The Iceberg

I recently read this blog from one of my favourite triathletes Catriona Morrison.  (http://www.catmorrison.com) It struck a real chord with me, especially after spending the day helping (checkpoint food testing) at the Winter 100. Winners, losers, death marchers, everyone is in the same boat when push comes to shove. Ultra running is a true testament to character strength, there is no hiding from the real you at mile 75 as you bare your soul to the trail, leaving a little part of you at every race when you dig into your inner resolve.

What we see in life of people and people's performances is really just the tip of the iceberg. Underneath the water, where no one sees and only you know, is where the work is done. Your base, your support, your breadth of confidence, this is what makes up you performance, not the tip everyone can see. The tip is merely the icing on the cake and should never be used to rate how you value your work and belief in yourself.

For some this season their races will have all gone well, their PBs improved, their confidence grown and their twitter followers doubled, their icebergs will be impressive. For others their seasons won't have gone to plan, their races been disappointing, not reflecting their hard work, or thier body plagued with injury or illness, leaving them frustrated and with nothing to show for all their hard work. I know how it feels to be both .I started this year so well with a record breaking run at Country to Capital, topped up with another course record and win at SDW 50, then a joint first and 7th in the world at Wings for Life and a 50km win at the Weald Challenge...my iceberg was tall and strong, but underneath the water things weren't what they should have been. From March I was running in pain, the cracks were beginning to show in my base and slowly they got bigger and bigger until there was nothing left to hold me up and I came crashing down. I had let my running become bigger than myself. I had believed my running to be a judge as to who I was. When it was taken away, I realised that I had done nothing to support this running habit, I had nothing else to show for my hard work apart from trophies and t shirts. Running had not given me real confidence or belief in myself, instead as my body said 'woah there slow down girlfriend,' my mind had fought against it, totally believing that if I didn't keep running the world may possibly end.

Without an iceberg the last couple of months I have had nothing to show for my efforts. No wonderful feelings of winning races, training runs with Paul and Rick or filling out my training log. Instead I have had to go solo, build myself up slowly, brick by brick. In the end, I have learnt, no one can help you overcome injury, but yourself and that relentless determination you used to push yourself in training and races. If you want to compete in running and like me you want to compete for years, not just be a flash in the pan for a couple of seasons, you must make sure you heal the cracks before ploughing on. Your running must not be all about the good stuff, the glittering iceberg that shines so bright and everyone wants to see and be part of. Your running must be bigger than that. It must come from a base so strong, a belief in your ability and a foundation of strength and solid movement. There will be cracks, there will be storms, but if you can weather the rough, just imagine how good it will be on a beautiful day.

It may take me a while to get back to where I was, but without a doubt next year, the next decade I will be a runner again. I will never take for granted again moving through the fields at dawn. I know I will moan that I am tired, that I can't be bothered, but I know that putting on my trainers and heading out the door will never feel quite the same. Underneath my running I am a different person, I am me with strength, with belief. I know me better than I thought I did. So come on. Check your foundations. Check your strength. Only you know how hard you work, make it count and belief in yourself. Bad races, seasons come and go, but you, well you, you last a lifetime.

Pressing Restart

At the beginning of the year I flew around the Country to Capital course, I was in great shape, not super fit, but really good, strong winter fitness, I hadn't run over 60 miles in training, clocked a couple of 20 mile long runs in the mud, but mostly had been doing lots of steady runs with some short intervals thrown in. I felt that this was going to be my year and was so pumped at all the races I had planned. And then slowly this pesky injury creeped up on me, taking over my normal life, then my running life and it has now completely taken over every waking moment of my day.

Last week, after finally getting back into some running, building my mileage up from 1.5 mile jogs to a couple of pretty decent grass reps session and I was feeling OK. The foot wasn't pain free, but it wasn't hurting like before just aching and a bit stiff....then BAM, I woke up and couldnt walk. The pain was so bad it hurt sitting down, I had been hiding this from my husband as I didn't want him to be cross or disappointed and in truth I had been hiding the pain from myself. Getting so used to the fact that I was always running in pain, but this was exhausting. I am so drained from juggling clients, kids, life and simultaneously trying to force my body into shape because I am so desperate to race.

