Running Reflections: Creating Memories

At the turn of the year, it's time to look back; to reflect on what we've done and what we've failed to do. To focus on our achievements, to remember the big events both happy and sad and, at some level, to calculate whether it's been a good year or not. Hopefully we then turn our eyes to the year to come and new goals and dreams.

Running is obviously a massive part of my annual calculation, adding to the sum of happiness and disappointment. Did I set great goals to reach during 2013; goals that challenged and motivated me?  Did I give  my all to reach those goals? To make them real? Did I push myself to my limits and beyond, into the really memorable?

In my few years as a runner, I've learnt the hard way that it doesn't really matter if the goal is to get out the front door and do that first run; to rebuild strength and form after injury or run a marathon or 12.  Watching runners across the world on Twitter and Facebook set and reach their goals, it's clear the only goals that matter are the ones that are deep down and personal to us. Comparison is often futile.

My running goals have changed immensely over the years. Year 1 -  run my first half marathon. Year 2 started with injury, my goal was simple, to be able to run, full stop. Last year - run a marathon.  Whilst the marathon is the 'show' one, it would never have happened if the clinically obese Sue hadn't had the guts to shoe up and get out there.  Next year is not showy, but is critical to my overall goal of a long, healthy running filled life. My goal for 2014 is to re-build the form, becoming a stronger, more efficient runner preparing for a marathon the year after.

So I thought I'd got next year's goals sorted out. But then I had an experience that transformed my thinking about running and running goals forever: I had my very own paradigm shift.

The catalyst was a remarkable organisation called Sporting Memories Network.  Sporting Memories Network works across Great Britain using memories about sports to help older people, including people with dementia, to stimulate the mind, body (and I would say the soul).  I heard of them through the North Berwick Day Centre that Mum used to attend and I got in touch to find out more.

I was entranced. I know from my own experience of the power of memory; how easy it is to take it for granted that, with a few slips, we will remember the important things in life. If only it worked that way!  With a lot of dementias of various kinds in the family, I know how precious our memories are.  As dementia took its hold I've watched as loved ones lost their ability to hold onto their thoughts, relationships and experiences; sometimes losing the very sense of who they are. I held their hands as they struggled to express themselves and their emotions, sometimes frightened by the void.

Seeing the face of a loved one light up when they remember something is better than the most beautiful sunrise you'll ever see. Memory becomes a gift, something special to be valued in its complexity and richness. So when I heard about sporting reminiscences and the work they do, I was delighted. Have a look at Bill's story and the way his sporting history reminds us of the man he is and the life he has lived.  Bill's story reminds Bill, his family, friends, carers and us readers that Bill has a life to live.

I was out running when it dawned on me that I've got sporting memories now; and that every time I run I'm creating my own reminiscences. Okay, I'm not going to get a gold medal, but I have a sporting story and it's a story that runs like a river of achievement through my life.  It's got a few race for life runs; it's got a marathon; it's got injury and recovery; it's got guts and glory. Every run I do is another paragraph in my running story and it's a story that I have created.

I started running because of my Dad, to stick two fingers up at the Parkinson's and Dementia that stole his freedom to move and be himself. I never thought for a moment that my first painful run would end up in a marathon and who knows what next.   Dad loved sport and he would have loved the sporting reminiscences:  the great days of Yorkshire County Cricket Club, his rugby, his work with young players helping to bring them on. I wish we'd had sporting memories for him. But it's not too late for us to invest in our own personal legacy of sporting reminiscences to inspire our old age and tell future generations about their history.

In 2014, I've got running goals for the year but I also have goals for a life time.  What running memories will I create this year? What reminiscences will I have when I sit and look back on a life well run? It's all up to me.

Watch this space!

Wishing you and yours a happy, healthy and joy filled New Year and truly memorable 2014!

