Many of you known by now reading this, I was successful on my marathon debut. But not without an epic journey of emotions, fatigue and wanting to give up!
The week before my marathon I started to get sinus problems and an eery feeling of a cold. I thought "GOD no! Please just let me do next Sunday and do your worst thereafter!" Especially taking you back to January when it took me 3 solid weeks to get over the infection. My head was pounding, behind my eyes, my cheeks, my chest was tight, my teeth were hurting- but no mucus present. I was in a state of pure panic. Googling if I should run with a sinus infection, reading people's experience of doing so. Which were not very optimistic.
On the Monday my mum had to go to get a deep salt spray so I could flush my nasal passages. And she said "look Nicole. I know you really want to do this and you're stubborn like me. But please. You're only near 21 years of age. You have plenty more opportunities to run a marathon. In full Heath. Nobody is going to think any less of you!". But to be honest, my heart sank. I wanted this so bad. I agreed with her to run. If I felt crappy at any stage I'd pull out. As Lisa Jackson states very wisely in her book 'My Pace Or Yours" (fantastic book-read it!) "a did not finish is better than a did not start."
So with this, I decided to lay off running for that week and just read her book for inspiration. I was taking everything from 1000mg's of Vitamin C to chesty cough syrup to Gavisgon.
Thursday had come, and I was in work 10:30-19:00. I felt truly crappy. To the point where I felt like I was going to pass out every time I was wiping a table down. My chest was burning and tight. In the end, my supervisor sent me home. With strict instructions to go to the walkin centre. A 3 hours wait! Ironically I was eavesdropping on a couple next to me. He has a distinct Yorkshire accent and gave the impression that he was running the same marathon that Sunday. The best part was "yeah, I'm shitting it. I've ran no more than a half marathon in training". As you can imagine. It was a reassuring feeling, as I'd only gone as far as 16. Least I wasn't on my own.
The doctor took my temperature, my breathing and said it was the starting of a sinus infection. She advised rest and to keep on flushing my nose.
Friday came all too quickly, I had a minging pressure headache and was due to catch the train with my fiancé at 12:27. That night we just stayed in the bar playing pool. I had a great sleep, but the headache was still lingering.
Saturday, no headache- I felt fresher than I had all week. Pre race nerves were settling in. So we took a toddle into town and visited the aquarium, had some coffee and for dinner, I had lasagne and chips. My apatite wasn't great. But I hear this is normal. I tried to force feed it down. Which I did so successfully. Hoping it wouldn't give me a dodgy stomach on race day morning. I was so excited on the night that I gained about 3-4 hours sleep. My Restless Leg Syndrome haunted me profoundly that night. Due to my inactivity of taking near on a week off running. So with my alarm was set for 5:45am all of my stuff for the morning ahead was laid out ready for me to throw on. Thoughts were buzzing around my head like the morning rush in London.
*alarm buzz* a nice good morning world stretch and getting changed. The sense of worry and agitation still all too present. I had a problem with breakfast, as the our hotel brekky wasn't open till 8am. Which was way to late. I was expecting to be at the starting area by that time. So me and Jake played it safe and just went to McDonald's. There were people that looked like they had a fantastic stress feel, alcohol intense night out and getting their hangover munchies for a lazy day of recovery. The stares that read 'crazy person' all over. With my white compression socks on. My stomach was uneasy. So I settled for plain pancakes and a tea. Then Jake goes "you do realise that tea acts as a laxative!?". Safe to say, I only drank half.
By this time we followed some runners. That looked like they actually knew where to go. Unlike me and Jake. The start was beautiful in the Queens gardens. Marquees being set up. Refreshments. Toilet facilities were ace. They still managed to have toilet paper right through to just before the start. Well done race organisers! I assembled to the start fairly quickly and Jake stood on the other side of the barriers taking photos of my worrisome self. Dictating words of encouragement like. "You got this!" I knew there was a reason why I wanted him to come.
The start was upon me. I averaged out in the first half to about 11:40min/mile. First 3 miles flew by. The views were nice going through West park and not to mention the amazing volunteers and spectators who'd come out to cheer us on by the names on our bibs. The course to this point was flat. I was happy. Content in my stride. The first challenging part was around 10-11 miles. I started to feel the burn in my legs and there was an, what seemed like enormous hill to the point where I shouted to a Marshall "please let there be a downhill after this!" Her response no too canny "erm, maybe!". By this time there was a fairly big gap infront and behind me and it seemed lonely with only a handful of spectators. I kept on saying.
"Come on Nicole. To the Humber bridge. Half way and you can have a break."
Just after I hit the 13.10miles I decided that I needed something to take my mind off the fact I was running. No headphones rule meant I couldn't zone out thoughts like,
"Nicole, love. It's only going to get worse from here!"
I took out my phone and started a live session on Facebook. I was in awe at the amount of people that joined me for that 3-4 minutes of my marathon. People I'd never expect to even give it a second glance joined in. It was utterly breathtaking and I thank the people that joined as it gave me a mile of joy. I was here. I started as I mean to go on. After I finished, I had a whopping 150 views! I felt famous. If I can. I'll try post it at the end of this blog post.
So the Humber Bridge. I'dvstopped and walked for a bit. Just to take in the views. It was magnificent. However it went on for what seemed ages. Like, I know it's a massively long bridge and all. But I was looking at the cars going past like please. Give me a lift. It was at this point, my phone magically fell out of my arm band and smashed on the floor. Luckily it was the glass that broke and my phone was still in working order. I think at this point I was more gutted about my phone then that the pain I was currently in.