This week I finally asked myself why? Why am I doing this? How long am I going to go on pretending this is all ok that I can manage this all until I crack. The foot needs your attention, it doesn't need to be swam, biked, strengthened into submission. It needs rest, sofa time and a bit of listening to. Stop slamming the door on what you know is the truth and listen to yourself. Jump off this merry go round you have got stuck on, trying to hold onto fitness, trying to get fit for a race, trying, anything to be back to how you were. Because you are never going to be that athlete again. You are never going to be the athlete who had never had an injury, who bounced back from having two kids and ran ultras whilst stopping to feed the babies half way through. Who didn't need to do strength work, stretch, could run and run with barely a niggle. Life is different now and its time to adapt. Stop and Listen.

So this is what I have told myself. Start to become the athlete you are going to be next year Now. The athlete who has hit rock bottom, who without running has felt an irrational sense of loss and identity. Stop letting the person I was self destruct the person I can become. There is no going back I need to restart somewhere different and be someone different.

This someone different needs to start by listening and learning. Being patient and most of all being kind to myself. Instead of seeing this injury as a sign of weakness that requires me to punish my body, I must see it as a sign that my body needs a little time to heal. It doesn't need to be pushed in other directions, forced into submission. It needs a little bit of nurturing, it needs me to stop and let it refresh all by itself.

I have talked before about believing in myself, but somewhere in the last few months I have lost that belief, convincing myself that without my running I am worth nothing, merely a cleaning, cooking, clearing up machine to two very demanding children. Without races and competition to reinforce this believe I have somehow got swallowed up in the day to day mundaneness of life at home and lost my identity as a person. Believing that without my value as a runner I have no place in life. The desperation to get back out there competing has completely overtaken the sensible part of my head telling me that the world will not stop if I can't go jogging round the fields. I had totally underestimated and misunderstood that the mental side of injury in someways is way more powerful, painful and destructive than the actual physical damage you have inflicted on your body.
The same mental toughness that we find out on the trails, that pushes us to limits that most normal people will never achieve is capable of allowing us to drive ourselves into holes and then keep on digging because we don't let the sensible side of our brain pipe up, if it did we wouldn't do what we do.

So mentally I am forcing myself to heal. I am forcing myself to face life with NO exercise whatsoever for the next couple of weeks. And you know what? The world still goes on. I still wake up every morning, the kids still love me just as much, the husband still asks me a 100 times where something is before he looks, life just carries on. Really who cares if I am running? Only me. My kids don't want me sad, limping and spending my entire time on google trying to diagnose my injury. They want a Mum who is fit and healthy and happy. So I am pressing restart on 2014, starting to get ready for 2015 instead. Beginning to create the new athlete I am going to be. Yes stronger, but mentally so much tougher. The ability to suffer has never left me, but the desire to achieve which I know sometimes faltered will never leave me now.

So when I see you, please don't tell me I will come back stronger, that rest is the thing I need and that all the best athletes carry injury at some point. I will want to punch you in the face. Please don't ask me how my foot is or whether I am running. Instead I  want to hear all about your running adventures, I want to hear how you smashed out your hill session. I want to hear how you ran through the dawn and into the dusk. I want to hear how you have found a new trail for us to run on, that you have races planned and goals to achieve. I want to know that the running world is out there, waiting for me whenever I am ready, just let me get set and I will be there again, pinning on that number, kissing the kids goodbye and getting ready to fly.

Believing in your Belief

On me bike in the playroom as you do

Tough, tough, tough few weeks in the Sutton household. Morale has teetered on low to dangerously low. Teeth have been gritted and words spoken in frustration that weren't needed. The smell of a grubby gym, ingrained sweat and blisters on my hands are all signs of a runner who has nothing to do,  but repeat endless strength work. Very soon if I cant get out of the gym I may actually find myself wearing a lycra one piece and turning up to body pump with Rick Ashton.

