Marathon Man

Just a brief update as today I have to finish packing and do a few bits and bobs before I drive down to my hotel tonight and fly out to Crete for two weeks tomorrow lunchtime..

Yesterday I completed the New Forest Marathon. It was without doubt the hardest thing I have ever achieved.

I had a good night's sleep on Saturday and ate a hearty breakfast on Sunday morning. I got a bit lost on the way down (I'll never use Autoroute again!) but arrived in good time. It was a warm, sunny day, and the thought occurred to me I might get a bit sunburnt.

I made my way to the start line, feeling confident. I tried to take it nice and steady, and finished the first 13 miles in just over 2 hours. I then tried to break it down into little chunks, with the aim of getting to mile 20 as painlessly as possibly because after that it's just 10k - a doddle.

Or so I thought. I got to mile 20 ok, although I did slow down quite a bit after mile 15. I think the heat was really taking it out of me. There were regular drinks and sponge stations on the way, and I know I couldn't have managed without them.

There aren't words to describe the last six miles. It was incredibly painful, excruciating in fact. My legs were already like lead, and soon my sides, my kidneys, my spine, even my chest muscles were screaming out in pain.

By mile 20 I realised I had to do the rest of the race in 1 hour 5 minutes to finish the race in my target time of 4.5 hours. It just wasn't to be, because I found myself having to walk in several places - better that than not get across the line. And by then I really didn't care about the time, all I wanted to do was cross the line.

But cross the line I did and I am very proud of myself for doing so. It was real grit your teeth stuff, pure mind over matter. I guess my time of 4 hours 44 minutes isn't that bad, at least I now have a time I can improve on. By the time I run the London marathon in April 2007 I'm sure I'll be a lot fitter and stronger.

I phoned Anthony when I got back to my car and again when I got home. He was planning to run the race with me, but recently hurt his ankle jumping out the way of a car. I just hope he has a speedy recovery, and can resume training me, and his own running, before long. Needless to say he was delighted for me and said he was very proud of me. It was just what I needed to hear at that juncture. What I achieved, he said, is just amazing. He told me to go away and enjoy my holiday, have "as much beer as I like" and think about what I've achieved. Then I can come back and start training for my next race, which will be the Swindon half marathon in October.

I'm certainly going to enjoy my holiday. I never thought I'd run a marathon and I'm taking my medal with me to remind myself what I've accomplished. And yes, I might try to impress the ladies with it..

See you all in a couple of weeks.

Copyright © Jonathan Weedon, September 2006

Aldbourne 10k revisited

On Sunday I competed in the Aldbourne 10k. This was the first time I had competed in a race for the second year - you will find an article on my experiences last year in the archives on this blog.

I really enjoyed the event last year, and was very excited to be taking part again this year. You are allowed to enter on the day (it attracts surprisingly few runners, especially given the time of year - maybe it has to do with all the hills), but I took no chances, registering well in advance.

I had a nice surprise a couple of days beforehand. The race organiser, Dave Jordan, called me at work and asked me if I would like to appear on the Sandy Martin show on BBC Wiltshire Radio with him! He does not actually run himself, so wanted a runner's perspective - I apparently fitted the bill perfectly!

Obviously I was not going to pass up an opportunity like this. It would be a completely new experience for me, and a chance to get my name known.

I arrived at the studio on Saturday morning not really knowing what to expect. When we were introduced to Sandy he soon put us at our ease, and before we knew it we were live on air. I was very nervous - as I say this was a new experience for me. But I think I gave some interesting answers to the question asked. It certainly added spice to the weekend!

Speaking of spice, the pre-race Saturday afternoon film was "Crank" with Jason Statham. It was all about a man who, having been injected with a rare Chinese poison, has to keep his adrenalin flowing to stay alive. Fighting, car chases and sex in public places are all part of the thrill, and I thoroughly enjoyed this action-packed and at times highly amusing yarn.

I didn't sleep too well before the race. One of my lodgers went to bed later than me and woke me up coming upstairs. After that I couldn't get off again. I don't like other people going to bed after me - something I inherited from my Dad - but I do realise I have to be more flexible if I want other people to live in my house and pay my mortgage for me. Nonetheless I was in a pretty foul mood Sunday morning, and made my feelings known. I was tired and crabby.

Not that I really worried about how I would perform in the race - Anthony called me on Saturday and told me to take it steady - part of his advice for the last week before the big day.

I turned up in good time - Aldbourne is just outside Swindon. I collected my race number and started to get ready. I saw on my phone I had a text from my mate Andy wishing me good luck, which really gave me a boost - always good to know there are people rooting for me.

Soon the race began and I started off nice and steady. I remembered the route from last year - twice through the village before out into the hills. And those hills are probably the steepest I've climbed in a race.

This year, however, they didn't seem nearly as bad as last year. I actually found myself accelerating up them, past all the people who had overtaken me at the start and were now walking. At the 2k marker I checked my watch and saw I was making good time - if I kept it up, I could be on for a PB.

