Why am I doing this? Part 2

I try not to moan about my life when people ask "how are you?" because I believe I'm lucky. Like everyone I go through minor (they don't seem it at the time) trials and tribulations but I live comfortably, have a lovely family and friends for which I am very grateful. I've just realised that might sound like I'm erring towards saying I'm religious. I'm not religious at all being a scientist and a confirmed atheist but I do try and be kind and nice to people. It makes me happier as a person to live that way.

My family is a relatively small unit, and my Auntie was always around. She was not my Auntie really, but actually my Dad's cousin (they were like brother and sister) and I suppose there is something about lady relatives / parents close female friends of a certain age that means they are your 'Auntie'. My Auntie despite being a few years older than my Dad, was really cool. Anyone who knows me might argue that I have slightly odd ideas of what "cool" is. Yes she could be a bit of a hypochondriac, a bit fussy but for someone of her years she was more "with it" regarding popular culture than my parents and was great fun to have a conversation with. When I was little she always had cats and dogs which I used to like because we never had either at home and you can't cuddle a goldfish.She was always interested in my running, what I had been up to and where I had been on my travels. The stranger personality traits she had were not really here fault. Just the way she had been brought up really. When my Uncle (another cousin of my Dad's and also a cousin of hers - strange family huh) died she moved in just over the road from my parents, so was around a lot more. When I went on holiday, or at Christmas / Easter etc I always purchased presents and goodies in triplicate.

I've experienced death in my life, thankfully simply through old age and whilst it is upsetting some comfort can be gained from knowing that the person had a good innings and all that, and didn't know much about it. My Uncle died of cancer a few years ago in 2003 which was mercifully quick, but awful nonetheless.

In the late summer of 2011, Auntie complained of stomach pains, but they seemed to be a bit on and off. I was up visiting my parents one weekend and after a long run went to the fridge (as 30-something children who have left home still do) to eye up a nice looking strawberry milkshake inside the fridge door. Before I proceeded to rip the top off - milk is very good for post long run recovery - I was told to leave it as it was part of Aunties shopping. My parents weren't quite sure what was up but believed that she was on a faddy milkshake diet because her clothes had got a bit tight, and in actual fact she had set the tumble dryer too high and was shrinking them in a comedy way. Then one night over the summer she had called out the night doctor who had admitted her in to hospital. How things can change in such a short space of time - a blink of an eye later and it fell in to place. She was drinking milkshakes because food was painful to swallow, after numerous investigative tests we found she had a tumour in the oesophagus, also in the pancreas and beginnings of tumours in the lungs.

My Auntie was obviously upset at being told she was terminally ill, but my poor Dad didn't know what had hit him. In all my years I have never seem him get so upset about something. I regret to say that one morning after a particularly rubbish nights sleep I ended up taking offence to something he said about me getting up late and starting a bit of an argument. It was then I saw just how upset my Dad was... and I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for driving him to a near meltdown but there isn't a lot I can do to change it now apart from showing some restraint in the future and not reacting. It was a shock to see him in that light.

My Auntie remained in hospital for quite some time, being fed by a tube down the nose direct in to the stomach and had a stent inserted near the growing blockage to try and relieve the feeding situation. The doctors had opted not to give her chemotherapy. After the stent they took the tube out and things really seemed to improve. We had a visit where she was practically up and about, happy, smiling and was eating grapes we had brought her. We were optimistic. This was in September. I started thinking we might get her home, and maybe she would still be around for Christmas.

In mid October 2011, I went out to Amsterdam to run the Marathon. I had a lovely little holiday, but was dogged by feeling like I was coming down with a cold the whole time I was out there. I spent the whole flight back on the Monday sneezing my head off. When I got back I got a call out of the blue to say Auntie had taken a turn for the worse and gone in to the Arthur Rank hospice in Cambridge. My immediate reaction was that I should come home but the idea of germ ridden me walking in to a hospice simply wasn't an option, I could do a lot of damage to a lot of very ill people. So I waited and waited, progressively feeling worse and worse as the week went on. I spent the weekend in bed with a box of tissues and some lemsip watching the Great Birmingham run on the telly on Sunday.

That Sunday afternoon she passed away, my parents had been there pretty much to the end. The last few days had been horrible, she had been in a coma I suppose the administration of Morphine and other pain killing drugs is a sort of legal assisted suicide because there comes a point where your body can't tolerate the dose any more. In the short time she was there, the hospice had made a big effort to help her, not only with the practical aspects of medical care, but also putting on activities and doing things that help the patient feel better in themeslves. I was oviously upset at first, then I think we all went in to uber practical mode. I found the funeral very hard, seeing the coffin go past us to follow it to the service it really just did me in. I spent the whole service just standing there with tears streaming down my face. In a sense I'm pleased that the last vision that I had of my Auntie was one of being upbeat and on the mend rather than lying there motionless or in and out of a coma.