I  have made peace with my inability to run at the moment. In fact when I do try to do a few steps of jogging it feels quite alien to me. The ability to run long distances and run fast seems a mile a way from where I am now. This seems to be the minds way of coping with, what in my head, is a sort of bereavement. Denial of the injury at first, guilt, anger and eventually facing the fact that the one thing you really love doing you cant do. My mind has now taken the running me to the back of my conscious , occasionally to be painfully touched, but then pushed back again. So I have been focusing on what I CAN do. Gym challenges have taken over my training time.

 Do you know how much fun you can have doing endless squats, calf raises and single leg balances in an empty school gym all by yourself? Well you can! I am a person who is totally motivated by competition. So I have driven myself through this period setting myself challenges, falling over backwards trying to lift weights I shouldn't, doing press ups till I face plant and triceps dips till I fall through the stack. Seeing a stronger body emerge from what was really a very weak shell has been more satisfying than I could ever have imagined. 2 babies in 2 years left me chronically weak and this injury was only a matter of time happening. You cannot build a house on dodgy foundations. Too many people get injured and dont find the real root of their problem. Many runners tell me they have 'no time' for strength and conditioning work either they dont believe in it or miles are more important than muscles. Unless you are freakishly lucky you will get injured in your running career. I am absolutely certain that adding some core conditioning work into a programme  will save yourself heaps of heart ache and it will also very quickly highlight your weaknesses.

Gym bunny

Hitting a rehab programme hard takes some dedication, life can too easily get in the way and getting out the door to get to the gym is not easy when you have a troop of mini dwarfs following you everywhere, two of which insist on peeing and pooing everywhere and keeping you up half the night. But it is this dedication I know which will make me into the runner I want to be. I am sure once I am running again  I will gain my fitness back quicker by providing my heart and lungs with the soundest structure I can. Well this is what I have to tell myself. That all these hours of lonely work are worth something, that my dedication to this mini crusade will pay off, that one day I will be running again and these rather bleak days will be a thing of the past. You have to have faith like all things in life with the path you choose, be it smooth running or rather bumpy and that is half the battle in any challenge-keeping the faith.

So my mantra of 'belief' which I have used so powerfully over the past few years I have now employed in a new phase of my life. When I first had kids, I HAD to believe that the sleepless nights, the sore boobs, the saggy belly and endless nappy changes would end and they did. When I married my husband I had to believe that what we felt for each other was the real deal and this person was the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life and he is. And so every time I toe a start line I have to belief that my body can do this. If you dont belief in yourself and the path you choose  it will be too easy to listen to those that 'cant' rather than those that 'do.'  So through this injury I have learnt not to listen to the negativity, remove those around you, who pull the 'pity' face when they see you and instead surround yourself with the Paul Navesey's of this world who can find joy at the bottom of a jar of a nutella (it means you get to start a new jar! Simple things). To believe that you will be healed and the joy you find in both life and running will be back sparkling and new again. 

So keeping the faith I am. Faith in my body and in my mind. Storing up every ounce of sweat, grunt, last rep in the gym till the minute I toe the start line again. And in the meantime I am enjoying spending more time at home, appreciating the smiles of my children, the early morning chats over tea with my husband and taking our new addition to 'puppy school.' There is always joy and faith to be found in life, it sometimes just takes a little time and belief to appear. 

The Wait

A snapshot of a new addition to our family!

I cried in the doctors surgery last week. Frustrated that after 4 weeks of limping around I am still yet to have any proper diagnosis of my injury. I am very lucky to have some financial support so have been able to fund some physio work, but after fainting when she tried to manipulate my foot the physio did the right thing and said I think you need a scan and an x ray now. I have seen three physios in the past month, each one prescribing something different, everyone has their own opinion and ideas. So I went to the doctor to get a GP referral letter for an MRI scan. How long will this take I ask? 6-8 weeks she said. But I can't carry on like this for another 2 months! I need to move for my job, I have two children under 3. I am a serious runner which is also partly my livelihood and I am in pain 24/7. I am having to get up at night to ice it or take pain killers. I am worried I am doing myself long term damage. Yes she replied, continuing to type in her computer, that's tough. I left in tears. This seemed so unfair here I am an athlete, a personal trainer, a mum, I spend everyday helping cut costs for the NHS by encouraging people to bring activity into their daily lives and no one will help me!

