Ok…so here is the closure:

I wake up on marathon morning to piercing blue skies and not much sign of a breeze and think ‘Come on cloud, you know you want to make an appearance today!’ As I leave my flat at 7.15 am it’s already quite warm in the sun and I walk along trying to keep my breakfast down whilst trying to convince myself that my leg doesn’t hurt at all - in reality it didn’t feel too good but today was the day and I just had to get throught it. When I arrived at my start I slathered myself in suncream, sprayed my calfs with this ‘no-pain’ stuff and took some painkillers. At 9.15 I walk to my starting pen and think how hot it is already. I’m standing next to a couple of girls from ‘up-north’ who are really worried about the heat. Understandable really as up there they only get about 1 day of warm sunshine a year!

The gun goes off and it takes me about 2mins 40 to get to the start. I was expecting my first mile to be around 10/11 mins because of the crowds but I take just 8.40 which I’m really pleased with - my target pace for sub 3.45 was 8.34 per mile and I’m still hoping for a miracle. As I’m running I’m aware of no pain (my god it works!!) in my calfs but some tightness in my quads - I never ever get tight quads so I was a bit confused / annoyed by this. I run my 10k in 51 mins - well on track for sub 3.45. I’m starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, I could do a decent time. I do my half in 1.51 and I’m still on track. After that things started to get interesting - the heat started to have an effect (as it had with most people - I saw 2 elite athletes passing me when they had done 21 miles and one was walking and the other was pulling out!) and my quads were causing a lot of pain. I got to 14 miles in 2 hours and realised that I could ‘snail-it’ in 10 minute miles and still do a 4 hour marathon. So I keep running, albeit slowly at times, and I don’t let myself stop because I know if I stop just once then there was no way I would come in under 4. As I get to 22 miles, I’ve got 42 mins to crawl the last 4.2 miles and I was so determined. I get to 200m from the finish and I manage a sprint finish (I say ‘sprint’ but it was probably just a fast jog!) and come in at 3.57! I get through the finish and burst into tears. What a girl….

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The week of April 16-22 didn’t quite work out as well as I’d hoped. The schedule called for a 2-mile on Monday, a 7-mile tempo run on Wednesday, and an 18-mile long run on Saturday. I ended up sick enough for the first few days of the week that I actually missed two days of work. I think the last time I missed more than one day of work/school in a row due to illness was when I had appendicitis in 1991. I wasn’t well enough to do the 2 or 7, so I looked to the 18 with some trepidation.

On Saturday the 21st, Joy and I set out to do 9 miles out, then back. This would take us pretty much from our house almost to Carthage College and back, running along the shore of Lake Michigan. The weather was absolutely beautiful with a nice breeze off the lake. My times were pretty slow, but it was very nice running and chatting with Joy (she was on the bike). I always like those first few nice weekends around here because the parks are jammed with families enjoying the day. Lots of kites, kids playing, and other runners. As a side note, I always acknowledge other runners when I’m out. A little wave and breathless “hey” is like the secret handshake of our exclusive club. And if you don’t say “hi” back, well, you’re a jerk.

Almost immediately after the turnaround point, the pain started. I got this twinge in my left knee that over the next couple miles spread to my hip and ankle, until it was an all-leg-encompassing hurt by mile 11. I knew I was in trouble. Around mile 13, I was expecting to collapse with every step. I finally called it quits at mile 14. We were only about a half mile from home (the course looped south for two miles, then back up to home). I was done. I hobbled the rest of the way home.

Once home, I had a “nice” cold bath. Instead of trying to come up with enough ice to cover my legs, I now spend ten minutes after each long run in a tub of cold cold water. It sucks, seriously, but the benefits have been instantly noticeable. My recovery time has gone from 2-3 days to overnight.

So I failed at the 18-miler. I was terribly disappointed. But on to the next week. (Total this week: 14 miles)

April 23 to 29: Monday, as usual, was 2 miles. No problems there, just felt a bit stiff. On Wednesday, I decided to change my speed workout to an 8-mile tempo so that I wouldn’t overstress my knee. The weather was chilly, windy, and it started raining two miles in. I was amazed - the lousy weather actually invigorated me. Rain is a challenge I can handle. My total time was 1:08:21, with a happy average of 8:32. The individual miles were 8:41, 8:17, 8:15, 9:04 (it’s uphill), 8:32, 8:33, 8:43, and 8:12. This run was exactly what I needed after Saturday’s failure.

