Picture This

Race photos are a weird thing. They should be the ultimate triumph. A reflection of the effort and determination to get through the race challenge. A joy to behold. In reality, I have only ever bought one race photo, out of all the various races I have done, because in virtually every one I am a sweaty, vein bulging, face like a beetroot, pain and struggle etched on every sinew, mess. And then there is this photo. And this photo says more to me about running than any other I have ever had the misfortune to be in. Because this photo sums up why running is special to me.

The photo shows me, my brother Gary, and our friend David, whom we have known since primary school. David was in Gary’s class at primary school and lived only a couple of streets away from where we grew up. The three of us are heading towards the finish line of the Falkirk Half Marathon, having run the race together.

At times I ran with Gary. At times I ran with David. At times Gary ran with David. At times all three of us were together. As we got towards twelve miles or so, and Gary and I were together, David dropped back slightly, so we slowed down to make sure we finished as one.

The Falkirk race was important to me for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I am from Falkirk so was very keen to support this inaugural event – though the organisers did not make that easy – plus with the opportunity for Gary and I to run with each other. The last time we ran an actual race together was a 10km event in Edinburgh back in 2018 I think. We live more than one hundred miles apart so it is not too easy for us to line up on a start line for the same race. When I did the Glasgow Half Marathon in 2019, Gary did the 10km as he had not been able to train for the half distance, so this race was always going to be special.

“I did not think I would able to race”

However, three days before it, I did not not even think I would be able to race, due to the latest in a long line of stupid injuries which I seem to have endured this year. After straining a calf muscle walking out the front door to fill up the bird feeder a few months back – yes, honestly – this one was even more dumb. Injured picking up a wheelie bin!

The weather here was awful, so on the day of the bin collection, one of the wheelie bins outside our house got blown over by the wind. I went in the pouring rain and high winds to pick it up, to discover it was our neighbours and not ours, so I was a bit annoyed at that. As I picked it up, trying to get it down quickly so I could get out of the gale and pelting raindrops, by mistake, I planted my right foot half on the kerbstone on the side of the pavement and half on the road. Immediately, it felt like a hot poker had been shoved straight into the inside part of my foot.

“I could barely walk”

I spent the whole of Thursday with my foot elevated and wore a strapping around it. On Friday morning I could barely walk and I said to my wife at that point that I did not think there was much chance of me being able to run. I event struggled to walk a couple of hundred yards to get from my car into the office. Less than ideal with the prospect of thirteen point one miles on the Sunday morning looming right ahead.

So this was when I began to ignore every bit of advice I would ever give anyone else. I decided that painkillers was a reasonable strategy to try and get at least to the start line. Now I am not recommending this to anyone, but I really, really wanted to run. And so, a couple of paracetomol popped in on Saturday morning and things began to feel a bit easier. Keeping the foot elevated had also helped take down the swelling. the strapping even felt ok. Maybe this was going to work out.

“no clue how things would go”

When I got up on Sunday morning, the foot was not too bad. It was not great, but it was a million percent better than it had been on Friday morning as I hobbled my way around the streets of Aberdeen. So at least I was not going to be a DNS (did not start), but I still thought there was a pretty big prospect of being a DNF (did not finish). I genuinely had no clue how things would go. My only strategy was to take things easy and see how it felt. I have written many times before about how running builds resilience, well this was going to test that resilience, and probably test out my pain threshold too.

Strapped up, ready to go. Well, as ready as I was going to be…

When we got going, I was very concious that I was running with a limp – there is a video at the start which I saw subsequently, and the limp is very pronounced – but as I got going, the foot felt ok. It was sore, but not agony. And in that first mile, it did not deteriorate, so this was fine. As almost all runners will know, running with a bit of pain is not particularly unusual. As the race developed, there were a few stinging twinges, and I was doing all I could to make sure I ran on solid ground and avoided any pot holes on the road or any twigs or uneven surfaces in the off road stages. It was more than bearable.

The route was great and I loved the race. There was also a large group from my JogScotland group taking part too and it was lovely to see them beforehand, and out on the route too.

The JogScotland team before we started

I mentioned earlier about the organisation, so a quick note on that. Prior to the event, I had received zero communication about the event, relying on other people who were taking part to pass on information. The only info I actually got from the organisers was when they replied to a question I posed on their Instagram account. Less than ideal and I hope that is fixed for any future events.

Returning to the race, as the miles ticked by, the foot just stayed as it was. A bit sore, but nothing more than that. as we ran past Falkirk’s finest sights – Calendar House, the Falkirk Wheel and the magnificent Kelpies.

