My Marathon

For those of you who don’t know, in April I ran the London Marathon!! I’m chuckling to myself as I write this as I imagine anyone who can still be bothered to read my blog will undoubtably already know this. I have been harping on about it for rather a long time! I can’t actually quite believe it now, even two months later. It’s strange when something that has been a lifelong ambition suddenly becomes ‘something I did once’. It went from a crazy unattainable dream to, well, it can’t be that hard if I did it!! Funny how our minds like to exaggerate and/or trivialise things (or is that just my mind?!).

There is some truth to the ‘If I can do it, anyone can’ statement I suppose, serious health conditions aside, if I can run 26.2 miles, then I imagine most people can. I’m not an amazing runner and I’m not in peak physical condition. I’m not even particularly enthusiastic about running, it takes a lot of mental back-and-forths, complaining and making excuses before I manage to actually put on my trainers and head out for a run. To be honest my procrastination is probably more tiring than the act of running itself! What you do need though, and what I realised over the last few years that I have, is a slightly crazy determination and refusal to give in. I’m not sure if this is a good trait or not, in some circumstances it has got me through some very tough times, but it has also meant that at times I have held myself to pretty high and unattainable standards, meaning nothing is ever quite good enough. I have to check in with myself every now and then and remind myself just what I have accomplished. I am very proud of myself for everything I have achieved during my challenges for Maggie’s, but there is always the temptation to do one last thing. Don’t worry, I’m not! I’m done...…..I just have to keep reminding myself of that, especially when I look at my marathon time and think “Hmmm, I’m sure I could do it faster than that!!”.

So this blog is a little reminder to myself of what I went through to get to that day, because to be honest the marathon itself, for me, was not the hard part. The months of training, of getting up on a Sunday morning knowing I had a 3 hour run ahead of me, the constant aching legs, feet and hips, the hail storms, the planning of routes in new places when I seemed to be constantly moving from place to place, remembering not only to pack my trainers but all the running paraphernalia you end up needing for such long runs (energy gels, anti-chaffing creams, water bottles, headphones etc etc.) every time I decided to go somewhere, planning meals around my training making sure I ate enough but not too much, cross training with yoga and swimming and trying to make sure I didn’t injure myself close to the big day, taping up my feet in a vain attempt to stop my toenails from falling off, remembering to drink enough water and being careful not to drink much alcohol, and the biggest one for me, trying not to get disheartened and give up on the whole thing every time another runner would pass me or tell me their most recent training time or distance. Honestly, I don’t know how I did it, I also don’t know how other people put up with me during that time!  

Not loving the
training or the weather

Grumpy baby says it all!

As if the things above where not enough, and believe me they were, I also had to deal with a few post cancer treatment issues. When you’re putting your body through something as harsh as training for a marathon there are obviously some changes that happen to your body, some, like stronger legs and a muscular bottom, I could live with….others caused the odd bit of panic and paranoia. After treatment I was told to look out for significant changes in my body, any changes to the breast or nipple, itching, discolouration, lumps etc. Well attempting to run without a decent sports bra at the beginning (why do I need a sports bra, I thought, I barely need a normal bra?!) and the chaffing that came caused enough changes to have me quite worried. Bone pain is also something I was told to look out for, hmmmm, try running those distances without getting bone pain! Throughout chemo I was ever so worried about losing my nails, hair I could cope with, but the idea of losing my nails just gave me the heebie-jeebies, I was so relieved when that didn’t happen, so when my toenails started to blacken with all the running I got quite obsessed with trying to keep them there. I started googling ways to prevent nail loss and doing everything from peppermint tea foot soaks to dousing my toes in arnica gel (mum would’ve been very proud). For the most part it worked and I managed to keep my nails until just a couple of weeks ago…..they came off just in time for sandal season! Yey! 😉 With chemo and the Herceptin I had achy legs for months and would sometimes struggle to get up from a sofa without a bit of assistance, and yes, for some reason I had decided to bring on similar effects by running! Finally, and apologies if this is TMI (but I’ve already told you about my itchy nipples so probably not) but sometimes when training for a marathon your periods can stop, it’s quite normal when putting your body through that amount of stress, but when you’ve been through fertility preserving procedures, had your periods stop during chemotherapy and an agonising wait to see if they came back or not afterwards, when you take medication that can trick you body into the menopause and when you are told that you must not get pregnant when taking that medication, then when your periods do stop it’s a bit of a mind f#*k I must say! All these things turned out to be nothing to worry about, but it did keep drawing my attention back to cancer and all the fears that came with it.