Take care

Suex

Running for Dad - the Edinburgh Half Marathon

I still can't believe I did it, that I ran 13.1 (+) miles.  All the training runs, all the advice I read, nothing prepared for me the experience of that first half marathon. I was used to running with a chum or two and on long runs was very much a lone wolf - sticking on the headphone and setting off for a few hourse with Jenni Murray to keep me going. Running the Edinburgh Half on Sunday was something else...

I'd thrown myself into the pre race tweeting and face booking which was great to get to know some of the basics about what was to come. I asked lots of stupid questions, realised that lots of us were nervous and got an idea of just how different we all were, but all coming together to run. It was great and I really felt part of something as I headed off to Meadowbank Stadium.  It was so exciting to see people walking, cycling and bussing to the stadium in all sorts of gear.  But I was nervous too and poor Ali left a rather tense wife in the queue for the porta loos.  I was not alone and the queue got longer and longer, but luckily for me I was befriended and soothed by some lovely ladies from North Berwick. 

Then into the stadium to walk about and get my bearings. I stood in the sun to get warm and gradually began to relax and just absorb the fact that I was about to do what I'd been planning for about 6 months.  As the elite runners headed off, we all waved and clapped and I once again had that lump in my throat. What is it about these runs that is so moving? There is something so completely and wonderfully human about long runs, unaided by wheels or bits of wood, just legs and what we can persuade our bodies and minds to do.

And then it was my turn and  the 2 to 2.5 hour runners were off. No amount of lecturing about water loss could stop be sniffling as I headed towards the gate and the open roads of Edinburgh.  We had started. It was slow and packed, but I just told myself I had plenty of time for a burst of speed later on and that did the trick.  I headed off to Afro Celt Sound System - suitably Celtic and atmospheric and just went with the flow.  Gradually I became aware of a really weird flopping/slapping noise, quite unlike anything I've ever heard before. It was the sound of thousands of trainers hitting the Leith pavements. I have that sound in my head and will carry it with me forever - the sound of runners en masse. Never expected that one!

It was the most beautiful sunny day, just great to be alive and outside, and so great to be able just to run and enjoy it. Some of the runners did tend to cut me up a bit. At 5'2" and being a female of a certain age, I am not unused to being invisible until trodden on, but I was a bit freaked by some of the close shaves. However, the zen of the run (or maybe the endorphins!) came to my rescue and I decided I had to run my own race, to own my bit of the road  and not be intimidated. It worked and I relaxed - I wish it was always that easy!

There were so many high spots. The kind and warm Edinburgh and East Lothian people who came out to wave and wish us well, particularly at the end where some lovely people really kept me going and made me cry again!  The marshalls were just wonderful, really encouraging and gave up their time to make sure we didn't get lost. The kids and dogs who thought we were really amusing and a bit bonkers (how true) and the police and ambulance folks who kept us safe.  Most of the drivers were friendly and patient too, I hope they all got where they needed to on time.

It was hard work at the end, I have never been so happy to see Cockenzie Power Station and turn that last corner. I saw the finishing line and it was truly one of the best sights ever. I still don't know why it seemed to move further away the more I ran, but I did get there in the end. I made it over the line at 2h 5 minutes, my final time was 1 hour 58 minutes and 57 seconds. Ali was waiting for me with a big hug and a post race bag of goodies. I'd made it.

As we left a sunny and busy Musselburgh RaceCourse, I'd already started to think about what next. If I can do a half marathon then one day I can do a full one, it's just about training and hard work. 

Once again I'd proved to myself that I can achieve what I set out to, that I can do challenging things, that I can go beyond my own expectations.  Just like losing weight, I could do it if I set my mind and heart on it. All that and it's good for you too! 

As we left the stadium, I knew that somewhere my Dad was so proud of me. Parkinson's Disease had stolen a lot of his life from him and his family. He loved to be active and it was his death two years ago, almost to the day, that had inspired me to do things now whilst I still can. I'd run for him and for Mum who has Alzheimer's. 
Here's a piccie of a very happy but tired me at the end.

Happy running!

Love, Sue