The last month has been so hard knowing my fitness has been creeping away, missing that feeling of running, moving, seeing the summer season and the harvest on late evening runs and  misty fresh mornings,with the promise of a glorious day ahead. No running means very little break from the kids, there are on me and at me from dawn to dusk. Some days I just want to hide behind the sofa. But slowly and almost noticeably I have come to turns with no running, and I think this is the first stage of healing. I can't run and I won't run till I can walk around for at least 10 days pain free.And so I realised as I walked out of doctors surgery nobody is going to heal this injury apart from me.

There is no quick fix, no wonder physio or amazing pill to take. I need time, patience and rest to get moving again.

So I have thrown myself at other projects that always get pushed aside when running takes over my being. I have finally got my web page up and running. (www.edwinasutton.com). I am building my personal training client base and have about 16 online athletes, who I love coaching, though am getting a little bitter that some are now faster than me! I am spending more time with the kids, not exhausted, but able to be a little more patient, a little more fun and a little more understanding to their needs. I have been riding my bike and swimming as much as I can plus spending the time I would be running in the gym, working on what was my epic weakness my core. After two babies in close succession I suffered from diastasis rectus, separated abdominals. At its worst I could almost fit a fist straight through the separation. I knew I was running on borrowed time with a weak core, but wanted to spend all my time getting the miles and quality sessions done not doing gym work and I am absolutely sure that is a large part of my injury. 

So, I have embraced my 'kids free' time in the gym. Not being able to put much weight through my foot means adapting and adopting some strange exercise techniques, but in a strange, cave woman sort of way I am starting to enjoy seeing the strength appear. Seeing a strong foundation being built, knowing this will half the time it takes me to get back to running fitness.

So whilst other things have been occupying my time I have found that I can live without running. As long as I get my shell sweating at least once a day I can feel 'exercised' and less like kicking the wall in. Running is an obsession of mine, but in order for me to come back and stay injury free I can see I mustn't let the mental side dictate what is sensible and reasonable to demand of my body. I can now see I don't need to run miles and miles to be strong,  actually by cutting out the running I have become stronger. Now for the tricky next few weeks whilst the injury plays less and less on my mind and I start to feel the itch to run again. But I wont. Who wants to talk to  a moaning injured runner, its so boring and its too tough on my poor husband who has to witness my epic tantrums and finally its no good for business no one wants to hire a limping, grumpy personal trainer.

Morale of this tale of woe so far is, listen to your body, feel a niggle, back off, rest, go to the gym, jump on your bike, lie on the sofa. Don't take it out on your loved ones when you are injured, they are your crew and your support without them you wont be running again they are the ones you need most now embrace the rest and the time with family, come back with new dreams, a fresh approach and maybe even a little idea of a new distance to tackle!

The Obstacle

Hello my name is Eddie, I'm a runner and I'm injured. I have finally faced the fact that finishing everyday hobbling, running in constant pain and eating painkillers in order to run is not healthy and not sustainable in the long run. 

