So I left my last post on a high. I'd PB'd by over 10mins , with no injury ascertained as a result. However, the days after- I was dying. Your usual achy legs etc... I surprisingly managed to drag myself out of bed with great difficulty to get into university for 1pm. I decided to lay off the running for the next couple of days, to recover. Lone and behold my bone idle, lazy student self kicked in. With my final assignment deadlines due too, running seemed to fall low on my priority list. Unfortunately. As well as my fiancé finally getting two weeks holiday off work. A week had passed. I'd probably walked my dogs 4 times in the week. Which was probably the most I moved due to containing myself in my room, cooped infront of my laptop scream feverishly attempting to bullshit my essay for Enviromental History. The weekend loomed and I was at work Saturday and Sunday. Again no training.
Silverstone was a week away. Thought it's fine, I won't push myself to PB, I'll take it easy. The course is the infamous F1 race track so it shouldn't be too hilly. The course description was mostly flat. It came to Thursday. T-minus 4 days en counting. My fiancé had gone home until Saturday night. I started to feel abnormally weird. A feeling I know all too much. Safe to say I was at the walkin centre at 10pm whereby the doctor confirmed my worst enemy of an infection. A Urinary Tract Infection. In a nutshell your stomach feels bloated, your belly is in pain and it generally feels like your pissing out razor blades, it doesn't stop there. You also feel the need to wee an awful lot. I was completely gutted. I'd gone near on a year without one, I used to get them like every other month. If you've never had one, just pray you don't!
Trimopthrime (sic) were prescribed of which I took immediately. I said to the doc that I had a half marathon. She's advised me if I still felt no improvement to not run. I was in work the following day and managed to keep the water flowing through my body to help pass the infection through. I still felt fairly bad. But I needed the money, plus I was on decking and didn't want to let my colleague down. Saturday, busy, busy, busy shift. I'd had my traditional McDonald's lunch at an early 1pm and got let out on time. I then went to the cinema with my dad and his girlfriend. Consumed some nachos. I got home and Mr Fiancé was sitting there with a cuppa for me. I was excited because he was finally going to be able to come to one of my events, however the fear my infection was crossing my mind all to well.
After a really bad sleep I awoke. The race wasn't going to start till noon. Dad picked us up and we were on our way. We had to go to the other side of Coventry due to him forgetting his big jacket. I was like:
"Crap, Dad. The magazine with final race instructions says you have to be there for 10:30am at the latest."
It was coming up to 10pm and we hadn't even got out of Coventry yet! PANIC OVERLOAD. I thought an hour's drive away, it's a Sunday motorway / A roads should be fairly clear. It was partly true. However, a road work capped the speed limit to 30mph, causing our journey to be delayed. GOSH SAKE. DO THEY NOT KNOW ITS RACE DAY!
We had about 3 miles to go and we hit traffic hard. They weren't joking when they said it takes a long time to get into the stadium car park, hence the 10:30am arrive time. Already I was feeling pretty crappy. The car journey seemed to make me feel really sick. I'd realised. I'd taken antibiotics, with vitamin C which are advised to be taken WITH FOOD. I was stupid and didn't eat anything for faffing around. Then it hit me. Bugger, I hadn't eaten anything properly since 1pm the day before, of which I'd obviously burned off whilst doing he rest of my shift. I don't think I've ever felt so bad before race day. But I thought to myself I'm not wasting £28. If I have to, I'll walk. No biggie!
They were not kidding when they said it was 20minute walk to the start either. But, i made it with just 3 minutes to spare. I lined up. Looking at the sheer size off the track ahead.
And we were off!!!
Me, being me. I went out too fast. Considering I hadn't ran in 2 weeks. I dismissed the idea that my fitness would have dropped quite a considerable amount due to being stationary for the latter of the weeks before. 5km time came in at 29:42. Not bad. However. I felt awful still. Pace was over the place. My emotional state was deteriorating very quickly. Considering it was a nice day, which was lovely as it was early March, it wasn't all great for the fact it seemed there was no air flow around the track. 10k came along at a struggle. But still a good for me considering my form. 01:02:53.
