it. I'm going to fly in on the Saturday afternoon, pick up my race number, go to my hotel, sleep (I'm going back to Tylenol PM this time!) and then race. Pick up my bag and get on the plane home. Done. And .. I have a secret weapon. The amazing Sally is joining me and pacing me. My London marathon briefly made me the fastest out of us two but she gave me 3 weeks of glory before she shattered her own PB of 3:52 and recorded a 3:41. As long as she doesn't kill me we will give it our best shot.

And my running? Has been going well. I have been following Pete Pfitzinger's recovery plan and am back at about 30M a week. I have a slight tightness in my ITB, going into my hip and buttock (do you always think of Forrest Gump when you say that word?) and I'm rolling and stretching and going to see my faithful osteopath about it on Wednesday.

Mentally I'm fine - at least where running is concerned. I haven't suffered from any post-marathon blues - I think my joy at my performance, coupled with planning my next races, coupled with getting back on the road again have avoided that. Also, I had something to look forward to. Last Saturday, I met Drusy, Steve Chopper, Phil Moneypenny, Gary Wall, and Mark "Wheelo" at the Rugby Club at Matlock to run the Swift Half. Do you remember that 2 years ago I ran a marathon I hadn't trained for? It was a humbling and painful experience. This time I had a bit more sense and decided to run the half. I had met Drusy 3 weeks ago and once I spotted her I soon met everyone else, as well as Drusy's wonderful family and dog. Gary and I rode to the start together on the race bus, where he told me about his amazing run along the length of Hadrian's wall (84 miles in 2 days). We all met up at the cold and windy start and posed in front of the portakabins (well all apart from Drusy who was "navigating" her husband and family to the start).

It was a great race. The first 8 miles or so were pretty tough as we had the wind in our face and the running was mildly uphill the whole way. I fell into pace with an older guy and, although his yorkshire accent was so thick I missed some of his more salient tips and tricks, it soon became apparent he had been quite something in his day (a sub 3 marathoner anyone?) and we amicably chatted as the miles flew by. The race is called the Swift Half because of the screeching downhill between miles 10 and 12 - a descent of about 1000 feet I think - and while this is hard on your knees and quads (particularly for those poor folk running the full marathon distance) it does help your speed... And so, 3 weeks after London, I romped across the finish line in 1:44, breaking my official half marathon PB by 10 minutes and my London marathon PB by 6. I feel it's a slightly dishonest PB because of the descent - I'm not sure I could keep that pace up on the flat - but I've got it. Now all I've got to do is do it again..

We all congregrated around Drusy's wonderful family who were taking photos and when we were all in we headed indoor for a sausage bap and some chips. Hmmmmmm.

There was only one downside. The race photos. Guys! I have trained hard. I have lost weight. I have had to buy new clothes - top and bottom - to take it into account. Why do I still take such a fat racephoto?
My legs! I have chunky knock knees! Look at Drusy! She's a vision! (Like most celebrities, she is actually tiny when you meet her and even more gorgeous than she looks in this photo). Steve put together this collage and picked the most flattering of the bunch but man! So annoying.

We all relived our experiences last Wednesday on the Runners Roundtable - I had some communication issues and feel I missed it a bit because I was having such a hard time staying on the call.

And so now - on with it. My training for Berlin starts in the middle of June (that gives me 14 weeks to do the 12 week program so I have some time for summer holidays and illness / injury). My focus in the next 3 weeks is to get this ITB niggle sorted AND get into a routine with my cross training regime. Last time, you will recall, I did nothing. I have been going backwards and forwards on ideas but given that I don't have access to a gym I have decided to do some home yoga. To this end I have bought Shiva Rea's Creative Core and Upper Body and The Athletes Guide to Yoga . My sister in law is a very experienced Yoga person and so has promised to go through the DVDs with me and correct my poses as I practise. I have had one go with the Shiva Rea DVD and my arms are still aching...

So I'm now going to post this rather crappy post - I feel it's not very tied together or tidy, but I just need to get it out there to get on with things. I miss you all and will be getting on with my catchup. The rest of life is pretty busy and in a real state of flux as well - I will post about that later I'm sure - but just briefly - I have changed how I work - much more from home - and I am also moving house... So I think I'm going to need the de-stressing aspects of running and training in the next few months. So long my friends - see you soon.

I was just THAT close!

 

And then it all blew up on me! 

Marathon photos phase II

 

That spiderman guy was just painfully full of beans - he was loving it.  I was not. 

 

Full action shot..

