So near enough all the hard training and long runs are over until race day! Ooo, I’m getting so excited. I’ve got under 1 week until I fly out to Belfast.
I’ve been training since the 16th December. If you have followed, or read about my debut marathon, you’ll see that I only ever trained up to 16 miles. So when race day come my mental strength failed me, and I was was reduced to run/walk from around 17/18 miles and struggled. In my opinion looking back, I set off way too fast. Even though I was relatively fit then and was hitting good mile paces in shorter runs. Through not training past 16 miles I underestimated the endurance of the marathon. To date, I have completed 1x 15 miler, 2x 18 miles 1x 22 miles. I have by far trained better than 2016! It’s taken me 3 years, a pregnancy and having a 1 year old to finally brave the distance again.
My overall training has been great. I trained every day in January bar one. February seen me gain a major chesty cough with a sinus infection that fortunately I got on top of with antibiotics. March has been consistent. All my long runs have been completed. Which is a major bonus. So far I’ve missed on run this week just gone which was a 3-4 mile run.
My first 15 mile attempt got me worried that I was broken, or that my body was refusing to live up to expectations. The last 3-4 miles seen me get immense pain running down my lower back. To the extent I nearly couldn’t walk the half mile home. Luckily I bathed and it was fine. I had flash backs to when I did my first marathon. Remembering the same pain. It made me think. Do I really want to do this after all? I said to myself I’d give it another go. 18 miles was to following week.
I planned the 18 miles on my phone. I was yet again going into unknown territory. But this time I decided to really slow my pace down and see how I got on. Overall, from what I remember I was stopping, pausing and looking to see if I was going to the correct way quite a fair bit. But apart from that, and having to cross an over flowing river bank it was a really lovely route which I'd love to do again. I felt tired for sure. A bit scared that I'd still have to cover a further 8 miles on the day. But I was optimistic. Then I got an upper respiratory infection. Or more commonly known as a cold. I was out 15th Feb until the 26th and that was only a short 2.5 mile run which was really uncomfortable. I began to doubt whether I'd be able to run the half marathon on the 3rd March. More to the point was it worth putting myself through it to maybe get another set back. If you've kept up to date, you'll see that I did in fact do this run and I was fine and gained a post pregancy PB.
In March I noticed that my pace was faltering. I was going back to being slow and struggling to maintain a 9:50 min mile pace. But this is to be expected. I'm hoping to ramp up the speed for the Birmingham 10k at the end of May.
On 31/3, I ran commuted from the in laws where I base myself in Tamworth to my mums house in Coventry. I've cycled the route and always invisioned running it one day. It far exceeded expectations. It was beautiful. I was half expecting the drivers to be a bit angry because most of the journey was unpaved. But they were all really good. Passing really wide for me. The initial route was only 16 miles. The last 2 dragged me to hell and back. Now I think that was more mental. I envisioned 18 miles and it'd take me straight to my mums front door. But then you can imagine the utter disgusted when I had to make up a further 2 miles more. I finished this run and had a quick coffee, then got on my bike and cycled to work! Everyone couldn't believe that I'd ran all the way to Coventry and were like. Why are you here. Shouldn't you be resting. Not doing a night shift.
Cathedral to Castle 10 miler meant an easy week for me. I'll be finishing the write up for this shortly. But it was an amazing route and sparked another new route for my 22 miles that I had planned for the following week.
The next week I only clocked up 5 miles in one run then ran the 22 miles. I just really struggled to get out with Jakes shifts.
I planned to run to Lichfield and back, it was around 23 miles when I planned it on my phone and I was really excited for it. Mum kindly had Freya over night, as I explained it was my last long run and I NEEDED to get it out of the way. I left at 9:40am. The first 4 miles seen me get into the rhythm of things. I reached Lichfield and was heading back on myself by 12 miles. My plan was to head through the firing range in a place called Whittington. So me being me, earphones in, not a care in the world carried on through. Having flash backs from the last week of what beauty was to come going through to Hopwas Wood then onto the canal. Then BANG, literally I seen over my right shoulder all these army guys lying on the floor with a massive gunshot interrupting my music. I stopped. Gathered it was probably really unsafe to play a human target and run to the other side and went back on myself to find that I'd completely disregarded a sign which ready if something along the time of, 'if red flag is flying high, no entry due to soldiers shooting practise' . I'm so glad I seen the guys and didn't get rubgy tackled and or shot and told off by the British army. With that, a brief pause to look at my phone and see if there was an alternative, safer route. I was 15 miles in and starting to feel the milage in my legs. Luckily there was a road which lead me back to the path I'd originally taken from 8 miles I got home successfully tired and really pissed off that Jake used all the hot water knowing the amount of milage I was to cover, Ooo and he left the water in the bath to further piss me off and rub it in my face. It was paining. But I woke up the next day with no niggles and felt really good considering.
I ran on the treadmill for 3 miles after a day off on the Monday. But the tickle in my throat and chest made it apparent I was getting another cold. I managed a 3 miler on the Thursday, but it was humid and I really struggled. By this time the cold was full blown. I struggled to breathe at work on sat/Sunday and by the tuesday, green snot galore. I was getting another blimmin sinus infection. I managed to get some penicilin. Which had, in the previous months stopped it in its tracks fairly quickly. But this time it wasn't taking any of it. I went to the walk in centre and got amoxicilin, which I've been on now for 3 days and it's still taking its time getting out of my system. I'm still feeling the pressure, but no where near the same severity of congestion that I'd felt since the Friday. Which is hopefully a good thing.
Obviously, it's typical of my immune system. My step mum today even said on the phone. "Gosh you're always ill before a big race. It's surely just normal now. You'll be fine for Sunday." and I've had my mother carry some words of wisdom along the lines of 'Nicole. Don't stress you've even said you covered more in training that your first marathon. You've got the long runs out the way. You'll be fine. There are plenty more attempts when it will go perfectly with no hiccups.' I live to see the day.
I'm really hoping she's right. I had a shot at the treadmill last night after work it was okayish. 5k at marathon pace which is I'm hoping to be around or just over 12 mins per mile. For now I'll try another get in another run. But then it'll be to rest, prepare and pack for flying out to Belfast on Saturday evening. Wish me luck.
