The last post seen me come back with a bang from stupidly stepping on a sewing needle! Ha. (Which is all scarred over now- yey!)
In short, 3 Sunday's before race day, I went on a long 9 miler. I absolutely loved it and I was exceedingly proud of my time due to being a work all day. The next morning I felt I niggle- a niggle in the bum to be completely honest with you! I was gutted... As well as that, I gained the cold and flu virus after my January exams, going into semster 2.
After Google doctoring and self diagnosing, I came to the conclusion that I'd pulled or over extended at the hip causing the pain in my glute on the right hand side. I had a spin class on the Monday, which didn't do much damage. I didn't feel it until after Tuesday and gave it a slight rest (*cough* attended mums tone class). Wednesday, I decided to go to running club (yes, I am now officially a member of Northbrook AC!). The session was hill reps! Joys- my fave -_- . I also decided to run commute 2 miles there and back. A mile into the commute, it became apparent it wasn't fully healed. The pain running downhill was indescribable. I should have just turned back and left running with Northbrook until the next week. But it's me, honestly, that was not going to be an option in Snailtastic Coley's book! Surprisingly, going uphill was fine. It was just going down that near brought a tear to my eye. But I did it and then shuffled moped home- painfully, with my bottom lip scraping the floor, soaking wet too.
Thursday, I attended Spin again and Step and Tone. Spin was fine but Step was a struggle- again, I shouldn't have really participated. But i bloody did it anyway (when will I learn ey'). The weekend seen me working and rubbing deep heat into my right arse cheek and smelling increasingly of eucalyptus oil- always fun, like. I was also crying to my mum on the Friday in total agony and in compete disarray.
I rang the doctors to try and get something stronger for the pain. But lone and behold, unless you're truly dying. You WILL wait a minimum of 2 weeks to be seen. I said to the receptionist. "There's no point. It'll more than likely be better by then. I'll just suck it up deal with it". Absolutely useless my doctors are! Frustrates me.
So from then, I was popping paracetamol and ibuprofen until the following Wednesday. After having to miss my 10mile run due to this pain in the arse injury, I began to get really anxious about my upcoming half marathon. The train tickets had been booked for me and Jake (who couldn't get the dates off work anyway!). The outlook wasn't looking great, it was going to be a possible Did Not Finish. But it's me again after all. (I hope to never hold the title of a Did Not Start in my snailtastic career.)
I laid off running for a week and up until the day of my half, I didn't run any longer than that 9 mile distance for fear of causing anymore harm. I attended running club on the Wednesday night and to my utter dismay fell off a pavement- a fecking pavement (I began to start thinking that running was giving me some sort of evil hint to steer clear for while). I fell off the pavement because of a husky dog being problematic for its owners on the path. Like ouch. Fell onto my ankle, which gave a slight wince of pain. Never fear, I still managed to continue running with the group. But I took it easy. There was slight pain in my ankle. But to my surprise- nothing more came of it.
Overtime for Wednesday and Thursday and Friday from work! It seen me being extremely lazy. Friday, I did a steady 4 miles on the treadmill. Saturday night I had a brilliant night out in Rugby for a best friends birthday, but it came at a consequence. I was feeling rough, having not come home till 5am and being up for work and in for 10am. Hadn't even been a month, and I'd gained another cold virus! Sore throat you name it. Poorly chest. A week before race day- could my illnesses and injuries just give me a break. Like, seriously? Missed another long run.
Monday, nothing but uni 4-6pm. No Spin class unfortunately either. Tuesday missed mums 10:30am tone, but I went to Zumba. Wednesday a steady 200m and 400m threshold run reps on Butchers lane with running club. Thursday, I attended Spin and Step and Tone, which just about killed me off. My chest was so painful, proved by my heart rate being sky high, my snot was green and yellow too. I was really getting concerned. However, my butt was fully healed and I found out I was successfully in for my 3rd consecutive year of gaining a place for Two Castles 10km! Which has begrudgingly gone to a ballot this year due to high demand and fairness rulings.
Friday 7:42am train to Crewe. Then from Crewe to Holyhead, where I met my Nanny Bunny. No extreme coughing or shivers. But when I did cough the mucus was thick. It's been piddling it down up here since I arrived. Typical of Wales at this time of year really. Did not think of that when I registered to run the half marathon did I? Aha.
Now for the juicy bit. Sunday morning, 5th March 6:15am RACE DAYYYYYY. I'm feeling ready to rumble. My aunty and I set off at 7:35am and got there for 25 past 8, the race was due to start promtly at 9am. Again horrific rainy conditions. If I hadn't gained pneumonia now. I sure as hell will be of high risk after running this!
My typical dodgy stomach made its apparence and after that, 9:50am came and went rather quickly. By this point, my aunty left to walk back up and over Menai bridge to spectate.
I toddled off to the 2:30 starting pen, constantly having to use my fingers as winder screen wipers because I got up late and couldn't find my contact lenses thus I was running in my glasses.
No gun, just a count down for the official start.