 

My loyal support team

 

I don't know what was wrong with my mouth.  I have shown you some decent shots of me in the past - this was taken a good 90 minutes after the finish and I was looking grim... 

Marathon photos - phase 1

 

The photographer, his wife and his godson.. 

 

Coming into view at mile 24/25 ish..  This was my final push - 7:54 min/mile before the cramp slowed me right down to a 12 minute mile pace... 

 

The bobby can see that me and orange man are working this hard... 

 

Oh it really did hurt.. 

Drusy!

 

I finally met Drusy!  She is as lovely as I've always thought and I can't wait to run the Swift Half with her in 2 weeks... 

Carboloading with Dawn and the expo

 

Carboloading with my son and Dawn at Acorn House before heading to the expo.. 

 

Carbs are good.  

 

we intended to.  

 

Meeting up with Liz Yelling - she was very gracious and signed my race number (although this all got washed off in the course of the race..)

I have always relied on the kindness of strangers..

Well I haven't actually but I did on Sunday. But that's at the end of this story.

In the beginning there was insomnia. Saturday night to be precise. And the day had started so well! My wonderful sister-in-law took my energetic 6 year old out all day. I resisted all tempations to go and meet friends for lunch in London and instead, after a brief 1.6 mile loosener in the early hours, I sat on my bed and watched the Wire. I had a brief nap, and sipped some more water and ate some more carbohydrates. Evening came and then night. I fell asleep for 30 mins but when I woke at 10pm and that was it. I was wide awake. The adrenalin was coursing through my veins and I just could not sleep. This never happens to me - when I do suffer from insomnia it takes the form of waking up at 4am and worrying. This was not sleeping. Midnight came. 1 o'clock. 2 o'clock. I was tossing and turning trying every trick I knew and still - ping! - my eyelids shot open. I must have fallen asleep, finally, after 2. The alarm woke me at 5:30 and I was wide awake. At this point I felt no ill effect from my broken night and I was jangling with nerves. After my prerace breakfast (granola, banana, honey and yoghurt) I woke up my husband - who I had kept awake with my tossing and turning - and he drove me to Charing Cross station (and he sort of kinda woke up and defrosted enough to wish me good luck) where I caught the first train out to Maze Hill. In the past years trains have been cancelled and broken down, leaving runners to walk 2M to the start, so I was taking no chances. This train was still fairly empty and finding our way to the start in was easy. I saw the 10 rhino costumes from some way away and whiled away the hours before the race chatting to other rhino runners, particularly Kenneth, who had run the Atacama desert race and the Marathon des Sables, both in a rhino costume. We talked about race strategy and he told me that Mike Gratton, a former winner of the London marathon and now a more mature, pot-bellied superfast runner and coach, had told him that all this "holding back until the half-marathon point was nonsense – the beginning is when you feel strong and you should just go for it”. Fateful words? Perhaps.

I have not been totally honest with anyone really about what my race strategy was before the race. Not with you all on my blog – because I knew the wiser among you would advise against it. Not to my running friends because, well, the wiser would counsel against what I was intending. My strategy, of course, was to see how fast I could go. I knew I had got faster, I knew that I could get within shouting distance of a BQ. I knew that, if everything went my way, I might even get my BQ. And dammit – I wanted to know how fast I could run.

So after the usual queueing for loos and lining up at the start I crossed the line fairly quickly and – stopped for a potty break within the first mile. Mindful of all the notices warning against soiling public property I wasted a good minute (believe me, this minute will haunt me) waiting for a portapotty. But after that – well I went off like a bat out of hell. I just ran fast. I had been given a good starting pen so there wasn’t too much weaving about – most people were sort of at my speed – but I realized pretty quickly that my Garmin was slightly off the mile markers. Nonetheless Miles 1 – 11 flew by (quick Garmin splits – 9:51 (damn that potty!), 8:02, 8:03, 7:41, 8:17, 8:11, 8:17, 8:16, 8:16, 8:21, 8:23). The bit I dreaded – around the Cutty Sark – was congested but not to0 bad and I emerged across Tower Bridge and headed for the halfway point. Mile 12 went by in 8:18, mile 13 in 8:26 and passing the halfway point I realized I had broken my PR in the half marathon (which I set in March of this year). Now when I ran that half mary I was disappointed because I knew I could go faster but I did not intend to PR in the full. I knew that I was going too fast if I was doing this. But by this stage it had got hot, I was in the full sun and I all I could think was “well if I blow out I blow out. I’m going to stretch this out as long as I can". And I did. All through the hot sunny bits of East London I powered ahead, barely looking around me, grabbing water and popping Enduralytes and managing to wedge down one gel. Mile 14 8:25, mile 15 8:28, Mile 16 7:46, Mile 17 8:45, mile 18 8:42, mile 19 8:57, mile 20 8:32. By this stage I had finished the long quieter bit out to the East of London back and was beginning to roar along the Thames embankment where the crowds were 10 deep and roaring out my name. I was panting, counting to a 100. I could hear people shouting out my name but, unlike other races I did not reach out and thank people. I just went on, gasping for the mile markers. I kept checking my pace band and I was still on course for the 3:45. Mile 21 8:19, mile 22 8:33, mile 23 8:36, mile 24 8:19, mile 25 7:54 and then.