After this- it went all tits up. My energy depleted due to lack of food and going out too quick. I also forgot to take my hand bottle from my dad too. So my infection was stinging due to dehydration and lack of fluids. Every water station I took advantage and kept hold of until they were entirely finished. After 6 and half miles. I had to walk. I felt slightly disorientated. But I wasn't going to give up. My legs felt like hell. The dreaded 'runners wall' had taken advantage of my physical and mental disadvantages. At 9 miles I was shuffling, running for a maximum of 3-5 minutes before abruptly going back to a brisk walk. At this point I was more annoyed at myself. Why? You're an idiot, why didn't you run after the 2 weeks? Why didn't you eat?
By this point, I'd wolfed down 2 SIS gels in hope they would replace some form of energy. I wasn't expecting miracles. But they did the job. Or so it seemed. 9 and a half - 10miles in my dad had rang me to see where I was. At 10 miles and a half. Lone and behold they'd timed it well. They were there shouting encouraging words, I was walking and felt ashamed, I must admit, slurping of my gel. Lucazade sport and water slushing around. The mere excess of suger was causing me to feel sick. I soldiered on. I kept on telling myself, everything comes to an end. Mile 11 and 12 seen my worse pace for a long time at 11:58. The finishing mile seemed to never end. I was done. Physically and mentally drained. Questioning once again my ability to actually complete this marathon in October that I'd signed up to.
I crossed the line at 02:24:50. Not as bad as id anticipated. I was still that little bit faster than my Birmingham half time. So it wasn't all that disappointing. However, it remained in the back of my head. What if I'd trained and was in full health? I think I could have come close to another PB! But that said. You can't always get PB's in every event that you do. However, you need think. Even if you didn't. You still completed 13.1 miles, as continuously quoted a bad run is still better than no run at all.
I found dad, Helen and Jake fairly quickly. We started to walk back. I kept on saying to Jake I felt really uneasy. He was like "Well, Coley you have just ran a half marathon". But no. I knew how that felt. This wasn't normal. I dismissed the feeling, putting down to lack of food. In the car we'd stopped off. My car sickness was getting really bad. Down to the point I had to empty my finishing bag onto the chair and use it as a possible puke bag. We stopped off at McDonald at a service station and I kind hobbled, kind of sprinted to the toilets to attempt to be sick, in order to make me feel better. Nope, never happened. So I got some McDonald's chips and felt a little better. Back in the car we went. We'd pulled into the opposite side of Coventry and I felt REALLY BAD! Dad had to pull over at a park for me to run and be sick. All them chips, what a waste! I felt heaps better after though. There was dad leading on the railings that surrounded the park with his banana milkshake, watching me being sick, as well as laughing!! His response "I'm just making sure you don't collapse. Seen as though your fiancé doesn't care and is still in the car!"
All in all. A monstrosity of a race. Of which I probably shouldn't have done. But I did it. My fiancé seen me and was exceedingly proud. I found the race less tedious as anticipated and the support was good. But no where near that of Birmingham, but what do you expect. I don't know whether I'd do it again. But knowing me I will because I want to prove to myself I could have got a better time in full health. It was a good experience and worth the money. I mean come on, tickets into Silverstone range from £100-200 a ticket. I got to run on the track for £28! I did refrained from going past dad et al making F1 noises. Hahaha.
Tip of the week. Please don't run a half marathon with an infection and lack of calories/ carbs! Don't kid yourself. You will deteriorate pretty quickly and feel like crap throughout!!
Next up. Warwick Half. Again my training is weak. So I'm just expecting a better race than Silverstone, with no walking, but no PB in mind. I'm concentrating on not getting Ill due to everyone coming down with this sickness fluey bug thing. Wish me luck amigos!
