As some will already know, the Birmingham Black Country Half was my first ever half marathon challenge back in 2015. I feel i have come a long way since then, in my own person, as well as my general fitness and running ability. So let the my running narrative begin...
Because this run is a Saturday, i had to take it as holiday from work. Massive cock up on the rota-they'd put me in to work. I was like noooooooooooo. My main supervisor wasn't in when i realised. So, as you can imagine i was literally crapping myself... But i had evidence and noting that i'd requested the day off. Anyways, after discussing it over with my other supervisor (and after the half marathon) my main supervisor apologized, i had indeed put it on my running events sheet. I absolutely love my workplace, they've been exceptional with giving me my running events off.
So the day before on the Friday, i was working. My dad had gained a full time job and had been religiously working the week as well as the weekends. At this stage, i didn't even bother bringing it up to him, assuming he'd be working anyway and getting train times in order. He rang me saying,
"You have a run this Saturday don't you? well I've told work i cant work this Saturday. Pick up time?"
Much love for this man, he's only ever missed like two running events since i started this mad obsession.
I got home from work and done my ritualistic getting everything ready and putting it on the floor for the morning to come. With a 12:10 starting wave (like last year), i prayed to the heavens that the weather wasn't as hot as it was last year! I had flash backs of running along a tedious canal tow path, with half my body in the shade and half exposed - with absolutely no sun protection at all, resulting in me near on gaining heat stroke. Looking at the forecast, it was going to be cloudy and showers. But every time i check the weather, it changes!
I went to sleep and woke up feeling fresh as the day. Looking out of my bedroom window to see glorious overcast weather and the spitting of the rain... Maybe there is a God!
My dad literally dropped me round the corner from the start and left to get to Birmingham and await my arrival (And maybe go shopping a tad!). I had just over an hour to kill, upon walking into the Boathouse start line, i had then realized i'd forgotten my handheld water bottle, it was in dads car. I was absolutely gutted. I don't think I've ran a half marathon without one. As i will come to explain later on, it was the burden of the event that day, and it without a doubt added a few annoying minutes to my official time!
It was poring down, i was in compression socks, shorts and a t shirt! But i managed to huddle into some shelter and wait for my time wave to congregate for the official race day instructions. I'm sure i put an est. finish time as 2:10, back when i signed up. I think i was being too optimistic. Especially because I'd forgotten my water bottle.
Two SIS Gels tuck down my crop top, i was set off. I had my watch as well as putting Strava on so i could hear my mile splits.
My first mile came in at 9:23. I was pretty pleased, but bear in mind, this is suppose to fast and flat due to the nature of the canal path route.
2nd mile: 9:37. I was starting to tell myself that i'd see how i felt after 5km and if i was struggling. I would turn it down a notch.
5km came in at 29:55. Good pacing if my maths was correct, but i could tell my pace was easing off a little. The first water station was here. I had forgotten due to the low keyness of this event the water was given to you from the canal barge in plastic cups! Have you ever attempted running and drinking out of one of those things before, it near impossible. To my horror, i had to walk to retain my fluids.
Mile 5- THE DREADED COSELEY TUNNEL. It was pitch black and exceedingly slippery. Causing me to walk the majority of it's 360m eerie, mind boggling presence. It produced my third worst time split of the day, at 10:33 min/mile. Yey rain... NO, waterlogged footpaths due to a large influx of runners being set off before me, stampeding through the same narrow areas. Parts for the next mile made me think i'd had to ditch my beloved New Balance after the race. :(
10km 1:1:23. Even though my pace was deteriorating ever so slightly, along with the tunnel and water station literal stop, i still felt fairly fresh at this point. For a half marathon, half way through, i was impressed with my time. From this point i aimed to pick out a lovely man in a red top to focus on staying behind.
Skip to my loo. Mile 9- Worst split of the day @10:51. At this point, i was tired and sick of the scenery. It felt as if i was running, but going nowhere in a sense.
Mile 11- My red topped man staggered to a walk... Nooo. I even made the comment to this fellow runner,
"Please don't stop now. I was relying on following you to the finish!"
his response was, "I can't physically run anymore".
I gave him a tap on the back for encouragement and overtook, for fear i'd stop too. I did not want to stop again! At this point there has been 3 water station walks and a reduced to walk tunnel!
Towards mile 12, i started to get that feeling of not stopping because i was so close to glory feeling, but the fatigue was well and truly present. The SIS Gels had helped, but it was going to be my own mental strength to get me over the finish line. Admittedly, the last 3 incline onto the bridges to swap onto the opposite side of the canal brought me top a walk. The sights of a PB below 2:11 were drifting far from thought.
Mile 13... YEY Birmingham, Brindley place. How beautiful thou art! I sprinted over that finish line and collected my medal for a second time. Incredibly proud of my efforts and with an official time of 2:15:16. I swear blind i could have shaved, if not 2 minutes off from water stop walks if i hadn't forgotten my water bottle. And at least 2 and half minutes off, if the Coseley wasn't a pitch black tunnel. I was gutted i didn't PB. On the other hand, i took a look at what a year of consistent running has done for me. Last year, i was 19 and came last out of the 3 few in my category, with a time of 2:58:37. This year, i had knocked an astounding (give or take, my maths is still poo) 43 minutes off that time.
It is amazing to look at how far I've come in a matter of 52/53 weeks and most definitely proves that you don't have to conform and be put off by stereotypes of ectomorphic, long legged fitness junkies to take up this sport. You make it personal to yourself and even though the cause for me starting to run was due to a tragic set of life realities, which in all honestly left a gaping whole in my heart. Pounding the pavements gives me time to refresh those amazing memories i shared with my beloved Nan, Pam, it gives me the will power and sheer determination. It makes me feel invincible within my own 'capabilities', its made me feel real again.
Thank you for reading. As always,
"If you can no longer run with your legs, run with your heart."
