NDJ's London Marathon - I did it!!

Yes, you read the title correctly - I did it! In a steady 5:26:30, which I am very happy about!

So that's the short version. Here's the long version...

Up at 6am, and not feeling too bad. Breakfast, last few bits and pieces into the kitbag, and off to the station for the 6:52 train... which was promptly cancelled by the embarrassing shower of shite that is Greater Anglia. After a mini meltdown, over to the other platform to wait for the 7:22... which was then severely delayed. Which is the point when you thank God for credit cards, and spend £80 on a taxi to London Liverpool Street instead. Tube to Charing Cross, then a train to Blackheath leaving in 2 minutes, so a hurried goodbye to Chris, and a 20 minute journey surrounded by dreadful public school graduates boasting about how little training they'd done (in retrospect, I imagine they dropped out around mile 9, or were lying).

Blackheath was like Twickers on a big match day - hordes of people walking down the closed high street and a bit of a carnival atmosphere, just without the beer. After a very long queue for a portaloo (amazingly clean and equipped with loo paper!), and a quick bag drop off, suddenly I was in the starting pen. I was chatting with a few people, and it took a while to realise that the race had started up ahead of us, as we hadn't moved yet. In the end, it took around 15 minutes after the start to get across the start line, which was a surreal moment: "Oh my god, I'm running the actual London Marathon!".

I stuck around the people I'd been chatting with at the start for the first couple of miles, then realised that that meant I wasn't looking after my own pace. I'd decided beforehand to stave off my habit of starting too fast by running 5 minutes and walking 1 minute, sticking to 12 minute miles in that style. In the end, I ran the whole first mile and most of the second, then checked myself and forced myself back to the planned pace. Originally I'd thought that after mile 5 I'd go to running 10 and walking 2, but actually having tried that for a mile, I found my legs were happier with the shorter walk breaks. I then kept that pace throughout the entire rest of the race, which is probably why my pace remained steady with very little variation away from the 12 minute mile.

I had my first spectators at mile 7 - Chris and my mum-in-law Margaret - and I ran over for a big hug, before running off again. I was feeling pretty fine, but the weather was turning weirdly humid, and I suddenly realised that I'd forgotten to tie my hair back before handing over my bag, and started to feel a bit nasty and hot and knackered. I then started to panic that I was about to bonk, and not even at halfway. Mile 11 felt horrific, I felt myself slow down, and everything was going a bit foggy, then suddenly we turned a corner and were just metres from going over Tower Bridge! I burst into tears, and then suddenly everything was okay. I ran over the whole of Tower Bridge, because why on earth wouldn't you, and after passing the 12 mile marker, I was feeling fine.

If I'm honest, from then on I just really enjoyed it. Yes, there were hard parts - my right hip (ironically always my 'good' hip in the past) started twanging horribly around mile 18, but then I got to have another hug with Chris and Margaret, and a mile later with my lovely friend Mary, and at mile 20 I allowed myself the emergency ibuprofen secreted in my bag of sports beans (well, one of them, as the other pinged into the crowd when I pressed it out of the blister pack!) and that helped. At mile 22 I spotted Vikki and Rachel - well actually, Vikki screamed my name so loud I couldn't have missed them - and I got a double hug before running past Tower Bridge with a huge grin.

The thing is, after around mile 20, I knew I was going to finish, because in the worse case scenario, I could have walked the rest from there. But actually, I carried on running with a smile on my face. I had a slightly weird bit where I started to get worried that I was dreaming and I would actually wake up in the morning and have to run the marathon, but I checked with a marshall that it really was the approach to mile 23, and that helped! Passing the 24 mile marker, I screamed with joy, and then got the brilliant bonus of a third hug with Chris and Margaret (who practically walked a marathon trying to see me as many times as possible!) and before I knew it I was at mile 26 and it was finishing, and I came round the corner and saw the finish and the tears started and then the grin, and I crossed the line at a run with my hands in the air and the biggest smile ever!

It's all a bit crazy and hazy and frantic after that - you get processed through for your medal, goody bag, and baggage reclaim, and I managed to get through to Chris on the phone while that was going on, then my Dad and Stepmum called, and I was trying to get to the meeting area, and sort my bag out, and put my foil blanket on at the same time. I made myself eat a cereal bar, because that's what I always did after long training runs, and once Chris and Margaret finally found me, all I could do was babble like a loon!

The journey home felt a bit surreal, and I was still not entirely convinced I hadn't dreamt the whole thing. I read all the lovely Facebook messages and texts, and when we were finally home, I had a bath and ate cheesy chips and olives and had a beer (the body wants what it wants) before falling asleep.

This morning my legs are pretty stiff, but I'm still on a high. I can't believe I did it! I'd almost say I would do it again... until I remember the months of training involved! But if you are thinking about doing it, I'd tell you to go for it - it's definitely a once in a lifetime experience!

So finally, special thanks to everyone who sponsored me, the lovelies who turned out on the day to cheer me on, the friends and family who followed my progress on Facebook, the tracker app, and this blog, Angela Porter at Live Simple for the Pilates, and most of all to my brilliant husband Chris, who believed I could do it even when I didn't.

Signing off now...

NDJ xxx

NDJ's London Marathon - it's tomorrow!