From the middle of March, I have noted in my training plan- foot hurts. I carry on training, couple of days later, foot hurts more. And from then on every single session, the foot is mentioned. I had 2 weeks off before SDW 50 and ran that in pain, but it was manageable pain. After that I took another week off, got back to running, it was sore, but I wanted to get training again. I raced Wings for Life on road, it hurt, but I carried on. After Wings for Life I had an easy week, then ramped up training again. Holding high mileage week in week  out, 3 quality sessions, training like a pro, but running constantly in pain and not running to my potential because every step had to be managed. Why didn't I stop? So easy to say now. Why didn't I just stop the moment I felt the first twinge. Because part of what makes me a gritty and determined runner also makes me a stubborn and single minded athlete. I can take high levels pain, I can take high levels of pain for hours on end. I almost enjoy the painful part of racing and training, I live for the lactate burn....and so I don't accept my body being injured. I cannot accept that it is showing signs that I am over training, overstretching it.  I am completely focused on being the best runner I can be, plus working, looking after the kids, the house, I do not have time to rest and face the truth that this is going to end in tears. I push and I push until I crack. 

Sad hobbit foot

On my second recce weekend at the Lake District, having made it through one with the foot strapped, but feeling every flex of the foot over the rocks, I go over on my ankle and almost feel the plantar fascia give one big sigh and finally just give up on me. The pain is now at a new limit. We get round the course, but my ankle is pretty swollen and descending brings tears to my eyes. I refuse to acknowledge it. Don't even look at my foot, for fear of what I see, I set out the next day to cover the last 16 miles and I cant even bend the foot. I cant get any flexion off the floor and am grimacing in pain. My husband is concerned. This is real now, I cant hide anymore. I have to stop. I stop. I sit on the floor and weep. Knowing that its my fault. I wanted this so badly I have run myself into the ground. 

I have never been injured. I have never had to cope with the disappointment of missing a large block of training or a big race. I have pushed my body training for triathlons to the absolute limit. But when I was training for Ironman I had rest. I slept. I had lie ins. I had time to stretch, to warm up and cool down well. I had time to listen to my body. My life now has become so hectic, rushing from this to that, a constant background noise of other things needing to be done. My training happens, but it means very limited rest, recovery and down time, vital components of a programme when you are working hard. So in some ways this was a train crash waiting to happen. 

Wonderful service at Profeet,
showing me how to tape my foot
and checking my trainers and gait 

So, 3 weeks no running, after 10 days I tried a jog, felt ok, but not entirely pain free, the next day I tried another jog, I tried to pick the pace up a little bit, felt ok, pick the pace up a little more, just try a mile rep, see if its ok. Felt ok. Try another one. Starting to hurt now, stop now, just do one more, might as well finish the set (you see where this is going). End of the session. Hobble home. Next day, running client at 6am, cant get to clients house because the foot is so sore. Am so angry with myself. Am I learning nothing . I refuse to be one of those athletes who is constantly injured, comes back to training, gets injured again. I am not that person. So I have a self inflicted ban in place now. Not a step of running until I can feel no pain in the foot. Not a step of running until I can go about my daily life without 'feeling' the foot. And when that moment comes I will give myself time to build back into running. Running may rule my life, but it will not dictate my health and happiness anymore, that is my responsibility.

The pain face, Nice.

Many many tears have been shed. Not for the injury really itself, but for the disappointment in myself, why didn't I just rest when I felt the pain? Why didn't I do more rehab work? Why this and why that? Many whys of which I cant answer. But what I can answer is my need to get stronger. The need to improve my functional strength, my resistance to injury and holding form whilst fatigued. I can still do all this. I can swim and bike, I can swim and bike hard. I can match the sessions I would have been doing running. Its fun being back in the pool and on the bike. Its fun training with new people and using different muscle groups. 

This battle is not one which will be rewarded by a trophy, a course record, a flurry of twitter followers, it will be won by a quiet, steely determination. Hours of listening and working with my body, not against. Not punishing it for showing weakness, but working with it, using my inner strength to scaffold a structure of formidable mental and physical strength. Or as my husband says, its just a foot injury, get over yourself and come back stronger! 

Picture by James Eric Elson

So I am using every ounce of my positive self talk to remain optimistic. I am working harder than ever in the gym. I am using the time to make sure I rest a little more, I am trying to smile when inside I am crying a little, I am trying to not let my life revolve around my foot. I am more than that. I will not spend another 4 months in pain ever again. I will show my foot who is boss. I will have abs of steel that could climb 5,000m by themselves. And then once my body is strong, I will begin to plan again. I will never run the miles I just have without adding in some cross training, without adequate gym work and without listening to when I am tired and need to rest. I think I got a little lost in my running, in my need to achieve and to prove myself, but I'm finding my way out again.