Then it was over. As I rounded the corner at the House of Parliament I noted, to my surprise, that everyone was suddenly overtaking me. And then I realized this was because I had gone into slow motion. My legs had completely seized up. I had felt bits of cramp earlier on, and had even pulled over to get a spectator to open my little case (because I couldn’t manage it) to get out some Enduralytes. But this was it. And just as close as it came, I could feel my BQ going away. And the real struggle began. I staggered up Birdcage Walk, barely able to think from the effort of moving ahead. At this stage I was pumping my arms hard just to move. I fell, and it was relief not to be running, but I willed myself up and back on my feet again. And then I fell again and I could not get up – my legs were sticking out straight and shaking. The ambulance people shot up to me and I screamed at them (I was primal at this stage people, not my normal polite self) to ask them to get me up. They said they would put me on a stretcher. “Not now” I thought, “not after all this effort”. I screamed to the crowds, piled up deeply behind the barriers, to jump over and help me. Two men did immediately – defying the police who I could hear shouting at them to get back behind the barriers – and then I shouted at the crowds again “Help me to get going”. And they roared my name. “GO PETRA GO”. And so off I limped. I remember seeing the 600M to go sign and thinking “I can’t do this” but I staggered on and on and finally I crossed the finish. 3:47:17. 2 minutes and 17 seconds off a BQ and an automatic good for age entry to London 2010 (clarification - I was 2 mins and 17 seconds off an automatic entry. No automatic entry for me). . But 25 minutes ahead of my previous personal record, and about 70 minutes ahead of my first marathon.

I staggered to the luggage area, asking everyone for bottles of water and drinking them as soon as I could. I told myself I could not stop till I got to the Save the Rhino area and I must have looked like a zombie wandering around until I found it. But then I did and it was like coming home. I was embraced and led to a massage table where people took off my shoes and worked on me for half an hour until my legs had stopped shaking. Despite the heat – by this stage it was an amazing 25 degrees in London, bright blue skies – I was shivering and so I sat in foil blankets in my sweatsuit munching on crisps, a sandwich and drinking a beer. Slowly coming back to life.

I am going to end this race report here – there are so many reflections to be made and so many thoughts I have had since – but that’s for another post and a bit more time. For now – this is what happened.

And before you say anything – I am thrilled. Yes I pushed it too hard. Yes I did not fuel correctly during the race. Maybe, if I had slept better and hadn’t peed, I could have done a BQ. But I know that, for the first time in my life and given life’s uncontrollables, I gave this race absolutely everything I could possibly have given it. There was NOTHING left in the tank. Nothing. And so I am thrilled. That BQ will come one day. But for now, I am my own champion. For all the times where I feel I mess up – and believe me, these moments come thick and fast – this time I didn’t. I did the absolute best I could do. And that is a fantastic feeling.

A quick update

A quick update on the day before the race:

• Met Drusy at the expo yesterday. Can't post the photo as I left the cable for my camera at home but she is wonderful and despite the slight "blind date" fear just before we met we got on like a house on fire. Can't wait to get to know her better at the Swift Half in 4 weeks.
  
• For the first time ever, I have taken it easy the day before the race. My wonderful sister-in-law has taken my son off to explore London, my husband is attending a wedding (I declined on the basis that I was running tomorrow) and I have done some very brief errands and have been at my sister-in-law's house, sipping water and gently carboloading, all day. I even had a nap! So far, so good. Slightly eerie watching DVDs in the daytime though - I think it's been a good 15 years since I last did that..
  
• And there is online tracking - you can track me here if you type in my race number 43789.

Will be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to make my way across London to Greenwich. Thank you for all your messages of support, here and on FaceBook. You will all be very much on my mind tomorrow - without you I don't think I'd be there. I'll talk to you on the other side of the finishing line.