The last two training runs (20 minutes each) are done. My last pre-marathon Pilates session is done. My very long and detailed list of what to pack in my kitbag is done. And honestly? I'm done waiting. 

On Thursday I went to collect my race number, timing chip and kitbag from the London Marathon Expo; an experience which wasn't quite what I was expecting, being more commercial than inspirational, but nonetheless, it confirmed that no mistake had been made, I really am entered to run this thing, with a number and everything.

I am just £100 away from meeting my fundraising target for Crisis, so if you haven't donated yet but have been reading these diary entries, maybe you could hand over a few quid? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015 . I promise you that every penny is going to a really worthwhile cause - if I had to spend even one night sleeping out in the conditions I've seen in the area round King's Cross where I work, I'd be a wreck. I have no idea how people manage to do it night after night, and bluntly, they shouldn't have to. Crisis is advocating for people who can't advocate for themselves, and their work is vital. 

If you want to track my progress tomorrow, you can use my race number, 9001, on the tracker app https://itunes.apple.com/gb/app/london-marathon/id978343907?mt=8 or the London Marathon website. If you're coming to watch, then definitely check the spectator information on the website too. 

It's very weird knowing that this time tomorrow I'll hopefully be nearing the finish line. After four months of training, it feels like it's been both a long time coming and no time at all. 

NDJ's London Marathon - week 16

So the taper continues, as does the increased temperatures. I'd like to suggest that next year's marathon be held in March, just to be on the safe side...

I went out for an hour's run on Wednesday, the hottest day of the year so far at 23 degrees, and although in one way it was quite nice - bright sunshine, no puddles, good chance to practice in my cap - it did freak me out how much more quickly I felt hot and tired. I am really really praying for a temperature below 15 degrees for the marathon, and definitely below 20!

I set out yesterday to run 8 miles, my last 'long run' of these 17 weeks of training, and you know what? I was feeling pretty good. I've been practising sticking to a nice slow pace out of the gate, deliberately slower than my main race pace, as per various bits of advice and to combat my tendency to start off too fast. I got to halfway through and was actively looking forward to the second half and picking up the pace a bit when...

...THE PAVEMENT FOUGHT BACK! Yup, the avenues I've been pounding up and down as part of all my training routes for the last four months decided they'd had enough. My foot landed on a paving slab, it flipped up and, as my foot passed over it (while the rest of my body worked to stop me sprawling headlong into the road), it smacked into the top of my foot.

Having sworn loudly and fulsomely enough to terrify an elderly couple nearby (sorry!), I gingerly walked a few paces to see what was going on. And fuck, it really hurt. There was a big dirty diagonal line across the laces of my shoe, showing where the blow landed. I limped to the river path, to get some space to stop, and took off my shoe. The top of my foot was tender to the touch, but not overly swollen, and I still had full mobility. I rang the husband "I'm okay, but something's happened..."

I walked the 1.5km home, slowly. The pain was abating. Walking felt okay, within reason. I got home and took my shoe and sock off. There was a red patch on top of my foot that was tender and swollen. I slapped on an ice pack and scared myself on Google. I kept reminding myself that full mobility and minimal swelling are good signs.

And today? Well it was painless when I woke up, but it didn't greatly enjoy the walking parts of my morning commute; by mid-afternoon, it was feeling pretty much okay. I still have full mobility and minimal swelling. I'm resting it now.

I've got a 20 minute run scheduled tomorrow. I think it will be fine. Frankly, even if it isn't completely fine, I'm running on Sunday regardless. It'll be fine by then. And after putting myself through all of this for 17 weeks, I am not letting a bloody paving stone stop me running this damn marathon!


I'm running for Crisis, the homeless charity. If you haven't already, please do sponsor me a few pounds - it really will make a big difference. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 15

So, tapering is kind of nice. I had a properly relaxed Easter weekend once the 20 miler was done, in the knowledge that relaxation was actually mandated, although I'm not sure the level of alcohol consumption would feature in any training plans!

I headed out for a short recovery run on Tuesday, which was fine, then a lovely sunny hour's run on Thursday which left me grinning. That said, the increasing temperature is worrying me a bit - after training in freezing conditions for three months, the sudden onset of Spring does present challenges, as exemplified in today's half marathon distance...

I may have been a wee bit overconfident. It just didn't feel like a very long distance in comparison to what I've been doing over the last few weeks. So I may have headed out this morning with just a touch of hangover, and perhaps not enough carbs inside me. And then I made my all too common mistake of starting off a bit fast, which was definitely compounded by the warmer weather and bright sunshine.

It was the first run of the year when I could wear a short sleeved running top, and in retrospect I should have put a cap on too, as my head was feeling a bit boiled towards the end. In the last few kms, I was also thinking a vest top would have been better than a tee - despite a strong wind, it was seriously warm, to the extent that I've acquired faint tan lines on both arms.

So anyway, not being sufficiently fuelled or hydrated, nor properly attired, and starting off too fast, all meant that I ran out of steam after about 10 miles. I made it to 12, and then decided that running another mile with the sun beating on my head and my legs feeling knackered would probably do more harm than good, and stopped. I didn't bonk, but it wasn't far off. Still, maybe it's a good thing to have made the mistakes now and reminded myself of the reasons not to make them on the day!