 

The Fear

I am just back from an amazing three days of running with The Centurion Team. I covered 59 miles, climbed a lot, ran down hills a lot, laughed too much, ate even more and spent some real quality time with the amazing Debbie (http://debsonrunning.blogspot.co.uk/) Martin -Consani who I am just in awe of (she carries lipgloss in her running pack whilst smashing apart 100mile races) and Danny Kendall the coolest and fastest GB man in the desert having recently finishing 4th at the MdS. Esteemed company.

The trip  was a chance for the Centurion Team to get together and for those of us who are racing over Lakeland 50 and 100 to recce the course. My idea of heaven, running, friends, tea on tap and hills out the back door. I am very much at the lower tier of the Centurion running pile and still feel that I need to earn my place amongst such athletes. These guys and gal are epic, I spend most of my day to day life cleaning porridge off the floor and making cars out of sofa cushions, sometimes it feels so surreal to have to switch to the part of me that runs till I cant run anymore.

On the Friday James, Paul, Robbie and I ran the 3rd leg of the Bob Graham round. Saturday we ran from Pooley Bridge to Ambleside and by about 2hrs into this run I started panicking. We were running super easy, but my legs were feeling it. I was scared.

In my head, I composed an e mail to James Elson (team manager at Centurion) telling him that I was really sorry, but I was withdrawing from the Lakeland 50.  In my head, I would get to the opening gambit....Hi James, really sorry but I am not going to run in the British Trail Champs because...and that is where I got stuck. Why wasn't I going to run? I have a niggly injury which I can manage. I am getting the miles in. I am coping with the exhaustion of the miles and the kids. What excuse can I use to withdraw from this race? Whats the truth?



'Hi James, really sorry I am not going to run because I am scared. I'm scared of the pain I know I am going to inflict on myself over that course. I'm scared of how every single step is going to be an effort. I am scared of all that climbing, I am even more scared of the descending. In short, I'm scared.'



But on the third day out on the course the fear turned into something else. I began to find my lakes feet a little more. The uphills weren't quite so daunting, the downhills not quite so steep. The hand that had gripped my heart with fear, lessened its grasp and my heart began to beat with fight rather than surrender. I could hear my inner voice echoing off the hills, knowing, just knowing that if I didn't toe that line and smash myself over the course, those surrendering words would live with me. I would have hidden from something I knew had the potential to break me. I had ran with some of the best runners in our sport, they were normal people, but held inner strength that most would never have the courage to call upon. And so, I realised,  its not the course I am scared of, its myself. Its my potential to push myself to the absolute limit. Its my ability to dig deep and then dig even further. Ive been there before, I know I can do it again. And this is exactly what this course needs. The profile may not suit my running completely, but it will suit my mental strength and competitive nature.

From the start of this running adventure I have had to constantly face my fears, coming back from baby one, purely running again not hiding behind a bike split, having another baby again, putting myself back on the start line. A body pretty battered from two babies, fear it wouldn't hold up to long distance running, it holding up. Every race, every session, diminishing that fear, shouting down that voice telling me I couldn't do this, I shouldn't do this.

And so every race, every result the fear isn't getting any smaller, but I  am learning to cope with him.  I am learning to talk to fear, to negotiate and to use my huge doubts to build my inner strength.

When race day comes, when I am up there all alone in the hills, legs burning, heart pumping, calves straining, Ill listen to that fear, Ill let it tell me I cant do this. 'You should be at home with the kids!' I'll show fear the hills, Ill show fear the air, the purity of running over trails and Ill use the fear to make me into the runner that fear does not want me to become.

So I wrote James another a message...it said 'Thanks for a great weekend. I cant wait to smash that course.'

Me and Fear we will do it together.

