Half way?

I did everything wrong!

I really should have paid more attention to those long runs I keep reading about! If you saw the previous blast you will know that a couple of weeks ago I managed 11 miles and was feeling pretty confident. This was followed by a terrible week of only managing a couple of miles.

As I was job-less last week you would have thought I'd have lots of time to do some training right? Well you thought wrong! It turns out being jobless is a full time job in itself - you spend hours visiting ALL the jobsites, days checking for facebook updates and a surprising amount of time cooking lunch. I did manage to do two lots of five mile runs and I even got a new job, I'd say that was a successful week. Any way, as a result of doing two runs in a row, my body freaked out and those stupid glands popped up again. I decided it was best to rest up at my mums until the half marathon on the Sunday. Instead of sticking to my sensible eating plan of brown pasta, I gorged myself on ice cream and chocolate bunnies and chocolate chicks and chocolate eggs and even a chocolate cow - I basically ate an entire farm!

In addition to my mum, the rest of my support team (consisting of brother and his girlfriend) arrived on Saturday and proceed to take the piss out of my 'carb loading', they didn’t believe ice cream was how athletes prepare. What do they know?! Rookies!

On Saturday, after eating what can only be described as the Kilimanjaro of spaghetti bolognaise (wholemeal spaghetti of course), I embarked on an early night. I couldn't sleep. Sunday, I woke late and groggy with a sore throat and a wish to remain in bed. The car was filled with blankets, sandwiches, water and running know-how, ready to cross the country and tackle the half marathon. With about 45 mins to spare we were within a mile of the race track (the half marathon was at a motor race track). 45 minutes later we were still within a mile of the race track.

I was freaking out at this point. I had an image of my self starting way behind every one else and running the whole thing alone, being the very last person to cross the line. I tried to squash this fear by downing water. We finally arrived, after a quick dash to the toilet, I was ready to join the other runners. This involved climbing a fence (seriously!) and trying to locate the slowest runners in the pack - I headed towards the back.

Before I knew it and with no time to warm up, we were off!

Ah this isn't too bad, I might be able to do this, yeah, yeah I CAN do this. Woohoo. Go go go. Ooh getting a little harder now. Well we must be over half way by now. Yep I can keep going. Wait, what?! What do you mean we haven't done a mile yet! There was a serious problem with their mile measurements, they were the longest miles in the WORLD!

It was hot, I was beginning to burn and by mile 3, I was very glad to see the water stand. At this point I was keeping up with the two guys carrying a surfboard, but I was ok. Ok so yes, I felt a little queasy but a bit more water would help, surely. Ooh a lucozade stand at mile 5! I haven't really had lucozade in training but if they were giving it out it must be good for you. Hmmm lucozade not so good, more water then. At mile 7 I saw my supporters, doing an excellent supporting job. I was feeling very sick at this point but there was no way I was going to start walking in front of them! Unfortunately we were coming up to the part of the course where you have to run over the worlds steepest bridge. My supporters just had to be standing at the base of it didn’t they! Ok Mohammed, bring on the mountain!

I climbed, I climbed and I climbed. I got to the top. I had made it over half way, I had climbed a mountain… I was sick.

Yep, up came all that water! Clinging to the rail at the side, trying not to throw up on spectators, my running dreams all came flying up and out of my mouth. Brilliant. But I am not a quitter! No sir!

So on I went. Wobbly yes but on, indeed! Ok so I walked for a bit but I picked my feet up (which I could no longer feel) and ran once again. In fact I ran/walked the rest of the way. As more and more runners went past, I remained with the other zombies, feeling more disappointed with every step but unable to stop. That finish line really took it's time in finding me. I finally mustered the energy to run over the finish line at 2 hours 36 which was only twelve minutes off my original aim so I guess I shouldn't be that disappointed. My supporters did an excellent job, so thank you mum, brother and brothers girlfriend, brilliant cheering!

An old man came up to me at the end and thanked me, apparently I had been his marker, every time I moved, he moved. Who knew! He then pointed out my charity vest and said ‘that’s the religious charity isn’t it? My mum supports them’.

I’m finding it hard to walk today and why did no one tell me about bum blisters?!
Only 5 weeks to the big one, ready? Err no!