This week is another couple of shorter runs, and an 8 miler on the weekend, followed by just three 20 minute runs the following week, and then the day itself! I can't quite believe that this time in a fortnight, it'll be over.


As you probably know by now, I'm running the marathon in support of Crisis, the homeless charity. If you'd like to donate a few quid, it would be hugely appreciated: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 14

I started the week still feeling pretty bruised and battered from the rotten 18 miler, which is the only justification I have for failing to realise that if I was planning my 20 miler on Friday, I would have to bring forward my two other runs to Monday and Wednesday; a fact that didn't actually enter my consciousness until Tuesday. To cut a long story short, this meant the only run I ended up doing was a miserable twenty minute 'recovery' trot a couple of days too late, in which ankles, knees and hips all refused to cooperate.

But hey, I was sensible. I went to pilates, I did my physio, I stayed in, ate carbs, and remained sober on Thursday night even though the Leaders Debate would have been enlivened by a few drinks...

And then suddenly, it was Good Friday. Also known as 20 Mile Friday.

I confess, the main motivation for bringing the run forward was to get it out of the way so I stood some chance of enjoying the Easter long weekend. And also, when you've spent weeks hammering your body with higher and higher mileage, once you can see the peak ahead you just want to get there!

I was determined to learn from my mistakes, and not to bonk: I started off slower and forced myself to keep that pace; I started on the sport beans much earlier, rather than waiting till I already felt low on energy; I enlisted my husband to switch my empty water bottle for a full one halfway through.

I kept a steady flow of running 4k then walking 0.5k, and for the vast majority of the distance I actually felt pretty good. I trotted along fairly happily, listening to an Agatha Christie novel on Audible (thanks to Ellie and Keith for the podcasts/books instead of music suggestion), and even though it poured with rain for almost the entire time, I still managed to smile at points. If anything, the rain was quite refreshing, except the couple of times a drop landed in my eye and almost took out my contact lens.

Once I hit about 17m though, it got pretty tough. I was still running - I definitely didn't bonk - but my knees and ankles were starting to feel like they were on fire. I randomly remembered something I'd read about fixing on something in the near distance and running to that, then doing the same again, and again... So I fixed on a red postbox a hundred metres ahead, then a yellow bin a couple of hundred metres ahead of that, then a green sign fifty metres ahead of that... and that's how I ran the last few miles. Well, except when I ran to the half drunk bottle of Fanta impaled on a railing and then spent the next five minutes fantasising about drinking it (I didn't obviously, that would be gross. I guess I just wanted more sugar). And then finally I ran to the red poop scoop bin, and it was done.

I walked the half kilometre home, starting to limp a bit, drank two pints of orange juice and water, ate a cereal bar and some salty crisps, did stretches, and cried when I saw my husband had posted about me on Facebook and people had said lovely things and made donations to Crisis. Then I had a bath, three platefuls of chicken fajitas, a beer, and nine hours sleep, and woke up feeling pretty much fine.

So now it's taper time. Three weeks of slowly bringing down the mileage to get ready for the big day. And now, I honestly can't wait. If I can run 20 miles after weeks of relentlessly building mileage, then I think I can run 26.2 miles on fresh legs. I have to believe I can, anyway.


I'm running the London Marathon in support of Crisis, the homeless charity. I am grateful for every penny that people have donated, and if you haven't done so already, please consider sponsoring me here: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 13

This diary entry could also be accurately titled 'From the Sublime to the Ridiculous'...

Tuesday was amazing. I was only supposed to run for 35 minutes, so I decided to go out and run a fast 5k, which I haven't done since all this marathon training started. And it was bloody joyous, not just for the river at sunset and the ducks and the actual real live utterly random pheasant (which looked far too glossy to be wild - I suspect an escape in the manner of Chicken Run or similar), but because I had forgotten what it was like to feel fast and strong and finish with a joyful sprint that leaves you with a giant face splitting grin that lasts for hours afterwards. Granted, I'm five minutes slower than my 5k PB, coming in at 33 minutes, but that's only to be expected, and when running makes you feel this good, who cares?

Thursday was supposed to be an hour's run, but there was Life Stuff going on which meant cutting back to 45 minutes was the only sensible option. It was fine, steady enough, fast enough, etc etc. No pheasants though. 

And so we come to Saturday, and the 18 mile run. Or, more accurately, the 13 mile run followed by 5 miles of pathetic run-walk awfulness. Yes, reader - I bonked. Or hit the wall. Or fucked it all up. However you prefer to describe it really. On the plus side, I know what happened - I started off too fast, running my fastest ever half marathon, but then had absolutely nothing left in the tank. I've never felt so exhausted. I simply hadn't the energy to put one foot in front of the other any more. It wasn't a mental block - I was trying very hard to give myself a pep talk - it was a physical one. 

Research tells me that bonking happens when the body has consumed its supply of glycogen from the muscles, and can't convert the carbohydrates you're taking on during the run (sport beans etc) fast enough to replenish the reserves. There's also an element of dehydration slowing the absorption of those carbohydrates in the first place. And the best way to encourage this disastrous state of affairs? Start off at too high an intensity.