Wings for Life Run Race Report

http://www.redbull.com/en/stories/1331648995750/thrilling-finale-in-first-wings-for-life-world-run

Funny enough as I go on enough about not drinking water...spot me drinking water!!


"The scale was global, the ambition truly great and the party one to remember, as more than 35,000 people in 32 countries took part in the inaugural Wings for Life World Run in pursuit of a cure for spinal cord injury. " 

Final Global Results: Women’s race
1. Elise Molvik (NOR)/ ran in Norway 54.79km
2. Nathalie Vasseur (FRA) France 51.26
3. Svetlana Shepuleva (MD)/Turkey 48.29
4. Mfunzi Ntombesintu (RSA)/ South Africa 47.57
5. Lea Bäuscher (GER)/Germany 46.23
6. Haley Chura (USA)/USA 45.61
7. Joanna Zakrzewski (GBR)/UK 45.39
8. Edwina Sutton (GBR)/UK 45.38
9. Maria Lundgren (SWE)/Sweden 45.24
10. Daniela Ryf (SUI)/Switzerland 44.44

What a day! I had no idea of the global scale or the magnitude of this run, really until I had finished and friends were texting and calling saying we have been watching you running over the live feed it was so exciting!

I had been invited to this race by Simon Freeman of Freestak (http://www.freestak.com/). I was a little unsure about 'racing' as only a month after SDW50 and I like to have at least 10 days rest and then get back into training slowly after a race and let my family have some mum energy! But as my good buddies Robbie and Paul were going to be running and there was the offer of a hotel room the night before (like a pro, into room at 9pm, asleep by 9.01pm, up at 7.30am. BEST night of sleep for almost 4 years!) I couldn't resist. I replied to Simon that I would run and just see how far I got.

So I had a really solid week of training, 2 big hill sets and lots of good miles, so on Saturday when I volunteered to check the marking along the start of the Thames Path 100 I thought it would be great to stretch my legs out for 7-8 miles. I felt AWFUL, my legs were heavy, I couldnt get even near a 7min mile. Oh dear, this is going to be a disaster tomorrow, but just focus on the hotel room Eddie all will be ok. Paul very kindly drove us round the country whilst we checked the markings at various point of the Thames path and we eventually got to Silverstone around 7pm. Paul and Robbie instantly started channelling their  inner Jenson Button and Mark Webber whilst I gripped the back seat shouting 'I need a wee, Ive had 2 children, please stop swerving!!' We met up with Tracey Dean and Joasia Zakrzewski neither who I have met before, but Tracey is British Ultra Champion and Jo has finished 4th at Comrades (TWICE!) and 4th at the World Trail Championships last year, so illustrious company. We had a meagre buffet, the lady serving refusing to give us more than I would serve my 3 year old and then not allow us pudding as we had had a bowl of soup...I tried not to cry and went back to my room and gorged myself on a Torq energy bar.

The next morning we met up with Simon and Jules who looked after us so well and got us numbers, showed us where to go and took us for 'media' interviews. Us girls were very coy, both Tracey and Jo claiming they werent here to race, which truthfully they werent, I wasnt really, but I wasnt here for a jog either! We had to be at the start 30 mins before the race, it was cold, I suddenly realised there were 900 people behind us, a camera crew and a lot of motorbikes. This 'easy' long run just got serious. 

At 11am with the rest of the world we set off. I felt ok, in fact I felt pretty good. we completed a 5km lap of Silverstone, someone offered me a banana and red bull, I refused and oh how I dreamed of that snack at mile 23...I was running quite comfortably with 'Dennis' a motorbike rider. After 6 miles I asked Dennis if all the roads were closed. Yes he replied, its just you and me I'll look after you! I would have liked to have taken Dennis home. Every so often a camera crew would appear and film me for what felt like hours. A fun experience and I tried to look like a pro, till I had to ask them to go so I could go for a wee. 