Mile 1: Over the bridge and the turning back to come under the bridge was congested as hell, resulting in me gaining a depressing 10:03min/mile. Everyone was so close knit, due to the road being so narrow. I didn't like this. But I suppose I was thinking it for the best due to my chest. There was no need for me to go speeding off and burning myself out. I was aiming for a max 2:30 finish. 2:20 minimum.
Mile 2: Everyone was kind of finding their paces and opening up a bit. This also meant that I was gaining my own momentum and felt at ease. No major inclines either. I was pleasently surprised. I was running a half marathon in Wales- without any hills. Surely there is some sort catch, no? Mile 2 was a 9:38min/mile. Every 5 minutes I was wiping my glasses with my fingers in a hope to be able to see a little bit more infront of me, my nose was drizzling snot too. Yucky.
5km: Took me just over 30 minutes. I was well on the way to believing I could be in with a chance of a 2:30 finish. No major inclines once again. But due to the coast road it was fairly secluded.
Now mile 5: half way into this I started to gain a massive stitch. I got on with it. Tried my infamous breathing out on the side as the opposite foot strikes. Normally does the job. But here I hit the first true incline. My legs and chest were already taking a beating and the rain was still heavy as ever. I thought, that's it- I'm a goner. The routes just going to get worse. I can't do it. Wahhhh. At this point, the faster runners were already dashing back up to the bridge to finish probably 11 miles I'm already which thus means I passed the winner male. Who came in at 1:12mins!!!!! Lots of spectator in Beaumaris.
Mile 6-7 were particularly hard. A SIS gel had to be taken. I'd say this was the biggest of the inclines throughout the whole course. So steep. But I ran through it. Occasionally closing my eyes and pretending it wasn't under my feet. This seems to work for me. However, make sure you have some space between you and the other person infront. You do not want a collision. Again, another secluded mile. Hardly any spectators.
Mile 8-9: Lovely views! The most picturesque half I've every done may I add. Just a shame of the weather. Here, I was flagging. It was to be expected. But I was still in a state of shock at how flat this course actually was.
Mile 10: My aunty and cousin were waiting for me. How blessed I was to see them. They got me through the remainder of my half. My aunty videoed me too and I had the most delayed of reactions when my cousin was shouting. I was like who the hell is that? Then I started waving frantically. I was soaked to the brim. I hadn't been able to feel my thighs from mile 2, and my shorts were riding up my jacksie, like my arse and thunder thighs were eating my shorts causing me to occasionally jump in the air mid stride to pull them down. Not the most flattering of things I've had to do in my life.
Mile 11: Hard, hard, hard. Another hill but it was over a longer distance. As much as I dislike doing hill training. It must have been a God send in disguise. My legs were crying at me to give up. Many had given into the hill and proceeded to a walk. But not me. I wasn't going to stop now. Not with 2.10 miles to go. Here, another God send. High 5 gels. Ahh heaven. I gulped to my hearts content, hoping it would like give me a little buzz. At this point. After the hill, I synchronised my pace with a gentleman, his silence, determination and consistent pace kept me going. I lost him after that mile. Shame it was.
Mile 12: That High 5 gel must of semi digested, because I initiated Duracell bunny mode. Jai
Ho! Came in in my ears which made me think of my Nanny-noo, who absolutely loved dancing to this in mums Zumba classes. I felt on top of the moon and realised, looking at my watch that I was in PB territory. I was so close. I was gritting my teeth, speaking words of encouragement to myself too along the way. I then stumble upon a very tall man, a member of Warrington Triathletes if I remember correctly, whom I herd shouting at 12.60 miles. "Shut up legs, you're nearly there". I laughed and we both screaming it out together. This made me chuckle.
Mile 13: I gained, probably my fasted spilt during a half at 8:52! Which I thought was pretty good for me. Not having ran this distance since October in the Brum Half.
0.10 left to go. I kicked up my road running beep beep phase! Gaining a 7:57 split for that 0.10. Over the line I sprinted.
I knew I did good. I grabbed an orange, seen my aunty and cousin at the finish with my medal and then got changed in the Port-a-loo. I couldn't feel my hands and nearly fell in the loo causing it to rock and nearly fall over because I was that damp, and couldn't put my legs in my dry trousers. Then I looked at my unofficial time on Mr TomTom...
My Half Marathon PB time stood at 2:11:16, I gained this almost a year to the date at my hometown Half in Coventry.
In the Anglesey Half Marathon, I gained an astounding time of 2:05:37!!!!! A new PB had been aquired. Not only did I come to the race feeling shitty overall with having gained 2 colds in under a month, but I had battled an injury and ran no further than 9miles in training. Even if this course was probably the second/third flattest I'd encountered out of my now, 9 halfs marathons, It was done- just like that. I felt fit and endorphin rush crazy. Again, a tear came out of my eyes due to the achievement I had just gained. Ironically, this weekend, my cousin said, "I don't know how you can like running as a hobby" This Is why i love it. It will surprise you even when you're in doubt of yourself as a whole, all you have to do is lace up and go. You have no contract, no full commitment only you can decide.