I'm hoping this is lesson learned. After all, 16 miles last weekend was fine, and I started struggling a lot earlier than that yesterday, so it wasn't about the distance. But however much logic you apply, it doesn't quite stop it being scary. I managed to limp through those last 7km through sheer force of will, but could I have limped through 21km (i.e. to a full marathon)? No, not a chance. 

Next weekend is the last long run, 20 miles, before scaling back to 13 and then 8 in the couple of weeks before the big day, which is 4 weeks today. I simultaneously want longer to prepare, and for it to be here so I can get it over with. I'm already starting to think about life on the other side of it. 

Don't forget, my suffering is in aid of Crisis, who support those suffering far worse. Please donate a few quid here: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 12

There are some things about marathon training that you probably won't know unless you're lucky enough to have close friends who've done it, and feel comfortable discussing bodily functions. Such as, during the longest runs stage (i.e. now) you won't feel fit from it, you'll feel like shit and your body will go all to hell in the most unexpected ways. Some of the benefits I am currently enjoying include spots, eczema, dodgy digestion, and perhaps more predictably, painful joints. I was hobbling like an arthritic old lady by Saturday night after the 14 miler. On Sunday, anything that involved my knees bending (like, you know, sitting down) was difficult. And by Monday, the nagging pain in my left hip had become a stab with every step I took. Frankly, it's bloody ridiculous.

Now I admit, with the exception of my weekly Pilates session, I probably haven't done enough strength/physio work, so scared along by the hip pain (bursitis - lovely name), I did physio work on Monday night, and prayed it would help me get my Tuesday run in. It did, in that the hip pain was lessened, but I only did half an hour instead of 45-50 minutes, because the pain was flaring up again and sometimes even I am capable of exercising common sense.

Pilates on Wednesday, with its wondrous benefits in the core and hip areas, had a huge positive effect, but I decided to play it safe on Thursday and do another round of physio work rather than run. I figured that would ultimately have more benefit to the weekend long run than another short, and possible hip provoking, run would.

Preparing for a 16 mile run yesterday was very different to the week before - I wasn't scared of it, but I was worried about whether my hip would hold up. To that end, as well as taping my knees, which I have done on long runs in the past, I also followed instructions to tape a giant asterisk over my hip, with the pain spot right at its centre. Did I mention my tape is tiger print? It was quite a look... though thankfully mostly covered by my running tights.

Whether it was the physio, the tape, the extra rest between runs, or just my body adapting to the training, the 16 mile run was better than last week's 14 miler, at least while I was doing it. I still have a tendency to start off too fast and then struggle at the end, but I stuck to my run 5k then walk 1k formula, and although the last couple of kilometres of the fourth round of that were particularly tough, the1.75 'rogue' kilometres to finish the run (25.75km in all) pulled out a last burst of energy, and I finished feeling pretty okay, in just over 3 hours. My hip was twinging slightly and my knees were a little sore, but physically I felt in better shape than at the end of the 12 and 14 milers.

Well, until I almost fainted in the shower, couldn't really eat dinner, and keep feeling like I was swimming through glue.

I honestly don't know what happened. I followed my usual routine of water and cereal bars straight after the run, then stretching and showering, but my body just didn't cope very well for some reason. It was a little bit scary until I googled and found all the other runners with the same reactions after long runs, but even then, it wasn't a pleasant way to spend the evening.

Today I've been okay - knees and general leg muscles much less sore than last week, though hip has flared up again. I'll work through some stretching and gentle physio this evening and tomorrow, and then be running again on Tuesday. It's bizarre to think there's only two proper long runs left before the marathon (the half marathon two weeks before no longer qualifies as a long run, in this context). Honestly, I just want it to be over now.


Don't forget, I'm running the London Marathon in support of Crisis. If you're enjoying the tales of my suffering, why not donate a few quid to ease someone else's? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 11

By Tuesday, the fear that came out of failing to run 14 miles last weekend had turned to anger. I was fuming about having to go for a run, I was spitting about how boring it all was, how the training had sucked the joy from running, how I'd rather go and have my other wisdom tooth taken out than go for a run... I spent the first 40 minutes of the 55 minute session writing a mean and sarcastic blog in my head about how marathon training is a soul-sucking, painful, utterly joyless experience; the last 15 minutes were quite good, which in context was terribly annoying.

Remember that thing about Tuesdays being cursed?!

Anyway, the one good thing I did do on Tuesday, though at my husband's instigation and not without grumbling, was order a new pair of trainers. Despite the new running shoes disaster early in my training, I had to face facts that my beloved Nikes had, after almost 600km, given up the ghost, and continuing to train in them was probably a bad idea. So I just ordered the exact same pair of very basic £40 Nike running shoes, and they arrived just in time for my Thursday run. Which was actually pretty good, and included at least five minutes of reasonably joyous running.

And so we come to today. 14 miles to run. I was so scared that I delayed going out by using spurious excuses for at least an hour, during which time I kept having to stop myself throwing up, because that's what happens when I'm that scared. During that hour I seriously contemplated jacking in the whole thing, because of course the real reason I was scared was that I knew this was crunch time. Let's face it, if I failed again, then the marathon wasn't realistically going to happen. 