On the 28th, I had a 20-miler on the schedule (see the map). I took basically the same course as the week before, up and along the lakefront. This time, obviously, I had to go an additional mile north. I started about 45 minutes before Joy got home from work so she could meet me part way in. It was another lovely day.

My times for the first four miles were on target, 8:40, 8:32, 8:55, and 8:23, but I lost a little ground in mile five trying to get some water at Southport Beach House (the damn drinking fountain was off), so that one was 9:20. By this time, I was really aching for water and regretting that I had left without my support team (Joy). Miles 6 and 7 crept by at 9:39 and 9:57, and then, like a water bearing-angel, Joy arrived. Hooray!

However, at this point, my times were already starting to slip. The next three miles to the turnaround point were 9:42, 9:32, and 10:18. I started losing time from slowing to a walk to hydrate, so I wasn’t too unhappy.

Once we turned, I forced down a Gu pack and some more water, then pushed on. The wind was at my back now, so I lost some of it’s cooling effects. Off came the shirt (and my sexy black chafe-protecting electrical tape nipple-cover X’s). I wasn’t really feeling any real pain, but I definitely was starting to run low on energy. The next few miles, up to 16 (10:47, 9:09, 10:28, 9:23, 10:12, 11:47) went okay. I didn’t fall down, throw up, or have anything break.

Part way through mile 17 (10:46) however, my right quadricep right by my knee started to seize up. I have never felt anything like it before. It’s like my leg wanted to lock in a bent position. I tried to stretch it by pulling my right foot up behind me, and my calf immediately began to cramp. What the hell was going on? I ended up walking for a block or three to loosen it up, and then I was able to continue. Miles 18 and 19 (10:14, 12:52,) were punctuated by a couple walks and a LOT of achiness. I decided that I really needed to run the entirety of the last mile.

Things were going fine for the first quarter or so, and then it happened. My lower quads on BOTH legs began to seize. I pushed on, cursing them. However, less than half a mile from home, I couldn’t continue. I hobbled, then walked for another couple blocks until the tightness went away. I had .4 miles left, and the pain was gone. I gave it my all and burned it in coming home (11:43). I even managed to clip a fence turning a corner. One of my neighbors cheered me as she saw me coming arounfd the corner. I managed to weakly raise my arms in victory.

I did it. I’m not totally happy with the 10:01 average or the total time of 3:20:29, but I did it. Total miles this week: 30.

And if you’d like, you can check out what it’s like to relax in a nice cold bath. I wouldn’t watch it at work, but I *am* wearing shorts, so it’s perfectly safe.

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I have to admit that I have been a bit stressed this week, well, maybe more than a bit. Tomorrow is the London marathon and every morning when I arrived at work last week I checked the 5 day weather forecast hoping that it would show a nice white cloud with no sunshine, no rain and a temperature of about 15/16 degrees C. As the week went on the clouds came and went and the temperature for Sunday gradually rose, so now it’s meant to be glorious sunshine and 24 degrees. That’s just great! So last night we went round to a friends flat for dinner. My friend is also running the marathon - not with me cause she’s practically an elite athlete and is aiming for a sub 3 hour marathon - and we’ve both been stressing together this week at work. When we got there she said ‘I’m having half a glass of champagne so you might as well too. It will help you relax and get a better nights sleep.” I’m not one to turn down champagne so I thought why not?! So 2 or 3 glasses later I’m a little bit tipsy and I finally roll into bed at 1.30 this morning. Hmmmm…maybe not the best pre-marathon preparation ever.

I did have a thought yesterday about whether I should go out and get myself a fairy costume and run in fancy dress - at least that way I have an excuse for running a rubbish time. But no, I am full of hope that somehow, miraculously, my injuries will disappear (or at least not hinder me too much) and I won’t hit the ‘wall’ so I’m going to give it everything I possibly can.