So those were the hard parts, but honestly it was all worth it. The day itself was one of the most amazing days of my life, I have honestly never experienced such unbridled love and support, not only from my family and friends cheering me on on the day, but complete strangers at the roadside and friends all over the country/world following my progress on social media, the app and TV. It was unbelievable and very touching. I expected my soppy old Dad to shed a tear or two, but I don’t think there was a dry eye amongst my whole support crew by the time I was done (apart from the kids of course, they were too busy trying to find foil blankets that runners had left behind to care).

I was nervous in the morning but as soon as I started running the nerves disappeared and once I’d caught sight of my family and boyfriend at their first cheerpoints seven or eight miles in, I could relax and enjoy the amazing atmosphere. My focus soon switched to trying to get away from Jesus, Batman and a lovely lady named Eileen, as the crowds would go nuts every time they went past, the cheers of ‘nanananananana’ or ‘come on Eileen’ were only funny the first hour or so!! It was also slightly embarrassing that a man running barefoot in a loincloth carrying a huge crucifix somehow seemed to keep passing me! I don’t remember seeing the Cutty Sark or Canary Warf or pretty much any of the other landmarks you see on TV as I was too busy looking out for the next gel or water station or planning when would be the best time for a loo break. I kept waiting for the infamous ‘wall’ to hit, the moment where I’d feel like I just couldn’t carry on, but it never did and after about 20 miles I realised I’m actually going to do this! The hardest part was probably just after I’d seen my boyfriend and friends at the 24 mile point, I remember saying to them “I’m nearly there” and in my head it was ‘only 2 miles to go!’. Well in fact it was 2 miles and 385 yards to go and they were the longest 2 miles and 385 yards of the whole race! They seemed to go on forever, as I was going down The Mall I felt as though I was running the wrong way on a travellator! The finish line ahead didn’t seem to be getting any closer. It did eventually though, and I crossed that finish line with a huge sense of relief and a slight tear in my eye. I felt like doing a big 'arms in the air' finish as I crossed the line, but as spectators are not allowed at that point I felt quite silly doing it and so refrained, little did I know my friends were glued to the TV at home watching that very moment!

Once I stopped my legs and left knee immediately seized up and I had to hobble the distance to collect my bag and meet my faithful cheer squad, I could’ve certainly done with that travellator then! I expected to be elated and emotional, but I was just tired and relieved. A few days later when the fundraising tipped over the £10,000 mark the emotion finally hit me! Ten thousand pounds, you people are just amazing! Thank you!!!!

The moment I hit my target! 😭

I think I had a bit of a post-marathon slump, a 'what do I do now?' feeling for a week or so afterwards, and now two months later I’m still not quite back into running as regularly as I probably should, partly because I just don’t have the motivation any more and partly because I wanted some of those horrible side-effects to subside. I still find it hard to take praise about it and play it down or have moments where I think I could’ve done better, but then I see my medal, read the card my friends sent me saying ‘If you can achieve this, you can achieve anything’ or remember the proud tears in my loved ones’ eyes and think “yeah, that was pretty cool”. Even better than all that, I have had several people tell me they have been inspired to take up running or other activities because of it, including my little niece who is currently smashing it every weekend at the junior park run, and that makes me so very proud.

The card from my amazing
 friends

💖

A few pics from the day (sadly I didn't get one with Jesus).