It's never been one of my goals to run the whole marathon without walking. I know that's a really important component for some people, but I was always planning on walking through my H&N breaks (not least because I lack the coordination to drink and eat while running), and over the last few weeks I've been reading a lot about how much difference walk breaks can make to your body's ability to run further. So I decided to play it safe today, and split the run into four sections: three of 6km each  where 5km is run and the last km is walked, leaving the last section as 4.5km of pure running to the finish (14 miles is 22.5 km). 

And you know what? It worked like a bloody charm.

What I hadn't realised was that apart from the physical benefit, there's a huge psychological one. By focusing on each section, rather than the whole distance, I felt in control and much more confident. To be honest, the first three sections (to 18km) were relatively painless. In fact, it was only the last 3km that hurt and where my pace slowed, but that's been true of every long run - when I did 12 miles, the last 3km were hardest too. Today getting to 12 miles (19km) was fine, it only got hard once I was pushing beyond where I'd been before. Which is kind of fine, until you consider that there's going to be 6.2 miles of that on marathon day, because the longest run beforehand is 20 miles! But hey, that's a worry for another day. And actually, I did sprint the last 100 metres because I had energy left in the tank (and because I wanted it to be over!). 

Once I was home, eating toast and jam in the bath, I felt pretty fine. My legs are aching this evening, but not in a worrying way. And the fear is diminished, at least for now. 

So, 14 miles is done. Next weekend 16, then 18, then 20, then it's tapering down in the lead up to the day itself, six weeks tomorrow. God, in just over six weeks it'll be over. I can't decide if that's brilliant or terrifying. 

Don't forget, I'm running the London Marathon in support of Crisis. If you're enjoying this diary of my suffering, why not donate a few quid to help ease someone else's? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015 

NDJ's London Marathon - weeks 9 and 10

I had a plan. I really did have a plan. I knew from the beginning that we had a week's holiday in the middle of the marathon training period, and just like with the weekend away in Dublin at the start of the year, I just needed to plan around it.

So here was the plan: in week 9, I would run a normal medium length run midweek, then squeeze in a 10 miler on Friday before we left early Saturday. I would then push the 14 miler due that weekend to the next weekend (made possible by some leeway around long runs being pre-built into my training plan, presumably for exactly this reason), so then all I had to do was make sure I got two medium length runs in during our holiday, aka week 10, before coming home to the 14 miler today.

Yeah, that was the plan.

It started off okay with a nice regular run on the Wednesday, but then my early finish from work on the Friday, which would have allowed the 10 miler, didn't happen as planned, and even when I did get home I had a few more hours of work to get through before holiday. I did go out for a run, but it was a damn fast 5k in between dealing with budget drafts and bazillions of emails. And once we were on holiday, time went so fast, and there were so many pages to write and conversations to have, and beaches to walk on, that somehow those two runs never got done, and then I was going to fit in a quick one on the day we got back, but we ended up getting back later than planned, so that didn't happen, and before I knew it I was facing a 14 miler after not running at all for over a week.

I managed 10 miles, and most of it was horrific. The first 5k hurt because my legs were stiff and out of practice. The last 5k hurt like hell because my right IT band tightened to the point where it felt like I was hobbling rather than running. The 6k in the middle was okay, I guess. I limped home and was vaguely proud of managing not to cry until the front door closed behind me. I was crying because I was so angry with myself, by the way, not because everything hurt, though it did and still does.

I've found it really hard to write this. I guess I'm worried that for some people, it will reinforce the things they already think about my chances of running a marathon. Well, fuck 'em. I'm the only person who knows if I can run a marathon, and I still think I can.

So what's next? Back to the normal training schedule, with a physio appointment to look at the IT band if it's still hurting tomorrow, a Pilates session on Wednesday to get my hips opened up again, and another go at the 14 miler next weekend.

NDJ's London Marathon - weeks 7 and 8

Week 7 was a designated 'easy' week - 20 minute, 30 minute and 50 minute runs. The 20 minute one didn't happen, I went out for the night instead, the 30 minute one was a bit rubbish (because I'd been out for the night), and the 50 minute one was fine. So that's week 7 in two sentences, on to week 8!

Tuesdays remain jinxed. I only managed 35 minutes of what was supposed to be a 50 minute run. My joints all felt locked up, stiff and inflexible, and I was knackered before I even set out. Thankfully, my brilliant Pilates teacher Angela was able to get my hips working properly again on Wednesday, and Thursday's run was just fine. If anything my main problem, which carried through into my 12 miler on Saturday, is that as I get fitter and therefore faster, I struggle not to start off too quickly and burn out too early. That said, the extra fitness was a bonus when we climbed the O2 on Thursday afternoon, which was brilliant and the sort of cross training I can heartily recommend.

So, we come to the 12 miler (19.3km). Having tackled 10 miles two weeks ago, I at least had a sense of what to expect. This time, though, I came prepared. This is the stage at which the training plan demands you start practising 'H&N' - hydration and nutrition - and the training plan must be obeyed. I decided to factor in two five minute walk breaks for water and sport beans (gels are just too... urgh; it's the texture) at around 8km and 15km.