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So, today in London, it feels like it’s about 35 degrees C. It’s probably not, but firstly I’m Scottish and therefore completely not used to hot weather like this and, secondly, I do have a tendency to be a bit on the dramatic side…apparently. So when I exclaim to everyone within 50m of me that ‘I’m absolutely boiling!’ I should probably say that I’m a little on the warm side; but then again that wouldn’t quite convey the extent of my discomfort. 

The (hot) weather wouldn’t be such a problem if I didn’t have to run the London marathon next Sunday. The thought of running it in sunny warm weather is enough to make me feel a bit sick - if it’s hot on the day, will I pass out?? How do I know how much water to take on? I mean, you can take on too much, can’t you? Apparently people have collapsed from drinking too much on the way round the 26.2 miles. Another thing for me to worry about on the day - great! 

I’m at the point that I just want to do it now. My training was going ok and I was on track for a sub 3.45 marathon when injury struck. So for the past 6/7 weeks I’ve been running intermittently and doing spinning classes like my life (or maybe just my marathon time) depends on it. I thought at first I’d find spinning really boring but I’ve actually got into it (had to really!) and apparently I now need to get serious and get myself some ‘cleets’ so I can work my hamstrings and glutes more when I’m on the bike. And, of course, the idea of firmer glutes is something every girl wants so I’ll be running to the nearest shop as soon as I can! If the idea of firmer glutes wasn’t quite enough to keep me going back for more then the nice Australian teacher certainly is! As the very appropriate song ‘Let’s get physical’ plays on the system I start to imagine that he is winking at me and then has to come across to ‘adjust my saddle’. I’m quickly returned back to reality when I feel a drop of sweat run down my forehead and into my eye and I realise that spinning is one place in the gym where you don’t attract other people: my makeup, that I forgot to remove pre-class, is rolling down my face along with all the beads of sweat, my hair is stuck like glue to my head and neck and, probably the best bit is, I resemble something like a beetroot. Nice! 

Anyway, by this point you’re probably thinking: who is this crazy Scottish Londoner? So I’ll shut up now….but I do have one request: please pray for some cooler weather for me (and the other 40,000 runners) on Sunday! Oh and it would be great if it was dry too.

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Squealing tires: never something you want to hear as you’re about to step into an intersection. Luckily, in this case, I was still about ten strides away when the white low rider pickup raced around the corner from Sheridan onto 80th Street. “Jerk,” I muttered to myself before I looked down again at the sidewalk to watch for obstacles. My head snapped back up as I heard yet another set of tires taking the corner at speed - a squad car. “Oh hell yes,” I thought, watching the car speed after the pickup.

The driver of an SUV waiting at the light yelled, “Hell yeah! Get that crack dealer!” As I passed them in the crosswalk, I could hear 2 or 3 other guys in the truck cheering. One yelled “GO TREMPER” which totally puzzled me at first. Tremper is the high school for this part of town, and my shirt happened to be the same blue as the Trojan mascot. I couldn’t stop myself from yelling back, “Sorry, Bradford!” Bradford being the north side rival high school that Joy and I went to. “Whatever, it’s all good, whoo!” was the response.

Then I had a total mind flip as a realized that these guys had mistaken me for a high school student. My ten year reunion is this June, and I still can’t pass muster for an alomst-30-year-old in the general public. I thought about this as I ran on; how does 27-year-old me compare to 17-year-old me? Most of the overly philosophical ideas slipped out of my head faster than the sidewalk slipped under my feet, and that was what I focused on.

I ran track and cross country in high school. I wasn’t particularly exceptional at either, but I thought of myself as pretty athletic. For the last year and a half I’ve been training for the eventual BIG RACE and all this time I’ve been comparing myself to what I could do in 1996. Back then I could run a 5K in 19:03. Last fall, I felt a small sense of accomplishment when I ran it in 19:31. But tonight I realized something. There would be no competition between the two Eds. Sure, high school Ed might finish a short race a minute faster, but today Ed would dominate in anything more than three and a half miles.

I was so undisciplined then. If the weather was rainy, or cold, or hot, or no one was watching, my friends and I would run just out of view and then go to someone’s house, or go goof off in the woods. These days, it has to be colder than 15 degrees Farenheit (regardless of wind chill), or raining *and* more than a five mile run. I’m upset when I have to miss a run (though occasionally I relish the small injuries that force a recovery day).

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