You'll Never Run Alone: A thank you to those who stand and wave

The world seems a very different place since the Boston Marathon last Monday.  With the London Marathon a few hours away, there has never been a stronger sense of us runners being a global community, united not just in our love of all things running but also in our determination not to give in.

Of course we are shocked. Less than a week ago, running was in a different world from bad things. Marathons are all about being human, reaching for our dreams, a manifestation of all that is best and true of humanity - even if that isn't always pretty.  Somehow it was even more shocking because something so good and innocent was targeted by people who hate. Shocking because it happened to ordinary runners, people like me and you and millions of others all over the world dreaming of their first or their perfect marathon.  It just didn't make any sense. Why on earth would you target runners? Why?

As events unfolded, it became clear this wasn't just about runners.  Friends and family, strangers and colleagues who cheered and waved as runners reached their marathon's end were killed and mutilated.  A young boy watching his father. A restaurant manager who stood at the finishing line almost every year.  A young graduate student from China. That this horrible frightening thing had happened to the people who stand and cheer us on seemed even more unfair and grotesque.

Shock became anger. It's bad enough to do this to runners, we who have chosen to do this mad thing, but to hurt our supporters, our posse, innocent bystanders; the strangers who smile and wave and cheer us on? It just didn't compute. It seems doubly unfair.

 I thought back to Lochaber and the wonderful support of the folk who waved and smiled me over the long hard slog. The folk waiting for me at the finish line more than 5 hours later and who gave me a massive hug looking almost as pleased as I did! The marshals who made me laugh out loud and kept me safe and hydrated; the people waving from their doorsteps and windows who gave me a thumbs up or a word or two of encouragement. The group of folk who cheered as I ran towards them, making me look round before I realised they were cheering me! I felt like Mo Farah! The scouts who handed out lucozade and the lovely little girl in pink who waved from the bus stop and offered me a drink.  None of them different to the supporters in Boston.

I thought about all the support I'd got from Ali. Not just him popping up here and there to cheer me on and hand me a hot cuppa at the end. Ali who spent over 5 hours wondering if I was going to make it round or not and never let on how worried he was. Who never complained about my dark o'clock rises to run before work or commented when I walked down the stairs like I was 125 years old groaning and wincing on ever step.  The weekends eaten up by long runs followed by hours of stretching and rolling round on lumps of foam and tennis balls.  The tyranny of the training schedule which determined when we could walk or cycle and when I had to rest and eat. The timetabling of holidays round the marathon schedule.  The incessant worrying about aches, pains and pace. I'm sure there must be many times our loved ones would dearly like to tell us to sit down and have a rest, but bite their tongues.

None of us run a marathon on our own and the bombers have hurt badly the people who give so much purely to see their loved ones pursue a dream or to encourage a stranger.

The London Marathon is going to be an even more special run than usual. It is the first major marathon since Boston and it will point to the future of running across the world. Every runner out on Sunday is making a statement on behalf of every one of us who have donned trainers and hit the streets. Every person helping, supporting, waving is also making a stand against bullying and terror on behalf of us all. Everyone at the London Marathon carries with them the admiration and hopes of runners and those who support us across the world.

So yes, we are runners, we are strong and we will run on. But we are also the ones who stand and wave.  On Sunday, we will all be strong and we will be united.  Together we will honour the marathoners and their supporters from Boston, London and every other race.

Very special thoughts to Celina, Kaz, Denis, Michelle and Zoe who are running on Sunday. Remember your posse - real and virtual - are right there behind you waving you on.  Know you are strong and have a totally brilliant day!

Whether you're running or waving, have a great marathon.

Take care

Suex

Runner Reborn - Taking to the hills

You know you read all that stuff about how hills are good for you? Well they are, but I think they should give hills a health warning. Hills are hard. Hills are dangerous. Never ever under-estimate a hill, treat it with respect. I didn't, I paid the price. Now I take hills very seriously indeed.

A couple of weeks ago, I did my first hill session since 'the injury'.  It was going on for four months after the evil day, so I reckoned I was about ready.  I'd always had hills in my training before, so I decided it was time to start taking them on again.

Now I like hill work outs. I like the way they push me and the sense of achieving something hard. Hills are a great way of adding a little bit extra to a run to push you a bit, especially when you're short of time. I saw hills as more about will than muscle and as I believe that I am, deep down, a really lazy person, I see hills as character building. I never had a single twinge or problem doing hills other than the usual pain and exhaustion!

Now I'm not daft, I did take it easy. I  have a run I used to do when I first started running which I wouldn't call a hill, more an incline. North Berwick Law, that's a hill and I have run (sort of) up it. There's a few other steep paths round here climbing up from the sea, so I thought I'd be fine if I avoided those and went for something much gentler.

So off I went. About 20 minutes in my injured calf started to give me a good nipping in exactly the place where the tear had been. Absolutely no doubt, I was irritating the bit I'd injured.  A recovering injury makes body-sensing almost inevitable.  I didn't panic, but I didn't run through it either. I used my running form to control the nipping - reducing my stride, slowing the pace a bit, making sure my posture was good, relaxing my lower leg. As I experimented, I tested my leg's reaction to how I ran. What was it in my running that lay behind that horrid niggling reminder of my dark days? What did I need to do now to avoid it happening again?

I gradually worked out how to work with the injury. I found I could stop my calf hurting, I was in control. I resisted the temptation to push the distance, even though the nipping stopped and I headed home along the flat - slowly and carefully and finished off with a really good stretch and a roller session.

I know now that my calf injury was triggered by me doing a massive steep hill in the second half of my  third half marathon distance long run on a Sunday.  Another major and stupid error for which I paid the price. I'd not done a reduced mileage for ages  - why should I, I felt great!  I was bonkers. I've cycled and walked up that hill before and it's a a struggle even in granny gear; even after serious spinning training. But that day before Christmas I ran up it. I went slowly but that probably made it even worse. When that calf muscle called out to me the other day, I realised what I'd been putting my body through as I pushed myself. I'd acted like I was invincible.

But, as a reborn runner I am starting again, rebuilding myself.  The combination of really listening to my body and not my i pod and having a method for analysing my form is transforming my running.  A small physical adjustment took the pressure off that muscle and I could run pain free. A massive mental adjustment and working on my focus meant I noticed a problem and responded to it before it got too big. A boost of discipline means I now walk up hills - unless I am specifically out on a planned hill session.

I'd never thought about hills as being high risk for my poor legs, but I do now.  I get the power of hills and how they found my weak spot.  I have to treat hills with respect and progress slowly and gradually.  Which I suppose is what I should have done in the first place - but hey isn't that life!

I've had a great running week. I am so enjoying my running just now, it's more rewarding than it's ever been. Every run has felt good and I can see progress - not just in speed or distance, but more importantly in what I learn and the type of runner I'm growing into. And as you can see flat running doesn't have to be easy or boring!

Three runs this week and one spin class. I've done another 10 miler in a slightly faster cadence than last week - pretty flat as you can see!  A shorter faster run and a recovery jog barefoot on the beach. I'll have an enforced reduction in mileage next week and instead of fretting about not being able to run, I'm going to be grateful that it it fits so well with my plans.  Well that's the theory!

Happy running!

take care

Suex