Mile 16 was tough. This was where I was going to have to run further than I had ever ran before. The lactic acid was burning. There as a dull ache in my feet, back and shins. I took a gel and a nibbled on a banana. Not to mention the heat was scorching for a September day. Even one marshal said "trust you to pick to do a marathon on the hottest day in Hull in September!"
18-20. More walking than running. I could feel every muscle in my body ache. The sense of giving up was becoming like a heavenly godsend. A fellow relay runner in the accend back onto the Humber Bridge helped me through this mile. She could see the fear of me giving up as I shuffled to a walk. She turned round after passing me and gestured for me to run next to her. We talked for about 2 minutes and fell silent. Her silent companionship was all I needed at that point and made me feel relexed. I didn't get her name. But thank you fellow relay runner! I left her and went infront after encouraging her not to stop. Momma then rang at dead on 18.5 miles and screamed out to everyone at the yard "My baby's at mile 18 and half. She's going to make it!" This had a great effect on me mentally. Even though I was still walk/ running. I walked/ran with a purpose. Faith had been restored. I cheekily put in a single headphone (shhhhhhh. They were banned. You were suppose to use them for fear of getting disqualified!) and played mine and my Nans fave song so loud the spring in my step made me feel on top on the world.
It was at about 21 miles that I'd been following this middle aged man from the start. With a black and orange triathlon vest on, with bright orange compression socks. I got chatting to him for the next mile. He'd been nursing an injury and explained that was why he was going at a slower pace. This was a try run, if you like for the upcoming Yorkshire marathon. He'd done Iron Man UK and a whopping 100miles in 24 hours. What a true inspiration this man was. He also told me a funny story that for his mates 40th they'd signed him up to the 100miles in 24 hours as a joke present, which immediately backfired when he succeeded. Haha. Fair play. After the decent I was struggling to keep up with his 12 min/mile. So I thanked him for keeping my company and left him to go ahead.
21-25 miles. Ergh the worst. I have never felt so drained. I was shuffle running at this point. I'd hit the dreaded wall with an almighty thud. I didn't want to take in gels or even water because I felt so sick! But knew I had to keep sipping little but often for fear of becoming dehydrated and being hauled off in an ambulance. By this point the female relay woman over took me and shouted. "You are nearly there!" It was just down that road that another lovely woman helped me, by talking. My favourite saying of the day "it's only 2 Park Runs and a bit to go". She was so supportive and was impressed that this was my first marathon. She also said that these were more mental miles than physical ones. And at 25 miles you would get an emotional lump in your throat. No matter how many marathons I decided to run. Boy was she right. But a quick mention before. I was met by the same woman just after I'd finished, she came up to me and gave me a mighty hug and said "Well done. You've done it. Congratulations".
Skip to my loo mile 25. A great idea! Here I met a RUNNING ANGEL! These were fellow runners in a fairly secluded part of the docks. In bright pink may I add. Even a guy in a pink tutu. They were there to help almost giving up runners like me a chat and a sense of optimism in the wake of probably the darkest point of the run. I was introduced to Becky, a 27 year old woman. She was my star of the day. She stayed walking by my side for the whole of mile 25. But I had to promise her to run the last mile, failing that she said "you have to sprint finish!"
I looked at this woman probably in her 60/70's in her fluorescent kit. My idol of the last mile and 20. I called her Gladdis in my head. I thought. Wow. You go girl. The fact she was still running and I was more than half her age, reduced to a walking got me. Without knowing, this lady helped me a lot mentally get to that finish. Thank you Gladdis! Mile 25 too. Seen me talking to a bird, not literally I wasn't that dilusional. But a costume bird. The guy was probably about my age. He looked sweltering in that suit. We both gave each other a "nearly there" prep talk to the point where a fellow spectator said "you aren't going to let the bird beat you are you?!" Hahahahaha. That tickled my humour spot.
800 metres to go. I upped my pace.
400 metres to go and Gladdis was still holding on infront of me. But I could see that damned finish line in sight... I was almost there!
200 metres. I took what Becky said onboard and erupted into a sprint!!! To the point were even the crowed were cheering me on for seeing an incredible effort of a sprint finish.
I fecking did it. I completed my first marathon in 5:38:09! As well as Mr Birdy finish shortly after. Saying My snailtastic sprint got him to the finish. I love it. It's becoming my trait! The medal was my equivalant to that of an Olympic gold. I rang Jake, seen him and flew into his arms crying. Never have I ever been so proud of my efforts to this date. I cried for thinking how proud my nan would have been. Wishing she could see me run through that finish line in human form. She was with me all the way. I could sense it. All the pain dissipated for those few minutes. All the nightmares of 21-25 miles felt like they just left my body like the deceased carcass forming into a heavenly soul. This was definitely the starting of a newly formed admiration of running. I look forward to my next journey and maybe in years to come an ultra. Who knows. Go wild.
As always. Thank you for reading and if you've supported me on this journey. You're all amazing. I couldn't have done it without you all. Until my next crazy adventure. A farewell. But obviously a cheeky Great Birmingham Half on October 16th is yet to come. Oo and a week away in Rhodes, Greece.
Quote to be left with
"Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Yourself, You Can Learn In 26.2 miles"
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