The course was very undulating, hills were short, but sharp, but I felt ok. I had set myself a goal of getting to a marathon in 3hrs ish then seeing how I felt. All was fine till after 20km (when they predicted about 90% of the field would drop out) and though the roads were all closed there were no more water stops. It was a hot day. I asked where the next girl was, she is about half a mile behind, has she got a grey top on I asked? Thinking if it was Jo I would slow down and we could run together. Dennis duly went and looked and it was! I was delighted as I hadnt faniced another 15miles plus on my own and I had a feeling Jo could be coerced into running further than she had planned! So I jogged for a little and waited for Jo. Dennis was a bit put out that we were now going to chat the whole way round, but it was so brilliant to run with another girl and one with such a fine pedrigree. She taught me a lot, I quizzed her about her training (full time GP, managed the qualifying marathon time for the Commonwealth Games and had won the Scottish Ultra Championships the weekend before!). Due to the incessant chatting I didnt really notice that we hadnt had any water till I began to feel thirsty, really thirsty. At this point we started to see Robbie jogging ahead (big race next week, Ill only run for 90 mins, yeah, yeah , yeah ) He had covered quite a few decent miles with Paul. Robbie was onto it straight away stealing Dennis's packed lunch, asking everyone watching for water, water , water. He, being THE Robbie Britton, seemed to be able to source nourishment pretty quickly and we were able to quench some thirst and eat some crisps. But I feel the damage had been done, we had got to the marathon, I had covered 95 miles this week and I was done. i would have happily jogged it in from then, but Jo was keen to get the 3rd placed man ahead so we pushed on, with her and Robbie screaming at me to run harder. I have never wanted to punch two people more. But we overtook him and as we did the outriders for the car caught us. 'Its coming!' They were shouting, 1 mile away, ok I can do this, I can run for another mile, its 2km away, WTF?  You just said 1 mile, pleeeeeeease I want water, I want food, I want to lie down. Then we hit a hill. Jo literally became a woman possessed and skipped up it, I could hardly get my legs to bend. I worked super hard on the descent to catch her again and as we rounded the corner, the car, the DJs, the ambulances (yes please) caught us! As you can see from the video, I just wanted to lie in the hedge. Jo could have run on more I am sure.

http://live.wingsforlifeworldrun.com/en/videos

(click on GB link)

We did some super fun interviews and I felt like Paula Radcliffe for about 1 minute, till they all drove off and we were left to crawl into a minibus (not before an emotional goodbye to Dennis), drenched in sweat, exhausted and NO water. Fortunately, again, THE Robbie Britton pulled some water out of nowhere (I think it was the bus drivers lunch this time) and we followed the car to pick up the 2nd place male. After about 30 mins, the bus driver shouted 2nd place male has just been caught. Robbie and I lept out of the bus and embraced the sweatiest, saltiest Paul Navesey I have ever seen. He too was the most dehydrated man near Milton Keynes and we gathered him onto the fun bus and went back to Silverstone.

We met up with Tracey, Julie and Simon all who were super pleased with how far they had run. Julie looked after me so well getting some warm clothes and food. After a while we had the prize giving ceremony and I enjoyed getting over excited and spraying champagne mainly over myself not the boys and then getting paid back with spending the next 24hrs smelling like a brewery.  

Driving home and arriving back to my sleeping babies and a very tired husband felt quite surreal. What an AMAZING experience, to be able to run, far, for the greater good was such a thrill and something I would definitely like to do more of. Red Bull and the Wings for Life charity made Jo and I feel like superstars and we truly felt honoured that they appreciated how hard we had worked! 

Bit of a come down the next morning to be woken up being hit over the head with a car (toy not chaser, my kids arent that strong-yet) and having pancakes demanded at 6am. But thats what makes this part of my running journey so fantastic. I can go out and be the athlete and come home and be the mum. Just plain awesome.

Thanks to Simon, Jules, Jo, Tracey, Paul and Robbie for making the weekend so much fun. I couldnt ask to be in a better team than Centurion. Onwards to Lakeland 50 now. I wonder if Dennis will come and support?