After the great runs of last week, the peak of which was my smoother-than-expected-20-miler, I suppose I did feel somewhat like Superman. So it was only fitting that this week, on trying to leap a building in a single bound, I snagged my pride on my stupidity and messed up this week’s repeat 20 mile run.
I was so busy with work, dad stuff and other family commitments, I completely forgot I’m a runner. I can’t think why – I had, after all, made three runs at 6.30 in the a.m. totalling 20 miles during the week – yet it had escaped me to keep digesting the necessary food and water required for such a routine. And that’s why, to my horror, I began to lose energy at mile nine of this week’s 20 miler. Even with my energy gels, I still didn’t have the oomph I had compared to the previous week. At mile ten, I bumped into an old colleague from Virgin Money. I stopped briefly to chat to her, resisting the temptation to ask her to call for an ambulance. Then, using the last of my energy to form a smile and say farewell, I staggered on, gradually getting slower and slower, even contemplating calling Mrs K to come and fetch me when I reached mile 15. Reminding myself that this is exactly what could happen on the Marathon itself, I knew I had to keep running. So, I ran to new self-imposed milestones ahead again and again, until I only had two miles to go, then told myself it would be silly to stop now. The last two miles were terrible – the small amount of sun that had made me a sweaty wreck disappeared under a blanket of cloud, which promptly turned into a snow flurry, transforming my head into a coconut covered dessert. I arrived back at Castle Kirkendall, freezing, dehydrated and limp of leg, looking more like a broken Batman than the Man of Steel. Mrs K became Alfred, covering me in two blankets (one of which was the dog’s) and Number One Son’s duvet. I lay beneath this impromptu life support system, shivering like an expectant volcano, wondering what to do first – vomit, cry or drink my chocolate milk. I now know that I can run a long distance while feeling/looking like a zombie, but I have no intention of making that mistake again.
Ironically, the day before that calorie depleting experience, I had an Easter Cake Sale at Virgin Money. My daughter Eve and her chef boyfriend Bobby, spent all day making cakes and shortbread biscuits which were so popular that I raised much money. As it was such a success and only two people had to go to A&E, I’m going to do it again this Friday and hopefully, will raise even more money for Cancer Research UK and Asthma UK. My sponsorship running total now stands at £1,444.81 (£1,792.02 with Gift Aid), thanks to my latest sponsors, Terry & Lyne, The Blacks, The Sorrells, Helen Filby, Adrian, Marc, Ben and Loz. Don’t forget, it’s never too late to donate – just visit my Virgin Money Giving fund raising page and hit that Donate Now button!