Anyway - I joined PureGym after all the raised eyebrows and laughter at what I had signed up to and decided to try not to mention it to anyone after that. The general consensus was that it was wholly foolish and that I wouldn't be able to do it. That was until I realised I was becoming addicted to running and people could tell I was pretty damn serious about this challenge. This picture became my motivation when I wasn't out running...
When I got back I went straight to the gym, but to my horror I could only do 2km before wheezing and feeling awful. Devastated I went home feeling like my holiday had ruined my running buzz. I had signed up to one session with my new PT a week, and before long, she had me sprinting up the zig-zag paths and doing beach runs on sand to strengthen my joints. (She even signed up to do the half marathon so she could be there on the day.) Cross training in the gym included circuits working on my upper body strength and core work. I understood then that it wasn't all about the running. I started to run outdoors properly in the summer, and by the time the race numbers appeared in the post, I had got to the point of being able to run 14km. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I did know that at least the 10km event would be a breeze. The aim was to just run it and enjoy it, and to beat my PB. I decided to look at it as a warm up, and yet I still refused to study the route for the next day's half marathon.
On the day of the 10km event, I wandered casually down to the beach, knowing I had about 2 hours to kill until I needed to be in my colour pen, ready to run. My sister was on a train on her way down to Bournemouth and my partner in crime was driving down from Colchester too. I thought I'd see them at the end, and that was good, as I was nervous as hell. I was utterly surprised then, when as I was gearing myself up in the pen, nervously chatting to another runner, my sister was there, waving and shouting to me! Elated! And then I was off...
I wouldn't say I ran my hardest, or my best. But I ran. I wanted to stop a couple of times, but I just carried on going. It hurt, but I made it. And I beat my PB by a minute. The crowds and the marching bands, and all the adrenaline in my body was what made the day fantastic. We collected my medal, my bag, and walked home together. A thai curry and a film later, I was shattered and ready for bed. The start time for the half marathon was 8am the next morning and my PT sent me a message to say that if I didn't want to go ahead with it, it would be okay. More determined than ever, I replied that I would simply see her at the start at 7:30am. I nervously snuck a look at the route map as I fell asleep.I woke up the next morning bouncy and ready to go. I wasn't hurting anywhere, and although I hadn't really slept a wink, I felt so ready. I couldn't wait to get started. I ate some rice from the left over curry, and half a nutty snack bar along with quite a lot of water, and we made our way to Kings Park to the start of the race. Being with Nat (my PT) was a godsend. I don't think I could have done the race as easily if it wasn't for her constantly looking out for me, passing me water at the water stations, and jelly babies. Pacing me the whole way, and encouraging me when I was low. She ran just faster than my pace, and was the constant voice that kept me running. The route was different to anything I had run before, including a long slow hill as well as a short steep one. Doing those zig-zag sprints were a great part of my training I now realise. The cheering crowds again were fantastic, and when we hit the 14km mark, Nat reminded me that every step I took from this point was the farthest I had ever run, and that feeling was incredible, I really felt like I could keep running forever! (That feeling didn't last however.) As we edged down the hill towards Bournemouth Pier, we soon realised the route then took us along the beach front to Boscombe pier, around that, and then back to Bournemouth Pier, before running around that and then up to the finish line. The feeling of being almost there was overwhelming and as we turned the corner towards Boscombe, I saw my whole family cheering and shouting my name. IMMENSE FEELING.
That feeling boosted me no end as we ran and tried to keep pace. I soon began to feel incredibly tired and my legs were like lead. We pushed on, and even accepted jelly babies from spectators. Side-stepping really helped at this point. Weirdly I think I might not have made that last stretch without doing some side steps! As we circled the pier at Boscombe and started to run back, we knew we would make it. I ran in silence, almost desperate to finish, but also not wanting the feeling to end. That last 2km was the hardest I've ever run. It took some serious energy in my body and mind to get me through that. But as soon as I saw my family again, the run round the pier was filled with laughing and elated jibber-jabber between Nat and I. The corner turned and the finish line in front of us.... we sprinted.
I have signed up to do a 10km run on November 24th and Nat and I are looking at entering the Bournemouth Bay Run next March.
Ps, you can still donate to the Mental Health Foundation here: http://www.justgiving.com/AlisonHoare
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