Passing The Kelpies with only a couple of miles to go

Certainly nothing that was going to stop me finishing. Part of my twisted logic – along with the painkillers – was that this was going to be my last race of the year anyway, I was planning to rest a bit in December, so who cared if it hurt. I would not particularly recommend this strategy to anyone else, but it kind of made sense to me at the time.

So as we turned down that finishing straight, together, having got through adversity to get there, having put up with the crappy pre-race organisation, having ignored the pain to race in the first place, that is why this picture means so much.

It is friendship. It is family. It is pleasure. It is pain. And for me, this is what running is about. Testing yourself, yes, but much more than that. It is about enjoyment and the pleasure in doing something which is special and means so much with people you love and care about. And for that, I will always cherish this image.

Again

It is mile twenty four of the Venice Marathon. I feel like death warmed up. Legs are in bits, brain is mush, feet no longer feel connected to my body, my arms are moving but they seem to bear no correlation to anything else, it is hot and I am shattered.

Fast forward three weeks and I have signed up to another marathon so I get the chance to put myself through it all again. I must be off my head. Why, after everything I went through in Venice, do I even want to consider doing that to myself one more time?

To be honest, Venice left me with unfinished business with the marathon. I got through it and got to the end – and am totally delighted with all of that – but I also got to the end thinking that this was not the end of my marathon journey, and perhaps these images also help explain. I had a look this week at some of my marathon pictures and they kind of summed up the marathon in just two images, the imaginary and the reality of a marathon finish. First the imaginary.

Nearing the end

So here, I am gliding to the line, with so much energy that I can punch my hand in the air and roar out my joy and delight at defeating the 26.2 course. It is me against the marathon distance and once again, it is me who has won. Five time, undefeated champion, of the marathon course.

And then there is the reality.

After the finish line

Getting past the finish line and I could barely stand up. Everything drained out of me at this point. Any energy I had left was simply being devoted to not falling over. I was so wrecked at this point, so wrecked. But it was over, I was relieved, I was gone. Four months work, another one ticked off, now get me my medal.

I am sharing these two images as I think it is important to recognise the range of emotions which a marathon puts you through. From the ecstatic to the demonic. From elation to exhaustion. And that goes from mile one mile to mile twenty six. It is a true test of every part of you. Not just the physical part, but the mental side too. If anything, the mental part is the hardest bit.

“why on earth do it again”

So returning to my question, why on earth do it again, and why so soon after the race. In truth, after running three autumn marathons since 2020 – virtual Dublin, Manchester and now Venice – I really could not face another summer training block. I am not a warm weather runner and really struggle in the heat. While I benefit from cooling temperatures as the training wears on, the prospect of more long distance running through July, August of next year was not something I wanted to do. But I still wanted to do a marathon next year.

That then moves the focus to Spring races, and then it becomes about choice. There are many races, both in the UK and elsewhere, so it is about picking one which appeals, and also one that is easy to get in. While many people will try to get into some of the big marathons – London, Berlin, New York etc – the demand for entries is so great that to do so, you have to enter through a public ballot (or through a charity place or get a great time and get guaranteed entry through a “good for age” ranking). Virtually all other races, you can just enter, pay your money, ship up and race.

Here we go again

That is what I have chosen to do. I have entered the marathon in Rotterdam in the Netherlands, which will take place on Sunday, April 16 next year, almost exactly five months away. Why this race? Well with a date in April, it means I can give my body a bit of a break (once I get next week’s half marathon in Falkirk out of the way) through the course of December, and then start my marathon training plan in early January. I have not yet decided to do a fourteen week or twelve week block for this race, that is something to consider a bit later.

This does not mean I will not be running through December of course, but what I will not be doing are the extra midweek runs or the long weekend runs which so characterise the marathon training programme. I will stick to running with my JogScotland group during the week and then my usual weekend social runs with friends, like the 10k I ran with my friend Maxine this morning, to keep things ticking along.

Lovely run with Maxine

The focus for the next week is to rest up a little bit and then get through the Falkirk Half marathon next weekend. Though I grew up in Falkirk, I have never actually done a race there, so it will be a really great experience to run on familiar territory, though looking at the course, it also looks like I will be running in places where I have never run before, which is always exciting.

And then a bit of a reset. I feel I have recovered well from the rigours of Venice, but I also need to appreciate the need to truly let my body recover, given that I have been running solidly really since the early part of July this year. But once we get Christmas and New Year out of the way, I will be back at it. As I said earlier, I must be off my head…..

Next in line

You run the big race you have spent months training for. You complete your main goal for the year. You achieve what you set out to achieve. And then? Well then, there can be a big gaping hole where you left all of your ambitions.