About that time however, a really bad chest pain kicked in. It really hurt - it made breathing hard and must have slowed me down. I was determined not to stop though, and carried on running despite the pain. It never went away - if anything it just spread.

I didn't quite manage to maintain the pace, and soon my hopes of getting round in less than 50 minutes faded. There was a steep descent into the village for the last 2k, and I did manage to stretch out a bit without taking risks. For most of the last half of the race I was neck and neck with a chap who had a greater impediment than me, an asthma sufferer who had to stop and use his inhaler from time to time.

Coming into the sports field at the end I knew I couldn't get under 50 minutes but I was going to get as close as I could. I sprinted for the line and finished at around 50:55 (50:45 by my watch), narrowly beating the man with the inhaler.

Of course I shook his hand afterwards and he said "well run," to me, which was nice. It turned out that his PB is 44 minutes, and he got it on this course last year, before the asthma kicked in. The courage some of my fellow runners have is really quite extraordinary.

I picked up my water, banana and t-shirt at the end. The cheeky sod asked me if I wanted large or extra large. "Large-ish" he commented. "I'll just take a medium," I replied. And do you know what? It fitted perfectly. In that, I had to take it off later to check it really was a medium, it was that loose.

I was keen to get home and watch the cricket, but before I did I stayed and stood in the sports field, which was drenched in sunshine, and clapped the slower runners coming across the line. All these people deserve applause. Without them, the sport wouldn't be the same, attracting all ages, shapes and sizes, and levels of ability.

I was a little sad to be heading home - the Aldbourne 10k has a special place in my heart now and it's a shame I won't be back for at least another year. I just hope by then I can knock another big chunk off my time. At this rate, I'll be surprised if I don't.

And so home - no beer of course, but I did manage to chill out and watch the rarest of things - an England victory in one-day cricket! I also watched "In Good Company" on sky movies, a film I am finding I can watch time and again and still enjoy.

As I sat there however, my thoughts turned to next week. How will I be feeling then? A lot more tired for sure, and possibly in a bit of pain. I shall be enjoying something stronger than orange squash I've no doubt, and hopefully I shall be reflecting on one of the greatest achievements of my life.

I'm quietly confident I'll be doing just that.

Copyright © Jonathan Weedon, September 2006

Musings on 9/11

I think everyone remembers where they were five years ago today when the planes hit the towers.

I certainly do. I was at my Dad's house. I had taken delivery of my brand new Ford Puma the previous Friday, and was in Melksham visiting my sister Amanda, and we stopped at Dad's so I could show off the car.

We were sitting in the kitchen chatting when a newsflash came on that a plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Centre. Obviously we assumed at the time that it was an accident, until we watched in horror as the second plane crashed into the South Tower. I remember Dad saying, "Oh God, they've hit the other one". Suddenly it was clearly no accident.

So what should have been a happy day became an horrific one. For the only time in my life, I was glad my mother was not around, as I would have hated her to watch thousands of people being murdered on daytime television.

As I drove back to Swindon, my thoughts turned to the short-term future, wondering whether I had watched the beginning of World War 3. There was a war of course, in Afghanistan, but I don't think I ever realised how far-reaching the war on terror would be.

I grew up in an age of terrorism. Growing up in the late 70s and 80s I remember many of the IRA atrocities - the Airey Neave car bombing, the Lord Mountbatten bombing, and the Hyde Park nail bombings, to name but a few. Nothing quite compared with what I saw on television that day, and none of those terrible events would ever change the way I live the way 9/11 did.

I've been determined to live my life as normally as possible after 9/11. I remember people thinking I was brave to fly to Crete on holiday a few weeks later. For me not travelling was simply not an option. I was determined not to let the terrorists influence my choices. I think most Brits and Americans think the same way I do, brave souls that we are.

But there are a lot of things we have no control over. There are longer queues at airports. I was in Piccadilly tube station once when it was evacuated due to a security alert. Shortly after the London tube bombings, I was on a train when there was an announcement about an "unattended item". On both occasions I don't mind admitting I was petrified.

But I think the most pertinent reminder of how much the world has changed came this year when I was at Lord's. As usual I arrived in good time, found my seat, left my bag and went for a walk around the ground, watching the players practise in the nets. When I returned to my seat a security guard reprimanded me for leaving my bag unattended. "People were getting worried," he told me.

The terrorists will not win. They can make threats, they can bomb, they can murder innocent people, but they will never break the spirit of our two great nations or of any other countries in the free world. We may have to change the way we go about our day-to-day lives, but we will continue to enjoy our freedom. The way New York responded to 9/11 and London to 7/7 is testament to that.

As a youngster I loved seeing images of the World Trade Centre, as well as of other New York skyscrapers (probably had something to do with all those Spider-Man comics). Now I have pictures of the Twin Towers and the Empire State Building on the wall in my bedroom. I bought them after 9/11. They stand for things like freedom, democracy and a free economy - things the terrorists will never, ever take away from us.

This is dedicated to the 2,973 people who lost their lives in the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001.