The first 5km were fine, still a little too fast, though I was consciously trying to slow it down a bit. I had a surprise visitor at 6km, when my husband appeared beside me on his bike and cycled alongside for five minutes before sprinting off to get his own miles in. I couldn't believe how much that unexpected visit made me grin, and what a boost it was - I really hope that's a taste of what spotting friends and family along the marathon route will be like!

I was feeling fine when I got to 8km and the first planned H&N break. I was really tempted to keep going, but had to remind myself that the whole point of having a plan in place is so you don't wait till you feel knackered before taking on water and energy, so I dutifully walked for five minutes while munching a couple of sport beans and drinking some water, now unpleasantly lukewarm from being clutched in my hand for 8km.

Once I started running again, I didn't feel any immediate effect, but I did notice the benefit once I hit the 12km mark that had left me feeling crap on the 10 mile run. I still had a bit of a low, but it didn't come with that total lack of energy, and I was able to power through it. I felt like I needed the 15km H&N though, despite only having one sport bean this time, both because there were only a few km to go, and because having two the first time had created some ominous stomach sensations - even though you're supposed to have up to eight in one go!

Through to 17km then felt fine, but the last 2km were horrible. I didn't feel tired in energy terms, but my feet were hurting and my legs were knackered. When I was finally done it was just a huge relief, both because I couldn't have done more, and because I actually did it! Looking back at my times, I was pretty consistent throughout, but it was indeed those last 2km when my time per km slowed by over 30 seconds.

That said, even with the two H&N walk breaks and a slow last 2km, the run overall was faster than the 10 miler, and that's got to be good. Especially as on marathon day, I've got to do that distance twice plus a bit...


Don't forget, I'm running the London Marathon in support of Crisis. If you're enjoying this diary of my suffering, why not donate a few quid to help end someone else's? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 6

Tuesdays are jinxed, I’ve decided. After last week’s Silly Injury Tuesday, this week I enjoyed If It Ain’t Broke, Mess With It and Suffer the Consequences Tuesday. Yes, I bought new running shoes. No, I shouldn’t have been seduced by the ‘you must buy new shoes for the marathon’ hype. Which was beautifully proven by a 45 minute run in which I felt like I was landing on concrete blocks, got aches and pains in parts of my legs that have never before complained while running, and basically got thoroughly pissed off.

The shoes have been sent back. Normal service has resumed.

So Thursday’s run, by contrast, was of course lovely. Hill running route, all feeling good, no messing. Which was lucky, because I was already nervous enough about Sunday’s 10 miler. I’ve banged on about this at length, I know, but this marked the transition from running a time to running a distance, and it freaked me out.

So not surprising then that I was feeling incredibly jittery when I set out, and had to keep slowing myself down so I wouldn’t burn through all my (nervous) energy in the first half. 10 miles is 16km, and logically enough, once I got into my stride, the first 10k was absolutely fine – it’s my comfort zone after all. The next couple of kilometres, taking me to three quarters of the way through, were slightly slower, but I was still feeling pretty good. Then it seemed to take forever to get from 12km to 13km. It didn’t really, of course - looking back via Nike+, my pace barely changed. But it felt like forever. The voice in my head started saying “I can’t, I can’t”, and it was increasingly difficult to disagree. I just felt drained of energy – my breathing was fine, my legs were tired but fine, I just felt like I was slowing to a crawl and there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, and try not to give in. And then suddenly I was at 14km, there were only 2km to go, I knew I could do that, and I had a surge of energy. Not a big, sprint finish type surge, but one that was just enough to speed me back up to normal pace, put a smile on my face, and get me through those last kilometres in fine style.

I’d wanted to do it in under 2 hours. It took me 1 hour, 59 minutes and 8 seconds. Next time, it’ll be faster.

 

Don’t forget, I’m running the London Marathon in support of Crisis. If you’re enjoying this diary of my suffering, why not donate a few quid to help end someone else’s? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - Tin rattling

Quite apart from injury, and snow, and hill running, and the desperate search for a public clock, something else happened this week: I chose my charity. It was a long time coming, with a lot of overthinking, but in the end last week's snow and freezing weather, while making running difficult, made the choice of charity much easier.

Like most people who work in central London, my journey to work makes homelessness impossible to ignore. And in a week where my colleagues and I bemoaned our frozen hands and feet every day after a ten minute walk from the tube station, contemplating what it must be like to sleep out in that kind of weather, as I see people doing every morning, is terrifying.

And so I have decided to run for Crisis, a brilliant charity whose work in supporting the homeless and campaigning to end homelessness you can read more about here: Crisis website

I'm well aware that people are always asking for sponsorship, for everything from growing a moustache, to giving up booze, to running a marathon, so please don't feel obliged in any way. But if you do have a few pounds going spare and would like to put it towards the worthy cause of my suffering over 26.2 miles, you can donate here: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015

NDJ's London Marathon - week 5

Tuesday was a very bad day. I was walking to the tube station after work when I came across an enormous group of spatially unaware German tourists, who were not only blocking the pavement, but the entrance to the tube as well. I stepped into the road to get around them, and as I stepped back onto the pavement, my hip socket screamed. I have no idea how stepping could do such a thing, but there it is. I limped to the tube, hoping that I could walk it off, but no. By the time I got home it was still complaining loudly.

Cue total meltdown.