 

I think I'll leave that there. The hospice looked after her really well (the same place also looked after my uncle) and ever since then I have wanted to do something for them. I can't deny that the 4 in 4 is a big personal challenge, and this seemed the perfect opportunity to do some fundraising for the cause. Closer to the event and afterwards I'm going to try concentrate on raising more on the money side - at the moment all I seem to do is work and train. Thinking of having a cake sale at work and the running club rather than giving it away for free!

Sadly whilst I've told my parents I'm running 4 marathons in 4 days I haven't actually told them about the fundraising bit. Every time I think about telling them it makes me feel so upset I chicken out. I have a tendency sometimes to chicken out of these sorts of emotional / upsetting things. I think there is going to be a bit of a tearful phonecall after the last Marathon on the Sunday.

So my training has been going well and I will continue to focus on writing about that. (If anyone has bothered to read this far sorry if I've depressed you!). I think it sort of explains where my head is at with regards to doing this challenge.

I've been somewhat shocked  so far by peoples generosity in sponsoring me. It seems people believe in me and that makes me feel so so happy - its a massive boost. Do I believe in myself here? Well I'm starting to actually. The Gobsters training regime has seen me replicate the fatigue of the event by running something like:

Mon -  6 Miles
Tues - 7 or 8 miles either progressive or with some hard miles in the middle
Weds - Rest
Thurs - 10 -ish miles
Fri - 14,15,16 ish miles
Sat - 10-12 miles
Sunday - around 20 miles

(I have obviously built up to this and was still fit from training for the Manchester Marathon in April where I got a PB - 4.02 in an Arctic gale!). I'm really enjoying it despite getting through pairs of trainers rather too quickly, not to mention massive consumption of carbohydrate gels. I have a desire to start swimming again, but that has been put on hold due to the sheer embarassment factor of having a shocking runners tan on my legs - my self confidence doesn't need to see me being laughed out of a public pool. Why mention this... well I have a fairly decent racing bike that I like to get out on when I can and the word IRONMAN keeps popping in and out of my head.....

I've found from some of the training runs that a big hill climb at the end of a 66 mile week can cause pain, but I simply tell myself there is worse pain to have and after all it is just another minute / hour of my life. My recovery has been pretty damn good though, to the point where if I pace it right I will probably be able to run a half decent marathon time without waking up with hurty legs the next day.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/NatalieDellar4in4

Why am I doing this? Part 1

I had intended to update this blog a bit more often - I think I probably will as the event time draws closer and I start the inevitable fretting. Quite frankly I've been out running so much I seem to have very little time for anything. I keep up with current affairs by listening to the radio - I don't have time to watch TV any more (not that I'm massively gutted). Anyway I want a record of how I've felt along the way, so tonight I want to get down something about why I am doing this.

Firstly I suppose a little background around my running career.

I've run since about 2005. I joined a fabulous running club down the road from me, Dudley Ladies. At the time I was 18 stone. Why? Answer: I don't know. At the time I was in comfortable relationship with someone who loved me for how I was, sounds like a cliche but true - all the pounds kept going on after various holidays, parties and festive seasons and not coming off. Anyway it just goes to show that you can be a "runner", and in fact put on weight if you don't eat right. I was a happy 13mm runner running 3 times a week -  2 x 3 milers Tues/Thu + 7-10 miles on a Saturday.

I didn't really join the running club to lose weight, just because I wanted to do something for me, and running was something I had previously enjoyed. I used to be an OUWBC rower - this involved some hardcore nutter exercise levels and we had done a bit of running as land training which I also liked once I'd got past the initial puffed out stage. Anyway, even at that weight and level of difficulty it presented I genuinely loved running. I did every race going. boy do I know what it is like to be last and have those looks of pity. I really do. I ran with a wonderful lady Denise who kept me going when otherwise I may have given up.

The biggest favour my Doctor ever did me in late 2007 was suggesting I "lost a few lbs" because I had turned 30 and risk factors of nasty medical things were higher. I did. Being female I get cagey talking about these weight related subjects but basically by late 2008 I had lost over 5 stone by not eating CRAP. As I'd started to notice the improvement in my running pace in the summer of 2008 I secured a place in the London Marathon 2009. Late 2008 I joined Stourbridge Running Club, purely because they had a different set of club nights to DL and it meant I could run 4 week days a week with a club in the build up to London. I still run with both clubs. Stourbridge really helped me make a big improvement. Running with different speed groups, doing structured speed work and cross country races, which I have actually grown to love. Bizarrely I am the men's captain - I think (hope) it seems to work.

A lot of people say that the training is the hard bit for these events, but I can hand on heart say that I loved the training for my first Marathon and I still do love the training build up today. I love seeing the outdoors, I love seeing all the new sights and smells, I love chatting to my friends as we run. I love the feeling of running along, and pushing myself a bit further or faster than I did the last time. Road, trail, cross country, snow I don't care. I even did a 20 miler on a treadmill one winter when there was sheet ice outside. I don't care if its urban, countryside, sunny or raining (ok don't quote me on that last one!). I have seen and experienced things that I never would have if I didn't run and I think I am a better person for it.