It is not particularly unusual to have some kind of “post-race blues” once you have done a race, even if it is not the only race you plan to do. So much goes into the build up for the event that it is perhaps not surprising that there is almost a sense of loss once it is over. That thing that gave your running focus for weeks or even months in advance is suddenly no longer there, and while there is the joy and satisfaction of knowing that the race is done, the medal is bagged and the t-shirt is safely in the drawer, it can be difficult to find motivation to get back running again once the job is done.

“ease off the gas”

After completing the Venice Marathon I had always planned to take at least a week off from running. The cumulative effort of doing a long distance event puts a large strain on your body, not just the race itself of course, but the hundreds of miles of running which get you to the start line in the best shape possible. Even the greatest marathon runners only run one or perhaps two marathon races per year, such is the importance of rest and recovery as part of their training programme, so it is not unreasonable that us mere mortals should ease off the gas a bit too.

Adding my Venice marathon number to my album of race bibs

After not running for a week – but walking quite a bit while on holiday which I find aids the recovery by keeping the muscles active in a low impact way rather than just resting up and progressively getting stiffer by the minute – I was really ready to run again. Not to do any huge distance or anything like that, but much more for the social aspect of running.

A lot of my training – particularly my longest runs and the majority of my midweek long runs – was done on my own. Nothing wrong with that, in fact, in many ways I think running long distances on your own is a great mental test so is good preparation for a race itself. But having spent so much of my time solo I was really keen to get back out with the friends with whom I usually run at the weekend.

“it is about… friendships”

It had been so long since I had gone for a nice leisurely run with a few friends around Aberdeen beach and it was such a pleasure to be back out with them once more. Running for me is much more than the races and the medals (though they are important to me, no doubt). It is about the friendships which I have been fortunate to make, the times when we have been out on a run, enjoying each others company, chatting about the things which are going on in our lives, being out in the fresh air. These are the things which are truly significant about running. It is not all about smashing it, about pushing yourself, about straining every sinew, about going for it, about always trying to outdo what you did before. It is about enjoying yourself, and being able to do that in the company of others.

So nice to be back out with friends once more

The other aspect of getting back out running – I find – is that it is also good to have another target, once the big race is done. Now this target does not have to be a race, it could be just to go out for some social running, or to get back to parkrun, or to return to running with your club or group, but I certainly thing I need to have some kind of target to motivate me to continue my running journey.

My next target is the Falkirk Half Marathon in two weeks. Now you may think that after running a marathon that a half would be a total breeze, but in my experience, returning to distance running can be a challenge. After one of my first marathons, I vividly recall going out for a nine mile run – and feeling like I was going to pass out after about seven miles!! In marathon terms, a nine mile run is barely worth getting out of bed for, but after a break and a bit of relaxation, that long distance fitness can feel like it just drops away very quickly. I do think a lot of that is in my head, but it is one of the reasons why this weekend I chose to do a ten mile run with friends. This was just to prove to myself that I still have it in me, a couple of weeks out from the actual race.

Marathon medal number five added to the collection

You might think that that is a bit daft, that of course I could run ten miles, but there is something psychological about just proving that you can do it, just to get a bit of a confidence boost about being capable once more. I have also done a couple of 10ks this week with my JogScotland group which have gone well and I feel totally fine after the exertions of Venice.

One thing which I am glad to be having a break from is that extra midweek run which I was doing. I really found them challenging to do – not so much physically, but more mentally – and each time I had to do one I felt like I was dragging myself out of the house to get it done. Just not having to do that every week has been such a joy, that has felt like a boost in itself. Never mind the motivation of a run, this is the motivation coming from not running!!

With weather like this, running with friends is such a pleasure

This simply emphasises the importance of a bit of rest, something which I still think is undervalued when it comes to running. Now this is no criticism of those who run every day – great work, go for it – but it is a reflection of who I am as a runner. I need a break. I cannot constantly get myself out there unless I feel there is some respite from it all. I looked forward to my rest days throughout my marathon training, and now, adding in another day without running is helping me recover better and therefore be better prepared for this next event.

I have allowed myself to look a bit towards next year, and perhaps another marathon. This is unusual for me. Normally when I finish a marathon the last thing I want to consider is putting myself through it once again, but for some reason this time it is different. I have quickly put the disappointment of not getting into London behind me – though I have entered some competitions to win a place – and have definitely progressed into looking at a spring marathon for 2023. But first, let’s get Falkirk out of the way. And then use December for even more rest before the build up can perhaps begin again.