I think after having a cold last week, and that really messing with training, this just felt like the final straw. I adopted an immediate policy of extreme RICEWSP: rest, ice, compression, elevation, wine, self pity. It was ugly.

But thankfully, it worked. Waking up on Wednesday I had slight stiffness, but no pain (other than a white wine headache), and ventured out for the missed run, which ended up being my best training run so far. It was hill training, which I can do by running up and down five avenues that run parallel to each other on a hill not far from home. Up First Avenue, down Second, up Third, down Fourth, up Fifth, and repeat in reverse. The nicest thing about hill running is that once you're then back on the flat, which I was for the final twenty minutes, it feels so easy that you just fly through it.

Shifting that first run to Wednesday, though, meant having to do my second standard distance run on Friday, which was a problem for two reasons: firstly, I never workout on a Friday night, and my brain and body both know it; secondly, it had bloody snowed. But nonetheless, I ventured out, keeping to a very very boring circuit along the three paths that had been gritted, managing four times round, about 35 minutes, before the surfaces started to freeze and my feet started to slip, and I had to call it a day.

And so we come to Sunday, this week’s long run, notable for being the last long run based on time rather than distance, a milestone I’ve been dreading. As I was supposed to be out for 90 minutes, I decided to do 2 laps of a 45 minute loop I’ve used before, and to be honest, I was so nervous that the first 40 minutes were mainly jittery, and trying not to run too fast – which may have actually happened, as that’s when I completed the first loop. But then somehow I seemed to calm down, any niggly aches and pains vanished, and I started to feel like I could keep running like this for a very very long time. And then, with fifteen minutes to go, my phone died – the phone that tracks my run and gives me updates. And I wasn’t wearing a bloody watch.

So I finished the loop for the second time, but knowing that I’d done the first loop in 40 minutes and that my pace was faster on the second, I knew I wouldn’t have hit the magic 90 minutes. So I ran through the university campus behind the park, hoping there might be a clock on a building, or that I could see through a window. Yes, really. And believe me, I’ve never been so happy to see an LED ‘IT Services welcomes you’ screen, complete with date and time, in my life. As it turned out, I’d not only run the required time, but 5 minutes over, and when I got home and plugged my phone in and did some sums, it turns out I’d run at least 13km, which means next week’s 10 mile requirement (16km) should be easily within reach.

NDJ's London Marathon - week 4

This week was a bit of a mess, to be honest. I had a two day 'retreat' with work midweek, which meant in theory I should have run on Monday, but on Monday I had a killer sore throat and so decided to rest to stave off a full on cold, then went off on retreat and found myself so exhausted and sneezy by the time I was heading back home that I cancelled my pilates class for the first time ever (and I LOVE my pilates class) to head to bed early, only to wake up with a full on streaming cold.

I did drag myself out on a miserable 45 minute run, and consoled myself with the thought that maybe this process is more about pushing through the runs you don't want to do, the ones that are hard, than it is about the lovely ones that you glide through... but mostly I just grumped in my head and tried not to become irrationally angry about having a stupid cold and a stupid retreat in the same stupid week.

So to say I wasn't in the best frame of mind for yesterday's long run would be an understatement. Especially as I was about to attempt the longest run I have ever done, i.e. breaking past my 10k comfort zone. And did I mention I have a cold? So before I even had my trainers on, I was priming my husband to deal with the fallout from my inevitable failure. There was no way I was going to be able to run for 75 minutes, more than 10k. It wasn't going to happen.

Except, of course, that in the end it did. It happened more slowly, and with a lot more snotting and coughing than usual, but I still covered 10.5 and a bit km, which is a quarter of a marathon. And while in the immediate aftermath the thought of doing that three more times in succession made me want to cry, in the light of day, and with 13 weeks of training still to go, it feels alright.

NDJ's London Marathon - week 3

I worked out that at a conservative estimate, I spent about 8 hours walking around Dublin (and airports) last weekend, including 3 hours in one go on Saturday morning, so I'm not feeling too bad about having sacrificed a week 2 training run for the trip. Also, Guinness is full of iron and other nutrients, so it was really quite a healthy weekend...

Anyway, on to week 3! This was the week where the overall mileage started to feel a bit more challenging. The individual runs are still within my comfort zone (just!), but before I started this training plan I wouldn't have done two 45 minute runs and a 1 hour run in the same week. But then that's the challenge of moving from being a 5k/10k runner to doing a marathon, and it's not like I didn't know this was going to happen!

I'm starting to settle into a good pattern with my two standard runs - one on Tuesday evening when I get home from work, one late Thursday afternoon because it's my working from home day. Just like last week, the Tuesday night run turned out slower than normal, and I'm becoming increasingly convinced that it's something to do with running in the dark. Thursday's run was faster and easier, getting home just as the sun was going down. 

Today's long run was an hour, and it felt pretty good. In fact, I was really tempted to push on a bit further when I was coming to the end, as I knew my legs had more in them, but I made myself a promise that I would stick faithfully to the training plan, so I did. I think I'm feeling the pressure of knowing that the long runs go from minutes to miles in week 6, and I'm worried given my mileage at the moment that it's going to be a really huge leap from running 80 minutes to running 10 miles. Then again, as soon as I stop thinking 10 miles and start thinking 16km I feel a bit better. It's weird, the miles versus km thing - 26.2 miles sounds terrifying, but 42km sounds like, well, four and a bit 10k's. Which for some reason is better. 