London 2009 went off OK, 4.35 which for a first Marathon I was over the moon with. Yes you can have a good guess at your marathon pace from your training runs and secretly hope for a certain time, but the marathon is a bastard and can cut your delusions of getting that time down to size when you least expect it - but I was happy, I'd had a good run, ran all the way and felt I'd done myself justice. That same year I completed the Longford Marathon (4:11) as a training run for my first Ultra marathon, the JW Ultra. The JW runs from Stratford Upon Avon to Bournville in Birmingham and despite being looked down upon by a lot of Ultra runners as "easy" being "only" 30 miles I clocked 5:23. Looking back I had run Longford too hard and I was knackered at the JW. Still you live and learn and over all it was all an enjoyable experience.

First Marathon - London 2009

After my first Ultra - 30 miles. Note the glazed look and sunburn

The next year, 2010 London again. with my new found experience I trained hard for London, but again looking back I did all of my long runs way way too fast. I did enjoy the training, hey I was getting massive PBs at 30K, 20 miles etc - distances that people don't really give a shit about! It made me feel good at the time but I lacked vision of the bigger picture. Eventually I found the training a bit wearing. Come the Marathon day, after about 10 miles I had nothing left. It was quite possibly more mental tiredness than physical but I ran 4.34. Argh - almost but not quite a step backwards. So much more training than 2009 and one minute quicker! I felt low. It was in the summer of 2010 I lost it a bit and dabbled in the world of Triathlon. I'm a pretty OK swimmer, admittedly shit on the bike and running, well I'm middling to slow really. The little Triathlon I entered in Cheshire I won!!!! To be fair it was the race for life of Triathlons with about 3 other girls who were serious competition, but I like to think I have retired at the top of my game. (....joke :) )

Post my first and only Triathlon

In April 2010 during the build up to London I had run the Half Marathon at Connemara, Galway in Ireland. It was an absolute pig of a course, a very very hilly 13.1 miles. I was inspired to see the Ultra runners who had completed 26.2 miles before hitting the 13.1 I had just run. So yes, you guessed it - before the awful London I had found myself entering Connemara 39.3 for 2011. After the London experience I was a tiny bit scared. Because I needed a holiday (ha!), and with thoughts of what would be good training I also entered a series of running events in Disneyland, Florida in Jan 2011.

It is now that it seems an appropriate time to mention Gobi, my coach. I met him through friends and through the website I log my training on. Gobi is a retired Ultra runner (100km champion) now a nutter cyclist. He is a Welshman with a barely understandable Scottish accent who doesn't take any crap, and if I'm honest he is a little bit scary, but in a good way. I asked him to help me, which he agreed to do in late 2010. First analysis of my training: "YOU RUN EVERYWHERE TOO FAST!!". He has helped me more than he will ever know, and with his guidance I've been able to achieve things I didn't think I could do - and do them quite well for little me (OK it's all relative but it's a fact). It was hard at first to get the pace discipline of doing slower and different paced runs as instructed but I got there, and relatively quickly I think. Anyone who says "I can't run slow" is either a liar or not trying hard enough. The main thing was after London 2010 disaster I got back that love of running thanks to him and I shall be forever grateful. That is all.

My coach - scary or what?

So I rocked up at Disney in 2011 having trained a bit slower and with better aerobic endurance did the 5K at Epcot on the Friday (27:00), the 1/2 Marathon on the Saturday (2:11) and the full Marathon on the Sunday (4:23). Brilliant and the most entertainment I've had running. Surreal and a bit bonkers. I high fived Donald Duck finishing the Marathon, ran through the Magic Castle and almost took out Chip N Dale when I threw away a half empty water bottle. My legs survived remarkably well.

The surreal-ness of the Disney Marathon.

April 2011 was then time for Connemara 39.3, described by someone who had climbed Everest and also run the event as "harder than climbing Everest" (or so we were told by the race director!) I put those training miles in. Again a common mistake would be to run too far in training, the mentality of "I'm doing a 40 miler I need to build up to a 35 mile training run" is nonsense really. In actual fact the longest run I did for this was the Milford 21 (+ lots of other 20 milers) but I had a training plan around these long runs based on the Ultra. When the day came I was lucky to find 2 ladies who were friendly and we all stayed together for the entire run. I basically ran 10 minute miles at Connemara, running time 6:35, with 5 mins of stops at each of the 3 checkpoints to stuff my face with gels 6:52 official time. So happy to be one of those Ultra runners that I'd been inspired by the year before. The scenery was amazing, I felt so good the whole way through. I had the best time ever. The last 13.1 was still a pig - I've concluded it doesn't really matter if you've run 26.2 miles beforehand or not!

Thumbs up at the end of 40 miles

Autumn 2011 I had a run out at the Amsterdam Marathon. What a great city. 4.23 coming down with a cold. I was feeling grotty and to be honest I had other things on my mind that summer - more on this in the next blog