I've got to start thinking properly about cross-training now. I do one to one pilates with my awesome teacher Angela on a Wednesday night, but otherwise at the moment I haven't been doing anything. I'm well aware I need to get back to strength work, especially upper body, so I'm going to sort out a plan for that this week. Also, I'm very close to fixing the two charities I'm going to run for, so I'll be sorted before we hit three months to go on 26th... 

Oh god, three months really doesn't sound like a very long time, does it? I have moments when I really waver about whether I can do this. But I really want to do it, so hopefully that's what will carry me through. 

NDJ's London Marathon - week 2

I had my first diary challenge this week, because I was spending the weekend in Dublin, and quite apart from not being able to take my kit without paying Ryanair's extortionate baggage fees, I knew perfectly well that I wouldn't get a run in.

So thanks to the wisdom of the internet (Runner's World), I decided to cut one of my shorter runs and bring my long run forward. This meant that after doing my long run last Sunday, I did a standard run on Tuesday and my next long run on Thursday. Luckily because it's still early in the programme, this didn't create too much of a problem, though my legs were feeling tired after the last run.

Tuesday's run was the best kind of night run - cold and clear, with such a good view of the stars that I practically got a crick in my neck looking up while running (slowly!) at the highest point of my route. Running at night always feels like a secret little world to me, as I run past lighted windows and spot people going about their business inside, then run up the hill and into the proper darkness and the view of the stars. But then when I got home and checked my Nike+, I found out my speed, which had felt no different to last week's runs, was considerably slower. It felt like ending the run on a bad note, which I hated. I don't think it would have bothered me if I'd been running for fun rather than training, and this is something that does worry me a bit. I don't want to lose the pleasure of it.

Thursday's long run was fine, sunshine and drizzle as I ran late afternoon - having just agreed to work from home one day a week - although my legs tired a little sooner than normal. It was a good run, my speed was back to normal, and it felt like I was getting the miles under my belt, in the best sense.

So what else is happening... well, there are two dilemmas I'm chewing on.

Firstly, whether to buy new running shoes. I have very basic Nikes, which I love and have done almost all of my running in, but I'm well aware that they don't do anything fancy, and I worry that I'm missing out on potential benefits, or making things harder than they need to be. On the other hand, if it ain't broke...?

Secondly, I have to choose a charity, or charities, to run for. While I'm really pleased to have a ballot place and therefore a free choice, the sheer range of options is dizzying, and all of them deserving. There are definitely areas that I feel more affinity with than others: mental health, supporting people through sport, women in the developing world, and education, but that barely narrows it down. I know it's in many ways a nice problem to have - and maybe I'm being arrogant to assume anyone will want to give me any money anyway - but I'm really scared of getting it wrong. Though can you get it wrong, if it's giving money to charity?  I don't have an answer yet, but I'll need one soon, or there won't be time to raise any cash!

NDJ's London Marathon - week 1

I'm ECW's cousin NDJ, and I'm running the London Marathon on 26 April 2015. So that my regular blog doesn't get filled with marathon talk, she has kindly lent me her Brighton Marathon blog to talk about my upcoming race and the inevitable training!

What do you need to know about me? I'm a 34 year old university manager, with a sideline in writing and photography, and I've been running for just over a year, but haven't tackled a race of more than 10k before, so this is pretty epic! I usually run about three times a week, two evening runs of around 5k and a longer run up to 10k at the weekend. I'm now following a 17 week training programme, which is probably quite similar to most 'beginners' marathon training programmes, which keeps it at three runs a week: two medium runs that include intervals, hills, etc, and one longer run at the weekend.

What else? Well, I got my marathon place through the ballot, which was a huge shock given it's the first time I've entered, and everyone else I know had at least three tries before being successful. My initial reaction was excitement mixed with terror, and I'm still feeling the same way! I am planning to run for a charity (or possibly two) but I still haven't decided which.

Anyway, you'll hear more over the next 16 weeks, but for now, here's the rundown on the first week of training...

Tuesday was my first official training run, and after a week off running which included Christmas, you can probably imagine I wasn't feeling my freshest or fittest. On the plus side, I was able to run in daylight, which was a lovely novelty after running mostly on dark evenings over the last couple of months, although frost underfoot made it a little dicey in places. The plan only had me running 20 minutes, with 10 minute walks either side, which is less than I would usually do, but I have vowed to follow the plan to the letter, so there we go. Actually it was lucky - I could really feel the Christmas weight slung round my waist like a bumbag full of wine and cheese! I wouldn't say I enjoyed it, but it felt good to be back out in the fresh air, and to get the First Official Training Run done!

Normally I would do my second run on a Thursday, but as I was nursing a mild NYE hangover and suffering from lack of sleep, I postponed it till Friday, then did my third, longer, run today. Both runs were glorious - cold, clear weather, steady pace, finishing still feeling strong enough that I could have run further.

I'm under no illusion that at the moment the training is easy because the distances are still safely within my comfort zone. I know it will get harder, and that once I'm back at work this week, juggling the time will get tougher too. But at the moment I'm still feeling optimistic, so long may it continue!